Free Stuff!!

In true Internet tradition, I stumbled upon a blog through a blog. The blog in question is flowerdust, authored by Anne Jackson.

It seems that Anne has a book about to be released, as well as a flippin' sweet giveaway contest going on right now through Saturday.

The giveaway is for Logos Scholar's Library, a collection of study resources, including Greek and Hebrew resources, different Bible translations, as well as certain commentaries, articles, and reference material.

So do yourself a favor and go comment here to enter. You have to chose your favorite Bible verse, and then maybe tell a story about said verse. The winner will be chosen randomly. If you win, that'd be awesome! If you don't, then you still get to read others talk about their favorite Bible verse, and why it is meaningful to them. So you get to enter an awesome contest, and read stories about how God is alive and active and speaking to us through His Book! Win-win-win, I say!

And since I mentioned my favorite Bible verse over there, I would be doing a disservice to not talk about it here, so read along!

Once upon a time, I had foolishly and very quickly decided that a certain girl might just very well be That Girl. At probably about the same time, she had decided that she was not that girl, and told me as much over the phone one night.

It sucked.

I moped around for a good long while after that, and one day found myself on the other end of town, just driving around. At one point I stopped, got out of my car, and walked for a bit. It was a park that I had come to a few times before, on the Thornapple River near the Cascade Dam.

I walked out towards the dam on the seawall (riverwall?), and just stood for a while. I was praying that God would tell me what to do, because what I was doing obviously had not worked out so well for me. I was broken, beaten, lost.

I asked for something, anything that would show me what to do, where to do, anything. I wasn't really looking for a specific path, I think now that I was just looking for God to show me that He did still have a plan, and that I was in it somewhere.

As I turned to return to my car, I kicked something at my feet. It wasn't very big, but it made a metallic clicking noise, so I knew it wasn't just a pebble. I looked down, and then reached down to pick up a small crucifix pendant.

As I picked it up and looked at it, a verse exploded into my mind: "And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age."

Matthew 28:20.

Jesus had just been crucified, and his religious movement had seemingly failed. The disciples, who had given everything to follow him for the last three years, had absolutely nothing to show for it, except a fear that they were going to be next when the wrath of Rome and the Pharisees finally caught them.

But then they get a message to meet Jesus in Galilee, and so they go. They meet their risen LORD, and he sends them out to all the nations. He tells them to go and make disciples.

Not later, when you finally get all my parables figured out.

Not in a year or two, when Paul gets converted and stops chasing you around.

Not tomorrow, or next week, or next month.

Now.

And then He tells them that He will always be with them, until the end of the age.

Jesus says, "Go tell everyone you know about the way to Heaven. Go now, and don't worry about messing up. Don't put all your energy into getting the message technically correct. Just go show my love to the world. My spirit, my power and authority are with you. This is not about you, this is about me."

How encouraging that was and is for me still.

And, it was shortly after this that God brought my Bride and I together. And I'm telling you, it's better that it ever could have been with anyone else.

wingnut

This is Neat-o!

So I guess I am getting better at this whole technology thing…I am writing this using Word on my laptop. When I get done, I can automatically send it to my blog to post! This is awesome! I think I might do this more often, since the blog post tool for Blogger is pretty primitive. I would much rather write in Word than use Blogger's post tool…

I just thought I would share what I'm doing when I should be sleeping.

Oh yeah, and the third installment of Come and Listen is due shortly. I haven't forgotten!

wingnut

This Just Struck me as Hilarii (that's hilarious, plural)

wingnut

Movin' on up!

I've been focusing more lately on improving my writing. I don't know how well it's been working out, since I can't really tell a difference in what I write now versus what I wrote a year ago, or two, or whatever.

This blog is an important part of that focus, and I have attempted to streamline it, simplify it, in order to create a better reading experience for the few readers I may or may not have.

So I recently redesigned the site, and I love the new layout.

I also registered my blog at Technorati, a website that tracks links to your site, and then ranks your site according to those links. I currently have a rating of 1,723,440, which means that in the entire world wide web, there are only 1,723,439 websites out there that have a better rating than mine! I am moving on up!

