Help us Out

My family has a problem that has to be confronted. For some time, my father and I have been working on it, making preparations. Barring unforeseen hindrances, today is the day we will put the plan into effect.

I wish I could tell you details, but I don’t think it’s appropriate. I can say this: the problem is extremely severe, and it has been with us for nearly thirty years. In the process of arriving at a strategy to fix it, I have seen God’s hand very clearly, and I think he is helping us, and I believe our approach will work. At the very least, it will put an end to one aspect of the problem, which is that it bleeds outward from the affected person and harms others very badly. I credit God with fixing that, and boy, am I grateful. In reality, the people suffering as collateral damage are already assured of freedom. The only real issue is whether the person at the center of the storm will benefit, and that will come down to free will.

If anyone feels like praying that we will be guided and protected and led to success, I would be extremely grateful. I’m sorry to say that I probably won’t be able to come back later and thank you while providing an explanation. That’s just the nature of the problem.

We are going to need strength, unity, and God’s favor in this fight. I am confident that he will be beside us, and that we will get the best results possible.

Best Pizza in Town, for Pennies, ON DEMAND

The Prefab Pizza Project is going well. I have three dough portions in the freezer, two on the counter, and two in the food processor. I kept one aside so I can have pizza for lunch.

I couldn’t find shredded white cheddar for the cheese test, so I bought orange cheddar. I don’t see what difference it makes. I got the sharpest shredded cheddar they had.

Olive oil was on sale for not too much more than the Costco price. Hard to complain about that.

This is going to make life so much easier, and boy, is it cheap. One cup of flour, two tablespoons of oil, two ounces of sauce concentrate, and eight ounces of $2.50/pound cheese per 12″ pie. It’s virtually FREE. And so much better than any pizza I can buy.

No single human being should have this much power.

This morning I got an earful of negativity and unbelief over the phone. It depressed me for a while, because I was already (in my opinion) under attack. I was concerned about it. I thought maybe I should fast for a day. But the good Lord cleared it up before I could do anything. I found new resolve and new joy, out of nowhere. I am not going to allow myself to be offended by two weeks of illness and the bad attitude of one other Christian. I have been given the strength to rebound, and I am accepting it with gratitude and relief.

Have you ever been in a position where you had to tell another Christian, “Shut up and go home. I’m going on without you”? Ultimately, every one of us is alone with God and the angels. Never rely on another human being unless you have no choice. It’s too easy for the enemy to take them down or turn them against you. Working with others and accepting their help is essential, but it’s dangerous to be dependent on them.

I guess the new batch of yeast is ready. Back to the Cuisinart.

Eventually They Have to Let me Up

I have a question. How long do you have to be on Nyquil before it stops being medicine and starts being heroin in a bottle? I’ve gone through two jugs of Nyquil and one bottle of disgusting Tylenol warming cold stuff, and I’m now on Nyquil jug three. If my sinuses were clear, I’d probably dry it and snort it. I can tell I’m developing a tolerance. It takes one and a half of those little cups to get me to sleep now. Soon I’ll be making Nyquil daiquiris and sucking them through a straw.

I’m like 92% cured, but the remaining 8% is very frustrating. I would describe the symptoms, but they would ruin your breakfast.

It’s amazing how being ill interferes with prayer and other aspects of my relationship with God. I don’t get up early any more, because sleeping longer seems to damage the illness, so my whole morning prayer routine is on hiatus. And I feel like the distance between me and God is greater. Concentration is part of prayer, and illness ruins it.

Perry Stone says hindering spirits come our way when we make progress for God. I’ve seen spirits, and I know people who have seen or perceived them in other ways. I have no doubt that he’s right. I feel like I’ve been shoved onto the sidelines for two weeks, and things were going great before I got sick. This is one of those times when a wife could be handy, to take up the slack. Very often, when you fall, you can pick yourself up. But it’s better to have someone else help you. If any of you want to remember me the next time you talk to God, I would appreciate it. I have my weekly prayer group on Saturday, but that’s two days off.

I know I sound kooky when I talk about the spiritual realm, but I have been drawn into it my entire life. When I was three and four years old, I used to wake up and see hideous creatures crawling up and down the walls and across the ceiling and bed. Night after night, I dreamed the same white-skinned, grinning demon was after me. One night I felt something put its hands on me while I was in bed. I think these things happen to kids more than adults, because the enemy knows no one listens to kids. When you get older, you will doubt what you saw. We can talk ourselves into disbelieving what we know to be true.

We, ourselves, are spirits attached to flesh. Why should we find it hard to believe that other spirits exist? It’s crazy, if you think about it. Even if you’re not a Christian, you probably don’t believe you’ll cease to exist when your body dies. If you can exist without a body, why can’t God? Why can’t a demon? Seems like no one ever asks this obvious question publicly.

People choose to believe that God and other spirits don’t exist, because if you accept their existence, you have to accept the notion of sin, and that means giving up your dirty movie channels, weed, drunkenness, greed, pride, and casual sex, among other things. It means you have to admit you didn’t generate your own wealth and accomplishments. If you choose not to believe, you can convince yourself you’re not going to be held responsible for what you do or don’t do. You’ll be wrong, but it will ease your mind and help you avoid change, and avoiding change is one of our biggest motivations.

