Our Good God and random acts of kindness

We know that God gives us all that is necessary for life and Godliness, but do we realize everything good in our lives is a gift from God? I was thinking in particular of a special friendship that may not be necessary to my life, but is definately good, a good gift come down from the Father of lights. God is so much. He gives us life, takes care of us, gave His perfect son and offers us eternal life through Jesus; but He is also kind. If there is anyone who exemplifies "random acts of kindness", it is God. It was not at all necessary for my parents to take me to lunch and give me an article about Bigfoot . . . but it was good. It was a blessing. It was a gift from the Father above.

Engaging thoughts on a Rainy Morning

As Rufus and I were taking our morning walk, thoughts were brewing in my head like the rain brews in the clouds before falling to earth. Then, suddenly the rain that was brewing in the clouds began to fall on my head. So Rufus and I decided to run home and let the thoughts that have been brewing in my head fall on my blog so that you can read them.
My thoughts have been centered on engagement and all it entails. I believe saying, "I will" is as much of an important and serious vow as saying, "I do." Why wouldn't it be? Because your'e not saying it in front of friends and family? What about Ananias and Sapphira in Acts 5? No one besides the two of them, and God who knew their hearts, knew of their little scheme to tell a fib. However, their little plan, regardless of how few people knew about it, was so offensive to God that He killed them. Ananias hadn't even carried out his plan when he fell dead. In the eyes of God, planning to do something is equal to doing it. Saying, "I will" is as much of a vow as saying, "I do", and should be approached with the same amount of forethought and fear. Why fear? Because Solomon tells us in Ecclesiastes 5 that it is better not to make a vow before God--and all vows are before our all-seeing and all-knowing God--than to make a vow and fail to fulfill it.

Buffaloes!!!

Many moons ago, my family sailed to Catalina, and moored the boat in the isthmus, the remote part of the island. As we were walking back to the boat after a long day in town, I was running and playing as the adults walked slowly and calmly towards the dock. We were the only ones on the main dirt road that crosses from one side of the island to the other. I ran up to my dad and pointed out the bushes on the hill that I had never noticed in the daytime. My dad told me that those weren't bushes, they were buffalo. I socked him on the arm and told him to quit teasing me. He again said that they were buffalo on the hill, five feet away from us. As I was accusing him again of lying, one of the "bushes" stood up and made a noise. I've never been so scared of a "bush" in my life!

"Bloom where your'e planted."

I hate cute little clichés like that. However, I must admit that there does seem to be some truth in that particular cliché. I was watching a show I had recorded on our Tivo, a show about the Amazon jungle, and the many tribes that thrive there. These people were planted there, and they have bloomed. They sleep on hammocks they've sewn from plant fibers, in houses made from local trees with roofs made of the leaves of those trees. Most, if not all, of these people know more about medicinal herbs than I will ever know. As much as I like my carpeted house, and computer, and Tivo, I wonder if these tribesmen would run from them, choosing their rural, primitive lifestyle over mine. I wonder if they would marvel at my ignorance of surviving without a grocery store or my inability to run through the mud and over rocks with no shoes. I have been planted here, in my suburban home, and this is where I bloom. I like my books and my Tivo and a tiled and rain-proof roof over my head. I don't like the rain. My friends don't like rain, and flee from it even to the point of bodily harm. Yes, I know fellow suburbanites who will risk breaking a rib running from the rain rather than walk through the rain carefully and arrive safely at the front door. My point, I suppose, is that we are who we are. I will never know what it is like to live in the jungle and have to hunt my food. The people of the jungle tribes will never know what it is like to be able to simply buy their food. I really don't foresee having to worry about keeping snakes and other wild animals out of my house. They don't worry about getting stuck in traffic. We are who we are, and we can only imagine being someone else, and let other lifestyles fuel our imaginations, and try to learn from others.

Monkish Musings

A good friend loaned me Les Misérables by Victor Hugo. The book is roughly the size of a lung - a big lung. I started today, I don't know when I'll finish. The beginning chapters describe a monastery in France. It seems nice. It seems like a place I would like to go. It is tempting to run away from my problems and the burdens that bother me, but I know that I can't. That would be a great loss. Much of my character has been formed by the problems and burdens I've faced. All the crummy people I've known and circumstances I've been in have contributed greatly to my life, and have taught me valuable lessons.
I watched Kalifornia today. It is a good movie, with nice scenery. It is about two couples driving across the country. I find the contrast of the couples most interesting. I suppose the plot of the movie has something to do with one of the men being a serial killer, but I just enjoy the character developement and the scenery. The movie brought back memories of a short and awkward time in my life, a time when I learned some valuable life lessons - the sort of life lessons that make you a good friend and counselor, and contribute to your acquisition of wisdom.