Who am I to say the word of God has errors?

Is God inept at written communication? 2 Timothy 3:16 says, “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness.”

Does God know the future?
Did God know that men would translate his word into every written language over and over again?
Did he know “scholars” would challenge it?
Did he know “scientists” would challenge it?
Did he have a plan for any of that?

Jesus said in Matthew 5:17-18, "Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. I tell you the truth, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished.”

Oh, but ... but Lord, you see, I speak English and well, you know, the Bible I have isn't the original... and I don't have the time to research whether my English translations are reliable because you know I sell stuff on eBay for a living and I like playing Battlezone with my kids and that can be time-consuming, so it seems a little reasonable (in my own wisdom and understanding) to at least be skeptical, especially since the Discovery channel has explained with such an overwhelming consensus that there was this big bang and the Earth is apparently millions of years old and ... Lord, an ark? Really? You couldn't have known about the translations or the Discovery channel or eBay or how ridiculous an ark or the parting of a sea would sound to this around me, could you?

Isaha 29:14
Therefore once more I will astound these people with wonder upon wonder; the wisdom of the wise will perish, the intelligence of the intelligent will vanish."

Psalm 33:4
For the word of the LORD is right and true; he is faithful in all he does.

Thank you for the gas

to make it through these past two weeks. Once again this seemed like the miracle of the fish and the loaves.

Thank you for working out my finances once again this week. Once again you have shown me that even though a little obedience may be no greater than filthy rags, it is you who reaches down far to grip anything willing at all and turn it into the peace-of-mind it should not have been.

Thank you again for the recent reports of my children, for the things they share, for their love and open hearts.

Thank you for how you have watched over me and shown your grace. Help me to remain there always. You know what happens when I think myself wise enough to solve anything at all. Help me to be a peaceful 'fool', one who does not need his own knowledge or wisdom because it can all be supplied.

My Coworker Doesn't Prefer Death

As I was pulling the remaining turkey off bones for storage this afternoon it occurred to me that the atheist coworker prefers to live. A week ago he and my liberal church-going friend were having a conversation behind my back as I sat at my computer at work not feeling particularly led into the conversation at the time. This coworker told my friend that he decided that people who believe in God, believe in an afterlife, believe in a soul, do so because they fear death.

Yet today as I sat at the kitchen table with fingers greased in pan oil and turkey fat, I was thinking back to this conversation and I realised that this man's apparent age of 40 or more years testifies that there is something about this life that he prefers as well. What is the suicide rate among atheists? I bet it's not 50%. I bet it's not even close. I bet the vast majority of atheists prefer something in the living of this life to the idea of the cesation of existence. I wonder who really fears death more?

This is a tricky deception. This man needs help but I can not do a single good thing on my own to help him. I do not know if or how God will use me in this man's life, only Jesus saves. I can pray for willingess, if God ever gave me the right words, but maybe God will use others as well, even my liberal friend.

How Quick Oats Gave Me Back My Life

Great Value Quick Oats are a marvel of modern science. With the ordinary Wal-Mart Great Value brand of oats, the stove-top cooking time is 3-5 minutes over medium heat. Modern breakthroughs in high-technology research and development have recently produced the miracle product, Quick Oats, which cooks in a single minute. How did they do it?

Dishes did not get washed yesterday as we were gone the majority of the day and returned late last night, so I had to wash up a pan and a bowl and a measuring cup and a nylon serving utensil. After this I measured out the required amount of water and turned the burner to medium heat, adding a dash of salt.

Now water of course takes its time getting up to a boil, but the speed of boiling had nothing to do with the scope of the research by the crack team of lab techs that brought the world Quick Oats. We all have to wait for water to boil at some point in our lives, and maybe someday the clever minds at Great Value will wow us with a new way to do that as well. It's not fair to include the cleaning up of dishes or the speed of boiling water when weighing the astounding advancement in the time-saving conveniences of Quick Oats.

Now I am free to do the things I want to do, to live my life the way I've always wanted to. Now you may find me on a jet ski in the Caribbean or cycling through the countryside in Switzerland. I might write a novel, a symphony, or learn the craft of woodworking. I might do any number of these things ... after, of course, I've cleaned up all the dishes from the Quick Oats.