In that sense, every human being is an addict. We enjoy things we know or suspect are bad for us, and we know that if we admit they’re bad for us, we’ll have to give them up, so we cover our eyes and ears and persist in defeating God’s efforts to help us realize our potential. We’re afraid to take the red pill. I certainly am. When I turned to God, I knew I was giving up friends and opportunities in exchange for a bundle of unrealized promises. I have to renew that decision all the time, and it’s not always easy. I think this is one of the purposes of communion. Which I haven’t taken in several days.

Christianity means emptying your hands of pretty, shiny garbage so God can fill them with lasting treasures. To get the treasures, you have to be willing to suffer with empty hands for a time. Generally, you’re not going to get the good while you’re holding onto the bad, because God requires us to have faith, and if you never lack, you never have a chance to use faith.

Something very good is waiting at the end of this illness. All I have to do is keep breathing until it’s over.

Warding Off the Prince of Persia

I am trying to figure out what to do for the next 40 days.

Every year my church has a 40-day thing. You can fast for 40 days or make some other sacrifice during this time. You’re supposed to sign up. I was sick all week, so I forgot about it until I went to church on Sunday. They had a form to fill out, and there was no way I was going to come up with something during the service, so I held onto the form. I guess I can turn it in this weekend.

I decided to spend one hour in prayer every afternoon until February 12. That’s a good one. This illness has wrecked my prayer routine, and I am desperate to get it back in shape. Mid-day prayer is very powerful. But that still leaves the question of fasting.

I considered doing a “Daniel fast.” This means you cut out bread, flour, rice, meat, wine, sweets, and all beverages other than water, for 21 days. It was tempting at first, but the more I think about it, the more it sounds like a giant bummer. And I don’t have a lot of faith in partial fasts. I got fantastic results with a water-only fast this summer. I was relieved of some self-control issues, including a lifelong tendency to overeat. But would I get that kind of payback from a Daniel fast? Not sure.

I already have regular fasts built into the month. Maybe I should add one day a week.

Fasting with no particular goal seems like a dubious practice.

Maybe the prayer-hour thing is enough. You can make yourself crazy with unnecessary asceticism.

In my opinion, this stuff means nothing unless accompanied by prayer. Perry Stone seems to agree. He says that when you fast, you’re not supposed to lie around watching TV, waiting for the day to end. The point of the exercise is to enhance your communication with God, so I guess it should be obvious that the prayer part is more important than the fasting part.

Now that my illness is fading, I’m going to get back on track. I’ll be able to get up earlier and resume my morning prayer routine. That will set me up great for the afternoons.

My Fein Multimaster arrived. I have no idea what to do with it. It was really just a way of avoiding letting credit-card points expire. I should find an excuse to plunge-cut some holes in something.

I guess it was a reasonably smart buy. There is no way I would have spent actual money on this thing, so this is the only way I would ever have gotten one.

I’m taking a break from sight-reading practice. I think I finally figured out how to practice correctly. I should have listened to my piano teacher. He said he would open books of sheet music at random and just play. I tried software and sight-reading books instead. For the timing, the programs and books are fine, but they don’t work for note-reading. Why? Because they’re repetitious. Sight-reading is playing music at sight, which means “not by memory.” If you play a sight-reading exercise twice, the third time, your memory kicks in. That renders the exercise useless. You need a continuous supply of unmemorized material. That’s why random sheet music is better.

Boy, was I stupid. I didn’t understand the importance of what he was telling me. I don’t think he did, either. When you’ve always done something right, maybe it’s hard to guide people who do it wrong.

Memory doesn’t seem to interfere with timing practice. I guess it’s easier to memorize pitch patterns than time patterns.

If this works, I won’t have to break the piano up for kindling. I’ll be able to use it. That would be a dream come true. I am hoping God will help me become a competent musician so I can make use of my gifts. Wasted potential is an ugly thing. It would be a thrill to compose some decent songs. I’d love to be able to write music fluently instead of one note every five minutes.

I was insanely gifted at languages when I was a kid. I barely worked, but I won prizes. My college French instructor asked if I had lived in France. Then I got old and my memory weakened, and memory is a big part of it. If I can get my memory working halfway right again, I should regain a lot of my ability to learn symbolic systems. And music is a symbolic system, very much like a language. Maybe ability will trump old age to some extent. I seem to be picking sight-reading up pretty quickly now. Tonight I found myself skipping pieces because they were too simple. These were really easy pieces, but still.

I’m hitting the B1 and sleeping long hours and losing weight. I memorize psalms every day. I can’t think of anything else that might help, except for gingko biloba, and I’m afraid to take it because I have no idea what it does.

You can’t cry about lost opportunities. You have to strengthen what remains and keep moving. I managed to do a good job of maximizing my writing ability. That’s worth something. A lot of people would be happy to do one thing well. Maybe some day I can find a young person who is wasting his talents, and I can kick him in the rear end until he realizes what he has. If you can’t be a success, you can be a warning to others.

