Jairus' Daughter

Desert Baptism

Even as they fight this war for freedom, the war over their souls is being won.

Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. - II Corinthians 3:17

Pfc. David Kurns is baptized by Task Force Chaplain Capt. Ron Cooper, left, and 1st Lt. Brian Case, right, in the desert north of Kuwait City, Wednesday, March 12.  Eight members of the 3rd Infantry Division were baptized in the desert on Wednesday.

Creepy FedEx Guy

Yeah, he just keeps getting more and more freaky.  He's been delivering FedExes here for a long time, so I'm pretty sure he's legit and not some psycho who killed a FedEx guy and stole his uniform.  It all started a couple weeks ago...  I had the office door locked because I was there alone (bosses' orders), but since I knew he was the FedEx guy and was bearing packages, I let him in.  "Lockin' me out, huh?" he said.  And of course, being the nice, kind, not-wanting-to-hurt-anybody's-feelings office manager than I am, I explained to him that it wasn't personal, just following orders.  And he proceeded to agree with the wisdom of such a practice, but the look he gave me changed ever so slightly.  And it weirded me out.  Ever since then, whenever I unlock the door to let him in, he lauds my safety-conscious bosses--a little too much.  Then last time, he took the weirdness to a new level.  My boss was even in the office at this point.  I signed his clipboard and he said, "No, you have to sign your real name."  Not catching on, I protested that it was my real name.  And he goes, "Miss America."  I was so creeped out, I almost couldn't move.  Since then I have run over multiple scenarios in my head, mentally testing out the tactical advantage of a Bic pen.  I HAVE A BALLPOINT AND I'M NOT AFRAID TO USE IT!!!

Are You Human or Not?

How?  How how how?  How can people--actual people--carry out this kind of torture on other people?  (If you can handle graphic depictions, read about atrocities here, here, and here.)  Unlike those forced to watch loved ones being tortured, all I have to see are words on a page, and it still makes me want to cry and/or throw up.

I suppose I can rationalize why the torturers do it:  if they don't, they themselves will be killed.  And I can articulate why leaders order it done:  they are sick, evil, and power-hungry, seeking to secure their status by the use of fear.  But I can not hope to grasp why other world leaders, when made of aware of such practices, would not campaign to put an end to it immediately.  To me, it makes them just like the torture-masters:  able to look on and feel no visceral reaction.  France, China, and Russia, what is your deal?

In the Words of Our President

Last night I caught a clip of President Bush's remarks at the Pentagon:  "We cannot know the duration of this war.  Yet we know its outcome; we will prevail."  For a second, I felt like I had crossed the boundary between the physical world and that which is unseen.  His words have weight beyond their surface meaning.  They speak to the very state of our cosmos.

"We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time." (Romans 8:22)  There is a war raging.  And it is being fought on the battlefield of human souls.  The forces of darkness, led by the father of lies, are engaged in an ongoing offensive.  Their objective:  to negate life.  But we have a secret weapon, and it has already been detonated.  Jesus Christ defeated death permanently when He rose to life after being crucified.  That single victory set off a chain reaction which will culminate in the permanent extermination of evil, and the institution of a glorious kingdom of peace, honor, and illumination.  God will prevail.  And since all time is within God's purview, He already has.

Where, O death, is your victory?  Where, O death, is your sting?  But thanks be to God!  He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.  - I Corinthians 15:55, 57

Make a bomb of love and blow it up  - Dave Matthews Band

Not Just a Buzzword

It's really war.  And it's really in my lifetime.  I guess I had this view of war as something that had been eradicated before I was born.  Sure, there was the Gulf War, but that didn't seem real.  Just missiles firing on other missiles.  Then again, my little 11-year-old mind was probably pretty sheltered at that point.  I thought that war was something my world had outgrown, like colic or acne.

But here we are again, once more into the fray.  Our advocacy of freedom is put to the highest test.  Is it worth dying for?  For someone else?  I suppose there lies the chasm between honor and cowardice.  Do soldiers in battle even have time to contemplate the ethereal philosophy of what they defend?  Or is it the one thing that is foremost on their minds--their driving force?

If we have learned anything by the history of our country, our struggles and triumphs, it is that freedom comes at a price.  And that it's worth it.

