Two Items

Reader Ruth just sent this:

My grandson is scheduled to leave for Afghanistan tomorrow. If his wife goes into the hospital for their first baby before he leaves the ground, he comes home for family leave. Her doctor visit this morning showed she was in some sort of prelabor but not hospital worthy yet. Please pray this baby gets her into the hospital before tomorrow. My grandson might not make it home in time but could be there shortly after.
Thanks, Ruth

Also, reader Ed has a blog. I am trying to get something done at the moment, so I haven’t seen it yet, but I feel safe in saying you will not be offended or get in trouble if you click the link.

I am trying to get my butt in the garage and work on arranging the clutter. Maybe I can squeeze in an hour or two if I’m lucky.

More

From Ruth:

Eliot’s deployment has been put off until Tuesday! The doctor actually expects the baby to come before then. So my sister who said, lets just pray the baby comes when it is best for it, showed us the way to make it so Eliot doesn’t leave in 24 hours. Yeay!

My Unlikeliest Hobby

I thought this morning it might be interesting to ask about people’s experiences with fasting.

Fasting is a necessary part of Christian life. The New Testament makes it clear over and over. I cannot say I am thrilled about it. Anyone who has been reading my writing for more than six months knows I like food. After all, I wrote the world’s unhealthiest cookbook. In the minds of many Christians, whether or not they acknowledge it, overeating is the one physical pleasure God doesn’t restrict, so they cram the food in with both hands. And many of us fast pretty badly. We do things like going a whole day eating only nuts. That’s not much of a fast. Nuts are little packages of fat and carbs. If you want to eat something higher in calories than nuts, you pretty much have to chew sticks of butter.

I have also heard of people fasting with regard to certain foods, like meat or soft drinks. Again, not very impressive. I can go a day without meat and eat like a king. Cheese pizza has no meat in it. Neither does apple pie. Now I’m making myself hungry, and all I have in front of me is oatmeal.

I guess I cite Perry Stone a lot these days. I can’t help it. I really enjoy his work. His take on halfhearted fasting is that God notices it, but that real fasting is better. I guess that must be right. The Bible is full of things that could be considered partial fasts. Samson could not drink wine. The Jews have kashrut. And Jews have all sorts of temporary dietary and behavioral restrictions they observe during the year. I can’t say a partial fast is a bad thing, but surely, when you want real results, you’re better off doing it right.

The Jews don’t even drink water during their fasts. That’s pretty tough. The Bible says Jesus went forty days. Did that include refusing water? If so, wow. I just checked a survival site which lists 10 days as a likely estimate of the time it takes to die from thirst.

I fast on occasion, although I drink water, and sometimes I permit myself unsweetened, no-calorie liquids. While many people talk about how fasting makes them feel close to God, I find that it makes me feel farther away. My head hurts. I don’t think well. I get depressed and anxious. When I pray, I feel alone. The first day is the worst. The second day is not fun. I can’t remember what the third day is like, because it has been a very long time since I went three days. They say things get better once your body adjusts.

Am I the only one who feels this way? They say fasting is a method of afflicting yourself, so I suppose it would make sense. I find that I don’t feel like praying when I fast, because the effort of concentration is too unpleasant. I try to force myself. I often do a poor job.

My best guess about fasting is that there are two types. First, maintenance fasting. You fast once in a while, even when things are going well, just because you should. Second, fasting in order to get help with a problem. Maybe someone gets sick or your business is in trouble or you can’t get along with your wife. You fast and pray to get God to fix it. Maybe the type of fasting Jesus did is a third type. Fasting to change your character permanently and make you a better person.

I don’t like to talk about things I do which could be considered pious or righteous, except in a general way. If I do something good, I want to be sure I didn’t do it so people would hear about it and tell me how great I am. But I think that sometimes it’s okay to mention things, if I think it can help other people.

I fasted recently, and now that it’s over, I have a surprising result. I don’t feel like the same person. There are certain bad things I feel much less inclined to do, and I don’t understand it. Here’s a funny example. At the end of the fast, I got myself some ice cream, because I was very eager to put the fast behind me, feel normal again, and have a little reward. But I didn’t finish the ice cream. I ended up throwing out part of it. I don’t know if you can understand how odd it is for me to buy a pint of ice cream and not finish it. Especially after a fast. But it happened.

I feel more relaxed. More certain about the future. Less concerned about fulfilling my earthly desires. Less angry. This is the first time I’ve ever noticed any difference in me after a fast. Is this the reward we should be shooting for when we fast, or am I just having a temporary change in mood?

From reading the Bible, I get the impression that fasting is supposed to purify us. Not just fasting, but periods of deprivation, generally. For example, the Jews wandered in the desert for forty years, and when they emerged, they had been cleansed of the individuals who offended God by refusing to trust him. Jesus emerged from his forty-day fast in the desert (preceded by his baptism with water and the Holy Spirit) with new power. He started working miracles and teaching with authority. Maybe fasting is supposed to rid us of inclinations (whether our own or imposed by hostile spirits) that drive us to sin.

I’m not saying I’m totally repaired now, but I can see a difference in myself, and it’s significant. I almost hate to say this, but for the first time in my life, I find myself somewhat eager to fast again, to see what else I can get out of it. I don’t like to think about unpleasant duties, because I’m always afraid God will start urging me to do them. When I consider fasting, I find myself hoping God won’t get on board and motivate me to do it, because it’s so unpleasant. But if I can expect it to change me like this, it will be hard to resist.

As for my infatuation with food, I’m starting to wonder if stuffing myself is like getting drunk. It’s okay to have a beer. Drunkenness is a sin. Maybe food works the same way. I hope not! But it probably does. The Bible condemns gluttony over and over. The book of Proverbs says it leads to poverty.

Gluttony is a tough thing to beat, because you can’t give up food entirely, so the temptation will always be in front of you. And gluttony comes over you while you’re eating in a compelling way, as if you’re changing into another person. It’s not a mild urging. It’s extremely powerful. While you’re under its spell, it’s as if your entire personality and all your priorities have changed.

I still think it’s okay to have good food, but it would be nice if, for the rest of my life, I could stop eating when I’ve had enough instead of when I can’t jam any more in or when the waitress hits me with pepper spray. I’ve been behaving well lately, but on Saturdays I give my diet a rest, and there have been excesses.

If anyone who reads this has any input regarding their own fasting experiences, I would love to have some comments about it. This might be a very big deal and an extremely useful practice, if the benefits I perceive are real and lasting. Over and over, we are told we’re supposed to fast, but the things I’ve read about the beneficial results are extremely vague and unconvincing. If it can change a person’s character, it’s not just a good idea; it’s a gift the value of which cannot be overstated.

I believe in free will. So do most Christians. Aaron says the Jews believe you can enter a state in which you have no free will. That makes sense to me. I don’t think it’s wrong to say a crack addict or even a cigarette smoker has lost his or her free will. At the very least, they are subject to extreme temptation, the likes of which non-addicts don’t face. Perhaps one of the purposes of fasting is to rid yourself of compulsions you can’t resist. Maybe this is why Jesus had to fast for forty days before he was given real power. If that is true, then presumably, a modern Christian can get God’s power by fasting. God prefers not to hand out machine guns to monkeys. Power without self-control destroys us. Maybe we are supposed to fast in order to render ourselves suitable to receive increased strength and blessings. That would be fine with me. Fighting my own nature with my own nature is a tough battle, as is fighting adversity with my limited tools. I want all the help I can get.