Blogged.com also rates blogs by content, update frequency, and layout. I am proud to announce that On a Wing and a Prayer has scored a rating of 7.4 out of 10. Also, since blogs are ranked, the best blogs show up first when searched. So if you ever get the urge to skim the aviation blogs on Blogged, I'm on page three. Awesome!

Also, you may have noticed that I changed the font slightly. I like the other font better, but this one is a good deal easier to read, in my opinion. It's easy to change fonts anyway, so we shall see whether I keep it or not.

Anyway, that's it for my blog ramblings. I wonder, if joking about jokes is called meta-humor, and making art as a comment on art is meta-art, talking about the meaning behind the physical world is meta-physics, then what would blogging about blogs be?

Meta-blogical?
Meta-netics?
Meta-reality? (since the Internet doesn't really exist in a physical way anyway)


wingnut

I may be out of school, but....

...these tests are pretty neat.

Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and if you're giggling right now, you should take the compliment! Oh, and, I won't make you take them over again.

(these tests have been floating around the blogs I frequent)


This is a religion quiz, it charts out your theological worldview. Pretty neat!


Here's my results:

You scored as a Emergent/Postmodern
You are Emergent/Postmodern in your theology. You feel alienated from older forms of church, you don't think they connect to modern culture very well. No one knows the whole truth about God, and we have much to learn from each other, and so learning takes place in dialogue. Evangelism should take place in relationships rather than through crusades and altar-calls. People are interested in spirituality and want to ask questions, so the church should help them to do this.

Emergent/Postmodern 96%
Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan 71%
Neo orthodox 68%
Classical Liberal 68%
Charismatic/Pentecostal 50%
Modern Liberal 43%
Roman Catholic 39%
Reformed Evangelical 32%
Fundamentalist 11%



And while you're wondering just what your results mean, here's another test, demonstrating your areas of intelligence.

After you're done, it will give you a code so that you can share your results, if you want. My code was: rn1zj6sjv06855rkh if you're interested!



wingnut

The fruit of the web browser is news, news, news.

Dateline, Jenison Michigan. 5/21/08

Elijah Jason is not oozing snot all over. Mommy isn't stuffed up anymore. And Daddy, once again, somehow escaped the ravages of the cold virus.

There's a neat-o crashed airplane in my hangar right now. You can read the story here. It's not going to fly again, either. The news pictures don't do it justice. I'd post some I've taken, but I'm not sure of the legality of that. But, it's still less expensive to replace an airplane than it is to replace a pilot, so it was a good crash landing. I heard that he didn't even get a bruise from the shoulder harness. He did better than I would have, I think.

While I was searching for that story, I found this story. That's literally right at the end of our street. I'm not quite sure how fireworks would be mistaken for a hot air balloon, but I wasn't there I guess. Incidentally, it's not a good area to land a hot air balloon. Or crash one, for that matter.

I found this today online, and it made me want to play softball again. And convinced me that the world is still a relatively decent place.

Sorry there's no substance today, but I hope you enjoy the fruits of my browsing!


wingnut

A Scientific Revelation. Where's our grant money?

My wife has had an epiphany. So profound, so meaningful, so absolutely true, that I would be shirking my God-given gift if I did not share it with you.

Farts are funny.

When my father-in-law belts one out at the dinner table, everyone groans. Except him. And me. I can't help but laugh, because he finds so much joy in sharing these moments with family. You can see it spread across his face as he breaks out into a huge grin. He loves it.

Shan and I last night were lying in bed trying to sleep, or rather, I was trying to sleep, Shan was trying to keep me awake, and we were both listening to Eli make his baby grunting noises and squeaks in his sleep. Shan then brought to my attention the fact that Eli always smiles when he's gassy. This is nothing new in the world of parenting. As a matter of fact, I have said it myself many times in the past two months, "Oh, that's not really a smile. He's just gassy." I have heard my sister say it about her two sons, I have heard my cousin say it about his son. Everyone says it. It's just gas, not a real smile.

