Okay, I generally try to stay positive in this blogosphere, but I'm going to join some angry protests about this one. Hollywood is one messed up place. Sometimes I forget that, but I got reminded in a big way this week.
Finally after evading police for over 30 years, Roman Polanski was arrested this week in Switzerland for the 1977 rape of a 13 year old girl. And some people in Hollywood are DEFENDING HIM!!! They are signing petitions asking that he not be extradited to California to face the sentence that he should have faced 30 years ago, but wasn't man enough to do. I mean, I know that the world-view in Hollywood can be pretty screwy but really, defending him. There is no doubt the man is a brilliant director and has a gift for telling a story, but that does NOT excuse the fact that he got this young girl, drunk and high and then had sex with her. I realize he lost his wife and unborn child to the Manson murders, but that does not give him free reign to steal the innocence of a young girl. On top of that he was a coward and he ran.
She was practically a baby. I don't care if he says it was consensual. He was an ADULT and she was a CHILD. Adults are supposed to protect and look out for children, not use them for their own pleasure. That's messed up enough. But the fact that some in Hollywood are defending him, using his art and his age and his philanthropy to try to make it look like the police have arrested Mother Teresa. AUGH!!!
Now, I realize I have said here before that sin is sin and it doesn't matter what it is you've done that it's all equal in the eyes of God. I still stand by that truth. And I also realize that it's perhaps somewhat hypocritical of me to have sort of defended Michael Jackson and yet vilify Roman Polanski. Difference being the Polanski confessed to his deed and then ran from his punishment. In Jackson's case, it has never been proven beyond a shadow of a doubt he did anything to children. I also understand what it is to have a friend accused of something that you cannot fathom them doing. You see, I had a good friend who was accused of being a pedophile. When I heard about the allegations I couldn't believe it, not this person I knew. If I had to testify in court I would have to say that guy I knew I never would think could do that, but it didn't make it any less true in the end. The last I heard, my friend was in prison serving time for his crime. So how can people in good conscience defend Roman Polanski when he himself has said it was true!! I don't care if it was yesterday or 70 years ago, he needs to pay for his crime. Sherrie Shepard, one of the panelists on "The View" got it right when she said on Twitter the other day, "we hunt down 75 year old Nazis. We must protect our children." We don't care how old a terrorist is when he's arrested, why should we care that Polanski is in his 70's and a French citizen. That doesn't make him unaccountable for the crime that he did on American soil when he was in his 40's.
So as you can tell, I'm a little up in arms about this. I know Hollywood is full of ridiculously liberal people who live a lifestyle in complete opposition to my life and belief system, but honestly with all the support that they give to women's rights, how can they support this? I guess it's because they don't believe in the power of consequences. Not really anyway. Facing consquences is hard. It's in consequences we learn that life isn't really all about me. When we sin (and all of us do) there are consequences, in some cases its something small in the scheme of things like learning how to manage your money better, in other cases its big like having to win back the trust of a spouse or a friend after a betrayal. If we believe in the power of consequences we use them to learn and grow and make us better. Usually it takes a lot of strength and work and even more importantly faith to do that. God can use our greatest failure to create our greatest triumph if we turn it over to him. If we don't believe the power of consquences then we run from them or pretend they have no impact. We reinforce the idea that life really is all about me. The funny thing is, that when we do that, they manage to continue to pop up in one way or another. In Polanski's case, it was the law finally catching up with him, in other cases it's broken relationships or addictions or a plethora of other things. These people who are defending Polanski are really keeping him from the power of the consequences in his life. I wonder how much greater his art would have been if he had acknowledged his sin as sin, asked to be forgiven of it and taken the consquences. If it's up to the Hollywood elite, we'll never know.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Check this out...