I used to think the baptism of the Spirit and prayer in tongues were the main things that changed people’s natures, but I think I’ll have to add fasting to that list. I would rather add fishing or going to the gun range or eating pie, but I don’t make the rules.

This may be a big, big deal. Let me know what you think.

Funny how I happened to write this during the forty Days of Teshuvah.

Strangest Bedfellows Outside of California

I got a disturbing email today. I don’t keep up with developments in the Catholic Church, but it looks like the Pope has put out a 141-page document calling for central control–with enforcement power–of the world’s economies. And he wants it to be based on altruism, which means socialism. The document came out in July.

This is dangerous development. To people who think the Pope’s infallibility goes beyond religion, and there are hundreds of millions of them, it makes it seem as though God is a socialist. If God is a socialist, he is even more forgiving than we thought, considering how socialists have always treated him.

Whatever the Pope’s authority may be in matters of religion, he clearly is not the person to ask about economics or politics. Imagine the shape the United States would be in, if we had to pay taxes determined by the envious citizens of other nations. This is exactly what socialists and hostile Muslims in other countries want. The socialists want to harness our wealth, but they would end up destroying our power to create it. The Muslims know it would ruin us; that’s exactly why they’d be behind it. Isn’t this pretty much what goes on right now, in the UN?

He seems to think the sin of greed caused our economic problems, and he feels that “greed” equals “capitalism.” He is apparently unaware that Bill Clinton and the Democrats forced lenders to take on borrowers who were certain to default, or that these bad loans are the single biggest reason for our current problems. The free market was working pretty well before Fannie Mae wrecked it. And the damage was done in the name of social justice. Exactly the same policy the Pope is recommending. He doesn’t seem to understand that people in positions of power do not operate altruistically just because it’s in their job descriptions. Maybe he needs to review the biographies of a few of his predecessors, to understand the possible contrast between a man’s title and his actions. Popes have failed where he expects politicians to succeed.

One of the great things about Jesus is that he was never a political leader. The disciples were just like the Pope. They wanted it all now. Jesus disappointed them, and when he died, they thought they had failed. They thought religion would provide them with a perfect world government and an all-powerful king who would humiliate and punish the Romans. Jesus understood that true righteousness can’t be imposed from above. It’s strictly grassroots. He didn’t live to punish the Romans and rule on earth. He died to rule in our hearts and in heaven.

God told the prophet Samuel that it was a mistake for Israel to have a king, because kings would be very harsh. I think the message can be extrapolated to apply universally. Governments are corrupt and disagreeable, because they are human institutions. This is apparently man’s punishment for choosing secular rule. Government isn’t something to trust and rely on. It’s something to dominate, limit, and treat with the same respect–if you can call it that–you would give a rattlesnake. The Third Reich wasn’t a business. It was a government.

Satan told Jesus all government was in his power, and it appears to be true, because Jesus did not deny it. If the Pope gets his wish, we’ll just end up with UN-style corruption augmented with Soviet-style power. The result will be totalitarianism plus poverty. You can’t have freedom or prosperity unless property rights are protected. When you control the money, you control everything. Central economic control is the same thing as central government. Period. Saying you want to control a person’s money but not his life is like saying you only want to put one of his thumbs in a vise. Like the thumb, the money will enable you to control the entire man. Ask Robert Byrd or Nancy Pelosi. This is how they got control of the states.

I can’t understand how the Pope can be this naive. Is it because of his cloistered lifestyle? Does he even have a checking account? What if the prevailing government is Muslim and persecutes Catholicism? What if it’s socialist (clearly what he prefers) and continues the socialist tradition of trying to abolish religion? And if we are forced to do charity, on pain of being jailed for disobeying the law, where is the virtue in giving to the poor? Is their maintenance more important than the existence of true charity? If man’s material needs were more important than free will and the righteousness that comes from using it correctly, God would have arranged the world a lot differently. Jesus flatly stated that we would always have the poor with us. He had all of God’s resources behind him, yet there were poor people–many of them Jews–while he lived. That tells us something about his priorities.

Where have socialism and Catholicism ever gotten along? Who paid for the Vatican? Who funds Catholic charities? Who made the Catholic Church the biggest landowner in New York City? Not socialism. Not a central world government. It was God-fearing individuals, making willing contributions. Who will replace their money when the Pope’s system goes into effect and kills all the golden geese? Who will keep churches open? Who will pay for monasteries and convents? Fidel Castro used to force priests to do manual labor, because they were considered parasites. Picture the Pope holding a dirty shovel. Nobody wants to see that.

I am trying to sit on my tendency to criticize denominations, but this story needs more exposure, so I’m writing about it. Some Christians think the Catholic Church is headed in a very bad direction, much as it is widely believed (even among Jews) that Judaism was a mess two thousand years ago. Perry Stone has hypothesized that it may be moving in the very direction the Pope’s writing indicates: toward the establishment of a central authority that will enforce some extremely misguided policies.

I try not to get too excited about eschatology, because for 2000 years, it has been proven wrong about as consistently as, oh, raising taxes to end poverty and stimulate growth. It tends to be right about generalities and wrong on details. But it’s unnerving to see the Pope write something which tends to support the speculation. There are a whole lot of Catholics in the world, and it would be a bad thing if they became convinced that central government would benefit mankind and please God. To me, central government smacks of the Tower of Babel. I think there is a reason man has never managed a political unification. I think God will not permit it until the end of the world, and when he does, it will not be so he can commend it.

I would really like to know what the Pope thinks of Fidel Castro and Hugo Chavez. That would firm up my opinion of him, whether for good or bad.

If Man Can’t do It, It Must be Big

Sometimes things that happen in my relationship with God make me laugh. One of the things I find funny is his way of doing miracles that are very, very small, yet no less valid than big miracles. God parted the Red Sea for the Jews, and it made a big impression on people, as it should have. But what if you’re eating breakfast, and God turns your pancakes into waffles? I don’t know why you would pray for a thing like that, although waffles are definitely better than pancakes, but let’s say you did, and it worked. Still a miracle, right? All the scientists in all the world couldn’t do it, no matter how much money Obama gave them to fund the research. It would still be proof of God’s existence and his ability to transcend the laws of nature. At the very least, it would prove the existence of supernatural forces.

I guess I shouldn’t use the word “miracles” loosely. Today I’m thinking primarily about something which is only borderline miraculous. God keeps telling me where my stuff is. Really quickly.

The other day I wrote about this. I keep having this happen to me: an item is lost, and as I am praying for help in finding it, and before the prayer is complete, I see the item. It’s spooky. Last week, I had a funny experience where I was reluctant to pray, because I was afraid my “lucky” streak would be broken.

Last night, my sister called. She had lost her cell phone somewhere in her neighborhood. She asked me to call over and over so she could walk around and listen for the ring. After maybe twenty minutes of this, she called and said she hadn’t found it. I advised her to call her provider and see if they could find it using GPS, but when she called them, they claimed it had no GPS.

I don’t know why it took so long for me to think of prayer. I told her about my recent successes, and I said I would pray.

I was involved in something, and I forgot for a while, and then I remembered. Maybe five minutes later, I received a call from her cell number. I asked when she had found the phone, and she told me “a few minutes ago.”

I wouldn’t tout it as a miracle, but it was pretty good.

The one undeniable miracle I have received was the instant healing of a bizarre upper respiratory problem, back in 1987. I’ve had other little healings, but no others that were instantaneous and accompanied by strange sights. When I was healed in 1987, as I have said before, I saw something dark emerge from my body and fly away. Do you have to see the Red Sea parted in order to believe? I don’t. A miracle is a miracle.

