So, having now flashed my BIOS (no, it's nothing risque) my double-the-memory upgrade has FINALLY yielded the desired results. Still much reinstallation to do though.
I knew you'd want to know...
Thursday, March 6, 2008
Thursday, September 20, 2007
The Importance of Being Right... by a Leftie
Have you ever been right? Known it deep down? But no one else would hear you? How do you like being around someone who's always right? Not someone who always HAS to be right, or who flaunts always being right (or always flaunts being right) - someone who actually IS ALWAYS right. By now you're thinking that this is all just hypothetical, for there isn't anyone like that. Au contraire! There is someone like that. I talk to Him almost (?) every day. He doesn't make me feel stupid just because I am. He is so kind and gentle when I have made a mess. He gets down beside me on his knees to clean it up. He will gently clean me too, for my messes splash all over, onto places I don't see or can't reach. Sometimes a mere gentle wipe is all that is needed; sometimes He has to scrub so hard it hurts. Most often that happens when the sludge has been on me for some time and has dried there. The sooner I go to Him, the easier it is to clean up, for Him to clean me up.
I remember one time - it was quite a while ago - when no one would listen to him. (Well, almost no one; there were a few, but they really had no influence, just stood by and watched, silent.) He was right of course - always was. They got so mad! They were so mad they wanted to kill Him - did kill Him actually.
Sometimes I'm right (Hey, we all have a 50/50 shot), but no one will listen. Or else they listen and nod, but then ignore. I asked Him about that ('cause He is always right, y'know), and he said, "Follow me." So I looked at what He did when He was right and everyone else wrong. Thing is, it wasn't merely a matter of personal preference, but of life and death. It wasn't about carpet or chairs or pews or music or building projects or money; it was actually important. It wasn't about perceived snubs and cliques and miscommunications, but about life. About missing it. It actually mattered. So I looked at the words He used to address the situation - "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." Later, "It is finished." Let me pay; paid in full.
Sometimes I'm right (Hey, we all have a 50/50 shot), but no one will listen. Or else they listen and nod, but then ignore. I asked Him about that ('cause He is always right, y'know), and he said, "Follow me." So I looked at what He did when He was right and everyone else wrong. Thing is, it wasn't merely a matter of personal preference, but of life and death. It wasn't about carpet or chairs or pews or music or building projects or money; it was actually important. It wasn't about perceived snubs and cliques and miscommunications, but about life. About missing it. It actually mattered. So I looked at the words He used to address the situation - "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." Later, "It is finished." Let me pay; paid in full.
So I guess the question is, do I want to be, like, right?
Or do I want to be like Christ?
Or do I want to be like Christ?
Friday, September 14, 2007
What if…
…everything I believe is wrong? Not about my Lord (Well actually, my theology may BE screwed up, but at least I know He is trustworthy - that's what I mean), but everything else. My political stance, my social bias, my views on spiritual things, child rearing, family, church, etc. What if I am all wrong? (Brent, not a word from the peanut gallery!)
I guess I’ve started thinking about this more after having read the Reader’s Digest article about the falsely accused lacrosse players at Duke University. During the debacle, Duke athletic director Joe Alleva made the statement, “It’s not about the truth anymore. It’s about the faculty, the special-interest groups, the protesters, our reputation, the integrity of the university.” When I read that, I recalled a STTNG phrase – the first duty is to the truth. It’s always about the truth. Always. Not about convenience, not about competency, not about reputation, not even about consequences. “Speak the truth.” Another STTNG admonition from the Edo mediator.
I guess I’ve started thinking about this more after having read the Reader’s Digest article about the falsely accused lacrosse players at Duke University. During the debacle, Duke athletic director Joe Alleva made the statement, “It’s not about the truth anymore. It’s about the faculty, the special-interest groups, the protesters, our reputation, the integrity of the university.” When I read that, I recalled a STTNG phrase – the first duty is to the truth. It’s always about the truth. Always. Not about convenience, not about competency, not about reputation, not even about consequences. “Speak the truth.” Another STTNG admonition from the Edo mediator.
