Oh how I love Jesus because He first loved me

The scripture that song is based on was the theme of a women's social I recently attended at church. I thought the speaker gave an amazing illustration of what this means to us in our limited human comprehension. Like a couple expecting a new baby, all the love in the world is already there, before he or she is even born. An expecting dad will talk to his wife's tummy while she lovingly caresses is it as if the baby could feel her touch. They love that baby -- a baby who's done nothing to earn that love but simply exist. That love will always be. Mom and dad can't wait to get to know their little one, to wisely impart tenderness and discipline. And one day soon, a cherub-faced toddler will look up at them and say, "I love you."

We love Him because He first loved us.

Most embarrassing moment

How did this become the go-to topic for social functions and conversational lulls? I never know what to recount when I'm asked about mine. And even if I could quickly drudge up the information, why would I want to re-tell such a thing? This is a mystery to me.

One of the reasons I have a hard time answering the dreaded question is that I don't embarrass easily -- haven't for quite awhile. When I was young, and loads more shy, I may have blushed when I inadvertently stepped on a stranger's toes or I might have wilted like a shrinking violet when I crossed the street too soon and a car honked at me. But as one of those unfortunate souls with feet that are magnetically drawn to walls and furniture corners, who also has a propensity for spoiling perfectly good shirts with splashes of coffee and red punch, it becomes exhausting to feel ashamed every time someone sees you goof. Life's too short for that. So I'll save my embarrassment energy until the day I make a (donkey) out of myself on a loud speaker or on some jumbo-tron screen.

In closing, and in the interest of full disclosure, I must confess that if ever there was a prime opportunity for a grown woman to be embarrassed, it might have occurred last night when I put on a pair of roller-blades for the first time in seven years. I all-too-cavalierly took two glides outside our apartment building before I drifted onto grass and promptly fell on my butt. Well, that was fun while it lasted.

Thoughtless

Well not literally, but I do seem lacking in the energy and cleverness departments, which supply my writing. So I'll instead leave you with some of the great thoughts, as communicated by Mr. Clive Staples Lewis...

"It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad."

"Reality, in fact, is always something you couldn't have guessed. That's one of the reasons I believe Christianity. It's a religion you couldn't have guessed."

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket -- safe, dark, motionless, airless -- it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”

“Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see.”

"If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world."

And in other news...

Talk about the dog days of summer!

"What is cancer?"

My almost-4 nephew asked my mother and me earnestly a few days ago. He overheard a discussion we were having about a dear girl we know who is suffering from complications.

"Cancer is something that happens in your body to make you very, very sick."

"How did she get cancer?"

Great question ... if only there was an answer.

"I don't know, honey."

She is only 6 years old. A spark-plug, a cherub, a chatterbox, a jock, a beauty. A cancer patient.

And then there is my friend (who may as well be a sister), who lost her grandmother to the monster not one month ago. "I am so sick of cancer," she wrote to me. It is an ugly beast. You hear the word everywhere now -- no longer surprised that your cousin's sister in-law or neighbor's pastor or the guy from that TV show have been diagnosed.

And yet, as the degrees of separation become fewer upon hearing the news, it's suddenly jarring and raw again. "I used to babysit her." That's when your heart drops just in time for a punch in the gut. Lord have mercy on the ones who instead say "I conceived her."

The Healer hears us, so let us pray.

Swallowing camels

Last week I was particularly moved when I read my church's daily devotional. It comes from Matthew 23:23-24.

23 "Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you pay tithe of mint and anise and cummin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faith. These you ought to have done, without leaving the others undone. 24 Blind guides, who strain out a gnat and swallow a camel!"

Jesus' righteous indignation here is directed at a group of people who rank high on religion but low on faith. They are so concerned with following the letter of the law to a T that they neglect the spirit of it. In another verse, Christ would illustrate this as cleaning and polishing the outside of a vessel while its insides are rotten and decayed.

Mint, anise and cummin were practically worthless herbs, yet Pharisees worked painstakingly to assure they were included in tithing. But every second these men spent measuring their spices was a second they couldn't spend on the "weightier" matters of justice, mercy and faith. Is there anything more tragic in religion than when rules become the goals themselves instead of the guidelines?

But the image that stuck with me the most was that of straining gnats from water and wine to avoid ingesting them, only to end up swallowing a camel. Such a stark reminder and haunting image. Not that Christians today would make such a mistake :) Is it a mystery which God is more concerned with -- pure hearts or pure language? Budding faith or short skirts? Spiritual growth or two glasses of wine?

Justice and mercy and faith ... oh my. May the divine meanings of those words guide our motives as we not only judge the world around us, but most importantly ourselves.

Call me old-fashioned...

...but as a dyed-in-the-wool journalist, it's hard to get excited about an interview that takes place under circumstances such as these -- resulting in a mess like this.

