gregariousintrovert

[gregariousintrovert]

"It's often assumed that scientists are intrinsically atheist, but science can be a spiritual experience. For some, it is about reading the mind of God."--- Bob Russell, theologian/physicist and founder of the Center for Theology and Natural Sciences

[gregariousintrovert]

We often have a strange relationship with food that doesn’t make sense.

“Here, eat these 6 cheese sticks.”

“Umm, no thanks. That’s a bit much for me.”

“OK, how about if I deep fry them and serve with a side of sauce for dipping?”

“Oh, well in that case I‘ll have those before I have my real food.”

[gregariousintrovert]

Today I took Zoe to Goddard Park, and explored the woods behind the pond. There she found some skunk cabbage and kicked it over to see how it smelled. We found a old bone from a deer, probably (“maybe a person, you never know”). A yellow golf ball half buried in the mud. An old bandana caught in the pricker bushes. Lots of abandoned junk (car tires? An old rusty washing machine?) which was at the same time fascinating and depressing. A child’s abandoned toy. We walked by the pond and saw some geese and a cluster of fur on the ground, probably from a rabbit. A dirty but unbroken glass bottle with an unusual shape. Picked up a couple of sticks and rocks, considered bringing them home, but ended up dropping them along the way. We looked for crayfish in the creek (no luck).

If the abandoned toy had been a creepy bald baby with no eyes, we had built a fort in the woods out of fallen tree branches, and come home to drink out of the garden hose instead of my Yeti water bottle— I would say that she had exactly relived my summer of 1981.

[gregariousintrovert]

How many eggs I can eat in one sitting.

Raw: eww, none

Hard boiled: idk, 2 or 3

Scrambled: 4 or maybe 5 if I'm really hungry

Deviled:

[gregariousintrovert]

Just wondering about all those times my kids asked me to take them to McDonalds and I told them we couldn't go because they were getting painted. How often did they believe me? Have I given them unrealistic expectations on how often you should paint things?

I can almost hear the conversation now:

My son: “Sorry I can’t make it up for Christmas break. Me and my girlfriend are painting the apartment.”

Me: “Didn’t you just paint it over Labor Day weekend?”

Cameron: “Yeah, I know I’m behind…works been crazy.”

Me: “What makes you think you have to paint again alr——“

Son: “Sorry, what was that?”

Me: …

Me: …..

Me: “So are you doing flat or eggshell?”

[gregariousintrovert]

The invention of the doorbell.

"Hey, whatcha got there?"

"Ooh, look it's really cool. It's a button you put on the outside of your house. A person can press it to let everyone in the house know that someone is at the door. Neat, huh?"

"Do you have a baby?"

"No."

"Do you own a dog?"

"Umm...no. Why do you ask."

"No reason."

[gregariousintrovert]

[gregariousintrovert]

Playing Guess Who with Zoe (6yo):

Her: “If I guess brown eyes, then I can turn over half. But if I guess glasses I MIGHT be able to turn over 15! But maybe only 5. It’s risky.”

Me:

[gregariousintrovert]

My story matters. Your story matters. The GLORY is in the STORY! What God has done for you, to you, and through you is the proof of His love for you. If a crime was committed and several eyewitnesses came forth to share what they saw and heard, surely the truth would be evident. The more witnesses, the more reliable the conclusion.

Many doubt the truth of Gods love for us. They say there is no proof. But what of the eyewitness testimony of millions (billions?) of believers over thousands of years? If millions of eyewitnesses came to court to testify, all telling the same story, only a fool would deny it was the truth.

But the eyewitness must show up. The testimony must be heard, or else it is not part of the court record. Our testimony reveals the truth, the truth reveals the glory.

THE GLORY IS IN THE STORY!

Love Wins.

[gregariousintrovert]

One day Steve was driving down the road, perfectly content with his journey so far, content with the progress he had made and eagerly anticipating reaching his destination.

Then disaster struck. He hit a pothole or a fox ran out in front of him or another driver cut him off or he fell asleep at the wheel (doesn’t really matter how, back to our story…). But he ended up running off the road into the shallow ditch by the side of the road. When the dust settled he realized that he was not seriously hurt ( a few bumps and bruises that he was sure would heal, one cut on his face that would surely leave a scar but not too bad.)

The man cursed the road department for not fixing the pothole. He cursed the fox, the other driver, himself (whatever the reason was, again, it’s not really important). He spent a lot of time being angry, upset, and depressed over his situation. But eventually he calmed down and decided it was time to get back on the road.

But much to his dismay, he found that in the time he spent cursing his bad luck and poor decision making, his car had sunk down into the mud just a little bit. He tried to “ gun it”, but the wheels just spun and dug in deeper. It became obvious that he was not going to get out of the ditch on his own.

Fortunately, the road was not completely deserted, and other motorists came by. The first stopped and asked if he needed help. The man was proud, and said “ I’m good, thanks, I’ll figure it out”. So the other motorist left.

Another motorist drove by, but didn’t even see the stranded man because his sales report was over due and his daughter needed braces and he was on the phone with his insurance company trying to resolve a billing error.

Another motorist drove by, but assumed the stranded man was there by choice. He did not appear to be in distress.

Another drove by, but she was afraid to stop because she didn’t know him, and it might not be safe.

Another stopped and offered their assistance, but did not have any tow cables. “ You should get some tow cables so you don’t get stuck again.” They said this hopefully and with confidence, as if it really was a useful suggestion. (It was not).

The stranded man came to the conclusion that he couldn’t get free by himself and that no one could help him, even if they were inclined to try. So he resolved himself to stay there and live in the ditch. He gave up on the idea of ever leaving. He made himself as comfortable as possible and scrounged for whatever scraps of food and water any passerby discarded. (It really was amazing how much gets discarded, in this land of plenty, he thought). And though he was miserable in a lot of ways, he eventually made peace with his lot in life and accepted his role as The Ditch Guy.

But then one day, another motorist stopped. This time, she asked his name, and what happened. The Ditch Guy was hesitant at first, he didn’t think his story was all that interesting or important, in fact in some ways it was downright embarrassing, but he decided to tell her anyway because she seemed nice. She listened patiently and without judgement, even when he went on tangents about how the government is somehow responsible for how many foxes are on the roads these days.

When he finished his story, he realized that he didn’t want to be The Ditch Guy any more. He wanted to be the man he used to be. But he didn’t know how. He didn’t even know how to ask for help. But his new friend said to him softly “I have a friend with a tow truck. He helped pull me out of this exact same ditch once. I know lots of other people he has helped too. I’m sure he can help you”.

The Ditch Guy was scared. Could he afford the services of this tow truck operator? Would it be a debt he could never repay? Even if he could re-enter the world that had passed him by, what guarantee did he have that he wouldn’t wind up in the ditch again? Maybe he just deserved to stay in the ditch.

But his new friend challenged him. “You we’re not made to live in a ditch. Please, come with me. I will walk with you for a while. Let me tell you my story.” And she did, and Ditch Guy realized that their stories, though not identical, were very similar.

So he trusted his new friend, and she introduced him to the tow truck operator, who turned out to be nothing like what he thought a tow truck operator would look or act like, but that’s neither here nor there. And he got back on the road. And he stopped calling himself Ditch Guy and instead called himself Steve, the name his father had given him, and that he finally felt worthy to use again.

And one day, he was driving down the road and saw a car stuck in a ditch…