Farewell little friend!

Today, I sold the CB250.  I posted it on Craigslist about 12 days ago. A couple of nibbles. A young couple, believers came by tonight to take a look and bought it.  She's learning to ride, he's experienced and has owned several bikes in the past.  He is going to get his dream bike, an MV Agusta Brutale.  That is serious nakedness. Wow.  They let me pray for them and I watched the little CB250 pull out of our driveway one last time.

I'm happy for the sale. I'm thankful for the ease and straighforward-ness of the interaction. I am glad to have the opportunity to move on to another bike.

But I'm a little sad.  The little Nighthawk, Putnam, we called 'im, was a faithful little steed.  It started each time (classic Honda reliability) it was asked, and seemed to enjoy being ridden.  No attitude, no pretense, just a little motorbike--no frills.  I had my first real riding experiences on this bike and it was always very accommodating and faithful.  My confidence on the road grew.  I had the bike for just over 3 years and 3,000 miles.  It had about 36,6k when it left my service.

My sincere hope and prayer is that this new little family will have many safe miles of reliable Honda fun and that 'ol Putnam serves them well.

Farewell, my little friend! :)

I am so sad- I just wrote a long post with thoughts and memories of the wedding. I selected publish, and it went to 'no man's land'.  I can't locate it.  I don't have the heart, or time, right now to do it again.

Betrayed by the convenience of technology once again....

The Beautiful Machine

I don't know when I started diggin' motorcycles.  I have memories of a detailed, small scale toy as a child, with rubber tyres (as per the Triumph brochures) and springy suspension (that was also on a black and gold John Player Special F1 replica car model, but that's another memory).  In Switzerland, as a small bueb, my father took me to a motocross race.  I recall standing at the bottom of the hill as muddy bikes flew (literally) by, catching air before landing at the bottom and screaming out of sight, returning some minutes later, again and again.

As a youth in rural Virginia, i coveted my neighbor's Honda Trail 70 that she got for Christmas one year.  Now as an adult, and an insurance professional, I can understand her father's hesitation to open up access to the bike to the neighborhood kids.  But at that time, I eagerly accepted any occasional offer to ride that machine through the fields and woods.

I think I gave these machines not much thought after that (other than occasional pause when I saw one parked) until years later at work, a buddy who rode small enduro hondas for years around Texas brought up the topic.  Unfortunately, the internet was available, and I was hooked for hours on sites by Harley, Yamaha, Honda, Suzuki, Kawasaki, Triumph...Reviews, Craigslist, Cycle Trader.  Man, I was dreamin'!

Sometime around '00, '01, I finally enrolled in the Motorcycle Safety Course at a local community college.  Spent the entire weekend on a Honda 250 Nighthawk, in the rain (except when in the classroom).  I passed the test at DMV a couple of weeks later and had my license!

My pal Ken took the course around the same time (we tried to find a weekend we could take it together, but because we were so busy and important and had many duties, it didn't happen) and he was lucky enough to score a Honda Magna 750 (in line 4 cylinder cruiser) from his brother-in-law.  Maybe it was a 500.He had many great weekends cruising around Pungo. Maybe I needed a better duty...I got to ride one weekend around the parking lot near his house.

Alright, so the reality of screaming around the roads on a motorcycle lost its appeal a bit. The gravity of what one takes on when mounting a bike was not lost on me in my career as an insurance adjuster.  I stopped thinking about bikes as much...

But they were SO COOL!  Invariably, I'd pause by a Cycle World mag at Farm Fresh (only decent grocery stores carry Cycle World. If they don't have a copy, then they are sub par. Whole Foods and Fresh Market and Trader Joe's make up for this deficiency in other ways (see past or probably future post on "Beer Selection"). So that ember did not die.

Finally took the plunge in November 2012.  It was a busy year--personal best 1/2 Marathon in Chesapeake, last true camping trip (rained out in Crabtree Falls), mom died rather unexpectedly, eldest child graduated high school...what else?  As a dreamer and options guy, I generally won't close the deal, but I did.  And nothing from the list, go figure...it's a 1997 Honda CB 250 Nighthawk. It started and ran. 'Nuff said!  My son and I actually picked it up and put it in the back of our Town & Country.  Some cheap Bilt gear from Cycle Gear and I was ridin'....Oh yes, this saga continues....


MONTES Classic Series, Cabernet Sauvignon 2011, Chile

"Ay Ay Ay It's Christmas..."

1st Day of Christmas

What a happy day.  I grew up blessed with lots of wonderful traditions that helped with the anticipation of Christmasness.  Time off before, running around last minute shopping, Johnny Mathis and Frank Sinatra, Christmas Eve service, the feast (pork, sauerkraut, yummy cookies and cakes), and finally, busting into the loot.