Checking in...

Sorry my posts have been so infrequent lately.  My internet connection at home has been inexplicably kaputt.  This means I have to update the site at work in between the long periods of mindless tedium that hold the 8 good hours of my day hostage.  Hopefully my connection will get fixed soon.

I sort of dropped off the radar screen this weekend.  It's kinda fun to do that every now and then.  To be incommunicato.  I took refuge in my parents' new apartment, indulging in the digital cable and leather recliners.  Good Will Hunting was on.  And the war.  That was about it.

Now I am back at work.  Blah.  Back where people can find me.  And dump stuff on me to do.  Ah, the life of a working-world peon.

God Bless W&M

So I talked to the head of the Speech-Language Pathology department at ODU, and all I had to do was mention William and Mary (and my GPA), and he wanted to hold a spot for me!!!  Woo hoo!  I felt so important.  ;)  So guess what I'll be doing tonight--yep, number 9 on my list.

2 DC 2 C MJ

A fan holds up a sign as
Jordan warms up on Jan. 24.

But it's kinda weird coming in on the end of his career.  I wish I had been a fan (i.e. aware of basketball) when he was in his prime.  Even though he played the whole game last night, he didn't really do anything that impressive that set him apart from the other players.  All of his mystique lies in what people remember about him, it seems.  That being said, the atmosphere of the arena did give the feeling that you were in the presence of greatness.

I liked it.  I think I'll go again.  :)

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

In honor of this great holiday when we celebrate our (drunken, brawling) Irish heritage, I would like to showcase one of the more famous of my stock:

my great-great-uncle

"Gentleman" Jim Corbett
(James John Corbett)

Corbett was one of the greatest heavyweights of all-time.  He has been called the "Father of Modern Boxing" because of his innovations in fighting style.  He was clever, agile, and "jack-rabbit" quick.  He utilized fast jabs and hooks, and possessed excellent footwork along with slippery head and body movement.

Nat Fleischer ranked Corbett as the #5 All-Time Heavyweight and Charley Rose ranked him as the #9 All-Time Heavyweight.  He was elected to the International Boxing Hall of Fame in 1990.

BORN:  September 1, 1866; San Francisco, California
DIED:  February 18, 1933; Bayside, Queens, New York
HEIGHT:  6'1 1/2"  WEIGHT:  173-190 lbs.
RACE:  White; Irish-American  MANAGER:  William A. Brady  (source)

Why Do Today What You Can Put Off Till Tomorrow?

There doesn't seem to be much going on today that is blogworthy, except perhaps my extreme laziness.  I am a master procrastinator.  I can do nothing like it's my job.  Oh, wait...  Anyway, here is a list of things I should be doing, in no particular order:

- Call up the VW place and make an appt. to take my car in
- Get my hair cut
- Call up the harp place and make an appt. to take my harp in
- Buy plane tickets for my friends' wedding in June
- Start practicing (harp) for my other friend's wedding in June
- Keep practicing for my friend's wedding in June
- Find out when that wedding is, so that I don't buy plane tickets if it's the same weekend
- Talk to the head of the speech path dept where I want to go to grad school
- Apply to grad school
- Get my transcripts and GRE scores forwarded to grad school
- Get recommendations for grad school
- Get my financial aid forms in for grad school
- Go to the grocery store
- Do laundry
- Restring my other guitar
- Do my taxes
- And last but not least...  the myriad office manager-type stuff that I get paid to do, but has no real impact one way or another

I'll cross each one off as it gets done.  (And replace it with whatever I'm putting off that day.)

The Passion

Mel Gibson is working on a new film that captures the last 12 hours of Jesus' natural life.  It is intended to be a graphic portrayal, with dialogue spoken in Latin and Aramaic, the languages of the time (no subtitles).  Mel Gibson, who is a devout Catholic, is financing the film himself, but not starring in it; Jim Caviezel is playing the role of Jesus.

In this article, a respected rabbi expresses his concern that the film may place blame on Jews collectively for the crucifixion of Jesus, thereby (you can infer) creating a wave of anti-Semitic sentiment.  In the mid-sixties, the Second Vatican Council resolved no longer to hold the Jewish nation as a whole responsible for Jesus' death.  This rabbi worries that Mel Gibson will not adhere to the reformations of Vatican II.  A friend of the Gibson family is reported to have said "... that the film will lay the blame for the death of Christ where it belongs," a reference that some take to mean the Jewish authorities at that time. 