I make a great cheesecake. When I question my self-worth, I can always remember that. And maybe music will still pay off.

Salvation Through the Side Door

Day 12 of the mystery illness portends to be the beginning of an uptrend. I don’t feel as weak as I did yesterday, and I can breathe nearly normally, and the things that go on in my sinuses are considerably less frightening.

I went back to the doctor yesterday because I wanted to be totally sure I didn’t have strep throat. He said he did not think I had strep, and he essentially told me to go home and man up.

This is what I get for buying health insurance. Before I had it, I used to avoid doctors, because I never knew what a visit would cost. I figured it was better to die suddenly with money than to he healthy and broke. Now that I’m shelling out tons of cash every month and my expenses have a ceiling, I feel obligated to go in whenever I have a problem. A forty-dollar copay…that’s cheaper than dinner and a movie. It’s not just medical care. It’s affordable light entertainment.

I found out the doctor isn’t an MD. He’s a DO, which means “Doctor of Osteopathy.” I had to look that up. I was afraid I had wasted my money on a glorified chiropractor. I have no respect for chiropractors. Any medical school you can complete in six months has to be a con job.

It turns out osteopaths are real doctors. They’re just weird. I guess he can handle swollen tonsils. If I get a brain tumor, I’ll probably want a specialist.

This morning I’m reading up on John Hagee, the popular televangelist. He has a strange theory that Jews can go to heaven without accepting Jesus. Many Christian authorities, notably Jesus, disagree. I’ve been trying to find out what Hagee’s reasoning is without actually buying one of his books, but most of the sites I’ve found spend more time reviling and insulting Hagee than explaining his odd new doctrine.

Hell exists, and you can only avoid it by accepting salvation. When it comes to hell, that’s about all I’m sure of. The Bible describes hell as eternal, but it’s not clear to me whether that means hell will exist for eternity or that unbelievers will be tormented for eternity. The Jews don’t believe in eternal punishment because it seems wasteful. On top of that, eternity is a really long time, so no matter how evil you are, you would eventually suffer infinity times the amount of suffering you caused, which certainly seems unfair. After a trillion years on the rotisserie, even Stalin would have a legitimate gripe. After a trillion trillion to the trillion-trillionth power years, well, it would be even worse.

The Bible says Satan and his bunch will be incinerated in the Lake of Fire. I have no problem with that. These guys are really evil, and I their unsuitability for rehabilitation is pretty obvious, and incineration is humane and fleeting, compared to the misery they’ve caused. And no one will miss them; it will be a great relief to see them burn. I also have no problem with the permanent destruction of incorrigible human beings; there is no point in keeping them around. But eternal torment? Seems inconsistent with the nature of God.

I don’t claim it doesn’t exist. Scripture seems to suggest it does (although it isn’t as clear as people claim). But I would not be surprised to learn that it does not.

Whatever hell is like, I know it exists, and the New Testament is not ambiguous about the only means of avoiding it. If you accept Christianity as valid, it makes no sense to say some people don’t need Jesus. Christianity is exclusive in its nature. Certain exceptions are obvious: people who have never heard of Jesus, people who are disabled and incapable of understanding the Gospel, people who died before they could make a decision, people who died before Jesus was crucified…you can’t very well expect these people to be held to the same standard as everyone else. But people who knowingly reject Jesus are in trouble.

I’ve read silly claims that everyone who ever lived has somehow been made aware of Jesus. That’s just idiotic. Some Christians claim that even if you were born in a rain forest and never met a Westerner, God has somehow made it clear to you, deep in your heart, that you need Jesus. So if you don’t accept him, you go to hell. Please. That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. It’s facially stupid; there should be no need to explain why it’s wrong. If it were true, there would be no need for missionaries. They’d show up in the jungle, and the natives would say, “We already know about that guy, but we still want the mirrors and beads.” In fact, they’d be sending missionaries to us. That doesn’t happen. There are a few weird stories about remote people having strange revelations, but the general rule is, unless a missionary shows up, no one has a clue. It’s amazing that myths this stupid ever gain credence among people who can read and write. This is one of the outrageous beliefs that make Christians seem dumb. It is not helpful.

The Apostle Paul was flogged repeatedly and also stoned because he insisted on preaching to Jews. And it wasn’t his idea; he wanted to preach to heathens. God sent him to the Jews. If they didn’t need the message, what was the point? God moves in strange and mysterious ways, but he isn’t crazy.

I don’t know what John Hagee is thinking. It’s bizarre for a prominent Christian to make a claim that contradicts the most fundamental and essential tenet of Christianity. If he had said Mary wasn’t a virgin, it would not be a big deal. If he had said there was no rapture, it could be overlooked. The Bible doesn’t say you have to believe in Mary’s virginity or the rapture to be saved. But forgiveness after rejecting the Gospel? No; that won’t work.

