I like the Bible. I like the whole story. To me the Bible is an extraordinary work of art, masterfully painted with exacting strokes, contrasting colors, and the most amazing Light source we could ever know. There are parts of this painting, certain parts of its composition that I don’t like in and of themselves; there are dark, foreboding shadows that I don’t even understand. However, when I see the finished piece, Genesis to the Revelation, I marvel at the simplicity and complexity.
The first time I carefully studied The Last Supper (da Vinci) it came to life. I had seen a print of this famous work hanging in Grandma Caldwell’s dining room many, many years ago. I never knew why the disciples looked upset, I didn’t know the context. These days I have to be honest and admit that I don’t really like the painting, mainly because I don’t like this part of the Jesus story–I know the darkness that is soon to come. I do like the technical ability of da Vinci and am amazed at the creativity and skill it took to paint this story. Leonardo allows us to see biblical drama; he tells a story with his brush.
I have spent much of my Christian life just learning to see. That’s a request I share with a blind guy whose request of Jesus was simply, “Lord, I want to see.” That’s a pretty good request, to see. The crazy thing about it is, Plato claimed we could only see lines and shapes; he was certain that true form was beyond our paltry five senses. I suppose he was correctly guessing that there must be something more, something eternal. The theme of our humanity is just that, there must be something more. The Scripture explains it this way, “God has placed eternity in our hearts.”
I’ve often thought of my life as a painting. For one thing, that’s the only way I can understand my choices against God’s almighty plan. Continue reading The Truth in Art→
As we get started here again at the beginning of another new year, a lot of folks I know have made New Year’s resolutions. I have a few things on my list of goals for the year, but technically none of them really qualify as resolutions. In order to help me feel better about my general lack of New Year’s resolutions, I offer the following list of Old Man resolutions; things I would like to be, say, or do when I am an old man. For the purposes of this post, I am defining an old man as someone in his mid to late 80’s.
Without any further ado, when I’m an old man:
I will carry candy in my pockets to give to kids at the grocery store and at church. Who knows what society will be like by the time I’m an old man… maybe I’ll need to stick to doing this at church.
I will wear bib overalls with nothing under them a large majority of the time. Obviously when special occasions call for it, such as the ones listed above, I will change my attire. However, I’ve always thought there’d be something really freeing about spending my days wearing a pair of bib overalls with nothing under them. Unfortunately this is a luxury of the old… but I’m willing to wait.
I will be really nice to some people and really mean to others. I will be extremely inconsistent with this one and make a sport out of trying to be obnoxiously rude and overly kind to the same people multiple times each day. I know this will throw people off, but I will get a good kick out of watching how they react. This would never fly today, but when I’m an old man, people will probably just take it and think to themselves, “Bless his heart.” or “He comes from a different time.” This too is a luxury of the old. Continue reading When I Am An Old Man (Repost: Top 25 of Year One)→
Saturday morning Mick and I were up early preparing food for the Bedlam tailgating festivities. We decided a grocery store run was inevitable and made plans to go together, thus dividing and conquering the massive WalMart Super Store. I was finishing up something in the kitchen when Mick walked in and looked at me. He said, “Kelly. Something bad happened. Do want to see this?” He hesitated. “I’m not sure you want to see this.”
His face conveyed the kind of message sent when a pet dies, or one of our children has broken a bone. So then I hesitated. “What happened?” I asked.
“A litle bird somehow flew into our garage and got stuck in one of the glue traps. It’s really, really stuck,” he responded.
“Well, let’s see if we can somehow free it before we think about other options.” I was thinking out loud. I knew it would be frightened, so I grabbed a tea towel, a pair of kitchen shears and headed to the garage. I was just thinking that when you want to lead a horse somewhere, sometimes you cover it’s eyes. Maybe cutting out any outside distractions would help it stay more calm. I wasn’t thinking that the tea towel would ALSO get stuck in the trap.
I’ve been reading a lot of books and blogs lately on fatherhood and raising girls. From what I’ve read, there seems to be at least five common threads (probably more) running through most of the stuff that really speaks to me. Maybe they’re not really rules. Maybe they’re more like tips… tips, hints, suggestions, guidelines, or something like that. Whatever you call them, in no particular order, here are five:
1. Love her mom. Treat her mother with respect, honor, and a big heaping spoonful of public displays of affection. When she grows up, the odds are good she’ll fall in love with someone who treats her much like you treated her mother. Good or bad, that’s just the way it is. I’d prefer good. Continue reading Five Rules for Dads Raising Daughters→
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