Greenpastures313’s Weblog

The English of the King James Version of the Bible is the English of Shakespeare. “Thee” and “Thou” and “Thine” and the -eth which ends most verbs (sleepeth, looketh, and taketh) is still popular today, over four hundred years later.. It is, for us, a lofty language. When spoken with eloquence, the words tumble gracefully off the tongue like so many lilting, sing-song characters in a choreographed routine, bounding across a stage in rhythm. Shakespeare did not invent this style of English, neither did King James. They both spoke in the language that was common for their day. But it does have a quality about it, doesn’t it? No doubt William gathered some inspiration from the words of Scripture, even the very words of Christ. Jesus said, “Why make ye this ado, and weep?” (Mark 5.39). Shakespeare wrote, “Much Ado About Nothing.” See the resemblance? No? Let me help. Most of the stuff we humans fight over, get angry about, worry and fret on and consume great amounts of negative energy battling against amounts to a big goose egg, nothing.

Jesus said, in essence, you’re making much ado about nothing. On the surface it didn’t seem like nothing. To the family, to the friends, the other onlookers, it appeared that a little girl had died. That’s hardly nothing. Or is it? Jesus told the crowd, “why make ye this ado and weep? The damsel is not dead, but sleepeth.” They scorned him for that.

Yet even death, that powerful, frightening, overbearing end to all of us, is, in the end, turned into nothing by Christ. The grave has no power over him and therefore it has no power over you, if you belong to him, that is. If you are his faithful one. If not, then make ado, make much ado, because death makes much ado of you.

I invested in a hair cut last weekend. It had been almost a year since my last visit to the barber, and over three years since I’ve worn my hair as short as it is now. Sometimes I wore a pony tail, most times I didn’t. It was no statement, nothing so contrived as a declaration of anything about anything. It was just what it was, like so many things throughout my life, simply what I wanted to do at the time.

Vickey and I spent saturday afternoon and evening in Warner Robins. We shopped at Books A Million. I had a $40.00 gift card from christmas that I was anxious to use. I went for the buy two, get one free table and picked up Amy Tan’s Joy Luck Club (don’t know if this is strictly a chick book or not, but have heard a lot of excerpts on XM book radio), Labyrinth by Kate Moss, and The poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingslover. Also hit the clearance table where I found Jonathan Strange for $5. From there we went to the Galaria Mall where I purchased a new three piece pin stripe suit from Penny’s, and also where I happened upon the barber shop and decided on the spur of the moment that I wanted a hair cut. Zoe’, our two year old, said “Daddy brush his hair?”  “Yes, sweetie, daddy brushed his hair.”

We left the mall and went to eat at Olive Gardens. Vickey had the Tour of Italy. I don’t remember the name of my entree, but it was ravioli stuffed with cheeses in a sauce with shrimp. Very good!

Our youth group at church and youth leaders are getting ready for Winterfest 2009. One fund raiser remains, the Boston Butt cooking on Feb 7. We anticipate selling 150 butts which means we should clear about  $1500. I’ve really got to psyche myself up for this. It’s always a fun day, but a little stressful cooking that many butts in just a few hours and having them all ready when people start showing up to  collect them.  This final effort will put us well over what we need to pay for the trip and also fund youth activities throughout the year. Our youth are also generous with their funds as they contribute to Raintree Village Children’s Home, to mission efforts, as well as give to local needy families and charities.

For all the rehearsal, the planning, the preparation, and coordinating of the presidential inaugural, it’s ironic, and a little symbolic, that the most significant part would be so jostled and, frankly put, so royally flubbed. Obama was too eager to say his lines, and the justice was just as eager to say his that they both came off looking very human, very much the men that they are. Perhaps something is trying to tell us something. This is not a god. This is not perfection.  The reverend Lowry’s benediction started well and ended poorly.  It’s sad that on such a day, on such an occasion, he felt it necessary to drive the wedge a little deeper. “that brown can stick around, that the red man can get ahead man, yellow can be mellow.”  Give me a break. America just inaugurated a black man, by a definite majority, and yet the white man still has his boot on the throat of minorities. He stopped praying when everyone started chuckling.

So there you have it for now. Do with it what you will, I only write this stuff. But thanks for reading anyway.