Ladies and gentlemen, building on the logic and insight of my wife, the time is right to make our findings known.

My wife and I, after careful consideration and impressive research, have concluded that in fact, those smiles are real smiles.

Infants lack the complex intelligence needed to practice sarcasm, and therefore cannot fake a smile. Since babies do, in fact, smile, and since we know now they cannot fake it, babies smiles are real.

It is also, as stated above, well known that babies smile when gassy. When considered in light of the fact that babies cannot fake a smile, the fact that babies smile when gassy brings to mind an interesting fact, namely that babies must think gassiness is funny.

Now our little Elijah is a smart person, but he has not yet had the opportunity to experience comedy in the same way his parents have, and therefore does not have a fully developed sense of humor as do most adults.

Elijah lacks a developed sense of humor, and yet he smiles when he's gassy. It must mean, therefore, that gassiness is inherently funny. Farts must be an empirically humorous for an infant without a complex intelligence to find them funny.

In other words, it is something instinctive. Something innate within the human creature thinks farts are funny.

Why else would Whoopee Cushions be so popular?

Why else would my father-in-law, a grown man, laugh at something so seemingly juvenile?

Why else would my wife and I be wide awake at 2:30am, waiting breathlessly for the next round from the cradle?

Why else would Elijah smile at me with all he was worth before filling his diaper in my arms this afternoon?


wingnut

The busy life of new parents. Or why I have neglected my blog for nearly a month.

The short reason is, I don't know. I just haven't had much to say. Probably more accurately, I have had too much to say.

Too much inspiration, not enough discipline. Too many spectacular, articulate ideas, not enough time without a bottle in one hand and a burp cloth in the other. Not that I am complaining. Far from it. Our little blessing continues to redeem us and love us and make everything okay no matter what. But it takes up all our time, that is for sure!

This past week has been especially interesting. We finally threw in the towel on the old Cavalier. The water pump finally peed itself out, and the repair cost was nearly the cost of the car itself. Combined with a great deal on a Chevy Malibu from Sparta Chevy, the timing just felt right. As I said on facebook, it's not that we enjoy having a car payment, but the peace of mind that is evident on Shan's face and her demeanor when she drives her new-to-us car is very much worth it. Besides, everyone tells us that the Malibu is a very dependable car. Given our track record with the Cav, the Blazer, and of course, my first Malibu ( I miss you, Big Red), we hope to get at least ten years out of this one.

The only issue we had with it was apparently the previous owner was some sort of factory chimney, and the car smelled like a bowling alley on Monday morning. A good dousing with Febreeze and three air fresheners later, we are winning that battle.

Another interesting happening this week was the receiving of an anonymous Meijer gift card. A $50 anonymous gift card. No return address. And, of course, mailed from Grand Rapids, so no figuring out who lives where. We have a hunch though, and it figures they wouldn't tell us.

So yesterday, at church, we continued the Philippians series. We're moving verse by verse through Philippians. Yesterday, we focused on the tension and stress that Paul was under. Here he is, in prison, not knowing whether he will be executed or allowed to go free, and he is still encouraging and shepherding his fellow Christians in Philippi.

Actually, linguistic experts have studied the Greek manuscripts, and say that verse 22 of chapter 1 in particular, is written very disjointed and awkward. It definitely is Paul's style, but we can see from the very way he wrote it that he is under unimaginable stress. He quite literally does not know if he will be alive tomorrow. It made me think of what Shan and I went through with our miscarriages and infertility. There were times when both of us wondered if we were going to continue to be married. It got that bad.

So now, with our little blessing, life again is busy, stressful, and chaotic. We do not know what tomorrow has in store for us. We can't say it will get better, as a matter of fact, we can be relatively certain that it will get worse. But, like Paul says in verse 6, our God will continue the good work He has begun in us until the end of time.

It's busy. It's hectic. It's tiring. But if Paul can find comfort in Christ while in prison, waiting to possibly be executed, then we can too. I can't imagine raising a son is as bad as being chained to a wall, not knowing if you'll be alive the next day.


wingnut

Wanna read?