Hagee is affiliated with Larry Huch, author of The Torah Blessing. I wrote about this book a while back. It’s pure Judaizing and legalism. Huch says we’re supposed to worship on Saturday (unlike the early church under the Apostles) and that we have to wear prayer shawls and light sabbath candles. These guys are both wrong, and badly so, and you don’t have to be a scholar to know it. The scriptures themselves make it clear.

It’s funny; Huch wants us to do too much, and Hagee would ask Jews to do too little. There’s plenty of error for everyone. Pick the path you like best.

I have much more respect for a rational Orthodox Jew than a Christian who blatantly contradicts his own faith.

How can error this obvious still be a problem in 2010? I guess that’s a dumb question, given that Mormonism and the Jehovah’s Witnesses and the Scientologists are thriving. Human beings can swallow absolutely any story. It’s tempting to think of people as rational–as though they had a baseline level of common sense–but they don’t. Remember Jonestown? Actually, you don’t have to look that far back. Just think about the people who believed the real estate bubble was going to last forever. You could disprove it in fifteen seconds with sixth-grade math, but executives at big investing firms still invested their careers in it.

Here’s another question: how can Christians still support John Hagee? Sure, the rest of his stuff may be great, but that little thing about denying the core belief of all Christians…isn’t that problematic? When a preacher says you can go to heaven WITHOUT Jesus, shouldn’t a little bell go off in your head? Isn’t that pretty much the one thing no preacher should ever say?

I’d love to believe it. I’d also love to find out that fornication and gay sex were acceptable, so I could approve of everything other people do, and I’d love to know that God will bless me no matter what I do. But I don’t make the rules. I want everyone to be happy and healthy and rich and have washboard abs and a weekly orgy and a Ferrari, but I’m not in charge. Near as I can tell, it’s Jesus’s way or the highway.

Must be the Hash Browns

I feel wonderful today, but I can’t figure out why. Is it because I’m getting over the virus that has slowed me down for a week? Is it one of those mysterious Christian things? Or is it the fact that I just had a MAGNIFICENT MCDONALD’S BREAKFAST WITH REAL COFFEE INSTEAD OF DECAF????

Cynics will move directly to the third option.

This virus is extremely odd. It makes one part of my body sick. Then that part of my body gets well. Then another part gets sick. It’s as if every part of my body has to develop its own resistance. I know that makes no sense. It started out in the upper part of my throat, and then that went away, and night before last, it went to the lower part of my throat. Now that’s breaking loose. It spent some time in my nose and sinuses, too. Where will it go next?

When I was in law school I had a bug like this, and when it got done with the rest of me, it made stuff come out of my eyes. I mean, come on. Give up, already. You lost. Get out. This is starting to seem like pettiness.

When I was a kid, my mother passed on a helpful tip from my great-grandmother. Her remedy for colds and the flu was to wrap up in quilts and sit by the fireplace, roasting her feet. I think this probably works, although I have dismissed other old Kentucky remedies, such as drinking sheep manure tea to make chickenpox pustules break. For several days, upon waking up, I’ve been cranking up the heat in the electric mattress pad and lying there until I get uncomfortably warm. Seems to make for a much better day. This is as close as I can get to roasting my feet by a fireplace. Maybe I could roast my feet by the plasma cutter.

I feel better today, but the improvement is mostly emotional, not physical. My symptoms have improved a lot, but I would not call myself well.

Whatever it is, I’ll take it. It’s better to feel happy than well.

I have to get off my butt and go to church today. I missed all sorts of stuff this week. I could have spent two days looking after a big-time Christian musical act while they visited the church. That would have been great. I missed the New Year’s services. I missed my prayer group this morning; I wanted to go, but it was 50° outside, and I was afraid I would be inviting a relapse by getting up too early and driving to Hallandale with wet hair. And I figured I’d give the bug to the other guys in the group, as well as the nice waitress who takes care of us. Then she’d be dead, and we’d be banned from Denny’s.

I considered going to the doctor today just to make sure what’s happening to me is normal and harmless. Then I remembered something. I saw a mezuzah in his office. Do I really want to see a Jewish doctor on Saturday? Wouldn’t I be contributing to the delinquency of a backslider, or something? The last time I saw him, it was on Saturday, and I didn’t even think about this.

I want to DO something today. I wonder how active I can be without inviting death. I could put the VFD on my drill press. I could try to fix the questionable ergonomics in the garage. Sooner or later, I am going to have to bite the bullet and part with my workbench. I have to get a dust collector, and I don’t need the bench any more, because my table saw provides me with, like, thirty square feet of horizontal surface.

AUUUGHHH I feel liquid running down inside my ear! Is this the virus’s latest attack?

Wait. It’s water from the shower.

Never mind.

Not Everyone Was Miserable

Last night while attempting to gain control of my radioactive doro wat roti with sour cream, I watched a little TV. I noticed people were whining about 2009. What an awful year! They were thrilled it was over.

I didn’t get that at all! Last year was great for me. I joined a fantastic church. I met wonderful people. I got delivered from an overeating problem I had had all my life. I developed a somewhat more normal relationship with my sister. I made real progress on some family problems. I got a lot of garbage out of my life. And I got a lot of neat tools.

