This is an article Matt posted on facebook a while back.   --G

 

"I walk through the flames
I touch the fire
You know that I still burn for you.

Flood--the water
...Rain, crashed down
Soaked the ground
But still I thirst for you."

 

These words from the immensely talented Jars of Clay, bluntly describe the inherent absence all humans feel---whether they are conscious of it or not---as a result of being separated from their creator.

It seems we were originally created to... never be absent from our Creator, but as a race we chose to wander. The emptiness is still there. We still burn. We still thirst. We attempt to fill this void with many things, not all of which are bad things. Personal relationships. Romance. Friends. Family. And of course the multitude of carnal and material things in our earthly arsenal. It is entirely possible to cram so many of these things into our lives that we are distracted from the persistent emptiness. Even when we come to know our creator, we are so far separated from him, we cannot get close enough.

One day, some--hopefully many--of us will find our way back to the garden, and our Father will pick us up and say, "You look like Me."

 

 

 
If you know me well, you know that I have never thought much of Joel Osteen.  I've felt that he isn't a preacher, but rather a motivational speaker. All "milk" and no "meat".  A Christian can't truly grow until he starts eating spiritual meat.

Channel 4 recently started playing Osteen after Chris Wallace on Sunday mornings.  We started just leaving the tv on that station as we went about our pre-Church routine.  So, of course, I started listening to Osteen.

Yes, he is positive.  But also, he is well-spoken and knowledgeable about the Word and how to explain it in ways that anyone can understand.

In last Sunday's message Osteen was speaking about the dismaying problem of being told only negative things about ourselves.

He spoke of the story of the Garden of Eden after Adam and Eve had eaten of the Tree of Knowledge.  God came walking through the Garden, and upon not finding his two children, called to them.  They answered that they were embarrassed to speak to him because they were naked.  To which God replied, "Who told you you were naked."

I had always read this as a reprimand.  Adam and Eve has gone against his wishes by eating of the Tree of Knowledge.  In my mind, God had given them everything, denying them only two things, and they did it anyway.

But Osteen's message was this:  God said, "Who told you you were naked."  He was saying, "Who told you something was wrong with you?  That you were imperfect?"

Perhaps God wasn't angry.  He was dismayed.  He was broken-hearted for his children.

 

 For many of us the great obstacle to charity lies not in our luxurious living or desire for more money, but in our fear - fear of insecurity.

     -- C. S. Lewis

        The Joyful Christian

 

 

 

Oh, did I mention I shot a 114.5" buck during bow season?

His name is "8"

 

 

 

The basinji breed of dogs originated in Africa, and has such have a very thin coat and great heat tolerance. Great for a dog in Texas. But not so much in winter.

Our basinji mix, Gypsy, is very much like this. She loves summer and hates winter. We've made nice, warm dog houses for both her and Mercy (who happens to LOVE cold weather), but this has seemed to be inadequate.

So, we've decided to try bringing her in this winter, at least during the night. Last night was our trial run. We went through our usual pre-bed routine, sending Pip and Bonnie out to pee. When I let them in, I told Gypsy to come in as well. She's only been in a few times, but as I expected, she followed the other dogs into the bedroom.

I climbed into bed and waited to see how the dogs sorted themselves out. Bonnie immediately dove under the covers with me as she always does. Pip, confused by the change, climbed up on the foot of the bed and laid down. (The only time she gets to do this is when I take a nap during the day.) Gypsy spent a great deal of time wandering around the room, up and down on the bed, whining softly, and generally not knowing what to do. Whenever she climbed up on the bed, Bonnie growled from under the covers (gripey wench that she is).

I left the light on so I could check out any potential problems. At some point everyone settled down on the bed, and we all fell asleep.

Matt said he came in around midnight and found us all in a wad (and let me say I was mostly-toasty). He took everyone outside to go pee (mostly for Gypsy's benefit, since we haven't officially house-broken her). She didn't want to go, saying, “But I'm an inside dog now!” She obeyed, however, and came back inside and climbed back up into bed.

The next step will be go get her and Pip to sleep down in the DOG beds, as there will be no room for Matt with this dog pile arrangement. I will say, however, it was kind of fun.

