Hope, Ice Cream, Bilbo, PotC, and Aslan

Yesterday we took the crew to see The Hobbit, as Bilbo and company have finally arrived at the theater that fits our budget. 

On the way we drove past an ice cream stand. The owner  has signs up letting you know it is getting near for a couple miles ahead in each direction, and also signs afterward, which let you know you have missed your chance for some ice cream. Signs like "You Just Passed Betty Jo's Ice Cream and Frozen Yogurt." I thought about asking to stop for a photo but did not want to miss the beginning of Bilbo's adventure, so I missed my opportunity.  :-P

Which all got me thinking about The Opportune Moment.*

Wouldn't it be nice, if, in real life, there were some sort of Jack-Sparrowlike announcement when you have just missed a golden opportunity that might give you a chance to go back and do it over? I mean, what if it turns out Betty Jo really does have the Best Ice Cream ever? Wouldn't you really rather know it and be able to turn back and get some?

But it doesn't work that way. We miss opportune moments and don't even know they were there. And there is what Aslan told Lucy in Prince Caspian, when she asked, "Am I not to know?" He said, "No. Nobody is ever told that." But he goes on to say, "You must all get up at once and follow me -- what will happen? There is only one way of finding out." 

That trust is a part of the hope we have. 

* For the word nerds reading this, it turns out the greeks have a word that fits in here, kairos - the right or opportune moment. I love that wikipedia says it "signifies a time between, a moment of indeterminate time in which something special happens." I am trusting Christ to help me to recognize kairos when I see it.

bleh and ahhhhhhh. AKA March

mid-March 

sleet icicles on

empty birdfeeder. Dryer

 fluffs warm towels inside.

Missing User's Guide Needed

So. Devastatingly Handsome knows I am saving my pennies for some sort of new electronic toy: maybe an iTouch or a Samsung Galaxy Player or some sort of tablet. 

Somewhere around 3 or 4 AM, he presented me with a red Galaxy, the phone, though, not the player. The first thing I noticed was the extreme thickness of it ~ about 5/8 of an inch. Then I noticed it was a 64 gb. That seemed to account for the thickness. Then I started looking at the features, like a page of text, top to bottom, left to right.

See, I have often thought cell phones are similar to Swiss Army Knives. You carry just one item around and it handles lots of varied functions. Well, this red Galaxy proves me right. The first three features I came to were ~ and understand, these are not apps but true physical features built into the phone ~ a toothpick in a small sleeve, a tiny hummingbird feeder, and a wee bottle of hand sanitizer. 

At this point I realized it was not the same Galaxy I had looked at on Amazon and Best Buy's sites. I asked Devastatingly if he could pass me the user's guide.

"Um...," he said, "they did not actually put anything like that in the box."

I thought that odd and asked to see the packing materials. He took me to the mudroom and showed me a beat up wooden crate, about 2 feet by 2 feet by 7 feet long that had some big chunks of styrofoam in it and also contained a little wooden box the size two pounds of Velveeta comes in, that held polished stone butterflies about the size of eggs, made of agates and jaspers. But no instruction manual, no charging cords or accessories, no information on returns or customer service. The only paperwork was a receipt, for $86.50. 

Thank you, Devastatingly, for the gift. You get extra points for making sure it was red and for the amazing features. Since I can't make it work, though, I sure hope you can get your money back. And I also wish I had seen the rest of the features before I woke up.

Peter Frampton on a Sunday

Yesterday Peter Frampton showed up during the sermon. I have not seen much of him since high school, but there he was. 

The pastor was preaching about how we are already delivered in Christ, already to the point of salvation though it *ahem* sure does not look like it from time to time around here. And next thing I knew, Peter Frampton. 

And of course I started thinking about the three-part chorus - Signed/Sealed/Delivered. Signed ~ that's pretty much the Father's role ~ He chose us and He predestined us. (Ephesians 1:4&5). Sealed ~ certainly that is the work of the Spirit ~ In Him you also, when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and believed in him, were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit. (Ephesians 1:13). Delivered ~  that is Christ ~ Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, who gave Himself for our sins to deliver us from the present evil age.

Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I'm His. Amen and Amen.