Well, one thing that has been a tension for me, that a focus on the REAL gift of Christmas has overcome, is the idea of "loot."  Yes, I am a materialistic pig.  There is always something on "the list" and some secret expectation of "the thing" that I wanted.  I don't even know what that is anymore!  And I'm glad.  As a child I was secretly envious of friends who got "the thing" they wanted.  I dared not hope, and yet, I did. And was frequently, secretly disappointed because of not getting "the thing".

Well, that is life, and I am glad I did not get "the thing" because "the thing" is not what it is about. "The thing" fades and dies...it passes into Goodwill donation piles.  God save me from "the thing!"  And He has!  There is great joy in anticipating and meditating on the coming and present Gift. He does keep giving and giving, and makes me increasingly grateful for his grace.  So who needs the Mattel Battlestar Galactica hand held game?  Really, I didn't and I don't.  Thank you, mom and dad for being sensible, while still preserving an awesome sense of mystery, expectation and wonder.

Merry Christmas!

Something's Amiss

A consistent theme, existentially, for me is this:  I cannot get my brain and heart around the immensity of God's love and mercy for us, through Jesus Christ.

Something is rotten in Denmark, and in me.  If the Gospel is true (and it is) and as big a deal as it seems (and it is) then why the gloom? Why the foreboding?  Little trials like work difficulties, illness, loss, death, hunger, poverty, shame, failure are nothing compared to the vastness of Christ's imputed righteousness and grace.  We no longer must strive for acceptance!  We are no longer required to provide proof of our capabilities and worth (like at work). Glory, Hallelujah!  Amazing Grace! We are right with God through Jesus!

And yet....

Do I dare allow myself to fall into the reality of God's extravagant love for us, His people?  Do I dare, as 'Mater would say, "to not to?"

Oh, to be free of the flesh that wars against the ability to know, the world that propagates false solutions to real emptiness and longing, and the devil that lies.

  

Thankful Heart

Yes, and every night will end
And every day will start
With a grateful prayer
And a thankful heart

Scrooge was saved! In the George C. Scott version, I believe, the Ghost of Christmas Past came for his "reclamation." Oh for the increasing fulfillment of the evidence of my own reclamation. I want to be able to sing with the angels and muppets and former scrooges that every night will end and every day will start with a grateful prayer and a thankful heart! As I write this my youngest asks to be taken to the pool (!) now, to practice some strokes. What? Now? Before dinner? No way! And leave me alone while I write my blog!!! Sheesh!

Anyway...where was I?

Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer

(Editor's Note: The original draft of this blog was lost, due to some inane loop when "insert image" was fat-fingered on the iPhone instead of spell check. This necessitated a lot of fussing, getting out of bed, signing in to the right account (additional editor's note-see 12/27 post by "Laurie"--which it really wasn't--it was by me, but I was signed in as Laurie, who apparently has posting privileges on my blog--which is fine, but I'm just trying to clarify) and then trying to recapture an inspired moment that happened in the warmth of my bed. Now I am freezing out of bed, writing this. Anyway, the original post mused on Rudolph's red nose, old time depictions of drunks in the comics, a stomach bug that caught some of our family a few days before Christmas, and the idea of red bums as a result of said bug. The line of thinking was going to rapidly degenerate from there, so I ended it tactfully, but alas...)

I wonder why Rudolph's nose was red?

(Editor's note: I just can't do it...)

The Christmas Song

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire...

There are many incredible scriptural songs celebrating the birth of Christ. Mel Torme's tune is not one of them. It is, however, perhaps my favorite Christmas-y song which I'll never sing at a Christmas Eve service.

I grew up with Johnny Mathis's and Frank Sinatra's old school versions. I also appreciate Nat King Cole's, Anything since then is pretty disappointing (all due respects to Amy Grant). There's just something 50's/60's, New York City Christmas about the song. All quiet, hopeful, peaceful...the expectation of Santa (yet so much more). It's appropriate for kids from one to 92...And when I hear that song, those versions, I can catch a wisp of dreamy, child-like Christmases of long ago.

Jingle Bells

Dashing through the snow
In a one-horse, open sleigh...

One year ago we could have been, had we sleighs and horses.  I like snow, but I'm glad we don't have it now, like that.

Deck The Halls

So, because of the Bumpass Hounds, there was Oriental Duck, or Chinese Turkey, for Christmas Dinner. Ralphie got his Red Ryder BB Gun. And all was well.