Interesting article about one of those everyday heros you dont hear near enough about. Jill Long is a military aviator and aerobatic pilot. I love the quote at the end of the story! She also has a website, here.


The Wall Street Journal on Wednesday had a great op-ed piece by Arthur Herman, examining the role that the media played in turning the tide in theVietnam conflict. He examines the actual outcome of the 1968 Tet Offensive, as opposed to how that offensive was portrayed by the American media. It is interesting to note how disasterous Tet was, not for American forces, as usually assumed, but for the NVA and Viet Cong. Though Herman does not make the comparison, I would claim that it was similar in circumstance to the Battle of the Ardennes (Bulge), in that North Vietnam's government and military were supposedly on their last legs and had to cease operations for a time to build up for the push, much like Hitler sought to steal victory from the jaws of defeat in late 1944. Both campaigns were militarily disastrous, but the media-savvy North Vietnamese government was able to pinpoint our weakness and exploit it, in a way that Hitler could only have dreamed of.

It is interesting to note the similarities in reporting from Vietnam, and our current engagements in Iraq.

You can read the entire article here.


And I guess Craig Gross and I think alike. Well, about Dobson's reaction to McCain's imminent nomination, at least. And, the more I think about it, Belichick too. I watched the post-game interview and I commented to Shan that this looks like a guy who's team hasn't seen a championship ring in thirty years, not a guy who's team brought him a record-breaking season with a disappointing ending. You can read his comment on it here.


wingnut

Name Change!

Not that very many people will notice, but I changed the name of my blog.

My previous title, "The Hangar", was meant to convey the largeness of my blog. I did not want people (or myself) to feel restrained in what they posted or commented, and I did not want to confine myself to certain topics only. I know a few people who have different blogs. I have three, technically, but I post the same things on each. These people have different blogs for their different posts. I never really saw the point in that. Just say what you're going to say!

The name also had an aviation smell about it, and that's always a winner in my book.

But the more I thought about it, the more I thought that the name of the blog does not determine the content of the blog. I could title my blog anything I wanted, and people would still read for the posts. Well, three or four of you would, anyway!

So I changed the name.

I have that every once in a while, where a great idea will just slam itself into my eyeballs, and I almost have to stop everything I'm doing to deal with it. Most of the time, I get slammed in the eyeballs by not-so-great ideas.

I wasn't even thinking about my blog, and suddenly that popped into my mind, along with the Buechner quote. Which I paraphrased.

I was also considering a layout change, but I will hold off on that until I find something readable and aesthetically pleasing. My only gripe is all that empty space over to the left, and I'm afraid my HTML-fu isn't quite up to changing it on my own.

So anyway, now that I've spent entirely too much time explaining something of very minor importance, I hope you enjoy the new, more accurate, more expressive name for my blog.


wingnut

Holy Freakin Poop!!

I felt the need to blog today, I don't know why. I considered putting up an old journal entry, maybe cleaning it up a bit and showing it off to all you fine readers.

But then I decided not to. I then though that maybe I could put up one of the entries I have drafted (I have four) that y'all haven't read yet. In the end, I decided against that idea as well.

Then I thought I should post something thoughtful and sweet and heartwarming and intelligent about being a new daddy, but to be completely honest with you, I still don't quite know what to say about it, other than, "AWESOME!!!"

Then I found this

It turns out some Lego nerd (like me) who also likes Star Wars (like me) set aside nine months of his life to build a spectacular Lego model of General Grievous' starship from Revenge of the Sith.

And I do like Legos, and Star Wars. Alot. I've said it before, I don't know how well I'm going to behave when Eli is big enough to play with my Legos, and swallow pieces, and break pieces, and lose pieces.

But I think I can safely say that this man has me beat. By a long shot. I'm not even sure if we ran the same race, but whatever competition we were in, clearly he won!


wingnut

Dear Diary, Today I blahblahblahblah.....plus a pregnancy update!

First, the update: Normal.

