Do I want to go to church this morning? I have much to do and think about and my work which is considered "acts of mercy or necessity" must be done even on a Sabbath. The morning is cool, moist, and cloudy in a way that promisses the same all the rest of a dark day. I can always give the excuse that my rounds went long. I could even intentionally go slow so that a late arrival would be considered no arrival. No one is going to look over my shoulder. It would be sensually pleasant to curl up with a book or audio sermon on tape and descend into a day long nap. Getting up for warmed soup and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches is all that would be called for.
But I took a vow. After all, I am and have been called to be an Elder. People more than the physically ill are depending on me to set the example. I do find the company pleasant. The food is good.
But who is the "million pound gorrilla" in the room? He is God almighty. The maker of heaven and earth. He is the Holy one, pure in all his being and ways. He is the savior of my heart who paid my sin debt with his own blood and pain. He is the Spirit who sees all and records all. He is the one to whom in all the universe I have a debt of gratitude and praise. He is the only one I should seek out this day. His word is the only word worth listening to this morning. His glory is the only glory that counts today. His mercy is the flood that will fill my heart now. Any ministry that I may have, any pleasure that I might feel, any presence I need to seek today is his alone. All the rest follows as they say.
So, do I want to go to church today.... yes, to glorify God and to enjoy him forever.
Ardick.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Friday, November 23, 2007
catch up
What follow is the rest and the end of the line for the old site....
What you do with grease after your are done with it is let it cool and carry it out to the grease dump where some one who has a worse job than you comes by and gathers it all together with all the other grease in town and then "recycles" it. Lovely thought there.
Don't you love run on sentences!
Friday, September 01, 2006
The story about the grease pit and the man is all in every detail true... and yes it did amazing things to his hand. The boss fired him on the spot and drove him to the ER. On his way out he handed me the tongs and said,"you have a new job."
What you do with grease after your are done with it is let it cool and carry it out to the grease dump where some one who has a worse job than you comes by and gathers it all together with all the other grease in town and then "recycles" it. Lovely thought there.
Don't you love run on sentences!
posted by ardick @ 9:57 PM 2 comments links to this post
2 Comments:
catch up
what follow etc.....
men see her sore oppressed,
by schisms rent asunder,
by heresies distressed,
yet saints their watch are keeping,
their cry goes up, "How long?"
And soon the night of weeping
shall be the morn of song.
The church shall never perish!
Her dear Lord to defend,
to guide, sustain, and cherish,
is with her to the end;
though there be those that hate her,
and false sons in her pale,
against or foe or traitor
she ever shall prevail,
Samuel J. Stone, 1866
How long? To paraphrase Bunyons pilgrim, "longer than you want, and shorter than you expect."
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Though with a scornful wonder
men see her sore oppressed,
by schisms rent asunder,
by heresies distressed,
yet saints their watch are keeping,
their cry goes up, "How long?"
And soon the night of weeping
shall be the morn of song.
The church shall never perish!
Her dear Lord to defend,
to guide, sustain, and cherish,
is with her to the end;
though there be those that hate her,
and false sons in her pale,
against or foe or traitor
she ever shall prevail,
Samuel J. Stone, 1866
How long? To paraphrase Bunyons pilgrim, "longer than you want, and shorter than you expect."
catch up
what follows is the text from some older site blasted from reality by blogger in all its wisdom.
ardick
Sunday, September 10, 2006
It does not seem amazing to me that your friends from other countries would have different attitudes about water. Taste, texture, color, odor, consistency, and other forms of data as well as experience and education are all God given tools to use when asking the question, "Should I drink this?" As witnessed by the majority of the population of the planet, many of the most interesting diseases known are carried by water and there is not obvious clew to their presence. Ask you friends about their attitudes towards drinking water and it will tell you much about who they are and where they are going.
ardick
posted by ardick @ 5:26 PM 2 comments links to this post
2 Comments:
- At 10/9/06 6:18 PM, Cada said...