So last night I played the Open Mic at the Daily Grind here in Stafford. I went mostly because I wanted one of my 11 year old students to play. That all went pretty well. Boy, are my vocal and playing chops rusty.... that's all I will say about that. And I felt a little foolish being the only person over 20 who played, but that's all good. All the kids who played did well, but I got two treats. The first was a pair of sisters, Emily and Anna Weisband. Great voices, great harmonies, they write a lot of their own music. Emily is definitely comfortable on stage, Anna seems a little less so. They did a their own unique arrangement of "The Way You Look Tonight," that Anna sang lead on. I LOVED IT. These young girls may be really something someday... check them out on myspace.
http://www.myspace.com/emilyannamusic
The other was Kevin McVey, one of my former tech kids from church, brilliant kid...literally. He played some techno music using a game boy and some other kids toys that he rewired. Amazing stuff. Never seen anything like it, so unique and so Kevin. The best part was watching this kid that I knew as a pretty shy and reserved person rock out to his own music that he had written using things that he'd put together with his own hands. Pretty cool if I have to say myself.
So keep your eyes out for these kids. Check them out if you get a chance.
http://www.myspace.com/emilyannamusic
The other was Kevin McVey, one of my former tech kids from church, brilliant kid...literally. He played some techno music using a game boy and some other kids toys that he rewired. Amazing stuff. Never seen anything like it, so unique and so Kevin. The best part was watching this kid that I knew as a pretty shy and reserved person rock out to his own music that he had written using things that he'd put together with his own hands. Pretty cool if I have to say myself.
So keep your eyes out for these kids. Check them out if you get a chance.
Monday, August 31, 2009
My JAW Hurts
My Facebook friends may know that I went to the dentist a couple weeks ago to get some teeth filled. While I was there, one of the cavities he filled was really deep and the dentist was concerned that I might need to get a root canal. He said to come back and see him if started to bother me. Well, at first it was fine and then a week or so after the filling the pain was becoming a distraction. It wasn't a "I'm going to die" kind of pain, just the annoying kind. So I went back to the dentist who sent me to the root canal specialist. The root canal guy looked at it and said that there was no immediate need to deal with it and whether or not I got a root canal really was dictated by how bad the pain was for me. Well, since it wasn't killing me, I decided against the procedure right then. Since then, the pain comes and goes. Sometimes it's fine, other times it's annoying, and still others I reach for the Advil to deal with it.
Why do I tell you about my dental trials and tribulations? Well I went to the Beth Moore simulcast a couple weekends ago at a local church. She taught on Psalm 37, concentrating on Psalm 37: 4 "Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart." She said lots of things that were encouraging and challenging, real words from the Lord. But none were as relevant to my heart right now as what she said about the things that steal our delight. She used the acronym JAW (now you understand my rambling earlier) to point us to the things that can stand in the way of delighting in the Lord. The "J" stands for jealousy. You know, that green-eyed monster. Comparing, bemoaning why they succeed and I don't, begruding people what they have...ow...I've done them all. The "A" is for anger. I don't think I'm angry person, but I'm certainly not immune from that emotion. I've had my share of temper tantrums at others and at God. The "W" is worry. I think we all have those things we worry about: money, children, aging, the state of the world. I can be a worrier for certain: finances, insurances, what I'm going to be when I grow up, will I ever meet Mr. Right....the list goes on and and. When she got done, boy did my JAW hurt.
So as I continued to mull this over in my brain over the past week or so, I've been trying to do my own type of root canal, looking for the roots of those things that made my JAW hurt. Honestly, like a regular root canal, it's taking a lot of time and some pain for me to dig those things out. With a real root canal, it fixes the problem and the pain should not recur. I wish it was like that with my spiritual one, but I know because of my sin nature, jealous, anger and worry will come back. But what I need to do is get to them before they become an all consuming pain that takes away my focus. Whenever my JAW hurts even a little bit, I need to remember to take it to the Lord and let Him deal with my heart and the issue.