There was so much food this year. It began with Turkey at Thanksgiving. We had pork roast, Estonian "holiday" sausages, stew cooked all day over an open fire in an iron cauldron, ham, pie, rock cakes...It's not even New Year's and I'm making resolutions that last 'til the next meal time. I am truly thankful for the delicious feasting of which we partook. At some point, gathering around a meal with friends and family became more dear than ripping into gifts.

Tomorrow, life returns to some normalcy, for me at least, and a wonderful break will be over. I'll battle wistfulness, some nostalgia, memories like "the last time I was doing this, I was looking forward to..."

Right now, I'm looking forward to lying down and drifting off to sleep at the end of another wonderful, blessed day.

O Tannenbaum

This year, we got our tree earlier than ever--the weekend after Thanksgiving. Our tradition is to pick out a tree from Taylor's Do-It Center ($9.99 and up in years past). We eschew the fancier, glitchier places that spring up near churches (Holy Family or Wave) and use the significant savings to treat ourselves to lunch at Tijuana Flats (home of "Smack My Ass and Call Me Sally" hot sauce). This year was perfect--a beautiful tree, some new lights, delicious chimichangas and ghost pepper hot sauce. We cut the base off the trunk bottom, mixed a solution designed to preserve the tree's vibrancy and set it up. This year, the tree absorbed the water, so we diligently monitored the water level. All to no avail. Within two weeks, the tree browned. I went ahead and strung some lovely lights. Every contact, brush against the limbs and branches yielded a shower of needles, a sound like hail.

So this year we didn't get to the part where ornaments went on the tree.  Die Bletter weren't too grün. But that's ok.

I saw a devotional that reminds that the One whose birth we celebrate with a tree now, set his face like a flint toward Jerusalem and another tree. Thank you, Jesus!

Has it been so long.....?

So, spiritual mentors such as Dallas Willard, Brennan Manning and Richard Foster remind us of the importance of time alone with God. Not just "quiet time", but quiet time.

I'm here to confess, I can't get there. I note the date of my last post...almost a year and a half ago. Blog posts don't equate to time with God by any stretch, but for me, a post might come when I think I might have something to say, even to myself.

I also confess a certain level of panic when I feel/think I have nothing to say. It's not true, of course, but I'll admit, I am steeped in existentialism and it is a darn hard road to hoe outta there. So, I am trusting, trying to trust that "we also glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope. Now hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out in our hearts by the Holy Spirit who was given to us." (Romans 5:3-5 NKJV).

I always picture tribulations as coming from active persecution; the kind that results in imprisonment, confiscation of property, torture and martyrdom. I don't enjoy the prospect of any of those things. I realize that traffic, the complaints of folks at work, the demands of customers and superiors are enough to severely test my peace and faith. I could only imagine if, along with those everyday challenges, I had to deal with active persecution. As I test myself on this, I don't come out so well.

Jesus, please bless and strengthen those brothers and sisters who are enduring overt persecution and hostility. Give them knowledge of your presence and your plan. And for those brothers and sisters who are struggling to persevere in faithfulness as they muck about in the slough of despond or get waylaid by the sights and sounds of Vanity Fair...Lord give us vision and direction. Let our eyes not grow dull, our hearts weary.

Prone to wander...Lord, I feel it....so I pray along with the hymn writer..."Lord let me never, never outlive my love for thee...!"

...on the notion that we might face suffering...

....and I didn’t get very far into the sermon either….

The premise is that a large part of sharing in suffering includes being there, not saying much. But there also has to be a strong foundation to stand on, for if it crumbles, hugs become vapid, anemic, cliché….

I am thinking about suffering today and the “not-rightness” of it.

As I think of praying, I think, of course, of healing, of deliverance, of protection, of removal of the affliction…. but also - to endure it well, to see Jesus as the ever-increasing treasure, for strengthened faith and ingrafting in Jesus, for faith not to fail, for all the fruits that the suffering of the redeemed should bear…..

I keep coming to this conclusion that is mixed - very bitter, very sweet… that things don’t necessarily get better here, though we want them to. That there really is a consummation of all our godly hopes, dreams, desires - a rightness - not of what we think we want, but what we were truly made to want… for what we were truly made to be.

This seems so cliché and yet…

Come, Lord Jesus, Come!

Movement

Another example of how music and video can be compelling...

Stress-Reduced Home

A great article and stuff to keep in mind at home:

http://articles.mercola.com/sites/articles/archive/2009/08/29/Tips-for-Being-a-More-LightHearted-Parent.aspx

Gotta quit naggin', directing via the NEGATIVE!

Lord, Hep me!!

Why I love grace...