I told her today that I believed our family was under attack because we were turning back to God, and I apologized for not taking a better attitude about it. We are being pitted against each other, and if we give in to it, we may lose the battle. Sometimes when you think someone isn’t behaving the way they should, you have to let it go and count on God to make it right and reward your effort and your faith. So I’m going to try to do better.

Powerful answers to prayer, including miracles, are not all that rare. People in Spirit-filled churches get ridiculed a lot because of the excesses and failures of preachers who claim God heals others through them. That’s very sad, because while some people publicly proclaim their healings and then die later, others are indisputably healed. Or delivered from addiction or released from prison or given other blessings that can’t be explained absent supernatural action. It doesn’t always happen in front of TV cameras, and there isn’t always a preacher involved, and it’s not always cancer or blindness or paralysis. Sometimes it’s the flu or a boil or an earache. Still happens.

If I had a life-threatening problem, it would not occur to me to go to a special place like Lourdes or to make a pilgrimage to the church of a TV evangelist. I don’t think those things are necessary. That would be a little bit like a franchise operation. The idea that God only acts through “official” and “authorized” channels is very human. It does not strike me as spiritual. It seems to presuppose limitations on God, and to distance him from rank and file believers. James said to have church elders anoint the sick and pray for them. Ordinary people. He didn’t say to seek him or another famous man of God out and give a tremendous cash “love gift.” He didn’t say it was necessary to go to the Pool of Siloam or dip yourself seven times in the Jordan.

I know we are set under earthly authorities, and we’re not supposed to be anarchists, but sometimes we overdo it and try to put God in a box. We try to make him operate the way a human business operates.

For a while, I’ve had the feeling that something very good was about to happen to me. I am wondering if this new attitude toward the problems attacking my family is the thing I was expecting. I thought it might be an opportunity to use my talents for God, or some other obvious blessing, but maybe it’s just an inner change that will break me out of a spiritual “plateau.” That would be a great thing. You can’t build a house without a foundation.

We are having problems. That means we have opportunities. I have to think of it that way in order to profit.

I hate to compare Christianity to dieting, but maybe it’s a valid way of looking at it. Maybe there are plateaus.

Keep an eye on your cell phones. I’m a busy guy.

Forgot Something

The other day I wrote about the way grief works when you have a relative with a serious health problem. It comes and goes. Sometimes you can’t feel it, and I think that can be very helpful, because it gives you needed rest. Grief takes energy, and it’s unpleasant to endure. I’ve had a pretty good week, and I think my sister has, too. We have gotten sidetracked by trivial things, and while they were annoying at the time, I can see now that there was a blessing in them. The bigger issues didn’t weigh on us as heavily as they otherwise might have.

I was just reminded that she has not had a bone scan or a cranial MRI. I believe her doctor told us this last week, but I was just tagging along, and I wasn’t taking notes, and I stupidly assumed there was someone in the mix who was orchestrating all aspects of her diagnosis and treatment. That turned out to be untrue. Learn from my mistake if you have to deal with cancer. Apparently you have to be the mastermind who coordinates everything, because doctors break things down into compartments, and they don’t necessarily keep track of other people’s responsibilities. I guess this is how they end up amputating healthy legs and giving sex changes to people who show up for tummy tucks.

From what this family went through with my mother and my aunt, I know how important these baseline diagnostics are. I don’t want to go into details, but these are things that can completely change the lay of the playing field.

I told my father not to worry about it, and I didn’t go into my reasons for being disturbed by the news, and I’m going to try not to worry, either. I feel as though the rug has been pulled out from under us, but knowing a test hasn’t been done is not the same thing as knowing the result will be unfavorable.

I would appreciate it if people would pray. Not just that my sister will be healed or that the test results will be good, but that the three of us will draw closer and work together peacefully, and that we will draw closer to God, determine which aspects of our lives need to be changed, and turn away from things that interfere with our relationship with him. I never, ever pray for anyone to be healed without praying they’ll reflect and repent as well, and I wouldn’t expect anyone who prays for me to behave differently.

Something tells me this is no different from the demonic attack I put up with when I decided to return to church in 1987. I might as well be a man and call it a demonic attack, because I saw the thing that came after me. I developed a mysterious cold-like illness that lasted weeks and weeks, and one day my faith overcame it, and I saw it leave me and fly away. And I was instantly cured. If that’s not a demon, nothing is.

I think my sister and I are supposed to achieve things for God–I don’t know what–and now that we’re trying to form a relationship and get our lives working, someone powerful is very angry or very afraid, and it wants to put a stop to it and put us in conflict with each other. I don’t care if that sounds crazy. A hundred years from now, I’ll be in a different place, with people who know I was right. Someone sent that thing after me in 1987. I know such things happen. Whatever being is behind this is after my father, too. It makes me angry, thinking about it.

I feel like a nut in a movie, trying to warn people about aliens or ghosts they can’t see. But this is real. This is the nature of the universe we live in.

Thanks for anything you’re willing to do.

Lethal

I decided to avoid canning my peppers. I am fermenting them instead.

If you’ve ever tried kim chi, you know what I’m talking about. If you ferment vegetables with lactobacillus, they develop a nice sour taste and lots of aroma. Tabasco sauce is fermented, if the label is correct. I thought this would be better than using vinegar to give the peppers flavor.

It took me nearly forever, but I seeded a big pile of Tobago seasoning peppers, and I ran them through a food processor. I added garlic, a little water, some salt, some sugar, and some yogurt with live cultures.

When all is said and done, I think the product I’ll end up with will be inferior to the stuff I’ve made with Home Depot cayennes. Those peppers are naturally sweet and full of flavor. These are hot and less sweet, and the flavor doesn’t compare. The appeal of exotic peppers is not entirely based on reason. Some are fantastic, and some are just okay. If an ordinary cayenne is better, might as well admit it.

I read a couple of interesting things today. First, I saw part of an abstract from a medical journal, and it claimed fermented peppers in very small amounts inhibited weight gain. Wonder if that’s true. In a related matter, I saw a very disturbing article that says being obese or even slightly overweight can cause serious brain damage. Like I need that.

Here’s an excerpt:

A new study finds obese people have 8 percent less brain tissue than normal-weight individuals. Their brains look 16 years older than the brains of lean individuals, researchers said today.

Those classified as overweight have 4 percent less brain tissue and their brains appear to have aged prematurely by 8 years.

I have often criticized smokers who took up the habit or refused to quit after the cancer risk became known. Now the tables are turned. Will I be better than the people I looked down on? I sure hope so. I don’t want my brain to turn into Jell-O. I hope I still have a few working cells in place.

Something to think about, if you’re overweight.

In these Days of Teshuvah leading up to Yom Kippur, I am trying to repent of irresponsibility and laziness. I realize Gentiles are not bound by the Jewish law, but that’s beside the point. You shouldn’t have to be forced to do something which is obviously intelligent and pleasing to God. I see the peppers and limes I’m harvesting, and I feel like my obligation to be a good steward extends to them. I’m trying to put them to use. I managed to give some peppers away, too.

I am starting to remind myself of the old mountain women I knew when I was younger. They gardened. They ran small businesses. They did handicrafts. They went to church. They raised kids. They were like the righteous woman of Proverbs 30. I realize the comparison is a little off, because I’m a man, but the principles are the same. I’ve known a number of women like that, but the men tended to have fewer interests, as they devoted themselves to their jobs.

I am so much better than I used to be. I have a long way to go, but I’m glad I’m not what I was.

I’ll report on the peppers when and if they ferment.

