Year: 2013

Random

The Wait Is Over

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In honor of our pastor’s sermon yesterday, I’m posting an old article I did years ago for an Advent booklet at a former church.

The subject is Luke 2:25-35.

The movie The Ten Command­ments has a great scene, which, amazingly, involved Charlton Heston. In it, an Egyptian guard in the mud fields has stabbed an ancient Israelite for insubordination. As the old man dies, he laments about a prayer that has gone unanswered. When asked which prayer, he says, “That before God closed my eyes in death, I might behold the deliverer.” Cecil B. DeMille had the irony running as thick as the mud, because the old man’s dying words are spoken to Moses, the Once and Future Deliverer.

Random

No, He’s Not

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I’m going to stray a bit from the normal discussion areas around here to talk briefly (hah!) about … sports. I heard something again this week that I’ve heard over and over again for the last twenty years and I just couldn’t take it anymore.

It’s December, so it must be time for the Dallas Cowboys to be going in the tank. Since it’s the Cowboys, we hear and read a lot of things about them, but one of the most common (and confounding) things we hear is that Jerry Jones is a great owner. Most recently, it was voiced this week by Darren “Woody” Woodson, former Cowboys superstar safety (the last time we saw either around here) and current ESPN analyst, and replayed incessantly on the various ESPN outlets.

Music

Perfect Pitch

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I had too much time on my hands this weekend, so I started thinking about “perfect” (within three decimal places) songs. You know the ones — five-stars in your iTunes library, ones that you could listen to a dozen times in a row (and have), songs that you’re pretty sure could not be improved in any conceivable way. They’re … perfect.

These are just the ones I chose to get the conversation started. Since they are all “perfect,” they’re listed in alphabetical order.

Angel (Sarah McLachlan) — there are two reasons to watch City of Angels, the spectacular visuals of the angels on the beach at sunrise, and this song.

Books

Trimalchio of West Egg

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I don’t remember exactly when I first read The Great Gatsby, but I do remember that I didn’t think much of it. My memories of it consisted of “over-hyped, not very interesting, short, some girl gets run over.” I couldn’t have told you two things about the titular character, including his first name. I could tell you even less about Fitzgerald’s writing.

How is that possible? I didn’t read Gatsby in high school, when words pass through a brain still mostly mush (because of which I forgive myself for forgetting everything about another Fitzgerald book, Tender is the Night, on which I did my junior theme).

Family

The Few(er), the Proud

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Few children get to celebrate their parents 50th wedding anniversary, because not many parents get to their 50th wedding anniversary. Even fewer children can say that they were present for all 50 years. I am one of the fewer.

Dad married Mother after a whirlwind three month courtship, when I was three-and-three-fourths. (Hey, when you’re three, the three-fourths counts!) It was quite a leap of faith for a 21-year-old to take on, a wife and a (I believe precocious would be the polite word) child, but he thought he was up to the task. He adopted me a few years later (my birth father had flown the coop a few months before Dad met my mom, never to be seen again, within four decimal places of “never”), and as it turns out, he was up to the task.