 

 

The temps have been over 100 degrees for weeks now, and we've had no rain for longer than that.  Oak trees are turning brown, and I worry they are dying.  I can find only tiny, immature acorns, and hickory nuts have been falling off the trees since late spring.  The dogwoods and beauty berries look pitiful, and the muscadines have no fruit.

In addition, my thoughts have been turning to bow season.  The cost of corn has had us debating even filling our feeders, but I'm starting to wonder if we actually MUST fill the feeders just to supplement the diet of not just deer but birds and other native wildlife.

I know "nature must take its course", but when it gets down to brass tacks, it's a hard thing to watch.

Here is an article that gets a little more in-depth.

 

 

And it came to pass that at the appointed time, they left to worship in the House of God.

And, lo, the serpent came with the night, with the rain and the thunder, and found the nest.  And he climbed with evil in his heart, and approached the nest, and did eat of the babes therein.

And upon their return, the people found the broken nest and the serpent, who was content in his evil and unrepentant in his action.

And the rain fell all night long.

                        From Writings on God and Nature, The House of Hilton

 

 Amos 5: 21-24:

 

"I can't stand your religious meetings.
   I'm fed up with your conferences and conventions.
I want nothing to do with your religion projects,
   your pretentious slogans and goals.
I'm sick of your fund-raising schemes,
   your public relations and image making.
I've had all I can take of your noisy ego-music.
   When was the last time you sang to me?
Do you know what I want?
   I want justice—oceans of it.
I want fairness—rivers of it.
   That's what I want. That's all I want. 

 

 

 

On a similar note as the previous post: 

You may remember the short-lived sci fi/western series called Firefly.  Pure genius.  Too bad it only lasted one season.

This scene is between Book, a Shepherd or Preacher, and River, a young woman left forever altered by extensive government experimentation, existing in a state of reality that is… a little different from ours….

 

[Shepherd Book prepares a meal as he absentmindedly addresses River.]

Book: What are we up to, sweetheart?

River: Fixing your Bible.

Book: I, um... What?

[Pan over to River, who works on a book with pens, brushes, and loose pages.]

River: Bible's broken. Contradictions, false logistics... doesn't make sense.  (she's marked up the bible, crossed out passages)

Book: No, no. You—you can't...

River: So we'll integrate non-progressional evolution theory with God's creation of Eden. Eleven inherent metaphoric parallels already there. Eleven. Important number. Prime number. One goes into the house of eleven eleven times, but always comes out one. Noah's ark is a problem.

Book: Really?

River: We'll have to call it "early quantum state phenomenon". Only way to fit 5,000 species of mammals on the same boat. (rips out page)

. . .

Book: River, you don't... fix the Bible.

River: It's broken. It doesn't make sense.

Book: It's not about... making sense. It's about believing in something. And letting that belief be real enough to change your life. It's about faith. You don't fix faith, River. It fixes you.

 

 

Sorry, Shepherd.  Think she’s not on the same wavelength.  But I’ll tell ya I understand about the Bible – don’t mess with a person’s Bible….

 

 

 

 

The sermon today was over Noah and the flood. An old, well-known story.  All of mankind, except Noah and his immediate family, and presumably all the animals except the ones carried on the ark, died in this extensive disaster.

In the Random Musing Department of my mind, I suddenly began to think of the multiple mass-extinctions recorded in Earth’s fossil record.  Some led to the loss of complete populations (ez: the extinction marking the K-T boundary); some led “merely” to a dramatic decrease in the total number of organisms overall in either a large or small area . 

So, following this line of thought (again, just my random musings), the Flood led to essentially a mass extinction.  Interesting parallel to contemplate. 

Take it a step further.  It is still interesting even if you decide to take the Flood story literally, as in the entire Earth was flooded, or the use the alternate theory, as explained by Ryan and Pitman, that the flooding of the area around the Black Sea centuries ago destroyed populations of organisms (plants, animals, humans…).

In the case of the 40 days and nights of rain, the oceans would be desalinated by the freshwater rain.  In the case of the Black Sea (which was freshwater due to the melting of area glaciers) which was overwhelmed by swift rising of the nearby Mediterranean Sea, again dramatically changing the salinity.  Aquatic life would be unable to deal with these rapid changes in salt content, and would therefore die off.  Any terrestrial species dependent upon this aquatic life for food would also be negatively affected.

Thus ends my mental game for today.