Awaiting Turkey

I am waiting on a turkey to come out of the oven tonight before I can go to bed. I dig one out of the freezer every once and a while, typically in a week when we've run low on other things. I started cooking it when I got home from work. I'll taste a little tonight but the majority is for later.

I have other things I've been wanting to write about, just haven't had the time. Maybe soon.

Things Keep Breaking

From BibleGateway in Matthew 6:25"Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? 26Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?

This week could be filled with worry and I remembered these verses this morning. Today I have the choice to trust more. I've begun to feel better now just in these last few minutes.

Why are McD's fries different lengths?

They seem perfectly proportioned except in length. I can't imagine them hand-cut to achieve such perfection in width and depth. Of course I can't really imagine them made out of potato either.

I took my younger son bowling tonight and then to McD's. I was thankful for the electronic scoring so I didn't have to make up my own system (one point for gutters, two for knocking pins down, three for staying on your feet). It was a good match-up because neither one of us really looked like we knew what we were doing. I did find myself giving him pointers like "keep your wrist straight" and "point your palm at the center of the pins" and "try to release before the ball reaches the pinnacle of your upstroke." I'm sure whoever is responsible for insurance claims would thank me for that last one.

Grid Slice

I've puzzled it out now and think I've decided why McD's fries are of different lengths but perfectly proportioned in width and depth. Imagine a grid made out of metal as sharp as a razor. Now imagine that grid knife stamping down on a potato shape standing up on its end.

So here's my theory: McD's mixes a concoction of lab chemicals and salt into a paste-like substance that is poured into potato molds which are later exposed to UVA rays or some other process that causes them to harden in the shape of a potato. Then they are sliced on a conveyor by a robot arm with a grid knife, just before traveling through the tunnel of golden brown paint sprayers. The result would be fries of near perfect width and depth proportions (though a few would be triangular) but varrying in length.

Blah

Kids are gone again. I have one here and we did some fun stuff today. He wanted to go across the street for a little bit now though and play at the neighbors. Sometimes I don't know what to do with myself when the kids aren't here. That's strange. Sometimes when they are here I think of things I think I want to do without them but give them the priority anyway. Then in moments like these, I forget what it was I thought I wanted to do.

angry with the cell phone

It's a remarkable technology, I know, but I wasn't happy with it tonight. I don't have one but one was traveling with my kids tonight on a highway somewhere in Florida and I was trying to talk to my youngest daughter who I am really missing. There were dropouts and static and it was frustrating. I wanted her to know that I was here, wanting to hear about her day and the things she wanted to tell me. It's great technology and I wouldn't even have the opportunity without it, but tonight it didn't seem nearly good enough.

I can't wait til they return. Being without them got old quick.

Liberal Empathy

Since becoming friends with a political liberal and after many discussions about politics and government, I've been searching for a simple way to empathize with him, to put on his glasses and understand the core of his arguments. Something occurred to me this past week and I may be able to explain his perspective in simpler terms than I have before, but I'm not yet confident that I truly do have a handle on the essence.

In the past liberals have appeared to me to be an eclectic collection of special interest groups that don't fit into a systematic theory of government. Not only does my friend have a systematic theory of government, but he has also believed conservatives to be a collection of special-interests without a systematic approach. If you like to negotiate with your fists, burn Styrofoam, shoot guns, horde wealth, and block influence and opportunity for people who aren't like you, you could find a home in the right wing, he thought.

I still think there are those single-issue groups in each camp only because the other camp is not hospitable. My friend is not one of those single-issue people and doesn't adopt the views many of them bring along with their voting blocs to his camp. He is pro-life and anti-gay-marriage, for example.

There have been some aha! moments for each of us as we explored our viewpoints. One of them came in the form of a hypothetical question he posed to me about preemptive strikes. He asked if I was nearly certain that one of five men was going to kill my daughter but I did not know which one, would I kill all five?

We gave all the appropriate disclaimers of the hypothetical nature of the question and could not with certainty predict our bravery and emotions as they would factor in as wild cards if actually faced with such a thing, but my answer was generally “yes” and his was generally “no”. He could not justify wasting four lives, maybe even five, to save the one, and I could not justify allowing that which God has placed under my stewardship to be destroyed, as I am charged to “rescue the weak and needy” and “deliver them from the hand of the wicked” in Psalm 82.