The point of view not represented in the article is that the blame for Jesus' crucifixion rests on everyone.  On the whole of humanity.  Whether Jew or Gentile, alive at the time or not, we all contributed to His death by our choosing to sin, to follow our own selfish agendas rather than God's.  Because every person who ever lived or ever will live had a part in putting Jesus to death, His sacrifice can be applied universally.  He died to bring all of creation into a right relationship with God, no longer separated by sin--the sin that was directly responsible for His crucifixion.  In the marvellous paradox that is our Christian history, Jesus conquered sin by letting it take His life.

It seems a shame to end the story there.  I hope Mr. Gibson will do a sequel, one that portrays Jesus risen to supernatural life.  That is the happy ending:  because Death could not hold Him, neither does it hold sway over those who believe.

The Gang

These are my lubbly-jubbly friends:  Chad, Heidi, Alex, Becky, Carissa, Kelli, Corey, Joanna, Corby, and Meredith (not me).

picture courtesy of Corby

I love these guys.

Rock the Vote

My online poll:

Should Meredith...

a) move to Norfolk to pursue her master's in speech-language pathology.

b) stay in DC and dedicate herself to serving in her church and deepening friendships with people here.

c) none of the above.  (Please provide alternative option on your write-in ballot.)

Click here to cast your vote.

The Offering Song

I sang a song in church today.  People are always so nice when you do stuff like that.  Perfect strangers will come up to you and express their appreciation.  I guess when you put yourself out there, at that moment, you belong to everybody. 

It was cool, too, because I really felt like God wanted this song to be heard.  When I wrote it, I had no ambition to sing it for the whole church.  And yet, circumstances just worked out that way.  I was supposed to do a harp solo, but one of the mechanisms on my harp broke the week before.  I offered to sing instead so that they wouldn't have to find someone else short notice.

It's not as if I can take credit for the song itself, either.  I had asked God for a song--something that I could offer up to Him when I wanted to worship Him in my own words.  For a long time, nothing came.  I would sit down, welled up with emotion and wanting to pour my heart into a new song for my Savior, but I was blank.  Then, finally, He gave me this song.  People asked how long it took me to write it.  Not long at all; it came all at once.

Here are the lyrics, if you are interested:

What will my offering be
What will my offering be
Frankincense, myrrh and gold
For the Babe Whose birth was foretold

What will my offering be
What will my offering be
Two small fish, some loaves of bread
That by Your hand the multitude is fed

What will my offering be
What will my offering be
With pure nard to anoint Your head
As the King Who rose from the dead

What will my offering be
What will my offering be
Take my life, and all I am
I sacrifice it to the Lamb

Wipe Your Feet

My new roommate is a cleaning MACHINE!!  Even now, I write this to the whirrrr of the vacuum cleaner above my head.  She got up at 9:00*am* on a *Saturday* and proceeded to turn on the dishwasher (which I had refrained from starting since she was still asleep when I got up--but why I got up at 7:00am is another story), mop the hardwood floor, and clean the panes on the back door... from the OUTSIDE!  It's actually my week to clean the bathroom, but I have a feeling if I sit here long enough, she's going to beat me to it.  She's the best roommate ever!  :)  She doesn't say much, but MAN can she clean!

(Oh, and she makes her bed everyday, too.  I definitely can't keep up.)

Chariots of Fire

My friend Julie is running a marathon.  I'm so proud of her!  Check her out.

They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  Does that mean something is beautiful only when someone else deems it so?  That it has no intrinsic beauty of its own?  I suppose it's the old tree-falling-in-the-forest question.  Still, it's so easy to feel unloved.  And searching other people's corneas for beauty only makes it more elusive.

Happy birthday, Michelangelo.

...

Yeah, ok, so I'm still plugging away.  It would be a lot easier if I actually knew how to write code.  In the meantime (for those few of you who deign to visit my site), tell me what you would like to see, and I will try to incorporate that, too.  I aim to please!  Just don't ask for anything really difficult.