One Single Moment in Time

One event at a single moment in time can alter a life, impact the lives of countless people, change the course of the future.

My family spent this past weekend on a little get away to Oklahoma City. We just wanted to escape to someplace different. Besides shopping elbow to elbow with every Oklahoman in the state, we went to the Oklahoma City National Memorial and Museum. In the museum visitors walk through different "chapters" in the story ranging from the history of the site for the Alfred P. Murrah Building, the events on April 19,1995 when the bombing occurred and on through the stories of the victims, the families, the rescuers and others whose lives were impacted. It's a very moving exhibit.

Outside where the Murrah building and street used to be is a field of chairs representing those whose lives were lost in the building and a reflecting pool which is flanked on each side by two "Gates of Time." The wall-like gate to the east bears the time 9:01, the moment before the bombing. To the west the time displayed is 9:03, the moment after the bombing.

9:02 - That is the moment in time that changed everything for so many people. I can't imagine what some of those people have gone through and still go through. The final chapter in the museum is "Hope."

Tonight and tomorrow we will celebrate a moment in time when everything changed for the entire world. The Hope of Nations came to us. The angels sang in a glorious choir, the stars even declared the event. In spite of the hustle and bustle of the "holiday season" we can't escape knowing that Christmas is really about is the birth of Jesus Christ.

Though that event, the birth of Emmanuel, God with us, has impacted the history of the world, we must each choose how it will impact our lives. The moment one kneels at the manger and accepts all Jesus offers in His coming will be one of those moments that will alter their life, can impact the lives of countless others, and might very well change the very course of history.

Please, take a moment and change everything.

Random stuff 12/19

I really, REALLY need to get my hair cut. I kind of like the way I look when it's at the current length. But it's so easy when it's short. No blow drying, no comb needed, less static electricity. Hmmmm. I wonder which will win out, my vanity or my laziness. I suppose, looking around at the tops of the heads of so many other men my age I should just be glad I have hair.

My teenage daughter is always saying, "SNAP!" What's up with that? Do you think Crackle and Pop feel left out?

If when you're at The Olive Garden you are supposed to be family, why do they make you pay for the meal? I guess I'd better bring my checkbook with me to my folks' for the Christmas Eve dinner. I just hope the service is good. I'd never hear the end of it if I stiffed my mom on the tip.

I feel very disenfranchised by Nyack College. When I was there we were the Fighting Parsons and purple and white were our colors. In 1998 they changed to the Purple Pride. That only lasted until 2004 when they became the Warriors and changed the colors to crimson with navy blue and gray accents. I'll NEVER wear anything that has the Nyack Warriors on it. YUCK! I am proud of and passionate about my perfect, precious, purple, Parsons. Bring 'em back!

Driving home yesterday the person on the radio said Christmas was right around the corner. Well, then I turned right, around the corner and it wasn't there. Just goes to show you can't believe everything you hear.

Should I be concerned that my 13 year-old was reciting complete scenes of dialogue from Finding Nemo (which we haven't watched in a long time) to me in the van yesterday yet can't remember his mother telling him to bring up his dirty laundry five minutes ago?

I think I would be fat if it weren't for the Internet. I used to spend my lunch hour eating. But now I have so much fun surfing and reading stuff that I forget to eat.

Misc Christmas Pics

Is it a sign?

I've just come off a really good week. Sure I still had all the normal everyday stuff going on like stressful deadlines at work and the evening family shuttle bus routes. But on the inside it's really been great. I started blogging my daily Bible reading journal and didn't miss a day. I also listened to K-LOVE all day at work in place of the normal news/talk station.

Anyway, early last week I was really praying about(hey, now don't snicker about this) my minivan. It's about 8 years old with 112,000 miles on it and is at that age where it seems every few months something else really needs to be fixed. We've thought about buying something else. But it really isn't in the budget. And a major repair bill wouldn't be fun to deal with either.

For about a month (okay, maybe longer) it's had this irritating light come on and stay on that says "service traction system" whenever a sharp turn is made. This also prompts the "ABS" light to come on. I'm sure (well, fairly sure. I'm no mechanic and I didn't learn a thing about cars in any of my New Testament Greek or world missions classes in college.) it really doesn't affect the driving or braking ability of the vehicle. And I've been driving on ice and snow without the aid of a traction control system in other vehicles for years.

Well, the "reminder" (That sounds so much nicer than "warning.) lights haven't come on again. I know it may seem silly. And I know God does really care about everything in our lives, even the little things. But do you think maybe Jesus healed my van? Sure, I know He can and we hear stories all the time about miracles like this that God does for missionaries when something breaks and stuff. I'm very torn between feeling like I'm somehow being disrespectful of God, thinking He would bother with such a trivial thing as healing my van, and being very convicted because I lack the level of faith to believe that He would do such a thing.

Just Random Stuff

I've spent waaaaaaaaay too much time this week thinking about serious things. So I'm going to take a brief mental vacation with no set itinerary and no garmin to tell me where to turn. Let's hit the highway, shall we.

I have somewhere between 200 and 400 albums sitting in my basement. (Those are those big black "CDs" for those of you born after the Carter administration.) One of my pre-Christmas purchases is a USB turntable. Though I don't want it to consume all of my spare time, (You know, the hours between 11:00pm and 6:00am.), I am really looking forward to converting much of that to a usable form. Back in the day I was quite... um... compulsive about my records. I had a directory of every album; what song, which track number, when produced. I had the same kind of directory for my alphabetized comic book collection. Hmmmmm. Maybe I really was a nerd or geek or whatever the term as way back then.