Can’t Keep Up

I am going through one of those times when you have to remind yourself that you will eventually be rewarded if you are treated badly.

As usual, I can’t give details. I find myself in a position where I’m being punished for trying to fix someone else’s mess. Barring divine intervention, it’s going to get much, much worse before it gets better. That’s all I can say. Remembering that someone is keeping accounts makes it a lot easier.

I am here because I wanted to put this up, regarding Heather’s mom:

Penny’s kidney function has deteriorated to 15%!
Her blood pressure has been up slightly today as well.
Please ask for her kidneys to healed.
Thanks & God Bless,
Heather

Reader Ruth says:

I have a prayer request for a friend of mine. She was just diagnosed with stage 4 lobular breast cancer. A devious one that is not seen with mammograms. It has spread to lymph glands and bones. Not a good prognosis.
I hate to lay another cancer on your prayer lists. but here it is. Her name is Sharon W. Her attitude is either denial or complete acceptance, I think the latter and she has a cheerful heart.

I didn’t want to put these up on or near a weekend. No one reads blogs on those days.

Today I’ve been putting lime juice up. The trees will not leave me alone. I put up a cup of key lime juice and over a cup of Persian lime juice. I freeze it in vacuum bags. I don’t know what to do with it.

I read something interesting last week. I forget where. Maybe Robert Morris. In the Bible, Jesus criticized certain people for tithing on things they had grown, like herbs, while forgetting things that were more important. I had not noticed that Jesus approved of the business with the herbs. He said something like, “this, you should have done.” Look it up. All I have ever noticed was the part about ignoring the weightier things. So it seems to me that it would be a good thing if I could give away some of the stuff I grow. I have given some away to the only person I know who can use it, but I am probably pulling 20 limes and a dozen key limes every week, and it piles up. I’m thinking of suggesting my church set aside a place where people can bring excess produce.

I also have enough rosemary to stuff a couch. And oregano. And thyme. And I don’t even want to talk about peppers. My banana trees are threatening to bury me in fruit over the next few months. You can only eat so many bananas without going insane.

I have to do something with the prig ki nu peppers I picked. I think I’m going to go to the store and buy a gallon of white vinegar. I have read that it prevents mold, unlike the lime juice I used to soak peppers in. Maybe I can get away with putting peppers in the fridge in vinegar and salt.

The dragonfruit is trying again. The fruit keep falling off. I hope this latest bud amounts to something. It might help if I took a shotgun and blasted the weedeater out of the yard guy’s hands.

I have papayas coming out of my ears, but they just don’t taste good. I should let the Salvadorans clean off the trees the next time they cut the grass.

Man, I miss the mangoes.

I’m off.

More

I had two bags of prig ki nu peppers. I had separated the red from the green. I just hit the grocery and brought back a jug of vinegar. I mixed it with salt, and I stuck the peppers in separate squeeze bottles and added the salted vinegar, plus some garlic. I didn’t have enough red peppers to fill a bottle, so I went outside for ten minutes and picked 0.0001% of the peppers on the prig ki nu bush. Now I have plenty.

I have a ton of Tobago seasoning peppers and habanero golds that are going to go to waste if I don’t do something, so I’m going to freeze a bunch of them.

Now all I have to remember is that I can’t put my hand anywhere near my eyes for two weeks.

Quiet Christians go to Hell

Guess what the humidity level is here today. ONE HUNDRED PERCENT. I think if I stood in the front yard for half an hour, I’d come back covered with mold. When I run the garage air conditioner full blast, it only gets down to about 80, and it smells in there. Last night I had to use the rear defogger in order to see while the car air conditioner ran.

Man, this is nasty. The whole month has been rough. August is probably a great month for Miami burglars, because everyone goes on vacation to avoid the weather.

I don’t know if you’ve ever had this experience, but it has been so hot and bright here, there are days when I come inside out of the sun and sit in the air conditioning and still feel like the roasting rays are beating down on me. They get inside you somehow.

We are having a bizarre combination of rainy overcast days, and days when there are no clouds and the sun seems to chase you wherever you go. I can’t wait for the middle of September, when things should start to change.

Last night, a preacher named Allen Griffin spoke at church. I don’t recommend you visit his website, because it crashes Firefox. He was very good, but he has a habit which is not unusual with black preachers. Eventually, he starts to yell. I don’t like listening to yelling. It hurts my ears and prevents me from thinking. I believe we are supposed to think in church. I may be wrong.

If you have anything worthwhile to say, people will get excited even if you speak calmly. Maybe the phrase “still small voice” will ring a bell. I am hoping the church will eventually get away from screaming and sweating and raucous music. I know what the presence of God feels like, and it always decreases when the noise gets past a certain point. This is why I can’t stand Christian hard rock. If God is present when they play this crap, you only notice it between songs, when the racket dies down. And rap…rap is just stupid, regardless of the context and content. Christian rap is like Christian abortion. A bad idea no matter how you look at it. Why conform to the worst, most depraved lifestyle the world has to offer? I thought the idea was to get the world to conform to God’s ways.

I know you think Jesus was an O.G. I know you’re down with the Holy Ghost and you want to smack the devil up. Word. Really. But rap, by its sonic nature, is inherently expressive of a desire to be violent, arrogant, selfish, and abusive. It doesn’t matter what the words say, if the rest of the sound makes you feel like punching someone in the mouth and holding your gun sideways. Music expresses emotions completely independently from language. You don’t need obnoxious lyrics to make the music itself obnoxious. And telling us Jesus is your homey won’t make up for harsh, provocative sounds. Plus it makes you sound stupid. Jesus didn’t imitate the world. He went to bars, sure, but I doubt he played drinking games or stood on his head while chugging wine. He was there to influence, not to be influenced.

Some people manage to rap about God in a way that isn’t harsh or full of arrogance, but they’re so exceptional, I have to wonder if their success justifies the temptation that brings down the other 95%. Besides, if you perform a certain type of music successfully, you will end up associating with others in the same genre who are not Christians and who will try to make you conform. Then you find yourself in a sex video with Kid Rock, and people start citing your story as proof that Christianity doesn’t work.

I’ve noticed something about Christian performers influenced by rap. They hold their hands right next to their genitals. It’s disturbing. Rappers fondle themselves on stage all the time. It’s mandatory. Obviously, Christians influenced by rap are aware of this, and they want everyone to know they’re serious Christian gangsters, but they aren’t allowed to fondle themselves, so they move their hands two inches to the side and squeeze and pet their upper thighs. The difference may mean something to them, but to me, it says, “I want to fondle my genitals publicly, but Jesus won’t let me.” It’s like the difference between “nigga” and “nigger.” It doesn’t fool anyone. Just keep your hands away from your crotch. Nobody wants to see that in church. The whole time they’re doing it, you find yourself staring obsessively at that hand, wondering if it’s going to move to the center.

I will never understand the “nigga” thing. It’s like saying it’s okay to call a woman a “hore” or a “hoar,” but not a whore, because that’s totally different. Try this. Call the Secret Service and say you want to “murda” the President but not “murder” him. See if they think that’s okay.

A lot of people think getting emotional and screaming is evidence that God is near, but that’s crazy. God’s presence is not an emotional state. It’s something you feel, the same way you might feel a draft or a touch on your shoulder. It makes you calmer, not more agitated. It’s a big mistake to give people the idea that hollering and jumping up and down have something to do with the Holy Spirit. That kind of excitement lasts about ten minutes, and then it goes away, and your fuel is gone. And you can expect to do idiotic, regrettable, embarrassing things in that state. Your antics will offend people and prevent them from coming to church. The real thing lasts and doesn’t take anything out of you. Heathens all over the world work themselves into frenzies and take drugs and beat themselves with chains and whips. That’s human effort. It’s worthless and counterproductive. In Christianity, you don’t have to do those things. And you don’t have to yell.