Angelina Jolie was already far from my favorite celebrity type, but this is downright irritating, not to mention ridiculous. Whatever happened to simply refusing to answer a question you don't like? Journalists know what libel is and they know full well they can get their pants sued off for knowingly misrepresenting anyone in a new story. Is it really necessary to further threaten and bully honest reporters who just want to land a good interview?

Ms. Jolie, why don't we just save ourselves the trouble and patiently wait for you to conduct and write all of your own interviews -- no doubt people will LINE UP for that.

"PH" balance

How can you not love a TV journalist who refuses to say the name of a certain hotel heiress? I'm not sure how it all started, but some time ago, Anderson Cooper made a promise to himself not to mention a person whose name rhymes with Ferris Milton while he's on the air. Needless to say this past week has presented a bit of a challenge since Cooper anchors his own one-hour news show on CNN. He's managed to keep his word pretty deftly thus far -- creatively introducing segments reported by other journalists. It's quite entertaining, actually.

So if your local paper is anything like mine, putting Ferris Milton on the front AND an inside page, and you find yourself shuddering at the mention of her name, you might want to give Anderson a try.

"But trust me on the sunscreen"

I should have paid better attention to Baz Luhrmann's words of caution in his musical tribute to the class of '99. Last week I got burned -- bad.

A brief science lesson: For those of you who don't know, California is positioned closer to the Equator than northern parts of the United States. This results in a more direct hit from the sun. If you are not a native Californian (as I am not), you'll do well to remember this little factoid. And no, you don't have to be in a bathing suit at the beach for sun poisoning to happen. In my case, a Padre game on a *mildly* warm day was the perfect storm. I looked like a lobster. And it didn't help that I hadn't been drinking much water since our arrival.

It began the day after with a sneak attack of dizziness and a touch of nausea, which subsided for awhile. The dizzy spells came and went for the next couple days, until I started crashing Wednesday night and got progressively worse Thursday. I couldn't keep anything down so dehydration became a major concern. It took most of the day to get my strength up just to get in the car and ride to the local ER. Seven hours later, I was fluid again, thanks to the IV, and on my bumbling way with prescriptions for Pepcid and something with a long name that --get this-- "may cause DIZZINESS." Ya, I'll get right on taking that one!

The next few days were a blur. I could eat a little lunch without losing it, but the vertigo-like feeling kept pushing back our travel plans. (Did I mention we drove instead of flew?) We finally made it home late Sunday night, but it still cost me two days of work. Superman was exceptionally super through all of this, needless to say.

Yesterday at about 4:15 p.m., the fog began to lift. The clouds parted, birds began singing, and I could feel my brain slowly but surely start to normalize. At my worst, I felt as if I were wearing permanent dark glasses with water in my ears as someone gently pressed a board down on my head -- oh, and filled with enough alcohol to keep the room spinning and my feet from walking a straight line. Not a very practical state of mind :)

But I'm feeling better every day, and this was an opportunity for me to slow down and respect the elements (I often fancy myself indestructible because I'm usually quite sturdy). It also made me grateful for my health and that I don't live with chronic pain or a life-threatening disease. My short-lived discomfort is a way of life for many. Lord, let me not take my well-being for granted -- what a gift!

The "vacation" was not a total loss:
- Traveling 50 mph down an unpaved mountain road in the dark to keep tail lights in view (the highway shut down 2 1/2 hours into our first night of travel so a semi driver lead the way through a perilous alternate route)
+ Attending my second MLB game ever
+ Rediscovering Disneyland
+ Meeting my husband's mentor and family from his Campus Crusade for Christ days
- Losing $ on three hotel rooms due to unavoidable changes of plans
+ Introducing Superman to a most "awesome" great uncle
+++ Enjoying the care and hospitality of a family who made us feel we were right at home

If you are traveling this summer, be sure to drink lots of water -- just in case you find your skin extra pink, wanting to avoid an ER visit. And trust me on the sunscreen.

A less than ideal equation

Vacation + sun poisoning = no blogging. Sorry about that, mates! But Lord willing, I'll be back in the saddle again soon. Have a great weekend!

Thought for the day

Exactly...

"This is the true joy in life -- being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; being thoroughly worn out before you are thrown on the scrap heap; being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy."
~ George Bernard Shaw

P.S. I am a nerd; I can't WAIT for the "Lost" finale tonight

No substitute for substance

Opinions -- we each have a million. There's nothing wrong with them. But I get a little suspicious when they're fired off in rapid succession. Strong opinions are no substitute for true substance.

Sometimes I wonder if people rattle off their likes and likes to prove they are interesting. Opinionated and interesting are not synonymous, however. There's much more to being a fascinating, cultured individual than being able to verbalize what turns you on and off.

You think "Gone With the Wind" is overrated? OK, that's all well and good. I'd rather know how old you were when you first saw the film. You say swing music is better than blues. But what role has music played in your life?