Last year was rotten for a lot of people. I will try to remember that, and I will not be smug, because my efforts are not the reason my year was pleasant. But I truly believe that anyone who was willing to give up and draw closer to God could have had a great year.

I was invited to a New Year’s party, but I declined. Had I felt well enough, I would have gone to church, but I developed a cough, so I stayed home.

I don’t miss the parties. This is the lamest holiday of the year, including Groundhog Day. I don’t like staying up late. I don’t get drunk any more. I have never been very excited about dancing. I don’t want to pick up women. It’s considerate of people to invite me out, but I’d rather have my sleep.

I like Christmas; the childhood memories will always guarantee that. I like Thanksgiving because there is food. I like the Fourth of July because there is food. After that, my favorite holiday is the day when we set our clocks back an hour. Or the day after I file my tax return.

Halloween used to be pretty good, but now that I’m all religious, I have nowhere to go.

Getting drunk and staying up late the night before January 1st is like having a bachelor party with strippers on the night before you get married. It gets you off to the worst start possible. I’d like New Year’s parties better if they ended at nine. Why do we have to jump up and down and scream at midnight? It’s not like we’re all getting healed of cancer when the clock strikes twelve. It doesn’t really change anything. Why wait up for it? I say smoke some ribs, have some potato salad, fire a few rockets, and go home early. I went to bed at a reasonable hour, and when I got up, it was 2010 for me, just like it was for all the people who got drunk and ruined their sleep patterns. I didn’t miss a thing.

Maybe next year I’ll have a New Year’s Eve Afternoon barbecue, for other people who are tired of waking up in flowerbeds.

Here’s some things to celebrate. I didn’t hug a dirty toilet last night. I didn’t have to refuse a breath test. I don’t have a headache. I knew where I was when I woke up. I’m not wondering if anyone is pregnant or whether I have an STD.

Any holiday people can’t celebrate with their kids ought to be questioned.

People never seem happy on January 1st. Is that just my imagination? They’re quiet. They seem to feel sheepish. Nothing is moving outside. I feel like The Omega Man.

I got up fairly early, cleaned myself up, and got back in bed to sweat the remaining viruses out. That gave me time for a lot of prayer, which is good, because whenever I get sick, my prayer routine suffers. Now the day and the year have a solid foundation under them. That sure beats waking up in a tuxedo, with a mop bucket next to the bed.

I think the need for wild celebrations is a symptom of dissatisfaction with the rest of your life. When I was in college, I was miserable, and I looked forward to getting extremely drunk twice a week. Drunkenness was the best part of my life. These days, I would be upset by the prospect of getting drunk. It would be a chore and an inconvenience. And being around people who are drinking can be like babysitting.

This is going to be a great year, and 2011 will be even better. I base that prediction on the assumption that I am given the grace to stay on the path I’ve chosen; only God can bring it to pass. I expect things to get better and better, even if I die. I don’t need to get drunk to be optimistic and excited.

Thank you, Lord, for an excellent year. Thanks for a positive trend that will continue even after my life is over.

Ancient Ailment has Only One Cure

I just read about Rush Limbaugh’s health problems. I think he needs to get his personal life in order, but I doubt he has sufficient incentive.

Imagine the celebrating, if he dies. Only a few Republicans danced in the streets when Ted Kennedy died. Fringe nuts and kids, generally. But disrespect, cruelty, and schadenfreude are three of the pillars of leftism, so if Rush died, the situation would be very different. We’ve seen what happens when prominent conservatives die; the remarks from the left could not be more despicable were they written by demons.

Monetary success can be a poison. It’s an especially effective poison, because it convinces you everything is fine, and it makes you dread its own antidote. I was thinking about this today, in connection with addiction. The one thing that will beat any effort to help an addict is money. An addict with money can afford to refrain from working. He can afford to alienate his friends and family. He can buy everything he needs to maintain his necrotic lifestyle. He can pay attorneys to fight anyone who tries to help him.

One of the best things you can do for an addict in your family is to write a will and cut him out. It sounds cruel, but it’s not. Most people don’t have inherited money, and they survive. Refraining from giving someone unearned money is not the same as forcing him to live in poverty. And Uncle Sam is always there to catch him if he falls.

To get back to Rush, he does not seem like a happy individual. He spends his workday criticizing people, and then he goes home to an empty house. His fulfilling hobbies: golf and cigars. I’ve been a curmudgeon and a critic, and I think it leads to dissipation and regret.

My pastor talks about money a lot, and he says the reason he does so is that every time he talks about money, he is crucifying the god of this world. I think that’s true. In the physics of human relations, money is analagous to energy. It’s a protean substance which can be transmuted into nearly anything. Sex. A convincing imitation of love. Shelter. Food. Blessings for your friends. Harm to your enemies. It’s the closest thing we have to pure power. We trust it more than we trust God, because it’s faster-acting and requires no faith or virtue to put it in action. It’s a little bit like the dark side of the fictional Star Wars force. It will get you quick results, but later on, you may find that the benefits it appeared to confer were actually curses.