I get so tired of being told I have to let out a big yell for God, or do a cartwheel, or break dance, or take part in a human pyramid, or bungee jump while playing the accordion with my hair on fire. Give it a rest, Pastor Shabba Doo. Let God do the work. Am I wrong? Sing, play instruments, raise your hands, praise God aloud…isn’t that enough? Seriously, I’m wondering when pentecostal churches will start buying trampolines. He who hits the church ceiling hardest is clearly most holy. Is it church or is it Church du Soleil?

I wish David had never danced. The attention-starved nuts get so much mileage out of that. They like dancing and yelling and acting up, so the rest of us have to like it, too, or we’re not holy. The message isn’t, “This will help you worship.” It’s, “I’m better than you because I carry on like George Michael.” Maybe the old lady in the back row isn’t doing rhythmic gymnastics like the really holy people, but perhaps she prays four hours a day, supports twenty charities, visits prisons and hospitals, takes in orphans, and has all four gospels memorized. Maybe you should quit telling her she’s letting God down by not making an ass of herself. Maybe you’re not super holy. Maybe you just really like putting on a show. Before you talk about the splinter in my eye, take the disco ball out of your own eye, St. John Travolta. Try to get back your deposit on that mechanical bull, cancel the synchronized swimming, and take down the trapeze. I didn’t come to church to see the Flying Wallendas. I have a feeling that 99% of the people who like dancing and acting insane in church are people who really loved doing these things before they became Christians. I doubt God has anything to do with it.

The Psalms say the meek will inherit the earth. I guess “meek” means “inclined to sing way too loud while jumping and prancing like a gay chicken on a hot plate on South Beach.”

Anyway, church was very good, even though they didn’t bring out the limbo bar or the Slip ‘n’ Slide. I guess I can stand a little yelling.

Get Ready for 5770

My sister’s illness pretty much consumed the last few days, but I have two days off, so here I am.

Yesterday I told her something I thought she needed to know, and I think you will benefit from it, too.

The Jewish holidays are still important. Don’t listen to Christians who yammer “We’re not under the law” whenever you mention the Old Testament or its principles or the obligations it lays out. Jesus was crucified over Passover. The baptism of the Holy Spirit took place on Pentecost. Many Christians believe Succoth symbolizes our reunion with Jesus. None of this stuff was ever canceled or rescinded. People who ignore the Old Testament are often the same folks who think the Jews have been discarded, and that we are somehow supposed to replace them. It’s hard to imagine anything more offensive to God.

We’re not Jews. Most of us aren’t, anyway. We can eat pork (thank you, thank you), and we are not required to memorize 613 commandments or cleanse our homes of yeast prior to Passover. But many of the principles in the Old Testament apply to everyone, and the holidays are eternal.

Rosh Hashanah is coming up. So is Yom Kippur. Rosh Hashanah is the beginning of the Jewish year, which, somehow, does not happen in the first month in the Jewish calendar. Can’t figure that out, but that’s how it is. Yom Kippur is the day of atonement, when the high priest used to go into the Holy of Holies and atone for the sins of all the Jews.

Orthodox Jews believe in a concept called “teshuvah,” which means “return.” It refers to returning to God. When you make teshuvah, you examine yourself and determine what your faults are, and you make a decision to change. Jews don’t equate it with repentance, which they interpret as deciding to behave in a new way. They see teshuvah as returning to your true nature, which is good. That can’t be reconciled with the Christian belief that people start out bad and have to be taught in order to become good, but in practice, the difference between teshuvah and repentance is hard to distinguish. To a Christian, “repentance” would seem correct.

Although it is not mentioned in the Bible, religious Jews believe that on Rosh Hashanah, God decides how we will fare during the new year, including whether we survive, and on Yom Kippur, he inscribes his decision in his book. Here is an English translation of a prayer Jews recite. It may irritate Orthodox Jews; I’m not sure. It comes from the work of a Messianic writer.

On Rosh HaShana it is inscribed, and on Yom Kippur it is sealed:
how many will pass away and how many will be born,
who will live, and who will die; who will die prematurely and who will live out his days;
who will perish by fire and who by water; who by sword and who by wild animals;
who by hunger and who by thirst; who by earthquake and who by plague;
who by strangling and who by stoning; who will have rest and who will wander about;
who will be at peace and who will be tormented;
who will be at ease and who will be bothered;
who will become poor and who will become rich;
who will be brought low and who will be raised up.

But repentance, prayer and charity avert the harsh decree.

The word translated “repentance” is “teshuvah,” so right away, you can see fodder for argument. The word translated “prayer” is “tefillah,” which means to attach yourself to God; it doesn’t mean to get on your knees and ask for things. Maybe it’s the kind of prayer David wrote about when he said, “put thou my tears into thy bottle; are they not in thy book?”. The word translated “charity” is “tzedakah,” which means to give to others because it is just and you recognize that what you have is actually God’s. Orthodox Jews consider this different from charity, but to a Christian, this is exactly what charity means.

Quibbling aside, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are on the way. And the 40 days prior to Rosh Hashanah are known as the Forty Days of Teshuvah. The idea is that God will judging us soon, so we should be thinking about the way we live and doing things to fix it. To “avert the harsh decree” we might otherwise face.

This period began at sundown on Thursday, August 20. While my sister was receiving her first dose of chemotherapy. The following day, on the way to the hospital, I told her about the Days of Teshuvah, and I pointed out that it began on the same day as her treatment. Was it coincidental? I can’t say. But when you have something medical science considers incurable and unsurvivable, what could be more appropriate than repentance, prayer, and charity? Everyone needs these things, but the need is more obvious and likely more urgent in a cancer patient.

I work to fix my faults all the time, whether or not it is possible to detect any signs of that from my behavior. I’m thinking this would be a good time to work on laziness and irresponsibility. I want to be neater and more organized. I want to take better care of things. Christians tend to think being a good steward means pinching pennies and giving to charity, but we are entrusted with lots of things that aren’t money, and I think we need to take good care of all of them. We have to try to be healthy. We have to take care of our possessions. We have to use our time well. You can complete the list yourself.

This is all pretty horrifying to me. Already, I’m looking around, noticing things I should take care of. Arrgh. This means WORK. I’ll have to get the ladder out and paint the soffit in front of the house. I’ll have to fix the door by the sprinkler pump. And it’s AUGUST. It’s like a vegetable steamer combined with a thousand sunlamps out there. Arrgh. I can’t believe I chose this.

But I have to do it, so I might as well shut up.

Charity is a wonderful tool. Nobody does the right thing all the time, and if I understand the Bible correctly, you can avoid punishment by looking after others. That’s a real gift, because doing charity is pleasant. What a deal. Prayer is not too hard. Repentance…that’s the hurdle. Ouch. I have to wire up my compressor. I have to get rid of the dead mamey tree.

In the Bible, forty-day periods seem to be identified with change for the better. With cleansing. Think of the forty days of rain, in which the evil people of the world were destroyed. Think of the forty days Jesus spent fasting in the desert. Moses was on Mount Sinai for forty days when he received the commandments and came down to purify the people. Jesus remained on earth for forty days after the resurrection. Are there other Biblical examples? These are the only ones I could think of. All these examples involve new beginnings.

