Me lanc holy

Dreaming and not doing lends to more time to crank out writings. Tranquility is the breeding ground I'm talking about. But life doesn't exist in the tranquil, does it? Crises give impulse to action, growth, betterment. Casualties are lost, causing some to live. Stillness, given the second law of thermodynamics of the spiritual things (without Spirit) lets rot fester, cool ponds heat up and stagnate, bright lights and energy dim. It's easy to sleep in the light, but it's hard to write in the dark.

Seems an impossible situation. Can't have your cake, and eat it too. I didn't use to understand what that meant, when I only dreamt.

Hey...I'm in Love

my fingers keep on clickin to the beatin of my heart...

with...

...driving?

...seeing old friends?

...illegitimate yet dear and beautiful children?

Yes!

...and no.

...just "in love."

I've been pleasantly surprised and blessed by a road trip to Choctaw, Oklahoma to see Gloria for her birthday on the 9th. The idea lay from nowhere midway through the 7th, gestated quickly and hatched before the day was out. The youngling grew substantially on the 8th, whereupon I drove the 600+ miles in a rented Toyota Camry. Thechick remained robust and scratched the ground eagerly with the full vigor of it's instinctual genetic healthitude by the time we reached our destination at 12:30 a.m. on the 9th, and it's last lively feather shot up with a surprise "staff meeting" at 2:00 pm.

Ok, enough with the chickens.

On the way up, over a Frappe (con acento sobre la "e"), mom and I enjoyed the company of Marcela Noemy (!) in Denton, and I finally saw the famous joe's addiction seedy-in-a-good-way dive, albeit not in action at 12:15 a.m. We experienced the yumminess of spending time with Gloria and Will, bright eyes Rain, and tinkerer Blaze, and received some emotional and encouraging hellos and hugs from beloved people I have not seen in over 6 years.

I like it when some things don't change. When many things do change, and often, I've come to enjoy the things that are reliably same. Bebe still walks down to the road in the mornings to gather the mail, and still plays the kids games with the kids, like a kid, though she's in her fifties.

I was back on the rake and dumping the eternal accumulation of debris into the ever-burning fires again with Dr. Jim West. My times up there on Oak Hill began working the grounds under the command of General West, and it's appropriate to let it always be that way. Remind me to talk about Work some day.

Hitting the road south again in the afternoon on Saturday, I had this strange feeling. It took me a little while to identify it, but it wasn't completely unfamiliar. It was the feeling of being "in love." (I have on rare and far flung occasions felt such a thing.) I'm in love with the ways God surprises me. I like good surprises. I'm in love with the people who reflect the passions of God, and who have been directed in their lives by Christ likeness toward the Heart of God. I love how my fear at meeting these type of people is each and every time replaced by joy and a gladness that I did not avoid the meeting.

I wasn't going to go on this trip, but did because I didn't want mom to try to drive all that way by herself. But I did go, and though nothing dramatic happened to the awareness of others, I for one, was blessed because I went.

On the way back, I routed us a little west so as to hit Anson, Texas (this is true archetypcal postcard image Texas, Texas) wherewith we visited my mom's brother and his wife, daughter, and grandson, Mark. (and some chickens) We arrived close to midnight, slept, had fresh range chicken eggs and biscuits, and went to Fort Phantom Baptist Church at 9:45.

"Nine forty-five, nine forty-five;

Gotta be in Sunday school at nine forty-five..."

Love that church. Small, humble, quaint, old, but not fake, and not in the apathetic delusion of shirking ekklesia responsibility. First time I've had the opportunity to pray WITH other believers in years.

I was floored by little Mark. Sitting next to the three year old, in the back of my uncle Jimmy's red Toyota forerunner, I was mercifully given a tangible reminder of all the illegitimate, yet precious and God-sought little ones there are in here in this little world we are, as Kingdom heirs, responsible for. I like kids, and have considered that in the event of marriage, as many kids as allowable is a must, but here, as I watched this little red-headed clueless Mark, I think I felt a small piece of how much God cherishes the little guy. Is the desire to raise up children to Godliness and love, and to rescue orphans all by itself enough of a reason to seek marriage? I'd almost say so. Lo menos, as far as listing items in the "pros" column for marriage, I think fruitfulness in raising up God-fearing and loving children outweighs all other "pros."

Oh, and for lunch, we had squash from the garden, butter/mashed potatoes, and steak!

Biblical Accounts of Fasting

Moses fasted for forty days and forty nights, back-to-back, without food or water; the first, immediately before he received the tablets on the mountain with God. And the second, after coming down, seeing the Israelites practicing idolatry, and breaking the tablets in anger.

Deuteronomy 9:7-21

It is often assumed that Moses was under some super magic-from-God help mode when he went through this time in his life. Maybe so, but sometimes I wonder if it's possible to fast without water. Maybe back then the genetic strength of mankind hadn't declined so far as it has today. Maybe people were originally designed to gain fat, and then go into times of fasting for hinder-less communion with the God who walked in the garden with Adam. Maybe the fat was supposed to not only sustain the calorie needs while fasting, but also contained enough water to keep from dehydrating while fasting. I'd need to check this, but I think it is possible to go without water longer if you're not eating, compared to when you are eating.

Beats Canned

If you ask me what kind of foods I like, the answer is easier to handle if I just list the two things I consistently don't like. It used to be three: I didn't like rice growing up--so bland and chore-like to eat--but that's before I met real rice, prepared the way it's supposed to be prepared in Taiwan. (It's supposed to end up kind of sticky, and clumps together so you can grab it with your chopsticks.)

But today, I can only say that I don't care for 1.) hominy, and 2.) beets. And now, I have to amend that second one.


This is not grape juice:






Walking to Sun Harvest three or four days ago, we encountered and bought raw beets, with their greens, and have been experimenting with new additions to salads, etc. The greens are great! With a very good stout flavor, and a noticeable earthiness, they are a worthy backbone for a spinach, olive, Parmesan, oil and vinegar salad. The root part is decently edible too, unlike their canned or pickled counterpart.

Today I took the rest of one of the roots I had grated, and some "soup" I had boiled and chilled from beet and spinach stems and blended it up with some carrots, half of a tomato, spinach leaves, apple juice, and ice to create naturally sweet, earthy, but light-feeling drink. It really goes down well, and leaves no aftertaste. It contains quite a bit of insoluble matter which you may want to strain out, but I enjoy.