We both use the Bible to explain our viewpoints on government. He challenges me with “turn the other cheek” and ministry to the poor. He sites Acts 2:44-45 as a foundation for his socialism, where:
“All the believers were together and had everything in common. Selling their possessions and goods, they gave to anyone as he had need. “

What struck me this week was the device in literature known as “narrative viewpoint”. My friend is right that I am to be generous and turn the other cheek while seeking peace. It is my viewpoint that I am to apply these moral standards to myself in the first-person. It is his viewpoint that he is to apply these standards to myself in the second-person. So who is forcing their morality on who?

I want to teach my daughter to turn the other cheek in forgiveness, indeed even to lay down her life if ever absolutely necessary, for her friends. But if wickedness strikes her in the face, Jesus does not instruct me to turn her cheek for her. If that ever happens the dude is going down... maybe even in preemption.

Algae

I once had a fascinating conversation with a bio-hazard engineer. He told me about his study of microorganisms that could be used to clean up oil spills or even radioactive material after a nuclear accident. Since then I've had the awareness that tiny little lifeforms can get rid of bad things, but I hadn't yet considered that they could produce good things until yesterday.

Right now we seem to have a bit of an oil shortage. We actually don't, what we really have is a lot of political and economic warfare and the perception that there is a shortage of oil. When the perception changes the price changes (and when enemies we are dependent upon try to crash the dollar... that's another topic).

Innovative companies like Algenol may hopefully soon change the perception about the availability of oil. I just heard about this interesting technology on the radio, the process of training algae to secrete ethanol:
http://www.reuters.com/article/environmentNews/idUSN1032368520080611

Was there a purpose today?

I think I did a thousand little, unrelated things that accomplished about a thousand insignificant purposes. Now I am exhausted and have little to show for it or explain what happened. It is over now and the best part seems only the pillow that awaits.

One Unchanging Peace

While the world spirals wildly about and death seems to spill from every alluring place, there is one peace that has been even before time. The only way to life, the only lit path is Jesus. You have to know Jesus.

Success

is measured in different ways for me today. Today was a success and not just "an" answer to prayer but rather "the" answer that I was hoping for. People pray for good things to happen, but our understanding of "good"can sometimes be limited to a certain piece of a puzzle that we look at with tunnel vision whereas God sees the big picture. This, I think, is why bad things happen in the first place, and sometimes why well-meaning prayers prayed according to God's will seem to get the "no" answer.

But today in limited wisdom I got the answer I had hoped. My children and I survived a tough trip somewhat gracefully.

My Vacation Home

is about 10'x10' and it is one of the best places for me to be. I have rid myself of almost all of my belongings in the years leading up to right now, and the things that remain are relatively low maintenance and extremely valuable. Nearly everything serves a purpose and every now and then, like today, I reevaluate and discard something thats time has passed to make more prominent that which is a treasure. There is space enough to play a game with the kids or watch a movie or read a book near someone surfing the Web. I can travel all over the world from here and learn a little about almost any subject. I can write music, paint, or enjoy a homemade cappuccino. I can open the windows and listen to the rain or allow the poor little Bonsai access to the sun.

I visit here nearly twice a day, because it is so close to my family. It is an undeserved gift from God. I don't know that I'll always have it, it is a luxury, one that I am very grateful for right this moment.

Change

I've noticed Barack Obama isn't all that specific about policies. If I were running for president, I think I'd want to be specific about just what kind of changes I might bring. Here's a partial platform of my own:

If you vote for me I'll sell the US Postal Service to the highest US bidders. Same for Amtrak, the Tennessee Valley Authority, the National Railroad Passenger Corporation, and the Corporation for Public Broadcasting, among others.

I'll immediately sell 30% of the land the government owns to energy companies for oil drilling, coal mining, nuclear power plants, oil refineries, or other such endeavors. The other 70% will be under review and much of that may end up getting sold as well. I may decide that places like Area 51 though are actually important for defense and continue to reserve that land for government use only.

I'll legalize all drugs and end the war on drugs. Nobody has ever suggested outlawing antifreeze or rat poison and we're not spending billions on those products trying to control traffic and fight related crimes.

I'll stop all federal funding and lift all federal regulation on education.