In case you want to take advantage, Rosh Hashanah starts at sundown on September 18, and Yom Kippur starts at sundown on September 27.

While I was looking stuff up, I came across a Jewish blog which goes into more detail about the significance of the number 40. Maybe you’ll enjoy it.

Hospitals Outdo Resorts

I decided to Google “wee-weed up” to see if anyone had ever said it before Barack Obama, and I can’t find any examples. Maybe it’s a Kenyan expression. I think “wee-weed up” is a good way to describe the way Obama reacts whenever anyone has the guts and integrity to call him on his nonsense. Dictators get “wee-weed up” a lot. It’s one of their defining traits. Something to think about. Stalin used to get “wee-weed up” and have people shot in the back of the head.

I don’t think Obama is going to be the great and powerful secular leader he wants to be. He’ll never be our Castro. He’s too inept and childish, and it looks like health care is going to knock the wheels off the shiny tricycle which is his ego. Hillary got impaled on the same prideful stake, and then Obama took Hillary down, and now he’s finding out he’s no smarter than she was. Obama is starting to fade, and that’s great for America, but he is probably a taste of leaders to come. In the long run, our economy is going to continue to slide, and we are going to continue reacting like spoiled brats who can’t face second-tier status, and we will listen to any fool who says he can turn it around. Then we’ll give up our privacy, our property rights, our independence, and our dignity. I really believe this is our future. When the ancient Jews acted up, God allowed another nation to take them captive. He won’t need to do that to us. We’ll take ourselves captive.

I hope I’m right about Obama’s arrogance and stubbornness. So far, he has never let us down. I hope he rides the USS Single-Payer right to the bottom of the popularity polls. If not, he’ll eventually find some other career-ending position to which he will cling. Or he’ll cling to so many small errors, they’ll add up and sink him.

I was supposed to drive my sister to chemo today, but she didn’t take her nausea prescriptions at the right time, so she can’t stand to be moved. When they kick in, we’ll be on our way. I don’t know when that will be.

I keep marveling at the inexplicable spending I witnessed yesterday. I can’t recall the last time I had my blood pressure and pulse checked, but I’m pretty sure they used a stethoscope, sphygmomanometer, and wristwatch. UM/Sylvester uses digital machines on wheels. I’ll bet each one costs $1500. Let me check. Okay, I just found something similar online for about $2900. Whee. This is the kind of thing that happens when you want “the best medical care in the world.” A regular sphygmomanometer runs about twenty bucks.

The chemo room was really something They had cubicles roughly ten feet on a side. Each one had a big recliner and a TV cabinet with a DVD player. I wonder…would the care be less effective if they had a big open room with recliners, chairs, and TVs? If I wanted to have a cubicle of my own, it would probably cost ten grand to build. I believe some hospitals still have open rooms without fancy cubicles. Do they adversely affect the health of patients? Doubtful.

If you want to see where your money goes when you’re in the hospital, raise a fuss next time. Scream that the tea is too hot, or that you hate the curtains. They will send you a person whose job is to sweet-talk unreasonable patients. It doesn’t matter if you’re crazy. It doesn’t matter who’s right. They will appear and hold your hand and say they love you, while you disgrace yourself in front of patients who are more mature.

I’ll bet these people pull down $75K a year, plus benefits. I don’t know if they’re a tort-law side effect, or the result of the free spending insurance always creates, or a product of liberal happy-happy feelgood medical philosophy, or what. Part of every hospital bill goes to pay them.

We don’t seem to be able to draw a line between giving the best care and spoiling the sick. These are two different things. Spending a pile of money on the best drug available makes sense. Splurging on luxuries which aren’t very helpful seems foolish. I doubt that it’s wise to reward sick people for being passive and whiny. There is such a thing as not wanting to get better. We have a funny habit of rewarding and praising people for being ill; that may look like compassion, but it’s not. We do it in order to feel saintly, and to shut patients up. It’s not for the sick. It’s selfish.

If we really cared about the poor, wouldn’t we steer funding away from frills and frippery? Wouldn’t we be able to apply that money to care for the indigent? Nobody wants reusable needles or dirty sheets, but we’re a long way from that. If you go to a luxury hotel in Vegas, they don’t treat you nearly as well. And kissing your rear end is the primary function of a hotel employee.

She just called. I’m off to the hospital again.

We Approach a Curve

I have two facts I can’t reconcile.

Today my sister goes in for her first session of chemotherapy. She has some problems which may force a delay, but they are trying to get it going today. It’s likely to be a pivotal day in her life, and it’s sobering. We don’t know what the oncologist will tell her today. We don’t know the therapy will start, and time is wasting. We can’t even guess what her scans are going to say.

On the other hand, I woke up with a strange and seemingly inappropriate feeling of enthusiasm and optimism about life. I was very happy. And I don’t know why. For a while, I’ve had the feeling that something wonderful was about to happen to me.

It doesn’t make any sense.

When your family faces a health crisis, you don’t want to fall into the trap of being miserable all the time. You don’t want to lose sleep and be unable to enjoy life, and you don’t want to become depressed and ineffective. But you have to take things seriously and make sure everything is done right.

The other day my aunt mentioned the stages of grief. Some people claim there are seven, but I’m more familiar with the theory that there are five. They are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. So far, the theory has not panned out. Not even close. There was depression at first, and since then I think all three of us have been in denial to some extent. There has been regret (including vicarious regret) which isn’t a named stage. I haven’t noticed any manifestations of the other things, unless prayer can be considered bargaining. That can’t be true, though, because I don’t offer God anything I wasn’t offering him to begin with, and my sister doesn’t seem to be changing her approach toward him. I’m doing the things a Christian is supposed to do; I’m praying more and so on. But I don’t have anything new to put on the table.

Denial is a slippery thing. Before the diagnosis, my understanding of denial was it caused people to pretend their problems didn’t exist. The diagnosis is wrong. The call from the ER doctor went to the wrong number. You must have entered the wrong symbol when you checked the price of your stock. Your kid was on the other bus. Things like that. But now I think you can accept the reality of a diagnosis and still be in denial to some extent. You can forget the gravity of the situation and end up taking longer to do things than you should. You can engage in displacement behavior.

If that’s denial, we may be in denial.

When you’re diagnosed with a dangerous disease that progresses rapidly, you have to take the lead, or you have to let someone else take the lead. Your family can’t shoot you with a tranquilizer dart and drive you to the places you need to go. Regardless of who is in denial, only one person’s denial is likely to be damaging. The patient calls the shots. The patient has to plan and execute. That is unfortunate, because they can’t be counted on to do what they should. My dad often says he wishes he could have locked my mother in a closet and deprived her of cigarettes until withdrawal was over, because it might have kept her from dying from cancer. Life doesn’t work like that, and neither does addiction.

I don’t run things, so I suppose my state of mind is not a major factor here. I am doing what I can. I don’t think any harm will result from my feeling good, and if sorrow and grief are coming later, feeling good now is surely a victory. But I find it a little confusing that I can have periods of real happiness, and that I have this feeling of positive expectation about my own life. I feel as if God is up to something, possibly having nothing to do with my sister, and I also believe the degree to which a patient is willing to cooperate and do the right things affects the way family members feel.

