Posts I like
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I think the world would be a better off place if more people were just honest with each other about things. Well, maybe not a better place, but a...
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CS Lewis. What a gentleman.
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I just realized that Radiohead’s song “Idioteque”
is meant to be pronounced “Idiotic”
and not like “Ideo-tech.”
…I went to college.
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“Hold everything in your hands lightly, otherwise it hurts when God pries your fingers open.”— Corrie ten Boom (via theseboneswillrejoice)
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“We’re not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be.”— C. S. Lewis, letter
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Giant.
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“Fiction is not a fad. It is a human survival strategy.”— Joseph Gold, Read for Your Life
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I surely hope so.
An Uncommon Woman
I’ve been married to my best friend for eight years. We dated for about four years prior to an eight month engagement. We were best friends for a year before we even started dating. In the same way that it doesn’t take a whole day to recognize sunshine, It didn’t take me all thirteen of those years to realize that I was sharing my life with an uncommon woman. Like a ray of light that warms your cheek on a cool spring morning, she has been as faithful as the sunrise. When the afternoon heat reaches its peak, like a cloud she casts a shadow of shade to cover me. Her mind and ideas and resourcefulness are matched in brilliance only by the sunset. “She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue. She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her: “Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.” Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised” (Proverbs 31:25-30).
My wife got me Coldplay tickets for our 8th anniversary. I think she loves me :)
Matthew Mayfield’s artist interpretation (can’t even call it a cover) of Where the Street’s Have No Name (U2). This is what I needed to start my day on the right foot.
Hip Hop Noob
As I type this I’m downloading my first hip hop album. Ever. I’ve heard a lot of chatter about a certain Lecrae (am I pronouncing that right?). One of my best mates, Josh Singh, has written a review of Lecrae’s album, Church Clothes. You can read it here.
“The Church is not an association that wishes to promote a certain cause. It is not about a cause. It is about the person of Jesus Christ.”
Pope Benedict XVI (via catholicthirst)
(via ruinedforgood)
I spent the day with a hammer and lumber and screws and assorted power tools. My current career paths (personal support worker; teaching assistant) don’t often provide opportunities for manual labour. I was happy to take on this task with the help of my wife, Rachel (who is a deck building machine) and my father-in-law (whose wisdom and know-how never cease to amaze me). We built a 16x16 deck inside eight hours, thus increasing our living space by 256 square feet!
On the day that news broke telling of Whitney Houston’s untimely death, my wife, Rachel, was shocked and appalled that although I knew who she was, I couldn’t name or sing along to any of her songs. Here’s a cover of her hit single I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Ben Rector. Rachel and I saw Ben open for Need to Breathe a couple of weeks ago, and the crowd was SO into this song. And, thanks to Rachel, I was able to sing along.
Page CXVI who also go by the name The Autumn Film are releasing a c.d. of Coldplay covers. How cool is that?
Going to see Need to Breathe tomorrow night with my lady. Can’t wait. Just found out Ben Rector is the opening act. That’s a nice treat.
Hope: when nightmares evolve into dreams
Over the last two years I’ve been having this reoccurring nightmare: I’m back in my final year of secondary school at Norwood District High School. I have one more course to complete before I can graduate - grade 12 math. It’s finals and I have one more exam to write. Just before I take the test I’m informed that I’ve skipped too many classes to pass the course. Panic sets in. I’m not going to graduate. I’m a failure.
The irony is that I never even completed grade 10 math. I convinced my guidance counsellor to exempt me from the course in lieu of extra english and history credits because I knew I was headed to bible college and Christians don’t believe in math or science.
The fact is, math is my nemesis. I’m down right lousy with numbers. I can do some basic addition and subtraction, but that’s about it. I tense right up when it comes to household budgeting. I break out in a full sweat when I’m converting a fraction into a percentage. My initial reaction is to dash and dine every time I’m faced with the arduous task of calculating an appropriate amount to tip my waitress. Math and I just don’t get along.
All that to say, the other night my nightmare evolved into…just a dream.
Everything unfolds as usual, except that when it comes time to face my teacher instead of telling me I’ve skipped too many classes, he says: “Ben, I know the pressure of writing this test in the allotted time frame will result in a lot of stress for you. Why don’t you take it home for the weekend and write it at your own pace. Oh…and don’t forget: you can use your calculator and it’s open book.”
(Sigh of relief.)
help! / help?
Jonah, my two-year-old son, has a vocabulary that is expanding on an hourly basis. My wife and I watch with interest and amazement as his grasp of the English language blossoms. Two elements that add to the cuteness factor are his lisp and his stutter. We suppress laughter (and sometimes tears) when he adds a “ssssssssth” to end of words like Buzz (i.e., Buzz Lightyear of Toy Story fame). The stutter seems to come around when he’s especially excited: specifically, when’s he asking for an “a - a - a - apple” or when we mention the name of his girl friend, “El - El - El - El - Ellie.”
There is, however, a word that he neither lisps nor stutters. The word, ‘help.’
He uses this word mainly in two contexts:
- After he’s had his fill of jumping on our bed, he wedges himself between the mattress and the footboard until all you can see is his cute little head. As the blood rushes to his noggin, he yells like a lumberjack: HELP!
- It’s my job to empty the dishwasher and every time he hears me open the door, he comes running from whatever trouble he’s getting himself and the dog into and sweetly asks, “Help?”
Asking for help and offering to help. I wish I could take credit for teaching him these two important life lessons, but he seems to have just acquired this wisdom somewhere along his short life. My prayer is that he carries this wisdom with him through childhood, into adolescence and long afterward.
Think about it: if we all asked for help when we needed it and offered to help when we saw someone in need, wouldn’t things just get along better?