Money is like the tongue. The Bible says life and death are in the power of the tongue, and that no man can tame it. The things you say and write can do great harm, or they can do great good, and it’s extremely difficult to control your words in order to maximize the good and minimize the bad. The money you spend (or retain) can do great good or harm, and unless you’re fit to have money–unless you have enough character to use it correctly–harm is more likely. Developing that control is a great challenge. I believe it’s impossible without the help of the Holy Spirit.

I belong to a branch of Christianity which promotes the idea that failure and lack are curses. It says we are not supposed to be poor. I think that’s correct. Some of the Apostles had employees. Jesus’s father was a skilled tradesman who had at least six children, and Jesus himself was part of the family business. With regard to wealthy people living in God’s will, Jesus said that with God, “all things are possible.” The Old Testament is full of passages that clearly indicate that God rewards people with prosperity and good health.

I believe in prosperity, but I also believe God doesn’t give us scissors and sharp sticks until we promise not to run with them. In other words, I don’t think God would proactively assist a person financially if he knew the money would be spent stupidly or sinfully, toward the person’s own destruction. I don’t think he would give it to a person who would respond by becoming arrogant or overly independent. We are told that if we ask for good things, God won’t give us serpents and scorpions. Money may seem like a good thing, but to some people, serpents and scorpions would very literally be less harmful than cash. Venomous animals can hurt your body, but they can’t do much to your soul.

If all this is true, I guess you have to ask who gives people monetary blessings that later turn out to be damaging. Is it God? Probably not. Not unless God has a purpose in the damage.

I think some charismatics worry too much about blessings and not enough about becoming worthy of blessings. A blessing is not a blessing if you turn it into a stumbling block. Every blessing comes with obligation and responsibility, and the supernatural improvement in character that makes good stewardship possible is a greater blessing than the blessing of which you are the steward. A material benefit is fleeting. An internal improvement is permanent and continues paying dividends forever. The weirdest thing about all this is that God himself will make the internal improvements, even though he later gives you the credit. It’s a pretty good deal.

Bedeviled by Sean Connery’s Catchy Mantra

Here’s a near-paradox. I love sleep, but I hate rest.

I felt pretty cruddy when I got up today, so I decided to do two things: rest, and stay warm. I think it was a mistake to be active yesterday. And the hotter I get, the better I feel. Except for smelling and sticking to things.

What do you do when you rest? I hate lying around watching TV. I don’t have enough character to do something productive while I rest. This is one of those times when the Internet is actually good for something.

What can I blog about? Here’s something fun. I never, ever redeem my credit card points, and they keep expiring. The stuff you can buy with them is usually not very interesting, so I forget to redeem them, and I lose them.

This year I decided to redeem them for a Sears gift certificate and see what I could find. I decided to get a Fein Multimaster.

This is one of those tools no amateur buys for himself, because they’re insanely expensive for what you get. But when you have a pile of old credit card points and nothing else to do with them, putting them toward the price of a Multimaster seems almost justifiable. It beats not using the points at all.

I have no use for it, as far as I know. Detail sanding, I guess. Cutting things in awkward spaces. That’s about it. I think it’s one of those tools that come into play at random moments, when nothing else works. Like a Dremel.

Maybe I should go lie on my back and listen to religious CDs. I actually enjoy that. If you’ve never had an experience you considered supernatural, this kind of thing can be boring or silly, but when you’ve seen a few kooky things, it’s comforting to hear other people talk about their own manifestations.

What else can I do? No cooking. I’ve gained two pounds. Was it the holidays? Partly. Mainly, I’ve been eating too much because I feel sorry for myself. If I can’t do anything or go anywhere, I should at least be able to eat ice cream, right? That was my line of reasoning. But I am not willing to gain weight, so I had to quit.

I could practice sight-reading, which is like studying Harry Reid speeches while eating liver and waiting in line to have your driver’s license renewed. I’ve decided I’m going to do one of two things: learn to sight-read and give keyboards another chance, or give up the whole keyboard dream. A cousin of mine is married to a famous trombone virtuoso, and she suggested sight-reading as a way of compensating for my deteriorating musical memory. Can’t hurt to try. If I can make myself do it, I might at least be able to compose efficiently, even if I never become a good pianist. Composing was my original goal.

I’m working on improving my memory. I memorize scripture and I am fanatical in my efforts to get enough sleep. And I’m losing weight. I have this idea that being fat is bad for the brain. I’m also taking B1 again.

God gave me a big pile of gifts, and so far, my biggest achievement has been creating the world’s best cheesecake. I realize that’s a major feat which, on its own legs, justifies my elevation to sainthood. But I can’t help thinking I should be accomplishing more. “Cheesecake” makes for a short resume. I hear such beautiful music in my head; surely I was intended to write some of it down.

Christian music was great for a few years, but it seems to be in a slump. Some of the songs they play at my church are so monotonous, you wonder why anyone bothered paying for the copyright registration. If I wrote a song like that, I’d delete it from my hard drive without telling anyone. Christians ought to have quality music again. We don’t want to spend eternity busing performers in from hell whenever we have a party.

