When I was a smoker, one of the most irritating things was when people tried to encourage me to quit. They told me all sorts of things I already knew, about lung disease and yellow teeth and the like, as if that would be why I would quit. I was in my early 20's, I had a lot of insecurities and really wanted to fit in. I read an interview with Julia Roberts, who was sexy and beautiful and famous, in Rolling Stone, where it described her lighting up her Marlboro Red, and I was smitten. I think I bought a pack that day (which nearly killed me, those things are barely filtered).

But then, unbelievably (to me), I actually became addicted. So when I actually finally wanted to quit, it was really, really hard. It took me a full year to stop having relapses, and now, eight years after my last cigarette, I still long for one every now and then. Of course, I know that if I did smoke a cigarette now, I would hate it. But there were certain things about being a smoker I actually miss - the comeraderie shared by fellow smokers, often coming from all sorts of backgrounds and demographics, uniting around the little pot of sand outside the building,,, or the cigarette break, which took you away from your work for a few minutes to think and observe life outside your cubicle or theater or trailer on set (which was where I was working mostly those days). It was also a way to feel rebellious, which I needed back then. Nowadays, I have a different rebellion - rebelling against consumerism (or at least wanting to), rebelling against the stereotypes of 30-something single women, rebelling against sexual promiscutiy and the negative aspects of the feminist movement and the post-modern attitude to deny absolute truth.

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Here is some helpful insight from Peter Cha to this timely question. 

Video courtesy of The Gospel Coalition.

I read something today that AW Tozer wrote in the early 1960's that is on topic.

"How long do you think it will be, if Jesus tarries, before some of the amazing new churches like those in the primitive Baliem Valley of Iraian Jaya, Indonesia, will be sending gospel missionaries to Canada and the United States?

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(Part 1 of the three-part series: What We Really Need Now is “No”)

Just when I had almost purged the memory from my mind, the “pregnant man” re-emerged in the pop culture zeitgeist, and reminded me (as if I needed reminding) that the world is on the brink of losing whatever shred of rational bearings it still has left.

The pregnant man. Oh, the pregnant man. “He” (aka Thomas Beatie, formerly Tracy Beatie) first made waves last spring when (s)he appeared on Oprah, with a beard and a pregnant belly. (S)he gave birth to a baby girl last summer, which (s)he plans to raise with his/her wife/lesbian, Nancy. To read about the sordid biological minutia of all this, just google “Thomas Beatie Pregnant Man.”

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I saw this video awhile back and thought it was well done and encouraging. So check it out and let me know what you think. 

(Note: if you are the kind of person who can't listen to Christmas music until the day after Thanksgiving, then maybe wait to watch until Friday).

 

A few months ago, I accompanied Mako Fujimura to Colorado for the Via Affirmativa retreat at Glen Eyrie. Mako invited me to supplement his talk by speaking about IAM. The theme of the retreat was Excellence, and during my morning devotions the day we spoke, I wrote the following meditation. Later that day, Mako's talk dealt directly with the substance of what I had written that morning, so I decided to share it when I spoke. Here is the (slightly polished) version, originally appreaing on Via Affirmativa's website.

A MEDITATION ON EXCELLENCE IN THE ARTS

If I paint more excellently than any other, but I do not communicate love in my painting, I am nothing more than an offensive noise; like Pavarotti accompanied by an out-of-tune piano: a mockery of the beautiful.

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So I found out yesterday one of my new favorite tv shows has been canceled: Eli Stone.

Sigh.

If you haven’t watched the show (and since low ratings is the reason the show got canceled, there’s a good chance you haven’t), Eli Stone is the story of a lawyer who had it all–high-paying, high-powered corporate job, beautiful fiancee, amazing apartment, a car to die for–until he started having visions.

And his first vision, of all things, was George Michael singing in his living room.

It's a quirky show.

Turns out, Eli’s visions were brought on by a brain aneurysm. It also turns out that Eli’s visions were brought on by God.

Eli’s visions caused problems in his life.

Waterdeep returns to the music scene with a diverse recording inspired by two rockin’ toddlers, Don and Lori Chaffer’s son Miles (5), and daughter Ruby (2).

Pink and Blue is a full-length album that will be packaged as two EPs: “The Pink CD” featuring Lori’s songs and “The Blue CD” featuring Don’s. Multiple online packaging options include a limited edition version which features an original piece of art by their children and a 40-page “grown-up” activity book written by the Chaffers.

The album features Waterdeep founding member, Brandon Graves, on drums, as well as Stan Sheldon (Frampton Comes Alive) on the bass. According to a press release, the album covers both a wide range of moods - from the fun-filled “Life of the Party” to the somber “My Second Try” - and a broad palette of musical elements - from unexpected pop grooves to familiarly vibey, acoustic timbres. The album will be available online at through online retailers and through www.waterdeep.com/store.

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I have never been one to set writing goals.  In fact, despite the fact that many creative and prolific writers swear by them, there is something about having to write a certain number of pages, or for a certain number of hours every day, that sucks the creative wind right out of me. I prefer the romantic notion of being inspired by the muse over the practicality of sitting down and hammering out a certain number of words a day.  

But, in writing as in life, the practical often trumps the romantic and we are forced to create within the bounds of deadlines and responsibilities.  For me, that means delivering a 60,000 word manuscript to my acquisitions editor by February 15, 2009.  This is not a loose deadline.  I am contractually bound to make it happen.

To get there, I've set a personal goal of writing 1000 words a day, six days a week for six weeks. 

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"...there was famine in all the lands..." (Genesis 41:54) I know all the talk about the cup being half full or half empty, depending on one's perspective. I know that we've much for which to be thankful if we'll but open our eyes and see. "There's still plenty of turkey and all", and "look at the starving children on the other side of the world". These are the things we tell ourselves this year as we gather around tables laden with feast to celebrate and express gratitude for God's provision.

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