Why do I tell you about my dental trials and tribulations? Well I went to the Beth Moore simulcast a couple weekends ago at a local church. She taught on Psalm 37, concentrating on Psalm 37: 4 "Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart." She said lots of things that were encouraging and challenging, real words from the Lord. But none were as relevant to my heart right now as what she said about the things that steal our delight. She used the acronym JAW (now you understand my rambling earlier) to point us to the things that can stand in the way of delighting in the Lord. The "J" stands for jealousy. You know, that green-eyed monster. Comparing, bemoaning why they succeed and I don't, begruding people what they have...ow...I've done them all. The "A" is for anger. I don't think I'm angry person, but I'm certainly not immune from that emotion. I've had my share of temper tantrums at others and at God. The "W" is worry. I think we all have those things we worry about: money, children, aging, the state of the world. I can be a worrier for certain: finances, insurances, what I'm going to be when I grow up, will I ever meet Mr. Right....the list goes on and and. When she got done, boy did my JAW hurt.
So as I continued to mull this over in my brain over the past week or so, I've been trying to do my own type of root canal, looking for the roots of those things that made my JAW hurt. Honestly, like a regular root canal, it's taking a lot of time and some pain for me to dig those things out. With a real root canal, it fixes the problem and the pain should not recur. I wish it was like that with my spiritual one, but I know because of my sin nature, jealous, anger and worry will come back. But what I need to do is get to them before they become an all consuming pain that takes away my focus. Whenever my JAW hurts even a little bit, I need to remember to take it to the Lord and let Him deal with my heart and the issue.
Friday, August 28, 2009
A Little Paint Goes a Long Way
I like to help people. But I have to admit, most of the time I'm pretty lazy. And most of the time I walk around with my head down to the needs around me. So I wanted to say thank you to Steve Sokoly and the Compassion Restoration Ministry for getting me off my lazy rear and picking my head up.
Compassion Restoration is a ministry that helps those who need a helping hand. They've completed several projects and I've always thought, "oh that's so good they are doing that." Recently they took on a huge project, the residents of a trailer park in our county were being threatened with eviction if they could not get their trailers to pass an inspection. I'm not sure how many of the folks needed help, but Steve Sokoly and his team were passionate about making sure that none of these families would be asked to leave. He put the call out on Facebook and I thought about going out last weekend and helping. But I decided instead to go to the movies instead. I spent the whole day at Potomac Mills wandering around. So while many, many people were blessing others, I was spending some time with a friend (a good thing) but the majority of the day I just wandered aimlessly by myself.
Well earlier this week I got an e-mail from my friend Margy encouraging people to help. There was still much to be done and the deadline for these people to get their homes up to snuff was looming large. So yesterday afternoon when I left the house to run some errands and get a haircut, I packed some grubby clothes with the thought that I "might" go over and see what I could do. Thankfully my friend Christine was going as well, that gave me the courage to actually drive my car in that direction after I had taken care of my errands. Boy, am I glad I did.
This is a community I've driven past a number of times, off one of the country roads here in Stafford county. There's probably 40 or so trailers in this space. It brought back memories of visiting my sister when she lived in a trailer park. As I drove up a number of folks were outside painting on their homes. I found my friend helping a young woman paint out in the heat. I found out that the young woman was the mother to five children under the age of seven, including 2 year old twins that had been born 2 months premature. As I asked her about her family and her husband, hearing about how he worked two jobs in order to keep them in this simple home, it reminded me of how hard life can be. Christine gently asked her about church and Jesus and found a young woman who had been judged for her choices and her habits by church before and really was confused about what it meant to be a Christian. She was I would say a truly good person: she was kind to us and grateful for our help, she was attentive to her children, worked hard to provide the best life for them she could, taught her children to say please and thank you. Sadly I think she believes that all her "doing" will please God, and it does, but it still doesn't erase the fact that without Jesus she's still going to miss the mark. We invited her to church, and she gave us a list of reasons why she found it hard to get there. We tried to answer every objection and I hope that she will decide to go, even if it's only as a "thank you" to us. Who knows how God is working.