1) I can't always get excited about the things Jesus is excited about.
2) I am not always in touch with joy.
3) I find myself thinking and acting like an enemy of Jesus-pretending to be his friend, yet very ready to deny, run, curse, accuse...
4) The truth of the Gospel should elicit a response that I am frequently incapable of providing.
5) It is perhaps the only thing I have in common with some amazing people who follow Jesus.

Beach

Happy Birthday to my little sister, who turns 40 today! Amazing.

Well, it's been about a year. Last time I was bloggin' more regularly was this time last year, in Corolla. It's the family beach trip-L's parents have the extended family down for a week. This year we are missing L's sister, brother-in-law, 2 nieces and a nephew, and L's grandmother who is recovering from some physical stuff. We do have L's uncle, wife and new baby.

The kids are older, more independent, and able to be trusted (somewhat) in the pool, hot tub, and down at the beach. My help is still requested for hole-digging.

I always hope that these trips are going to yield some "life changes"--that the desired retreat and need for stillness will facilitate some sort of 'breakthrough'; spiritually, vocationally, etc. It's Tuesday and I've decided to take the pressure off myself. I got about a 40 minute (interrupted) nap.

We had a long talk with E about the "Twilight" series. I got to the point in my research that I really didn't even want to read it. Popular works of fiction will come and go, as will controversy. There are things we'd watch or read together that some folks would choose not to with their kids. I'm troubled, however, that this series is so popular with kids AND young leaders in our church and youth group. And basically the pro's are: They don't have sex prior to marriage.

Ooooh. That's laudable.

The issues of secrecy, obsessive behavior and thought patterns, lust and longing for forbidden things and a selfish, shallow heroine, combine to send up some red flags.

I've got nothing against a good yarn. But the phenomenon of "this is great!" and the propensity to fall into the trap of emotional adultery while meditating on this obsessive relationship is troublesome, especially in a community of faith where we should be talking about this stuff, yes, but in the context of encouraging one another to overcome, to battle, to seek victory against the world, flesh and devil.

I don't have the energy now to delve into it all. Sure, it's an issue of conscience. Sure, there's no "rule". It's permissible, but I doubt it's beneficial. Especially for young women (and men) who will face the reality of long-term, godly marriages that will require selfless sacrifice, hard work, and the power of the Holy Spirit, and will, hopefully, yield a good measure of obsessiveness....

Guacamole dip is ready...

I've attached a good review. If you disagree, you'll likely agree with some of the comments.

http://spesunica.wordpress.com/2008/11/16/the-twilight-saga-a-critique/

Be Thankful

E-mail from my Father-in-Law asking if my job was 'really that bad' and reminding me to BE THANKFUL! This was true and convicting, and the answer is, 'no, it is not really that bad.'

Mancow's radio show dealt (briefly) with the same theme-choosing happiness. Mancow's sidekick, Al, acknowledged the truth of the thesis that we can choose to be happy, but promptly admitted how he does the opposite. How easy it is to sink into negativity! The problem is confounded when well-done cynicism and pretty darn funny humor help draw you in (Dilbert, South Park).

I resist the idea of walking around with a fake smile or a Pollyanna attitude. But I don't want to give in to negativity and cynicism either. Perhaps it's difficult to face reality, to live in tension. The absurd, the true, the false, the noble and beautiful, the ugly and profane co-exist in this place and time. Things aren't exactly right, but they're not all bad either. I must cultivate thankfulness as 'second nature' rather than cynicism or sarcasm and negativity.

Bird Friends

EV and I drove out to Norfolk this evening for her Bible study. One thing we enjoy is sharing deep lyrics like

"I never know what you're gonna find when you open up your letterbox tomorrow
'Cause a little bird never tells me anything that I wanna know, she's my best friend, she's a sparrow"*

we just laughed...

These are the moments, I thank God that I'm alive...

really!

*Lyrics by They Might Be Giants

At the Beach

I've been thinking some about "resolve." I've also been feeling some like an idiot, which I can be. Why is it that making a resolution fills me with such trepidation & doubt? So many places to go with that one, but I think it's back to vanity. Yep- making a resolution is a commitment to work which means hardship and discomfort at times, saying 'no' to the flesh and all that, which is 'the battle' in a lot of ways. The problem for me is that this attacks and calls into question what and who I think I am, or want to be, or want to think I am, which of course, is a much more nice and sanctified version of who or what I really am...

Resolve means " to reach a firm decision about" (merriam webster). And my makeup, sadly, has brought me to a place where I feel like there have been very few firm decisions I've made. Hence, I often feel like not much has been done. So, okay, enough about that.

I resolve to get rid of anger, to stand up to my fear, to write some songs and to write in my blog a little more often. I resolve to connect more with what is going on in my homeschool. I resolve to think less about me.

Just some thoughts from the hot beach....