-
Hey Doc! I think it awesome that you got a blog and you will soon be linked. Hahah! I can tell by your opinion of water that you must be a doctor.
Caleb - At 12/9/06 5:48 AM, Alothë Ilissë said...
-
I'd never thought of it that way before (well, not until that conversation with my friend last week), but you're right. Since water is one of the most important substances for life, it makes sense that people's attitudes toward it would tell you something about who they are.
catch up
What follows is the text of several blogs from the past that did not get "moved foreward" when blogger in all its glory went to its new form. I will hence close out that other site never to return.
Are dark and wet as ink,
And slow and softly rings their bell,
As in the slime you sink.
You sink into the slime, who dare
To knock upon their door,
While down the grinning gargoyles stare
And noisome waters pour.
Beside the rotting river strand
The drooping willows weep,
And gloomily the Gorcrows stand
Croaking in their sleep.
Over the Merlock mountains a long and weary way,
In a mouldy valley where the trees are grey,
By a dark pool's borders without wind or tide,
Moonless and sunless, the Mewlips hide.
The cellars where the Mewlips sit
Are deep and dank and cold
With single sickly candle lit;
And there they count their gold.
Their walls are wet, their ceilings drip;
Their feet upon the floor
Go softly with a squish flap flip
As they sidle to the door.
They peep out slyly; through a crack
Their feeling fingers creep,
And when they've finished, in a sack
Your bones they take to keep.
Beyond the Merlock mountains, a long and lonely road,
Through the spiders shadows and the marsh of Tode,
And through the wood of hanging trees and the gallows weed,
You find the Mewlips - and the Mewlips feed.
.... Old Tom B. had it right, the inner journey is no picnic.
Friday, August 25, 2006
The shadows where the Mewlips dwell
Are dark and wet as ink,
And slow and softly rings their bell,
As in the slime you sink.
You sink into the slime, who dare
To knock upon their door,
While down the grinning gargoyles stare
And noisome waters pour.
Beside the rotting river strand
The drooping willows weep,
And gloomily the Gorcrows stand
Croaking in their sleep.
Over the Merlock mountains a long and weary way,
In a mouldy valley where the trees are grey,
By a dark pool's borders without wind or tide,
Moonless and sunless, the Mewlips hide.
The cellars where the Mewlips sit
Are deep and dank and cold
With single sickly candle lit;
And there they count their gold.
Their walls are wet, their ceilings drip;
Their feet upon the floor
Go softly with a squish flap flip
As they sidle to the door.
They peep out slyly; through a crack
Their feeling fingers creep,
And when they've finished, in a sack
Your bones they take to keep.
Beyond the Merlock mountains, a long and lonely road,
Through the spiders shadows and the marsh of Tode,
And through the wood of hanging trees and the gallows weed,
You find the Mewlips - and the Mewlips feed.
.... Old Tom B. had it right, the inner journey is no picnic.
Monday, November 19, 2007
ethics of daily living
As it turns out, I have to put up with not telling many more stories than I could ever share. The little box I work in is supposed to be sacred in several ways. One of which is that it is very wrong to divulge details of my work in a way that could be identifiable with another person. Good old Hippocrates got it right. The stories I hear are treasures of the human heart. They really do run the gambit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control, as well as immorality, impurity, sensuality, idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strife, jealousy, outbursts of anger, disputes, dissensions, factions, envying, drunkenness, and carousing. (I wonder if I am the only one to which this sound familiar.) There really are times of victory and humor. Even when I have to deliver the worst of news or when things appear bleak and all the world seems grey, I am reminded of the privilege of watching and participating in the lives of the people I see. The folks I meet are tremendously resilient. Humans even in despair are very flexible. The reflections of miracles in peoples eyes are a joy to my heart.
ardick
ardick
Camel diving
You really need to ask the bug, ala red baron, at the red days blog about "camel diving." She really is an expert.
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I do love run-on sentences.
Greetings. It took me a few minutes to realize who you were ;)
Wow, that grease story sounds gross.