January is the monday of the year. The holidays are the weekend. You had loads of fun, slept very little, ate too much, just tried to cram it all in, then “monday, monday, da da dadadadada . . .” January finds you frazzeled and looking for a compass, a little routine to ground you again, and bring some regularity to your life. Just make it through the month, then you can begin to look forward to other “days” coming.  Tuesday is easter and spring time, and planting time and the beginning of grass cutting time and it’s a good day because you made it through monday and you feel better, rested, eager for outdoor achievement. July fourth (wednesday, hump day) is that middle of the year holiday that reminds you that the “week” is half done and maybe, just maybe you start christmas shopping (if you’re married to me that is)buying that little summer outfit on clearance because it would be perfect for the little neice or nephew by next spring and summer. Thursday (Cheers night, Friends night, Hill Street Blues night, LA Law night) is Halloween which means the holidays are rapidly approaching and you can’t wait until they get here and all that fun starts, parties and eating and parties and taking off work early and gifts and parties and christmas cheer and visiting the inlaws and Santa and before you know it it’s New Years Eve and New Years Day (Sunday night) and you know you got to get up and go to work Monday but you just got to squeeze in one more day of holiday fun. But Monday’s coming, Monday’s coming. Just make it through Monday and the rest of the year’s a piece of cake.

The cover says “this book has the potential to do for our generation what John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress did for his.” I speak of The Shack by William P. Young. I’ve read Pilgrim’s Progress too but that was long ago and I have little memory of it. However, The Shack turns our anthropomorphic perceptions of God on the proverbial ear. The way it depicts God, our Creator, our Christ, if not revolutionary is certainly fresh.

The most poignant theme of the story, as I see it, is the redemptive risks which God takes for us every day. God is not the author of evil, nor can it be said that he allows it. To allow something implies power to demolish it which power God chooses to lack. God has chosen to limit himself (he “made himself nothing . . . being made in human likeness” Phil.2.7) and to allow his creation the freedom to turn to him or turn away from him. The consequence of the latter is what Paul wrote of in Romans 5.12: “Therefore, just as sin entered the world through one man, and death through sin, and in this way death came to all men . . .” God wants to redeem fallen man. He does this through the work of Christ, the death of his Son on the cross.

All evils in the world ultimately can be laid at the feet of man, namely one man through whom sin entered the world. God did not choose this but he did choose to live in this world gone awry, to experience first hand the evils in it, to die in it, to overcome it, in order to redeem it. He works around it (evil), over it, in spite of it, and through it to bring his creation back to him. He wants to redeem the perpetrator as well as the victim. At different times we are both.

The GPS told me (literally told me, in a sultry, sophisticated, voluptuous female voice) to “make a U turn in 400 feet.” I ignored her and maintained my course. Again, “make a U turn in zero point three miles.” No way, baby, I got the wheel, and the pedal’s to the metal.  After two or three more admonitions, seeing that I was determined to hold my present heading, she gave up and recalculated the route. I knew she would come around to my way eventually. What I like about her is that when I know the way I want to go, she affirms me. What I also like is when I’m completely clueless about where I am relating to where I want to be, she gets me there, turn by turn. Gives me street names and if she doesn’t know the name of the road she says “in one half mile  turn on to Unnamed.”  I can tell she’s not from these parts, though, like when she says “turn right on Houston road” and pronounces it like the city in Texas instead of “house-ton” like it’s supposed to be down here, or “Not-ting-ham Way instead of Nottingham. I laughed out loud the first time I heard that, and said, out loud mind you, “you idiot, it’s Nottingham Way.” She didn’t mind. She didn’t sull up and stare fixedly out the window, seething at my insensitive remark. Just told me my next turn like it was nothing.

I think she needs a name.  Would that be too weird? Maybe Alice or Esmerelda, or Sophia. She is rather knowledgeable after all, when it comes to finding her way. Don’t tell anyone. Don’t want to ruin my reputation for not asking directions.

After more than two weeks hiatus in blog posting, I’m at it again. So much to cover – Christmas was a whirlwind around here. Our first in the new house. Hard to believe that in less than two months we will have lived here one year. We decorated the house inside and out. (the tree is still up, but we’re working on it). Vickey got all the decorations piled in the upstairs office to be boxed up and carried into the attic. It’s quite an impressive pile of snowmen, santas, more snowmen, dishes, globes, garland, bows, bric-a-brac,nick nack, paddie wack give a dog a bone.

Vickey’s candy business soared this year, with Salt Lick Sausage store and her regular annual individual customers, she was making candy on Christmas day, which is a first. The evening of the 25th we left home bound for Mississippi to spend a few days with Vickey’s sister and niece and their families. We returned home on tuesday the 30th, I worked wednesday, and took off again New Years Day.  Mother and sister Barbara and brotherinlaw Mike spent that day with us and ate luch, grilled sausage, cabbage, and greens.

Now that the holidays are behind us, I reflect on one thing: I miss Christmas with my Dad (spent a few minutes with him at the cemetery and in my dreams) but am very grateful for the time  spent with Vickey and our children, Mother, and siblings, cousins, and nephews and nieces. I am full and have need of nothing except the daily manifestations of grace which Christ exhibits to all who believe on him.

Thanks for reading. Happy New Year. Love you, bless you, bye.