I could practice. Or I could go look at YTMND.com for six hours.

Plus Boring Virus Whining

I guess people think I’m dead because of the gap in my blogging. Sorry to disappoint you. The virus has left me in a strange mental state in which I sort of drift around like a cloud. I just don’t feel like doing anything.

I’m not complaining. The soreness went out of my throat yesterday, and I haven’t had chills or aches since Saturday night. I’m caught up in a dreamy state in which I lack motivation. And I don’t feel like exerting myself mentally. This must be how liberals feel every day.

I’m so happy I can swallow and breathe, I don’t care much about anything else. I can almost taste food.

My doctor says about 4% of sore throats are strep throat, and the remainder are mostly viral. I tested negative for strep, so I guess I’m in the majority. I had both flu shots, and I haven’t had a high fever, so it’s probably not the flu.

The medicine I use causes much of my suffering. I loaded up on Afrin night before last, and after I got up in the morning, I had the notorious rebound effect, so until about nine p.m., I felt like I had rudder-box packing stuffed up each nostril. I also had problems with 12-hour Sudafed waking me up at three in the morning.

I decided to try guaifenesin. It’s supposed to loosen things up. Seem to work, but not all that well.

The guy who runs security at my church sent an email to everyone who works with him. An organization that trains security people will be having a two-day seminar in Fort Lauderdale in January. I think it would be great, but the $300 price is a bummer.

I think our church needs to have a few members packing heat at all times. We’re in the ghetto, and we collect cash offerings. Besides, being unarmed is almost never a good idea. Remember Jeanne Assam. Better yet, remember the people who were killed before the gunman ran into his first armed Christian.

Whenever I go into the building, I have to leave my carry piece in my truck, where it can be stolen by crackheads. I’m unarmed, the church has one less potential defender, and the crackheads have a chance to steal a nice pistol. This is not a good situation for anybody, except the crackheads. Plus, it’s a pain.

On the subject of guns, allow me to bring you good news. Federal FMJ 9mm ammunition is back down to $9.95 per box, where it should be. What a relief. You can find it at Outdoormarksman.com. They also have Wolf 7.62mm x 39 for $200/thousand. That’s helpful, if you need to sweep your church’s parking lot with a Vz 58. That will learn the heathens respect.

If I can make myself stand up long enough, I may finish my Saiga 12 conversion today. I would be really embarrassed if a burglar showed up before it was finished and all I had to offer him was a 1911.

I try to be a thoughtful host.

Don’t Try to be This Holy at Home

PRIME RIB! PRIME RIB! PRIME RIB!

Time to put the roast in the Showtime oven!!!!!

Another Miracle? Ho Hum.

How many times do I have to write a blog post that begins with me saying that God has freaked me out?

I guess I’ll never stop.

Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately, for the people who just want to read about tools, food, and politics), I can’t say much about the things that are freaking me out this week. They involve problems another person is having. I am working on a solution to some debilitating, life-ruining difficulties in another person’s life, and as he so often does, God is hammering me with one “coincidence” after another. And this time, my dad has a front-row seat. He can rationalize nearly any move of God away, but this one will be a special challenge. Man, I wish I could blog it.

My church is having a ten p.m. service tonight, and I would rather die than stay up past 9:30, but I’m going to go. I want to be there to show my gratitude for the things that are happening to me and around me.

I walked by faith back in ’84, when I lived on Kibbutz Geva. I never knew what I was doing as I made my way across Europe and to the kibbutz, but I found that as I continued putting one foot in front of the other, things simply worked out. When I returned to the US, that all stopped. I started to get it together about 20 years ago, but I abandoned ship because I got offended. Lately, I’ve been getting back on track. And once again, God seems to be right over my right shoulder, steering me around obstacles and opening doors. This is what life is supposed to be like, but it’s hard to make your mind up to live this way.

Yesterday a guy asked me if I wanted to write a book about his life. This happened as a result of the problems I mentioned above. I was in his office, trying to get help for someone else, and he dropped this question on me out of the blue. In front of my father! Incredible. I want to do it. I’m sure it’s a good project. I don’t know if there is any cash in it, but it’s exactly the kind of thing I want to do with my life from now on.

The person with the problems doesn’t know it, but a “perfect storm” of God’s contrivance has developed. Circumstances and timing are arranging themselves in such an extraordinary, odds-defying manner that this person will have no choice but to make a defining decision that will either end the problems or lead to perdition. Either way, the boil is coming to a head, and the collateral damage–the torment that has bled outward onto other people–is going to be cut off abruptly.

Day is going to break for me, and it will probably break for my father, because of the effect this spectacle will have on him. The only doubtful issue is whether it will break for the afflicted person. That depends on free will. God can be extremely persuasive, however, so I am not losing hope. God blinded Paul in order to wake him up. He has penetrated some very bony heads (mine included) and crushed many revolting egos. Defiance requires effort and strength, and God knows how to weaken people who need to be humbled. He put Lester Sumrall on a deathbed when he was in his teens. He has put many people on the floors of rehab facilities and jails. He has twisted a lot of arms in order to turn people around, and it often works. It’s a mistake to overestimate the impregnability of free will.