The other danger in being obsessed with opinions is that it can predispose you to accepting or rejecting something new all too easily. If you "hate" Toyotas, you might not test drive a potentially great car for you. If you "love" any movie Matt Damon is in, you might soon find yourself bending over backward to defend a decidedly terrible movie.

Like I said -- there's nothing wrong with having opinions. Many of them are legitimately earned. Just don't use them to kill time because you don't know how to talk about the world objectively and intelligently.

The 7 things meme

Queen Heroical tagged me for this, so here we go...

First, the Rules: People who are tagged start by thinking about 7 random facts/habits about themselves. Each player then must write about those seven things on their blog, as well as include these rules. Players then need to choose 7 people to tag and list their names. Don’t forget to leave each person a comment telling them they’ve been tagged.

1. I have a difficult time saying anything or anyone is ugly -- not because I have some keen eye for beauty, but because it takes a lot for me to think something/someone is wholly unattractive.

2. I was born boy-crazy, and all those years of boy-chasing finally paid off in college when I landed the big one. The fact that I've never been pursued by any guy carries its fair share of insecurity. But the fact that I set my sights on the man of my dreams and married him says a little about my tenacity, I like to think. Oh, and I'm only crazy about one boy now!

3. Sometimes it's hard for me to read the Bible for extended periods of time because I have ADD due to HCRS (Hyper Cross-Referencing Syndrome). It's literally a struggle for me, which is why I LOVE devotionals that have entire passages baked right in.

4. I have zero tolerance for bullies -- bullying is one of the most despicable things. In addition I (unfairly) judge people by their driving skills. Also, I have no problem with people discussing their personal struggles, but I become very impatient when it turns to whining or complaining (there IS a difference).

5. If I leave the house without pearl studs in my ears or a watch on my wrist, I will feel practically naked. In all the truth I can't remember the last time I even took my faux pearls out!

6. Make-up is a drag to me, so I rarely wear a stitch. Then of course it's all the more affirming (insert sarcasm here) when the one time you wear make-up in a month, people comment on how pretty you look. Sheesh!

7. When I was young, I dreamed of always living with my brother -- just like Matthew and Marilla in "Anne of Green Gables." This would crack him up to read, but probably wouldn't surprise him; he knows he's one of my all-time favorite people. Afterall, he set the standard for me in finding a good husband, which I'm happy to say my very own Superman passed with flying colors. (Get it? Flying colors ... Superman ... Is this thing on?)

I will now tag Girlfriday, Amila Rate Ibid, An Everyday Anne, Serinekat, Lone Prairie, Living in His Mercy and Duregger.

"Grudges in old jars"

I love that line. It comes from the Newsboys song, "Million Pieces," about letting things go and giving them up to God. Here it is in its lyrical context:

Why you holdin' grudges in old jars?
Why you wanna show off all your scars?
What's it gonna take to lay a few burdens down?
It's a beautiful sound

Songs like this convict me -- I don't want to be a scar show-er offer. And I certainly don't want to keep my grudges nice and fresh in a dusty jar.

Emotional scars are important for two reasons: They are the sign of a healed wound, a reminder of God's grace in our past. Secondly, they are useful as part of our testimony to others. Outside of these two occasions, I'm hard-pressed to find a compelling reason to whip 'em out.

We ought to be discreet with our non-physical scars. Why? Because they came about when someone did us harm, and if we're not careful, those reminders turn into grudges.

I find myself in awe of people who speak Victimese exclusively -- the language of eternal victims. Everything in their world has been done TO them. Watch for it in a conversation; it's very strange. What a pity that 90% of the things these victims recall as being done to them is negative. How many more good things were done FOR them, or did they themselves do, that will never be recounted?

But I have to be careful here. As evidenced by this very blog, I can be all too eager to share my "injustices." I pray I'm not one to point out the spec in my neighbor's eye while ignoring the plank in my own. Lord, teach me to keep my pantry clear of grudge-filled jars, and may I only roll up my sleeves to reveal a scar when it demonstrates the healing balm of Your grace.

Man crush

I'm sure I've been over this before, but it is entirely possible for a woman to have the same kind of "man crush" that a guy does. A man crush can be defined as a completely platonic admiration for another dude. As in, my husband has a man crush on almost anyone who's played for the Husky basketball team. Or my happily married straight brother has a man crush on The Sports Guy. You get the idea.

So in my case, wouldn't this be called a "woman crush," you ask? No. Because my man crush is in fact a man. Confused yet? A girl's man crush can be defined as the kind of admiration for a man that makes you wish he were your uncle. As in, I have a man crush on Bono -- am not particularly attracted to him physically, but can't think of anything cooler than if he were my uncle. Any clearer?

What about you -- who's your man crush? Or woman crush for that matter?