Then when Christine left, Cindy showed up and we started to work on another trailer. That was when I got the joy of meeting Juanita. Juanita, it seems, is the lady who got this whole project started. She went to the doctor shortly after been given this laundry list of things she had to accomplish in order to not be evicted and simply fell apart in the waiting room. It "just so happened" that a woman whose husband is involved with the Compassion Restoration Ministry was a nurse in this office (coincidence...I think not) and heard about the plight of Juanita and so many others in this community. She told Juanita, "I want to help you." Juanita told me that she was shocked. They exchanged information and that's how the whole project got started. Juanita's a scrappy lady, she's probably in her fifties and reminded me of the lady who would be your favorite person working at the school cafeteria. She cares a lot about her neighbors and can barely talk about how grateful she is for the help without tearing up. She told me that they used to go to church all the time, that they were from Lynchburg and had at one time been a part of Thomas Road. But, she said it's easy to fall out of going and I agreed with her. She talked about trying to come to MABC one Sunday.
When Cindy and I set to work on the trailer we were painting, Juanita's daughter and the girl across the street came over to help us. The girl (who had painted her trailer purple!) said, "You know, you all have done so much for me, let me help you do this. I have to help you do this." That gave Cindy a wonderful chance to chat with the girls as I listened and prayed from the other end of the trailer. Cindy got to share about our church, tell them service times, and to invite them to the women's ministry event in September.
As the dusk turned to night, they bought us popsicles and we got to chat a little more as we cleaned up. As I walked back to my car, paint spattered and weary from working out in the heat, I couldn't help but smile from the inside out and say "thank you" to God. A little paint does go a long way. It opened a door to encourage a hard-working and weary young mother, confused about how to please God. It reminded a middle-aged lady that there are still people out there that care about others and that maybe, just maybe it's time to return to the church of her younger days. It showed two young women that church is full of real people who care about other people. It reminded me that it's too easy to turn into myself and spend time aimlessly, that there is a purpose that we're all called to -- LOVE. And that love can look like paint on a trailer.
So Saturday afternoon instead of going back to the place I'm housesitting and sitting by their gorgeous pool all afternoon, I'm going to pull on those grubbies and head back out to see Juanita and the people of Hidden Lane. Hope to see you there.
Compassion Restoration is a ministry that helps those who need a helping hand. They've completed several projects and I've always thought, "oh that's so good they are doing that." Recently they took on a huge project, the residents of a trailer park in our county were being threatened with eviction if they could not get their trailers to pass an inspection. I'm not sure how many of the folks needed help, but Steve Sokoly and his team were passionate about making sure that none of these families would be asked to leave. He put the call out on Facebook and I thought about going out last weekend and helping. But I decided instead to go to the movies instead. I spent the whole day at Potomac Mills wandering around. So while many, many people were blessing others, I was spending some time with a friend (a good thing) but the majority of the day I just wandered aimlessly by myself.
Well earlier this week I got an e-mail from my friend Margy encouraging people to help. There was still much to be done and the deadline for these people to get their homes up to snuff was looming large. So yesterday afternoon when I left the house to run some errands and get a haircut, I packed some grubby clothes with the thought that I "might" go over and see what I could do. Thankfully my friend Christine was going as well, that gave me the courage to actually drive my car in that direction after I had taken care of my errands. Boy, am I glad I did.
This is a community I've driven past a number of times, off one of the country roads here in Stafford county. There's probably 40 or so trailers in this space. It brought back memories of visiting my sister when she lived in a trailer park. As I drove up a number of folks were outside painting on their homes. I found my friend helping a young woman paint out in the heat. I found out that the young woman was the mother to five children under the age of seven, including 2 year old twins that had been born 2 months premature. As I asked her about her family and her husband, hearing about how he worked two jobs in order to keep them in this simple home, it reminded me of how hard life can be. Christine gently asked her about church and Jesus and found a young woman who had been judged for her choices and her habits by church before and really was confused about what it meant to be a Christian. She was I would say a truly good person: she was kind to us and grateful for our help, she was attentive to her children, worked hard to provide the best life for them she could, taught her children to say please and thank you. Sadly I think she believes that all her "doing" will please God, and it does, but it still doesn't erase the fact that without Jesus she's still going to miss the mark. We invited her to church, and she gave us a list of reasons why she found it hard to get there. We tried to answer every objection and I hope that she will decide to go, even if it's only as a "thank you" to us. Who knows how God is working.