I used to be a very picky eater. No, really. I mean even more picky than I am today if you can imagine that. I don't think I would have ever tried broccoli if it weren't for wanting to be polite and impress Lesly's mom when they had me over. I never ate mac & cheese until my sophomore year of college. I had my very first orange the winter of my senior year of college. Oh but I did love (and still do) my M&M's. I figure I averaged over half a pound a day my freshman year. Then I put all the M&M's "Pounder" bags on my dorm room wall like wallpaper, alternating between plain and peanut in a beautiful yellow and brown checkerboard pattern. And I didn't even gain any weight! (You can see the skinny me on my facebook wall)

Why is it that when there's ice on the side of the road people drive thirty miles under the speedlimit. But when the ice is covering the road the seem to go 30 MPH above it?

I always get confused. Does a westerly breeze mean the wind is blowing out of the west and to the east or out of the east and to the west? And when it's already raining outside, why does the weatherman come on and say something like, "There's an 80% chance of rain today." If it's raining right then wouldn't it be a 100% chance of rain?

How unfair is it when the city tells us we should use less water and then complains that their revenue is down because people aren't using as much water so they need to raise the rates? Why is crabgrass called crabGRASS and not crabWEED? I'd feel so much more inclined to try and rid my lawn of it if it were a weed and not just another form of grass.

And finally, since my cat poops in the litterbox should I throw my litter away in a poop can?

DayVee Goes Retro

Thanks to my teenagers I’ve recently discovered Facebook. It’s been really fun tracking down people I knew decades ago and renewing old friendships. It’s like playing a combination of my own private versions of “Where are they now?” and “This Is Your Life.” But this stroll down Memory Lane has brought several interesting things within me to the surface.

Obviously to start with, I am getting OLD! Sure I don’t feel like it most days. (I can still run faster than any of my kids!) But I see a name that I should recognize and it takes me several moments to place them and dust out the cobwebs to really remember anything about them or a shared experience. I haven’t seen or spoken to some of these people over half my lifetime ago.

Which of course brings up the fact that I am such a terrible “keep-in-toucher.” There is but one person from my high school years on my current Christmas card list and the same goes for my college years. And I can’t even remember when the last phone conversation I had with either of them was. And it’s not like I was a real loner way back then. I think I was kind of fun and very social. I wish I had the “gift” my dad has. I call him Mr. Friendly. He is so good at all the people kind of stuff.

And though I have many fond memories of past things and people, the first thing that usually pops into my brain as I reconnect is a regret about some way I recall in which I was not as nice to them as I should have been or some other such way in which I think I may have wronged them. Then I feel silly because if I do bring it up the other person doesn’t even have a clue about whatever it is I’m making an apology for.

I understand that who I am today is such a mixture of my past experiences and those who touched my life in small and big ways. Somewhere along the line I suppose I got this warped idea that living in the now and not in the past means never, ever looking back so that’s pretty much what I’ve done. But in doing that I’m sure I’ve missed the many blessings these past friendships may have produced. Now I’ve got A LOT of catching up to do. This should be fun!

Rescue

This Advent my pastor is doing a series call "The Great Rescue." A week ago he started with God's creation of man for relationship with Himself, the fall, and the promise of the rescue to come.

I used to think Adam and Eve were so stupid. How could they, after experiencing perfect fellowship with God before the fall, make the choice to throw that all away by violating the only boundary they had? But as I mature I've become much more sympathetic and less critical of their situation. I guess I see myself so much more in Adam than I used to. I know the thousands of times I've failed to stand firm against temptations or chosen to listen to the voice that tells me "Surely you won't die." What is it within us that makes us want to stand right on the edge of a boundry, getting as close as we can to crossing the line? Shouldn't we be smart enough to know boundaries are for protecting us? Why don't we just avoid walking by the tree that tempts us so it won't even be on our mind?

It really makes me long for heaven. I'm so greatful for The Great Rescuer.

How I Spend My Lunchtime

My youngest son will turn 10 this month. All he's been begging for is a hamster. His older brother had one and his older sister currently has two. So we yielded to his wishes and got one for him this past Sunday. But something didn't seem quite right with this hamster from the very beginning. I don't know, maybe it's because my son named her Snowball even though she was dark colored, speckled and long haired. She also made these terrible noises when you tried to pick her up. And she had this odd odor. Much more stinky than just your normal hamster odor.

**

Once we got the little critter home and in her spanking new cage she just didn't seem very interested in exploring like every other hamster I've ever known. At first I thought she was just traumatized by the whole process of being in a new environment. So we all let her be for a day to allow her to acclimate to her new home. On day two she still didn't seem very hamster-like. No real running on her wheel. No stuffing her pouches full of food and hiding it in her bedding area. Not much activity at all.

Well, I knew something more was wrong than just being the new fur ball on the block. So last night (that would be Wednesday and we got the hamster on Sunday) we decided we would return the little animal, get a refund and look for a suitable replacement at a different store. Today I decided I would save my son from any odd feeling he might experience in taking the pet back so I went home over lunch to make the return. Boy am I glad I did. Poor little Snowball had gone on to that giant running wheel in the sky. So, doing my duty as a dad I hurried up and cleaned the cage as thoroughly as I could to rid it of any remaining health hazards and prepare it for a new occupant. (I wonder, do hamsters worry about things like living in a house where a death just occurred? Do I need to have the new animal sign a disclaimer that I've disclosed the history of their dwelling to them? Help me any of you animal attorneys out there.)

Then I put "the remains" back in the little box in which we brought her home and proceeded to the pet store. Here's a recap of that exchange.

"I need to return this hamster."

"What's the problem?"

"It has expired. I only bought it Sunday."

"Hmmmm. It seems we've been having a lot of bad luck with our hamsters lately. So do you want to exchange it or get a refund?"

"I'll just take the refund."

Needless to say, we'll get our replacement at a different store that is having better "luck" with their hamsters.

** Not an actual picture of the deceased hamster.