The other night, I stopped at our local Goodwill to drop some things off. I know that they sell books there, so I snuck over quick to see if they had anything.
I found a copy of a beloved childhood story book that I remember, and I thought it might be cool to read to my kids.
I also found a book by Greg Boyd, titled Letters From a Skeptic.
And then I fell flat on my face. Not literally. I would have preferred to fall literally, rather than how I did. It started at the checkout counter, as the person behind the counter rang me up.
He looked at the Boyd book, and then at me.
"This book is not what you think it is." he said.
20 October 2010
29 September 2010
God and Science
I sit on my tug on the ramp. I should be pulling my departure around, but I've some time to spare, and so I pull the park brake and turn the engine off.
The sun is just beginning to peek above the FedEx building across the airport to the east. The air is quiet, still, and for a fleeting moment I imagine my dusty fly rod in my hands.
I breathe deep of the cool morning air and watch the day begin.
I could explain that at this moment we're moving toward the sunrise at approximately 700 miles an hour as the earth rotates, and that we are also orbiting around the sunrise at about 67,000 miles an hour. I could tell you that the sun and it's planets are moving at 155 miles per second through our Milky Way galaxy, and that the Milky Way itself is moving through the universe at about 185 miles per second.
I could tell you that the radiation given off from the sun is of a certain composition well suited to provide light for the photosynthesis of plants, as well as heat that provides the engine that drives our weather patterns, distributing the water of this fine planet to the plants and the animals.
I could explain that the earth's atmosphere is of such a combination of elements so as to provide a diverse mixture of gasses to support the abundant life on this planet, as well as refracting our sun's light to make our skies blue and our clouds white.
I could say that the many beautiful colors of the sunrise are a result of this refraction, moving through the visible spectrum from red to orange to yellow to green to cyan to blue to violet, and I could say that all of these colors and all combinations of these colors could be seen on any given day.
I might even go so far as to explain that the inner workings of our eye are best suited to receive certain colors and that we see the world differently than some animals because of the features of our eye.
I could say all these things. I could give you endless links to Wikipedia, and university websites where people spend their entire careers studying sunrises and sunsets and sunlight.
I could tell you all of this and more, but you will still never know a sunrise.
We can understand every little shred of insignificant scientific facts about the sunrise, and still not understand the sunrise.
Instead, I will invite you to sit next to me on my tug, with the engine quiet and the windsock limp, to breathe deep of the cool morning air, and truly understand the sunrise.
jj
The sun is just beginning to peek above the FedEx building across the airport to the east. The air is quiet, still, and for a fleeting moment I imagine my dusty fly rod in my hands.
I breathe deep of the cool morning air and watch the day begin.
I could explain that at this moment we're moving toward the sunrise at approximately 700 miles an hour as the earth rotates, and that we are also orbiting around the sunrise at about 67,000 miles an hour. I could tell you that the sun and it's planets are moving at 155 miles per second through our Milky Way galaxy, and that the Milky Way itself is moving through the universe at about 185 miles per second.
I could tell you that the radiation given off from the sun is of a certain composition well suited to provide light for the photosynthesis of plants, as well as heat that provides the engine that drives our weather patterns, distributing the water of this fine planet to the plants and the animals.
I could explain that the earth's atmosphere is of such a combination of elements so as to provide a diverse mixture of gasses to support the abundant life on this planet, as well as refracting our sun's light to make our skies blue and our clouds white.
I could say that the many beautiful colors of the sunrise are a result of this refraction, moving through the visible spectrum from red to orange to yellow to green to cyan to blue to violet, and I could say that all of these colors and all combinations of these colors could be seen on any given day.
I might even go so far as to explain that the inner workings of our eye are best suited to receive certain colors and that we see the world differently than some animals because of the features of our eye.
I could say all these things. I could give you endless links to Wikipedia, and university websites where people spend their entire careers studying sunrises and sunsets and sunlight.
I could tell you all of this and more, but you will still never know a sunrise.
We can understand every little shred of insignificant scientific facts about the sunrise, and still not understand the sunrise.
Instead, I will invite you to sit next to me on my tug, with the engine quiet and the windsock limp, to breathe deep of the cool morning air, and truly understand the sunrise.
jj
26 September 2010
Sunday Quote 92610
Denying God’s power might quiet the nerves of some, but I truly cannot begin to understand why. When the roller coaster inverts me, twists me, and sends me in a tight spiral, I do not struggle philosophically or religiously with the idea of someone being in control or of engineers having been involved or of all of this being in some way intentional. As I quease and scream, do not stroke my cheek and try to reassure me by pointing to a panicking carnie as he wiggles powerless controls. Don’t start holding my hand, telling me about the engineers’ good intentions, but the impossibility of them actually knowing what the ride was going to do or where it would end when they created it.
In those stories, vomiting is my only option. And preferably on you.
– N.D. Wilson, Notes From the Tilt-A-Whirl, p. 71-72
21 September 2010
Numbers
I want to offer a sincere and heartfelt thank you to all who donated your resources for the continuing work of the Lakeshore Pregnancy Center. It is your efforts that continue this ministry that enables new parents to make the best possible decisions for their new family.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
It's done.
I survived one ridiculously long day of golfing. I was sick of it by 1100, and still had six and a half hours to go.
We pushed through, and managed to score a team record, my Dad and I.
Because we in America are fascinated with numbers and results, here's some important numbers from the LPC Golf Marathon 2010:
19: The number of golfers that participated.
2,475: Total number of holes played by those golfers.
225: Most holes played by an individual golfer.
242: Most holes played by a team of two golfers.
162: Holes played by Dad and I (a team record).
$9,300: Most money raised by individual golfer.
$31,763: Corporate sponsorship raised.
$57,713: Total money raised.
10%: Percent of LPC budget typically raised during the golf marathon.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
It's done.
I survived one ridiculously long day of golfing. I was sick of it by 1100, and still had six and a half hours to go.
We pushed through, and managed to score a team record, my Dad and I.
Because we in America are fascinated with numbers and results, here's some important numbers from the LPC Golf Marathon 2010:
19: The number of golfers that participated.
2,475: Total number of holes played by those golfers.
225: Most holes played by an individual golfer.
242: Most holes played by a team of two golfers.
162: Holes played by Dad and I (a team record).
$9,300: Most money raised by individual golfer.
$31,763: Corporate sponsorship raised.
$57,713: Total money raised.
10%: Percent of LPC budget typically raised during the golf marathon.
17 September 2010
Last Quick Note
By the time most of you read this, I'll be golfing my way to and beyond 100 holes, and hands full of blisters. My Dad and I are golfing together, and by this time we've probably both gone through at least two boxes of golf balls (12 per box). Last year, I brought my softball bat and had almost better luck with it than with my driver.
The course we play on is beautiful, and I always think I should come back. But by five o'clock, and however many holes we manage to play, I'm sick of it. It's all we can do to peel ourselves out of the golf cart and walk our bag to the truck afterwards.
My wife and I recently dug out our GameCube and played Mario Golf a few times, so I feel like this year I'm all practiced up.
Wish me luck, and there's still time to contribute if you feel so led!
jj
The course we play on is beautiful, and I always think I should come back. But by five o'clock, and however many holes we manage to play, I'm sick of it. It's all we can do to peel ourselves out of the golf cart and walk our bag to the truck afterwards.
My wife and I recently dug out our GameCube and played Mario Golf a few times, so I feel like this year I'm all practiced up.
Wish me luck, and there's still time to contribute if you feel so led!
jj
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