Then when Christine left, Cindy showed up and we started to work on another trailer. That was when I got the joy of meeting Juanita. Juanita, it seems, is the lady who got this whole project started. She went to the doctor shortly after been given this laundry list of things she had to accomplish in order to not be evicted and simply fell apart in the waiting room. It "just so happened" that a woman whose husband is involved with the Compassion Restoration Ministry was a nurse in this office (coincidence...I think not) and heard about the plight of Juanita and so many others in this community. She told Juanita, "I want to help you." Juanita told me that she was shocked. They exchanged information and that's how the whole project got started. Juanita's a scrappy lady, she's probably in her fifties and reminded me of the lady who would be your favorite person working at the school cafeteria. She cares a lot about her neighbors and can barely talk about how grateful she is for the help without tearing up. She told me that they used to go to church all the time, that they were from Lynchburg and had at one time been a part of Thomas Road. But, she said it's easy to fall out of going and I agreed with her. She talked about trying to come to MABC one Sunday.
When Cindy and I set to work on the trailer we were painting, Juanita's daughter and the girl across the street came over to help us. The girl (who had painted her trailer purple!) said, "You know, you all have done so much for me, let me help you do this. I have to help you do this." That gave Cindy a wonderful chance to chat with the girls as I listened and prayed from the other end of the trailer. Cindy got to share about our church, tell them service times, and to invite them to the women's ministry event in September.
As the dusk turned to night, they bought us popsicles and we got to chat a little more as we cleaned up. As I walked back to my car, paint spattered and weary from working out in the heat, I couldn't help but smile from the inside out and say "thank you" to God. A little paint does go a long way. It opened a door to encourage a hard-working and weary young mother, confused about how to please God. It reminded a middle-aged lady that there are still people out there that care about others and that maybe, just maybe it's time to return to the church of her younger days. It showed two young women that church is full of real people who care about other people. It reminded me that it's too easy to turn into myself and spend time aimlessly, that there is a purpose that we're all called to -- LOVE. And that love can look like paint on a trailer.
So Saturday afternoon instead of going back to the place I'm housesitting and sitting by their gorgeous pool all afternoon, I'm going to pull on those grubbies and head back out to see Juanita and the people of Hidden Lane. Hope to see you there.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Prayers from Africa
You know, I've been a part of a church for most of my life. All have, in some way, been evangelical. At the very least we were encouraged to pray for missions in dark and scary places like Central America or China or Africa. You know, the people in Africa, they need Jesus or at the very least the pity of us wealthy Americans.
Some years ago, long after I accepted Christ and really understood the importance of missions for real, I went to some Christian concert and signed up to sponsor a child from Africa. Her name is Maureen and she is from Uganda. She's 14 now I think. I'm glad to say that I've been able to faithful to that commitment financially over the past few years. (Let's remember that money and I have a love/hate relationship...I used to love to spend what wasn't mine and hated the bills. I'm working on righting that, thanks to a lot of grace.) But, I have to say that I'm not the best at writing letters to her. I just didn't know what to say to her a lot of the time. You can't exactly talk about the latest movie to a child who lives in a village in Africa. Worse yet, I probably didn't pray for her nearly as much as I should. Her picture is on my refrigerator and I try to remember to pray for her when I look at it, but it's one of those things that has been there so long, that I rarely actually look at it.
About two weeks ago now, I got a letter from her. In one of my more recent letters I told her that I had cancer and was undergoing treatment. This is what she said to me:
"I want to inform you that one night I dreamt that you were completely cured from cancer and above all I realised that you were walking with me. There and then I woke up and prayed to God to heal you. And I believe that God's divine healing is still taking a gradual process."
Wow. That's really the only word for that letter. Wow, that this girl who hardly ever hears from me had me so on her heart that she dreamt about me. Wow, that she was so obedient to the heart of God that she didn't roll over or think "what a weird dream," but she got up out of the bed to pray for me in that moment. Wow, that I have a God who loves me so much that he spoke in a dream to a girl in that "dark, scary place" Africa about me.
