Three Fantastic Sentences

My friend bought me Reamde for Christmas, a massive 1,044 page techno-thriller written by Neal Stephenson. It is brilliant. I am only 169 pages in and loving it. I had to stop and write this post, because on pages 168 and 169—an open book without turning pages—were three brilliant sentences. The first two are brilliant without explanation. The third is brilliant because I have lived in the the Pacific Northwest and smiled knowingly as this fabulous description of a precise problem one has with slow, constant drizzle and adjustable wiper speeds.

Oddities due to the choices made by players were attributed to “strange lights in the sky,” “eldritch influences beyond the ken of even the most erudite local observers,” “unlooked-for syzygy,” “what was most likely the intervention of a capricious local demigod,” “bolt from the blue” or, in one case, “an unexpected reversal of fortune that even the most wizened local gaffers agreed was without precedent and that, indeed, if seen in a work of literature, would have been derided as a heavy-handed example of deus ex machina.”

The “Meat” were there because of REAMDE, which had been present at background levels for several weeks now but that recently had pinballed through the elbow in its exponential growth curve and for about twelve hours had looked as though it might completely take over all computing power in the Universe, until its own size and rapid growth had caused it to run afoul of the sorts of real-world friction that always befell seemingly exponential phenomena and bent those hockey-stick graphs over into lazy S plots.

“Just wanted to bend your ear a little,” C-plus explained, fussing with the intermittent wiper knob, trying to dial in that elusive setting, always so difficult to find in Seattle, that would keep the windshield visually transparent but not drag shuddering blades across dry glass.

Thank you, Matt. I am truly enjoying this book on every level.

Then We Prayed

I have written this before, and will probably write it again: Andrew Peterson is one of my favorite musicians and authors. We have most of his albums and all his novels. He is a gift to the church. He has been working on a new album (yay!) and wrote this about how they started...

I’m 37 years old. This isn’t my first rodeo. I shouldn’t feel that old fear, anxiety, or self-doubt, should I? Then again, maybe I should. As soon as you think you know what you’re doing, you’re in big trouble. So before we opened a single guitar case, we talked. I sat with Ben Shive, Andy Gullahorn, and Cason and told them I felt awfully unprepared. I doubted the songs. I was nervous about the musical direction the record seemed to want to take. I wondered if I was up to the task. I told them about the theme that had arisen in many of the songs: loss of innocence, the grief of growing up, the ache for the coming Kingdom, the sehnsucht I experience when I see my children on the cusp of the thousand joys and the thousand heartaches of young-adulthood. 

Then we prayed. We asked for help. Ever since I read Lanier Ivester’s beautiful post about Bach (if you haven’t read it, you must), I’ve written the words “Jesu juva” in my journal when I’m writing a lyric. It’s latin for “Jesus, help!”, and there’s no better prayer for the beginning of an adventure. Jesus, you’re the source of beauty: help us make something beautiful; Jesus, you’re the Word that was with God in the beginning, the Word that made all creation: give us words and be with us in this beginning of this creation; Jesus, you’re the light of the world: light our way into this mystery; Jesus, you love perfectly and with perfect humility: let this imperfect music bear your perfect love to every ear that hears it.
We said, “Amen.” 

Then I took a deep breath, opened the guitar case, and leapt.

It’s obvious why I like him, right? (Not to mention he likes Pink Floyd’s A Momentary Lapse of Reason.)

Read the whole Rabbit Room post.

Memorial Day Freedom

We spent today, Memorial Day, with our dear friends, the Crutchmers, who are longing to help provide theological education to pastors in Finland. We played soccer, barbecued, ate, laughed, and generally enjoyed a pleasant, if a tad too warm, day.



We thanked the Lord Jesus Christ for his many blessing to us, including our freedom, earned for us by those who have fought and died so that we could enjoy a day like today. It was not lost on us, however, that our greatest freedom was gained through Jesus’ birth by a virgin, his perfectly obedient life, his cursed death on our behalf, and his victorious resurrection.

So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed (John 8:36).

Alphabet Soup

Mom, and any one else stumbling by who knows my friend Joe, check out the latest video of his son and the alphabet.