The other day I saw an Internet video where some guy was asking Kari Jobe questions, and she grinned and said God was “just wrecking” her life. I know what she meant. When God moves powerfully and quickly, it can be like an episode of Extreme Makeover, only without the ensuing foreclosure and divorce and arrests, because God does a better job than ABC.

If I will just listen, my life will be on rails from now on.

Dinner was fantastic. The pig was gorgeous. Everyone loved the flan. And Val’s aunt made ambrosia, which is…a COINCIDENCE…because Mike was asking me for a recipe yesterday. Maybe I can get her to spill the beans.

Talked to Val’s wife Maggie again about visiting church. I’m going to get them. And their little dog, too. Wait and see.

I have to poke Marv before I get in the truck. Merry Christmas Eve.

Entry Removed

I decided to take down the post I wrote last night because I have a long list of things of which I am repenting, and one of them is mocking people. If I keep cutting back on speech and writing that offends God, there may be little left for me to say or write, but I want to be serious about changing. Sorry your comments had to be dragged down with the entry.

I’m about to get in the car and help Val Prieto put together a pig roast. I’m also delivering two delicious coconut flans. No time to blog.

Pre-Christmas Gift

This is a beautiful day.

Yesterday I did something stupid. I slipped a little. This morning I was afraid it would interfere with my walk with God. Instead, I had a remarkable morning prayer session. I felt surges of new faith with regard to issues with which I needed help. I got mercy.

This makes sense. The Bible predicts this kind of thing. The 32nd psalm says, “Many sorrows shall be to the wicked, but he that trusteth in the Lord, mercy shall compass him about.” And there are other passages that make it clear that God will overlook missteps when you are earnestly and habitually seeking to do his will.

I worked on memorizing that psalm today, and this part turned out to be particularly significant: “Thou art my hiding place. Thou shalt preserve me from trouble.” God doesn’t speak idle words. He means everything he says. This verse is not just something he told us to make us feel good. It’s a contract more reliable than the US Constitution (especially under the Obama administration). I thought about this verse today while I was asking for God’s protection, and I felt waves of faith telling me that today, God is preserving me from trouble. I don’t know what’s up, but I know he is looking out for me, and that I’ll be protected.

This psalm is extremely instructive. When I first started working on memorizing it, I didn’t really understand it. It’s about protection and forgiveness, and that’s obvious, but what it’s really about is the necessity of admitting guilt. It says God may make you completely miserable while you pretend you have no sin, and that you will get relief and protection if you confess completely (without guile) and ask for forgiveness. It elaborates, saying God will teach you and guide you, but only if you allow yourself to be taught. Otherwise, “many sorrows.”

“When I kept silence, my bones waxed old through my roaring, all the day long. For day and night, thy hand was heavy upon me. My moisture is turned into the drought of summer.” That means a person who won’t admit fault before God will suffer and will not receive mercy.

“I acknowledged my sin unto thee, and mine iniquity have I not hid. I said, I will confess my transgressions unto the Lord, and thou forgavest the iniquity of my sin. For this shall every one that is godly pray unto thee in a day when thou mayest be found. Surely in the floods of great waters they shall not come near unto him.” Confess and be forgiven, and God will stop afflicting you and begin protecting you.

It disturbs me when people I know tell me they haven’t sinned. What they say is that they haven’t sinned, but what I hear is, “God, punish and frustrate me until I want to die. Make me poor, let me be alone, take my house, and give me diseases. Give me neurosis, anxiety, depression, and conflict. Make me unable to enjoy the good things in my life; turn them into liabilities. And let me lose to people I should beat.”

I believe God deals with us the way caring people deal with addicts. We get a certain amount of slack, and if we don’t repent, God backs away and lets us fall. The 141st psalm says, “Let the righteous smite me; it shall be a kindness: and let him reprove me; it shall be an excellent oil, which shall not break my head.” Sometimes punishment is literally better than gold. In fact, material success can be the worst poison there is. It robs you of the incentive to change and confirms your self-destructive inclinations. Look at Elvis and Michael Jackson. If they had hit bottom instead of being inundated with money and power, they might be alive today. Look at Chris Farley and John Belushi.

It’s always tough to know how to deal with rebellious people. We’re supposed to intercede, and we’re not supposed to be like Jonah, who wanted bad people to be punished. But Paul turned a rebellious man over to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, and Elisha cursed his servant with leprosy for conniving to take money from a man Elisha healed. Sometimes standing between another person and punishment is actually evil.

I am grateful for many of the bad things that have happened to me. I’ve learned a lot from them. It won’t hurt others to go through similar things.

Mercy is wonderful, and I’m glad whenever I receive it. But a lot of people have been saved by a good dose of God’s belt.

Holiday Prayer

I just had a visit from Val Prieto. He was borrowing a cooler to marinate this year’s lechon for Noche Buena. His mom is having health problems, including a hernia. If you would like to offer a prayer, he would appreciate it.