Ow. That's the other word for that letter. Ow, that I don't take the time to write her like I should. Ow, that I sometimes I only think about her when it's time to write the check to Compassion International. Ow, that I pretty sure I've never been immediately that obedient to a call of God. Ow, that I can arrogantly think that THEY need MY prayers. Talk about a humbling experience.
So the next time you pray for Africa or Central America or China or the Middle East, maybe someone there is praying for you.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Surpassed...with pride
Tonight was a gorgeous summer night in Virginia. There was no humidity (surely only by the grace of God) and it was in the 70's outside. A perfect night to be hanging out somewhere listening to music. And that's what I did tonight, I went out to a local coffee shop (the Daily Grind) and listened to music.
Tonight was a special treat, not just because of the weather. Though I would have to say that it was the kind of night if you could capture it in a bottle and sell it, you would be a gazillionaire. It was special because all of the artists I heard tonight were "my kids," students that I worked with when they were in high school and college. Three of them were in my student band, Toluca Road and the other I continue to kick myself for turning down, but he's none the worse for wear.
Tim, Jason, Matt and Rory have always been amazingly talented young men. I remember sitting with Tim in a guitar class at camp when he was in the 8th grade thinking, "this kid is going to be amazing." I remember having him in Toluca Road and pushing him to sing even when he was dealing with that voice change thing boys go through. He writes songs that are one minute funny and then next minute thoughtful and beautiful. Jason is by far the best drummer I know and it's because he has always looked at the whole picture of the song and how he can best add to it. Matt, well Matt is astounding. He can play any instrument you put in front of him in just about any style and usually carries with him an assortment of odd instruments that he only really knows the name of and how to play. And then there's Rory. He's the one I turned down. He's an artist on every level, in high school he played Jesus in Godspell and to this day I don't think I've seen anyone play that part as well. He's become an amazing singer/songwriter. He's such an incredible wordsmith, every song painted in rich hues sometimes impressionistic in nature other times with clean, cutting lines.
As I sat and listened to these "boys" (none is younger than 20) play their own songs or covers of songs they love I was so moved with pride and love and awe. I think the thing I love the most is to watch their friendship in action. They laugh and tease and throw around inside jokes. They love music and their friendship. To all of them pursuing music is just a part of who they are. Part of their pursuit of the One who put that music inside them. I have to say that as I listened to them, I knew too that they have surpassed me in skill creatively, musically and lyrically. That could make one depressed or angry but for me it did two things. First of all it made me want to be better, to spend more time at my craft, to practice, to study, to pour out the words I know are in me. The second thing it did was it made me proud. I'm proud that they have surpassed me.
I'll never have children of my own, but these "boys" were the among the ones that God has let me be a part. I'm not saying I taught them much of anything musically. Each one was gifted far beyond my meager abilities, but what I did was pour love, affirmation, truth and sometimes discipline into their lives. I gave them opportunities to grow and change and make music. And even though many years have passed since those days, I still that I think I can take some pride in that. Not in a bad, puffed up, "look at what I've accomplished" kind of pride, but a "look what God let me be a part of" kind of pride. I love each one of my kids and carry each one of them in my heart . I hope to be surpassed by each one of them in grace, love and faithfulness.
Tonight was a special treat, not just because of the weather. Though I would have to say that it was the kind of night if you could capture it in a bottle and sell it, you would be a gazillionaire. It was special because all of the artists I heard tonight were "my kids," students that I worked with when they were in high school and college. Three of them were in my student band, Toluca Road and the other I continue to kick myself for turning down, but he's none the worse for wear.