With all the sales of government property and assets and the closing of so many offices like the NEA, I'm not anticipating needing nearly as much tax revenue, but for now I'll only get rid of the majority of the IRS and make a flat federal tax of 5% on most goods and services, to be collected by the states and forwarded on to the two or three remaining IRS agents. These remaining IRS agents will then determine how much money we currently need to pay off existing Social Security entitlements before we stop that program altogether. Once they know that then they can make a recommendation on how much I can further lower the 5% on goods and services, and at that point those two or three remaining IRS agents will have worked themselves out of a job. Everything else can then be handled by the two remaining officials in the Treasury Department.

I'll propose a constitutional amendment to establish US citizenship at the moment of conception from citizen parents.

I'll build patrolled physical, technological, and psychological border fences. Everyone will know that they are there and what to expect when they get anywhere near them. Nobody will want to get anywhere near them.

Wealthy Americans and businesses will have scads of money back in their pockets that they can use to create more jobs or give directly to the poor, cutting out the bloated middleman/government who thinks it's a charity.

Windfall profits will be encouraged.

Price-gouging will simply be bad for business with so many new competitors.

A Neighbor Across the Street,

via my children, invited me over for ice cream tonight after their dinner. He and his wife and I sat out in lawn chairs in their front yard, facing my house and others, chatting about kids and work and animals and economics and other things. It was just an all-around pleasant evening. I was once again impressed with the fragility of life and the simultaneous quality of it, the death that everything seems to funnel toward, and the gentle hints of the fantastic purpose hoped for. These neighbors have had health issues. Very serious issues, as I found out only by the meandering paths of conversation. You'd never know it from their smiles and mild ways, their enjoyment of the outdoors and ice cream and their young son.

Will Chambers Was Late Again

Before there were massive TV screens in nearly every living room in America, nearly every pub and restaurant, retail store and shopping mall, there were smaller TV screens in far fewer places. Before even that there were books.

Books are remarkable. So low-tech, yet an hour of books is often packed with far greater knowledge than the equivalent span of time with a talking head and fancy graphics. My appreciation for them is on the upswing once again, even non-fiction, which is unusual for me, but I've been thinking today about fiction.

I don't know that I'll ever find the time to write a novel, but if I ever do, I will think carefully about the very first sentence. I read an article once on memorable first sentences from famous books. A great opening can make all the difference in the world.

Recently I read The Resurrection File by Craig Parshall. "Will Chambers was late again," the author begins.

The book is easily one of my favorite works of fiction to date, though the first sentence is a rather modest opening shot. I like the length and even the boldness of breaking the first rule of powerful writing: use action verbs. It's not the greatest of first sentences but you zip right through it to the second, a payoff of sorts that builds the intrigue.

So I was thinking about these first sentences today and came up with one that I liked. The sentence came first, and then I thought of a couple of plots that could follow. Then I tried to think of some more good opening sentences but ultimately decided I was spent for the day. I now present the first sentence of a story I'll probably never write:

Up until the day he won that fishing boat, Mrs.Vaschon considered her husband a winner.

Some Things Are Simply True

I don't claim to know much about it. Lately I've been looking for stronger batteries for my flashlight and learned a couple new things. I was proud of knowledge and still am in many ways. The long running criticism went that I was blessed with head knowledge but poor of heart. That was true. A question is, is it still?

My knowledge crashed and burned and still has a great many smoldering bits scattered about. I found it to be full of holes and rather hollow. But here's something strange: the little pieces seem to be valuable, more so than they were before. I am still proud of knowledge, yes, I love to know answers. There is plenty of room for pride to inflate far beyond the tiny, damaged little bits that I have, yet there is a new hope.

There is a difference between knowing the truth and loving the truth. That truth alone best characterizes the journey of these past few years.

There is a difference between knowing the truth and loving the truth. I typed this again to make a second point about this pithy, brilliant truth: I can not claim it. I heard this said recently and my own vocabulary of truth is so precious little that I have trouble even characterizing the fragments I know to be true. So much trouble, in fact, that I can no longer credit myself for any knowledge at all. Indeed this simple truth was adopted by me, is understood by me, at last, but I did not invent it. I finally recognized it, but is that even a thing to celebrate? After 37 years? I knew it all this time, though I did not love it.

Two plus two does not equal five. That is a truth I did not create either. Yet the narrow, dim beam of my flashlight has at least found this much and knows it to simply be true. Two plus two does not equal five. It never has and it never will. Some truths are just that concrete. So concrete that you can anchor yourself to them without fear. So concrete that even death itself can not overcome it, and that is indeed a truth to be loved.