There’s another variable in play here. I’ve found that the more I pray, the less I am able to perceive grief. I don’t like to admit that, because it makes me sound like a psychopath, but it’s true. When I found out my mother was on her deathbed, I prayed constantly, and I worked myself up into such a state that when she actually passed, I couldn’t fully feel it. I thought this would be the most unbearable moment of my life, but it wasn’t. Was that the fruit of faith and prayer, or was it my own mind, putting off grief the way a soldier puts off terror? And if you don’t fall apart when someone dies, is it because you don’t care as much as other people, or is it because of your strong belief that death is the beginning of a better life? I think most people see human beings when they look at dead bodies. I have never felt that way. When I look at someone who has died, in my heart, I always feel that I’m looking at something like a vacant house. A place where a person used to live. I truly feel that. I’m not just saying it. And while I’m scared to death of disease and accident, I’m not worried at all about death itself. Part of me looks forward to it, because this life is so defective and tainted. I want to be in a world where things work. My biggest reason for wanting to remain alive is that I want to be here for my dad and my pets.

Keep my sister in your prayers. I think our lives are going to change considerably over the next week.

Who Will Give me $4500 for a Clueless Ex-Bagman?

The other day I sent out my first hurricane email, to a friend on the west coast. The Florida west coast, I should add. I referred to The Cone of Death. We were in it at the time. One of the recent storms was headed toward Florida, and the weather nerds always put up maps with big cones over the areas where the hurricanes are likely to go. I sent a clarification later, changing “Cone of Death” to “Cone of Certain Death.”

That storm fell apart, but now we are having hurricane weather anyway. By “hurricane weather,” I mean we’re getting annoying winds and intermittent rain, day in and day out.

I always love it when a storm falls apart or heads out to sea. I wish I could say I love it because it means no one will suffer, but I’ll be honest. That’s only part of the reason. I also love it because it disappoints hippies. Every year, Al Gore’s ridiculous predictions are proven wrong by the mildness of our hurricane seasons, and there are people out there who find it unbearable.

Maybe I’m just as bad as they are. It bothers me when the stock market rallies. I don’t want the economy to turn around until our immune system kills the socialist flu. If Obama’s Marxist approach fails to prevent a recovery, everyone on the left will say he saved us, and the swing voters in the middle will believe it, because they are the most gullible, least informed people on earth. Then we’ll get more socialism, and the economy will tank, and we’ll be told the answer is even more socialism, and before you know it, we’re Italy or Greece or England.

I still think this is where we’re headed. If we don’t discard this anti-Christian, anti-Jewish leader, and if we don’t change our ways, we have every reason to believe God will stop blessing us. Losing wealth is bad, but if it drives you to church, it’s a small price to pay, and God has a habit of restoring things once we turn to him.

It’s shocking how bad Obama is for Christians. He’s as great an enemy as the unborn have ever had; he believes in letting them die alone on cold tables after incompetent doctors try to kill them. He is very open about favoring barbaric Muslim regimes in their dealings with Israel, the only civilized nation in the Middle East. He wants to tax our tithes and offerings and alms, which, many of us believe, are essential to our blessings. He wants to replace voluntary giving, which is a pillar of Christianity and Judaism, with coerced giving. Men of God will no longer administer the money. Instead, it will go to twisted leftist hacks who will decide which behaviors they want to reward. The givers will not be blessed, because blessings come from righteousness, and there is nothing righteous about having your money taken by force. There is no altruism or piety in it. Nothing worth rewarding.

I will never understand why Jews voted for a man who attended an anti-Semitic church for twenty years. Someone explain that to me. I guess the explanation is obvious. Self-hatred. “Let’s make the Gentiles love us. Let’s give away more land; God isn’t real, and even if he was, we know better than he does. Let’s end black anti-Semitism by electing a black President. If we vote for a secular messiah, people will finally start loving us, and we won’t need to support a refuge in the desert.”

It’s a good approach. It worked great in Germany and Russia and Poland and Spain and Portugal.

I guess I should be more amazed that Christians voted for him. There’s a prominent Catholic out there who runs around debating, trying to prove it’s okay to vote for someone who supports partial-birth abortion and withholding care from live abortion victims. Many Christians fail to realize that we are never going to right the world’s evils through purely human effort, and they can’t see the clear Biblical division between government and religion. In the Bible, God discouraged the Jews from having a secular government in addition to the church, because he knew the church and government would be at odds, and he knew the government would be unpleasant to live under. Now we have a world where people think voting liberal pleases God, because liberals like giving money away. Never mind the fact that a huge percentage of people who vote for liberals do so because they will RECEIVE other people’s money, which is taken away by means of the threat of fines and jail time. I’m not sure how that works out to be unselfish.

There are Christians out there who will eagerly vote for 90% tax brackets for the productive, while refusing to donate 10% to the church. You have to wonder what the world would be like if people tithed and gave offerings. Would government charity exist? There would be little need for it. Right now, we give less than 2% of our income to the church. The figure should be more like 15%. That’s a huge amount of money. Think of what it could do.

Our selfishness created a vacuum, and socialism arose to fill it. And–wonder of wonders–socialism has always denied the existence and power of God, often making Christianity a crime. Coincidence, I’m sure.

I can’t believe I helped create this problem. I used to give, and then someone told me I was already donating to the world’s largest charity via income tax, and I believed it, and I cut back. What a mistake. I cheated God, others, and myself.

How misguided leftism is. Right now, we’re taking nice vehicles, destroying the motors (40% of their value), and parting them out or crushing them. None of those cars will go to the poor. Many would have gone to charity. The government is giving the owners money taken from other taxpayers. In actuality, the immediate source of the cash is foreign creditors, like the Chinese government. Not only will we have to pay for other people’s cars; we’ll be charged interest. Meanwhile, there are people all over the US who have no transportation. What a perfect storm of stupidity. Wealth destroyed. Debt increased. And people are happy about it!

I can’t root for the economy while we’re doing such stupid things. It’s like hoping your teenage son makes good money selling dope.

When God called us sheep, I think he was flattering us. Surely no other mammal has judgment as bad as ours.

Bad Seeds

I just mailed some pepper seeds to Dan from Madison. I emailed him and told him to try not to touch them unless he had to. Yesterday, I used a cutting board to seed two peppers so I could dry the seeds for mailing. Later on, I felt a sharp, burning pain in my finger, and I couldn’t find any injury. I think I grazed the cutting board when I put it away. The pain lasted for hours. I’m pretty sure it was the Trinidad Scorpion. Suddenly I understand the name. It was like a really nasty insect sting.

The other day Jim from SOTW informed me that his dad had had heart surgery. I should have posted a prayer request. Don’t know where my brain was. I’m posting it now. Says he has two stents, but no heart damage. Still has lung issues. Sorry, Jim.

I’m trying to get all serious about the “good steward” business. The limes and Key limes keep piling up, and I have been giving them away and throwing them out. Finally, I decided to freeze the juice. I cranked out half a cup of key lime juice and one and a quarter cups of Persian lime juice, and I divided the Persian lime juice into two portions, and I put everything in vacuum bags. Now I’m freezing them before I suck the air out and seal them.

I better go out and cut down a hand of bananas so they’ll ripen and I can get a start on eating the bunch.

My dragonfruit has a flower on it, but it doesn’t look like the fruit part is going to make it. I can’t wait until that thing starts bearing. It would help if the Salvadorans would stop attacking it with the weedeater.

I propped the limbs of my ponkan tree up with stakes because the fruit are overwhelming it. The tree is healthy but very scrawny, and it is determined to bear lots of fruit. It looks kind of stupid right now, but I know the limbs won’t tear off.

I have to prop up the pepper bushes before they rot. I guess I’ll tie them to the trellis they grow next to. They grew too big for their own good.

This is much better than the days when everything rotted and blew away.