Tim, Jason, Matt and Rory have always been amazingly talented young men. I remember sitting with Tim in a guitar class at camp when he was in the 8th grade thinking, "this kid is going to be amazing." I remember having him in Toluca Road and pushing him to sing even when he was dealing with that voice change thing boys go through. He writes songs that are one minute funny and then next minute thoughtful and beautiful. Jason is by far the best drummer I know and it's because he has always looked at the whole picture of the song and how he can best add to it. Matt, well Matt is astounding. He can play any instrument you put in front of him in just about any style and usually carries with him an assortment of odd instruments that he only really knows the name of and how to play. And then there's Rory. He's the one I turned down. He's an artist on every level, in high school he played Jesus in Godspell and to this day I don't think I've seen anyone play that part as well. He's become an amazing singer/songwriter. He's such an incredible wordsmith, every song painted in rich hues sometimes impressionistic in nature other times with clean, cutting lines.
As I sat and listened to these "boys" (none is younger than 20) play their own songs or covers of songs they love I was so moved with pride and love and awe. I think the thing I love the most is to watch their friendship in action. They laugh and tease and throw around inside jokes. They love music and their friendship. To all of them pursuing music is just a part of who they are. Part of their pursuit of the One who put that music inside them. I have to say that as I listened to them, I knew too that they have surpassed me in skill creatively, musically and lyrically. That could make one depressed or angry but for me it did two things. First of all it made me want to be better, to spend more time at my craft, to practice, to study, to pour out the words I know are in me. The second thing it did was it made me proud. I'm proud that they have surpassed me.
I'll never have children of my own, but these "boys" were the among the ones that God has let me be a part. I'm not saying I taught them much of anything musically. Each one was gifted far beyond my meager abilities, but what I did was pour love, affirmation, truth and sometimes discipline into their lives. I gave them opportunities to grow and change and make music. And even though many years have passed since those days, I still that I think I can take some pride in that. Not in a bad, puffed up, "look at what I've accomplished" kind of pride, but a "look what God let me be a part of" kind of pride. I love each one of my kids and carry each one of them in my heart . I hope to be surpassed by each one of them in grace, love and faithfulness.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Just Grass
"As for man, his days are like grass; he flourishes like a flower of the field; for the wind passes over it, and it is gone, and its place knows it no more. But the steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him" (Ps. 103:15-17a)
My friend Tony Merida posted that this morning as his status. Yesterday was a weird day in America, we lost two pop culture icons, Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson. Also earlier in the week Ed McMahon died. Now I do not know any of these people only the personas that were out there for the world to see. I know that each had an impact on American and even world culture to some degree.
I grew up with Michael Jackson, he was just five years older than me. As a kid I was more than a little teen idol crazy, my favorite was Donny Osmond. The Osmonds and the Jackson walked parallel tracks to stardom in the 70's and were in all the same magazines. My older brother used to like to tease me by taking my Donny Osmond poster and turning it over to put Michael's face on my wall instead. When I need to smile, I pull out my Jackson Five CD and listen to ABC or I Want You Back. I remember staying up late to watch the "Thriller" video debut on Halloween night and the Pepsi commercial filming when Michael's hair caught on fire. As he got older, he got weirder. In my mind I have to attribute some of that to never really having a normal childhood of any kind and to the reported abuses by his father. He was a man with a sick heart, not physically but spritually, looking for love and acceptance in changing his appearance, spending money like it was water, remaining and child and perhaps doing unthinkable things to children. Depending on the Michael you first knew, I think your perspective on his passing is different.
My brother had "that" poster of Farrah, the one of with all her hair and teeth in that one-piece red bathing suit. We were avid watchers of Charlie's Angels. My cousins and I used to pretend we were them. Heck, I even have a picture of me and some friends doing the Charlie's Angels pose at a wedding a few years ago! She married, then divorced Lee Majors. She fought to be seen as a serious actress and not just a pretty face. She had a long, rocky, and crazy relationship with Ryan O'Neal. Three years ago, Farrah contracted malignant anal cancer. Even as a cancer survivor the sound of that just makes me cringe. In these past months especially her fight with this disease has been in the spotlight, she took cameras with her to document her journey. I didn't see the documentary, but from what I heard it was powerful and insightful and knowing the indignity of cancer treatment certainly brave.