Shan's doctor says everything is textbook. I really wish he would give us a copy of this textbook, it would have been handy to be reading it these past few months. Maybe prepare us a little bit. This is imminent, and the weight of that is starting to rest firmly on Shan and I's shoulders. Not that it's a bad thing, don't get me wrong. We are both super-psyched for this to happen, for this new chapter in our lives. We really do thank God for the opportunity to experience this miracle!

But the number to over there to your right is a lot smaller now than it was(myspace and xanga, click here). As in a month and a half. As in we could go at any time. As in, I really should be packing a bag for the hospital instead of typing this. But here I sit...

I usually don't go for these "Dear diary" types of posts. Usually, my days are not thought-provoking enough for me to think that someone might actually be interested in reading about them. Now that I'm reading that sentence, I'm wondering if that's a good thing or not...

Anyway, today was a day about running in to old acquaintances. This morning, I had to pick up the Blazer from the shop. The shop was right down the road from a coffee shop that was started by an acquaintance of mine, Martin (Mocha & Music. Go there. Buy coffee. Listen to live music). I really didn't think he would be there, but he was, so I was able to catch up with him a little bit. I hadn't seen him in a long while, so it was nice to catch up. I could have stayed all morning, but I was on my way to do some Christmas shopping for my bride. By the way, the coffee there is just as good, if not better, than my beloved Starbucks.

At Barnes & Noble, shopping for my bride, who doesn't read, I ran into a former co-worker of mine at Complete Music, Tom. Tom is a pastor, and so it was fun to finally have someone in the office at Complete that approached life from a similar world view as mine. He only worked there a short time, but we would talk, and we would answer questions and debate the other DJs after our shows. Tom also was launching a youth ministry with some friends of his, and it was going very well.

As he got busier with that, though, he had to stop DJing, so I kinda lost track of him. The next time I ran in to him was at Church, and he looked like he had slept about eight seconds in the last year. He had lost everything. He had been pouring his heart and soul into the youth ministry and his church, and everything was crumbling right in front of him. His wife apparently had cheated on him, and was now leaving. On the way out, she had gotten the ear of a few influential members of their congregation, and had told them her side of the story, and in the space of about a week and a half, his wife was gone, his church had booted him, and his best friends had decided that maybe he wasn't a healthy influence for the youth ministry.

Today, I was glad to see him doing better. Not all the way, obviously, but better than the last time. I mean, how can you fully recover from your whole life being destroyed like that? We talked a little bit about me, and how things were going, but I didn't want to talk much about it. I figured that was probably one of the last things he wanted to hear. Mostly, we talked about him. Or he talked about him. I listened.

I really had to get these gifts bought, and I really had to get home and fix lunch, and go see my bride, and get to work on time. But I sat and listened. Not because I wanted to, mind you, but because I had to. I mean I did want to stay, but that's not really why I stayed. Know why I stayed? Because he needed to be in church.

Matthew 18:20.

That's my day. Hope yours are filled with the same random coolness!


wingnut

Well, I gone and dun it

As if xanga and myspace were not enough, I have now three blogs to call my own. I don't know why I keep doing this, other than the fact that blogger.com isn't blocked at work, and the other two are....sneaky, I know. Maybe I'm addicted. Maybe this is my deep desire to be heard and respected. Maybe I was up early and to bed late yesterday, and I'm a bit loopy today.

So, I guess this will be the same as the others. I really see no need to say different things on all three. Cut and paste, you are my friend!

Expect these pages to be filled with my theological musings, based on my experiences with our Creator. Also expect some airplane stuff. Maybe some paintball from time to time.

And of course, the biggest thing I have going on in my life, my family. Specifically, the new addition to the family. My wife and I are expecting in January, our first child. If you ever want to hear a miracle story, let me know. Heck, I'll probably post it anyway. Watch for it. It's long. Four years long. And absolutely woven into the very fabric of our lives. It strained our marriage almost to the breaking point, brought us closer than we have ever been, and brought us back from the brink of apathy to an increasingly close community at our church.

Anyway, that's me.


wingnut