WTB: Hazmat Suit

Just got an update from Heather, RE her mom’s cancer:

Nojo

Church was great last night, as always. But it was also disturbing. In the sermons and videos I’ve seen lately, and in my studies, I have seen a thread that suggests something bad is up ahead, and that I may not be able to do anything about it. I feel like I’m being prepared. But I’m not sure.

The thing I’m concerned about primarily involves someone else, not me.

Pentecostals always strive to get the gifts of the Spirit and the fruit of the Spirit. We’re told to “covet” the gift of prophecy, although it’s not clear that the thing identified as “prophecy” in this context is the same thing that word describes in the Old Testament. Ancient Jewish prophets were supposed to be stoned if they ever prognosticated wrongly; they had to be infallible to be considered prophets. I have heard people describe the New Testament “prophetic” gift as something different. An ability to exhort and instruct people, with God’s guidance. If that’s true, it’s unfortunate that we use the same term to describe it.

I always ask for the gifts called the word of knowledge and the word of wisdom. If we understand the word of knowledge correctly, it means God informs us of things we otherwise could not know. For example, a prophet told Paul he would be bound and imprisoned. This is a good gift to have, because we always profit from knowing bad things are on the way. Very often, we can avoid them through prayer and repentance, or just by taking the appropriate action, such as taking a different road or changing a flight. Other times, we can’t avoid them no matter what we do, but we can be prepared, and we can find whatever blessings follow in the aftermath. And we can avoid being offended. People who live by faith get used to having God solve their problems, and on the occasions when he doesn’t, it’s easy to get angry at God and question his goodness, and that’s worse than the problems themselves. If you see things coming, you’re not as likely to take that attitude.

God has never spoken to me. A lot of people like to yap about how God told them this or that, and I am always highly skeptical. It’s not that I don’t think God tells people things. But I think it’s unusual to be completely certain that God has told you something. I’m sure God has put ideas and motivations and so on inside my mind, but I would never claim God had “spoken” to me unless I clearly perceived words, either written or spoken, which I knew came from God. I would have to hear a voice or read something. That has never happened to me.

Many times, I’ve felt that something I was considering doing or an idea I had had was right and inspired, and then it has turned out I was wrong. What if I had stood up in church and hollered, “GOD TOLD ME THIS,” and then rattled on about something God had nothing to do with? People do that all the time. I’ve seen ministers do it. They say extremely stupid things, and they attribute them to God. Isn’t that taking the Lord’s name in vain? You claim you speak in his name, and then you say something dumb. Is there any better example of violating that commandment? Think about the harm a person like that can do. They can convince their followers to commit suicide, for example. That has happened. What if Moses had made up the thing about God directing the Jews into the desert? “God said we’d be fine. Those dried-up corpses are an illusion.”

I absolutely refuse to say God has told me things. It will never happen, unless I have experienced miraculous events I know I can rely on. God sent Joseph an angel. He sent Mary an angel. He spoke to Moses and Abraham. He sent an angel to the father of John the Baptist. He doesn’t need me to sit down here guessing. My guesses are often wrong. If he wants me to know something, he is well able to tell me. I think God illuminates the Bible when I read, and he gives me wisdom when I need it, and many times, during prayer, I’ve felt sudden rushes of faith that I considered confirmation that I was going to receive what I had asked for. But that’s not “God spoke to me.” It’s wrong to confuse these things.

I saw a preacher the other day, stating that Jesus appeared to him after his daughter’s death. He said Jesus explained some things to him, and he related it to the audience. This is a guy who can say “God spoke to me.” But if you’re trying to quit drinking, and you suddenly have a feeling that God won’t mind if you have one more bender, it’s probably not God, and whatever it is, it’s not someone “speaking” to you. If you’re defaulting on your loans, and you think God is telling you to give him a big offering which you could be using to pay your debts, you may be hearing from somebody, but I doubt it’s God.

I have known someone who claimed to give generously to ministries and charities. I later found out that this person was a financial train wreck, with huge debts and a negative net worth. How can that be, if we are promised time and time again that God will provide for people who help the poor? It had to be because this person robbed men to give to God. If you rip off your creditors to give to charity, aren’t your creditors the real givers? Surely, when this person told me God directed the giving, those claims were untrue.

That’s something I need to think about, actually. I avoid incurring debt, but there is one matter involving debt which I should look after.

I always hope I’ll reach a state where God will supernaturally inform me before bad things happen, in a very explicit and direct way. That would sure be nice. Because I have not been taken in by the liars who stand in the pulpit making highly questionable statements about people who “refused” to let bad things happen to them, “by faith.” I am used to experiencing deliverance and God’s generosity, but I am not a complete idiot. If Peter was crucified, and if Paul was shipwrecked, stoned, flogged repeatedly, and beheaded, bad things are going to happen to me and the people I care about from time to time, and it’s just plain stupid to think I can run around squalling, “I’M STANDING ON THE WORD” and avoid misfortune every single time.

The neat thing about many of the bad things that happened to Biblical figures is that they knew about them in advance. Nobody wants to be beheaded, but if it’s going to happen, it looks much more like a defeat if it happens unexpectedly and they drag you off kicking and screaming. It’s really not the same, when you take it calmly and get your house in order first. For the enemy, there is no real victory in harming you. The victory is in stealing your faith and your dignity.

So this is a gift I would like to have. It’s good to say, “I don’t understand why this happened, but my faith is not shaken.” It’s better to be able to say, “I am grateful I knew about this and was able to get all the blessings out of it.”

I don’t have that gift, but I think just about any believer will routinely receive subtle–or not so subtle–clues about the future. God tends to prepare us for things, and sometimes we realize it as he’s doing it. I hope I’m misinterpreting the things I’ve seen lately.

In other news, I think I’ve made a wonderful discovery. When I started getting into tools, I got myself a big pump jar full of Gojo, because ordinary soap is useless on the kind of greasy dirt you pick up from working on machinery. And the Gojo did not work very well. In the old days, it was great. It took just about anything off, and you didn’t even need to add water to it. It was miraculous. So I was disturbed to see that the new stuff didn’t do the job.

Finally, I pinpointed the likely culprits. Hippies. Who else routinely removes great products from the marketplace? I knew the old Gojo was full of scary chemicals. The new stuff says “natural” on the bottle, and “natural,” like “eco-friendly,” is often a synonym for “more expensive yet totally ineffective.” Like the pathetic pyrethrin-based bug sprays South Florida insects cackle at. I don’t know what the hippies didn’t like about the petroleum-based chemicals in Gojo, but they must have found fault with them, because Gojo is worthless now. I will never buy it again. I also tried Zep, and it’s also worthless.

Yesterday I went to Northern Tool to look at a band saw and a chain hoist. Because I am crazy. And while I was there, I spotted some obscure brands of hand cleaner. I figured the hippies had probably banned all types of good hand cleaner, but I checked the labels anyway, and I saw some very promising references to “petroleum distillates.” I bought the smallest size of a product called Permatex, and I took it home and did my best to grease up my hand, and I applied the cleaner. Seems to work. It has that same mysterious vibrating quality the old Gojo had; remember watching the can shake after you slapped it down on the sink? And it took the crud off my hand.

My advice is to run to Northern Tool and buy several crates of this stuff before the hippies find out about it. They think we should all be free to take street drugs full of lye and baby laxative, but they can’t bear the thought of allowing us to have bug spray and hand cleaner and breast implants. Yoda might have put it this way: “The dark side clouds everything. Impossible to see the logic is.”

I’m going to empty my Gojo can and fill it with Permatex, which doesn’t come in nice pump bottles. Life is too short to spend with black grease smears on your hands.