Then there was Ed McMahon. The jovial sidekick of Johnny Carson. The host of one of the original reality show, "Star Search" and pitchman extraordinaire. For me, Ed will always be remembered as Jerry Lewis' sidekick on the MDA Labor Day telethon. Up until a few years ago, I never missed that telethon, crying through the whole thing. Ed lived to be 86 and really only in the past few years had struggled with health issues and had financial problems. Ed had a number of physical ailments at the end that took him including cancer and pneumonia.
So, like Tony posted this morning. All of us are like grass. Sometimes grass grows tall and long and dies after a long life (for grass that is). Sometimes grass gets sick and dies slowly and painfully. Sometimes grass gets burnt up quickly in a firestorm. Ed, Farrah and Michael, grass. You and me, grass. The real question is for whom did the grass live? Did they live for themselves or fame or their families or did they live for God and trust in Jesus to save them.
Today we will indulge in remembrances of those lost. Perhaps the media will get carried away (okay, they already have). It's my hope that these losses will remind us that we are all grass and we need to focus on who we are living for and how we live Jesus out and share Jesus with those around us.
My friend Tony Merida posted that this morning as his status. Yesterday was a weird day in America, we lost two pop culture icons, Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson. Also earlier in the week Ed McMahon died. Now I do not know any of these people only the personas that were out there for the world to see. I know that each had an impact on American and even world culture to some degree.
I grew up with Michael Jackson, he was just five years older than me. As a kid I was more than a little teen idol crazy, my favorite was Donny Osmond. The Osmonds and the Jackson walked parallel tracks to stardom in the 70's and were in all the same magazines. My older brother used to like to tease me by taking my Donny Osmond poster and turning it over to put Michael's face on my wall instead. When I need to smile, I pull out my Jackson Five CD and listen to ABC or I Want You Back. I remember staying up late to watch the "Thriller" video debut on Halloween night and the Pepsi commercial filming when Michael's hair caught on fire. As he got older, he got weirder. In my mind I have to attribute some of that to never really having a normal childhood of any kind and to the reported abuses by his father. He was a man with a sick heart, not physically but spritually, looking for love and acceptance in changing his appearance, spending money like it was water, remaining and child and perhaps doing unthinkable things to children. Depending on the Michael you first knew, I think your perspective on his passing is different.
My brother had "that" poster of Farrah, the one of with all her hair and teeth in that one-piece red bathing suit. We were avid watchers of Charlie's Angels. My cousins and I used to pretend we were them. Heck, I even have a picture of me and some friends doing the Charlie's Angels pose at a wedding a few years ago! She married, then divorced Lee Majors. She fought to be seen as a serious actress and not just a pretty face. She had a long, rocky, and crazy relationship with Ryan O'Neal. Three years ago, Farrah contracted malignant anal cancer. Even as a cancer survivor the sound of that just makes me cringe. In these past months especially her fight with this disease has been in the spotlight, she took cameras with her to document her journey. I didn't see the documentary, but from what I heard it was powerful and insightful and knowing the indignity of cancer treatment certainly brave.
Then there was Ed McMahon. The jovial sidekick of Johnny Carson. The host of one of the original reality show, "Star Search" and pitchman extraordinaire. For me, Ed will always be remembered as Jerry Lewis' sidekick on the MDA Labor Day telethon. Up until a few years ago, I never missed that telethon, crying through the whole thing. Ed lived to be 86 and really only in the past few years had struggled with health issues and had financial problems. Ed had a number of physical ailments at the end that took him including cancer and pneumonia.
So, like Tony posted this morning. All of us are like grass. Sometimes grass grows tall and long and dies after a long life (for grass that is). Sometimes grass gets sick and dies slowly and painfully. Sometimes grass gets burnt up quickly in a firestorm. Ed, Farrah and Michael, grass. You and me, grass. The real question is for whom did the grass live? Did they live for themselves or fame or their families or did they live for God and trust in Jesus to save them.
Today we will indulge in remembrances of those lost. Perhaps the media will get carried away (okay, they already have). It's my hope that these losses will remind us that we are all grass and we need to focus on who we are living for and how we live Jesus out and share Jesus with those around us.
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