What if...
…everyone we see as deprived in one way or another, is in reality far better off than we? The idiot-savant, incredibly gifted. The Down's Syndrome individual, amazingly loving. The paraplegic with Hawking mind. Our intellect is, after all, affected by the effects of sin multiplied throughout the centuries. We don’t understand, CAN’T understand, because our understanding is warped, our thought process damaged. And if, as I personally believe (though I may be wrong of course), the mind is the link between the physical and the spiritual, having both qualities of tangibility and intangibility; perhaps the one who “hears the voices” is truly the one with a window to another world, while we are the deprived. One schizophrenic acquaintance of my father-in-law described his condition thus: I’m able to hear and see things that other people can’t.
It would be just like my Papa, who is smiling knowingly right now as I write this, to give major ruling responsibilities in heaven to that weird lady who always wears the big hat, while I get to scrub the toilets. With a toothbrush. Oh no, never mind; that would be punishment, and Jesus already took care of that. Anyway, wouldn’t that be just like the One Whose ways are 180° from our own, and He tells us so, lest we knew the confused (i.e., wrong) about it. “My ways are not your ways" – a paraphrase of Isaiah 55:8
…everyone we see as deprived in one way or another, is in reality far better off than we? The idiot-savant, incredibly gifted. The Down's Syndrome individual, amazingly loving. The paraplegic with Hawking mind. Our intellect is, after all, affected by the effects of sin multiplied throughout the centuries. We don’t understand, CAN’T understand, because our understanding is warped, our thought process damaged. And if, as I personally believe (though I may be wrong of course), the mind is the link between the physical and the spiritual, having both qualities of tangibility and intangibility; perhaps the one who “hears the voices” is truly the one with a window to another world, while we are the deprived. One schizophrenic acquaintance of my father-in-law described his condition thus: I’m able to hear and see things that other people can’t.
It would be just like my Papa, who is smiling knowingly right now as I write this, to give major ruling responsibilities in heaven to that weird lady who always wears the big hat, while I get to scrub the toilets. With a toothbrush. Oh no, never mind; that would be punishment, and Jesus already took care of that. Anyway, wouldn’t that be just like the One Whose ways are 180° from our own, and He tells us so, lest we knew the confused (i.e., wrong) about it. “My ways are not your ways" – a paraphrase of Isaiah 55:8
What about...
New thought. So when Sam when missing I agonized over her loss. Watching an eagle snatch up baby meerkat Len made my heart cry out “Noooo!” Then when his little brother, Squiggy, succumbed to the harsh Kalahari desert, simply because he was weak and unable to keep up, it (my heart) sunk to my feet like a stone to the bottom of the ocean. How is it that can I feel such emotion for God’s creatures that have no spirit, and have disregard for the ones created in his image? Since generating compassion within my own heart is not within my purview (i.e., not my job), I go to the Spirit for my heart work. (Rhymes with artwork.) I really don’t know what to do with this compassion I feel for animals, except allow it to demonstrate to me on a gut level, what our Papa feels for His own children, those lost and wandering, those snatched up by the enemy, and also those safe at home.
New thought. So when Sam when missing I agonized over her loss. Watching an eagle snatch up baby meerkat Len made my heart cry out “Noooo!” Then when his little brother, Squiggy, succumbed to the harsh Kalahari desert, simply because he was weak and unable to keep up, it (my heart) sunk to my feet like a stone to the bottom of the ocean. How is it that can I feel such emotion for God’s creatures that have no spirit, and have disregard for the ones created in his image? Since generating compassion within my own heart is not within my purview (i.e., not my job), I go to the Spirit for my heart work. (Rhymes with artwork.) I really don’t know what to do with this compassion I feel for animals, except allow it to demonstrate to me on a gut level, what our Papa feels for His own children, those lost and wandering, those snatched up by the enemy, and also those safe at home.
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