Monday, January 24, 2005

We are in the world but not of it. This makes for some confusing observations. Here's some questions I'm asking whilst living in Babylon.
Why is the phrase 'It's none of my business' always followed by 'but...'?
If builders built buildings the way programmers write programs, would the first woodpecker to come along destroy civilisation?
Why don't people on television ever go to the toilet?
Can you sit in the shade of the palm of your hand?
Is experience what you get when you don't get what you want?
When travelling at the speed of sound, can you still hear the radio?
Why do teenagers express their burning desires to be different by dressing exactly the same?
Can you sharpen your shoulder blades?
Should you live every day as if it were your last because, one day you'll be right?
Who does the pollen count, and what job could be worse than counting pollen?
If Spiderman became arachnophobic would he be scared of himself?
If you threw a cat out of a car window, would that be cat litter?

My personal favorite quote this week:
The art of diplomacy the ability to say 'nice doggy' until you find a gun?

Wednesday, January 05, 2005

Consider the scars that life has left on you. John Lennon said that life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans. Every one of us has, like a circus performer, factory worker, or even a government employee, discovered that the wheels of living keep on turning even when you ask for a time out. For some, the brokenness within (and without) is a result of their persistent motion and unflinching force. In the play "The Angel That Troubled The Waters" Thornton Wilder wrote of a doctor who wants to be healed of his 'wounds' and the angel stops him and says no. The following exchange ensues.
"Without your wounds where would your power be? The very angels themselves cannot persuade the wretched and blundering children on earth as can one human being broken in the wheels of living. In Love's service, only the wounded soldiers can serve."
Beautiful and amen. So keep your scars. Not as a sponge for synthetic sympathy to salve your selfish soul, but as a mark of authority to serve as Christ Himself served.