January 9, 2010

Kopp Disclosure
(John 3:19-21)

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The first video is a classic!
However, it contains some bad words.
Kathie and I talked about this;
deciding only people who
are pure and perfect
in every way will
be offended.
Yeah, right.
As if...

So if you're posing, skip it.

But if you'd like to go deeper
into today's metaphors...

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It was a long day.

I had one more thing to do - teach a miserably attended class with some of the dearest saints to ever cross my path.

The memorial service transported me to the deepest recesses of my spirit; though I was offended by people who did not come to pay respects and it evoked some anger toward those who skipped the recent visitations and services for...and didn't even write consoling notes.

A survivor said, "She/he used to waltz around the church like a snotty better than you but didn't even bother to..."

Geez.

Common courtesies sacrificed at the altar of selfishness/narcissism.

I'm right; sadly.

If I die today, there will be ham and salad in fellowship hall in three days or less and then a pastor search committee will be elected/formed/appointed in a month or less for a successor who will meet needs that I could never satisfy/pacify.

I went to the hospital to see two friends.

I went to renew my license; but forgot to drop the MC classification for those who want to control my life or, at minimum, expect me to acquiesce to their need for me to wear a helmet because that's what pastors do.

Acquiesce.

Sacrifice identity at the altar of selfishness/narcissism.

I went to give blood.

I don't like to give blood - the needle feels like a #2 pencil being pushed into an orange - but they say people need it and I haven't really done that much painful sacrificing for God or country or...

They almost didn't take it because it's thick like me.

Actually, one of the nurses hit on me.

Kidding.

Uh, not really.

Shocked?

Don't be.

Kissinger attracts lots of chicks.

You don't have to be Tiger to...

I went to the gas station and charged gas, twinkies, twizzlers, and a can of regular Coke.

Kidding.

I don't eat twinkies or drink regular Coke...or use credit cards.

I turned on the computer and went to a really neat porn site.

Kidding.

I didn't turn on the computer...and I don't go to...for the inauthentic does not turn...

Got a call: "Thanks for today's service. I hope you never lose your enthusiasm for life and Jesus and..."

Needed that.

It was a long day.

Not kidding.

Actually, kidding.

I tried to be depressed; but I just can't get there.

Despite the evil-speaking and back-stabbing of people who can't have their way with me...

P__ a little.

Depressed?

Nah.

Sorry.

Don't need those pills either.

Stop.

Review.

Poop.

The preceding looks like an Emo Phillips' script.

Or an Alan Ginsburg poem.

You pick.

I did.

What did William Wallace scream while gutted?

Maybe I'm having a nervous breakdown.

Dang, beat ya to the punch.

So what is normal?

Why would anyone want to be normal in a Revelation 3:1-6 kinda way?

Parenthood: "Some like merry-go-rounds...Some like roller-coasters..."

Maybe I'm a poet - one who everyone but Jesus wants to chain to Robin Williams' club at Hellton.

Maybe the only answer is Ratchet's cure for Jack who tried to fly over the...

Jesus said, "The truth will make you free."

So many definitions.

I prefer His.

Selah.

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Shrinks say fear motivates feelings that prompt actions.

I agree.

When I was committing adultery, I was always afraid of getting caught; so I became a real sneak.

When I was climbing the ecclesiastical ladder of success, I was always afraid of offending someone/stepping-stones; so I started agreeing with the last person that I talked to and my life/ministry became sentences ending in prepositions.

When I realized my addiction to plastic, I was always afraid somebody would see the imbalance and find another reason to disqualify/dehumanize/denigrate me; so I deceived...

When I...I was always...so I...

A spiral of...

Then I met Jesus...again...and again...and again...

He offered a fresh start and erased the chalkboard of my life.

Or as Phil demanded, "If you really believe in a forgiving God, then act like you've been forgiven."

I'm not completely over it.

I'm not as pure and perfect as...

I'm still tempted.

I still long.

I've got 30% left on an old plastic debt to settle.

I still fear people who are searching for an idol rather than Jesus.

I still fear people who want to steal my freedoms to feel better about their chains.

But as William says, "You can't fix what you won't face."

I've started.

No matter what she/he/they say about me or the grammar, I'm "more better" than "badder" these days.

I'm doing my best.

Really.

I am not responsible for what others say and do; but I am responsible for what I say and do and how I respond to what others say and do.

I'm free.

Kinda.

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Getting back to the memorial service, we often laughed with each other over a familiar truth: "Joining a church or even being an officer in a church makes you into a Christian about as much as going into McDonald's turns you into a Big Mac."

We were friends.

She knew me like Jesus knows me.

Messed up.

Looking up for help.

She never judged me.

She only wanted to save me.

She knew me like Jesus knows me.

When I saw her before her journey home to her beloved husband and Jesus, she smiled.

She liked my mule.

She liked the friend who was with me.

She liked what Jesus entrusted to me.

She knew me like Jesus knows me.

It's/He's enough.

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Blessings and Love!

If you're too busy to
click on that last
video, you're
too busy!!!