40th Birthday Menu

Someone recently learned that I celebrated my 40th birthday in 2010 and asked if we had a big shindig. Yes, we did. Because I don’t like birthdays, nor do I like—for some irrational reason—having others celebrate my birthday, I thought it wisest to take things into my own hands and plan and orchestrate my own 40th birthday party.

It is not necessary to share a lot of details; however, because of my joy of grilling, I thought I would share the menu. I borrowed a buddy’s Weber, and used his and mine at the same time to cook all the main dishes. I spent the day before preparing and cooking dessert, and spent the big day grilling (oh, and I ran a half marathon in the morning). It was a blast and kept me busy enough not to think about the shindig being anything other than a get together of friends.

Of course, Wendy was my lovely assistant and was just as important to the cooking process as anyone else. I am a blessed man, indeed.

Appetizers
Wendy's homemade bruschetta
Barbecued teriyaki chicken wings
Mission tortilla strips with homemade fresh tomato salsa

Main Course
Barbecue hot dogs
Barbecue Hamburgers (with rub)
Barbecue Pizza (Homemade crust with Asiago, Parmesan, and Mozzarella cheeses)
2~Pepperoni
2~Meat (pepperoni, canadian bacon, sausage)
2~BLT
2~Barbecue chicken and red onions
Barbecue Baja Burritos

Dessert
Jello Oreo Dessert ($3.29)
Betty Crocker Yellow Cake with Chocolate Frosting ($2.85)
Jason's Homemade Silky Smooth Cheesecake with Fresh Peaches and Raspberries (Priceless)

Beverages
Water
Juice
Sweet Tea
Coke
Beer (international hand-picked choices from a connoisseur)

Capital “F” Friends

A friend of mine reposted a quote regarding friendship, Facebook, and technology. The gist is that technology should not attempt to represent friendships. The purpose in this present post is not to debate that subject. After all, I don’t have a Facebook account; who am I to criticize?

Rather, I am merely using this as a segue into a sappy post about friends. The following is not original, but I think it is accurate. I lament the lack of deep friendships in life. When I look around, I see people who have huge numbers of so-called friends, but very few deep friends. In other words, there are friends with a little “f” and friends with a capital “F.” The first is a large group with sloppy admission standards, the other an elite, time-tested crew.

What is the difference?

A little “f” friend identifies themselves when they call.
A capital “F” Friend doesn’t have to.

A little “f” friend opens a conversation with a full news bulletin on their life.
A capital “F” Friend says, “What’s new with you?”

A little “f” friend thinks the problems you whine about are recent.
A capital “F” Friend says, “You’ve been whining about the same thing for 14 years. Get off your duff and do something about it.”

A little “f” friend has never seen you cry.
A capital “F” Friend has shoulders soggy from your tears.

A little “f” friend knows almost nothing about your family.
A capital “F” Friend knows the medical history, dietary habits and marital troubles of everyone on your tree.

A little “f” friend calls you at 10 p.m. just to chat.
A capital “F” Friend knows you hate to be called after 9 p.m.

A little “f” friend wonders about your romantic history.
A capital “F” Friend could blackmail you with it.

A little “f” friend when visiting, they act like a guest.
A capital “F” Friend when visiting, they open your refrigerator, put they’re feet on the sofa, talk back to your spouse and reprimand your children.

A little “f” friend thinks the friendship is over when you argue.
A capital “F” Friend knows that a friendship’s not a friendship until you’ve had a fight.

The Bible on Friends

A friend speaks face-to-face. (Exo 33:11)
A close friend can be described as one “who is as your own soul.” (Deut 13:6)
A friend is expected to be loyal. (2 Sam 16:17)
A friend is expected to be loyal. (2 Chr 20:7)
Withholding kindness from a friend is as forsaking the fear of the Lord. (Job 6:14)
Bargaining over your friend is a bad thing. (Job 6:27)
Grieving for a friend is like lamenting one’s mother. (Psa 35:14)
A close friend is trusted, one who you eat bread with. (Psa 41:9)
A friend loves at all times. (Prov 17:17)
A friend sticks closer than a brother. (Prov 18:24)
Faithful are the wounds of a friend. (Prov 27:6)
A friend gives earnest counsel. (Prov 27:9)
A friend is not to be forsaken. (Prov 27:10)
A friend is the opposite of an enemy. (James 4:4)