My friend Jen is getting married today!

If you don’t know Jen, spend some time on her blog. She is a delightful person. Jen was, if I remember correctly, the first person in the blogosphere to notice The Thinklings back when we were in our nonage. She’s been a great friend of the site since then.

Those who follow Jen’s blog have seen the wonderful blossoming of the romance between her and “Beau”, which culminates in their wedding this evening.

Congratulations, Beau and Jen!

A confession: this morning, Christmas Eve, dawned, and our family had still not gotten our Christmas tree. We traditionally trek to a local Christmas tree farm every year in early December to pick our tree. But with work on the Christmas musical two weeks ago and the cold, wet and sickly weekend we had last week we hadn’t gotten around to it.

This morning dawned bright and clear. In hope that was perhaps a bit too naive we drove to the Christmas tree farm.

Closed . . .

We drove to another.

Closed . . .

So, we drove to Kroger and we saw this: the last Christmas tree left. Bent, shaggy and abandoned it stood crookedly on its base.

The tree

Blake liked it, we were desperate, so we went ahead and got it. Below is a brief visual history of this event:

Blake likes it

It’s a gem!

Whoa! And that included the stand!

When I went to the checkout counter to say that we wanted the tree, I got a nice, long blank stare from the checkout girl. She was also totally impressed when I wanted to take a picture.

Dang, I’m looking good . . .

Loading!

Andrew, Bethany and Molly are thrilled.

“Great tree, dad!”

All kidding aside, it was a fun event, and one we’ll remember.

And it reminded me that God often speaks to me through the most comical or mundane of circumstances. This tree was the last one picked at this very well-trafficked Kroger. In the eyes of the Kroger management it wasn’t really worth anything (remember, the stand it was on was part of the $9.99 price).

But we wanted it. We needed it; our house needed a tree for Christmas. We brought this little tree home, and I carefully re-cut its bottom trunk and trimmed its wayward branches. We brought it inside, mounted it, put on some Christmas music, and began decorating it.

It turned out, actually, to be a pretty good looking tree.

Done!

Lord, you spoke to me through this! Because this tree is me. Last night (well, really, in the deep hours of this morning) as I was driving home from the Thinklings Moot I was overwhelmed with thankfulness for all you have done. You’ve redeemed my life, blessed me beyond blessing, and restored the years the locust ate.

I am this tree. I was discarded and unwanted. But you chose me; not for my beauty, not because I had any grace or nobility on my own.

God chooses us. He brings us home, and he fills us with his light, and decorates us with the ornamental beauty of his holy fruit, his gems, his crowns. He gives us a place of honor in his house: he calls us sons and daughters.

The world doesn’t get this. It looks on with a blank stare of incomprehension. Because God’s grace is incomprehensible.

For consider your calling, brothers:

not many of you were wise according to worldly standards,

not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth.

But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise;

God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong;

God chose what is low and despised in the world,

even things that are not,

to bring to nothing

things that are . . .

1 Corinthians 1:26-28 (ESV)

Maybe that’s why God came to us in a package that was poor, obscure, and seemingly insignificant. We didn’t recognize him, and had no room in the inn for our precious Savior.

But he has room in his home for us. Jesus, precious Lord, our new born King. Thank you!

Merry Christmas!

I’m off tonight to Moot with my Thinklings bros!

More information and perhaps pictures will be forthcoming soon. We might even do some liveblogging of the event. We’ll see.

“No man is a failure who has friends.”

– Clarence Oddbody, AS2

Tonight we got our iMac G5 back. The power supply repair was covered under warranty.

It’s nice to have it back.

Our iMac G5, which we’ve had just under a year, died tonight. If you turn it on, it runs for a few minutes and then, poof, it croaks.

I’m pretty sure it’s just the power supply.

We’ll find out tomorrow when we take it to the Apple store. I *think* it’s covered under the one year limited warranty.

Not complaining, just reporting 🙂

Well this day’s been crazy but everything’s happened on schedule

From the rain and the cold to the drink that I spilled on my shirt

‘Cause You knew how You’d save me before I fell dead in the garden

And You knew this day long before You made me out of dirt

– Caedmon’s Call, Table For Two

I used a lyric from this song in an earlier post. I love well-turned phrases.

And I’m having one of those days . . .

My friend Jared is without a doubt one of the coolest and most intriguing people I’ve ever met. And today is his birthday; he turns the big 3-0 today!

The first time I saw Jared was when he was a junior in high school. Jill and I were walking into the atrium of our current church for the very first time. We had moved to H-town from San Antonio and had left a wonderful church there where we had worked in the youth group. So I had my eyes peeled for the students at this new church, as I had a hankerin’ to get involved (it actually took me two years to finally get involved but that’s another (long) story). Anyway, I saw this kid holding court in a throng of students. I could tell he was a leader. For some reason I always remembered that, and this was months before I actually met him.

Two years later we became friends on a long van-ride back from camp in Colorado, and it’s been a friendship that has blessed me and changed me more than I can express. To be honest, I think Jared’s influence is why I blog. You see, a few years passed and Jared moved to Nashville and he invited me to begin conversing with other young guys of like mind – the Thinklings – over email. That experience expanded my horizons greatly.

And out of all that, a blog was birthed, and the rest is history.

Jared posts on his birthday today, and included in the post is a list of the things he can’t do anymore (from Esquire’s Things a Man Should Never Do Past 30)

Coin my own nickname.

Use a wallet fastened with Velcro.

Rank my friends in order of best, second best, and so on.

Ask a policeman, “You ever shoot anybody with that thing?”

Tap on the glass.

Shout out a response to “Are you ready to rock?”

Name pets after Middle Earth characters.

Jokingly flash gang signs while posing for wedding photos.

Give “shout-outs.”

See any movie with elves, mutants, wookies, or other non-human characters on opening night.*

Wear Disney-themed neckties.

Air drum.**

Eat Oreo cookies in stages.

Call “shotgun” before getting in a car.

Dispute someone else’s call of shotgun.

Have any furniture that involves cinder blocks

Say “two points” every time I throw something in the trash.

Say goodbye to anyone by tapping my chest and even so much as whispering “Peace out.”

Life just got a whole lot less fun.

* That’s b.s.

** Drat!

One thing I’m sure Jared will do now that he’s past 30 is get his novel published.

Happy birthday, Bro. I love you.

This blows my mind.

Krakow, Poland, now has a rabbi. For the first time in 60 years.

I became familiar with Krakow through reading Schinlder’s List, the excellent and heartbreaking novel by Thomas Keneally. It was a hard book to read; the Holocaust is a dreadful demonstration of the depths of cruelty to which we all as fallen human beings can sink. The Jewish population of Krakow was obliterated by the Nazis in the late 30s and 40s.

But still it amazes me that Krakow is just now getting a full-time rabbi.

The organization reported that of the 1,000 Krakow residents who are Jewish, only 200 are members of the Jewish community. Since the fall of Communism in 1989, people in the city have begun to uncover their Jewish roots.

The city is filled with “hidden children,” Jews adopted by Catholic families during WWII who have only recently began to reconnect to their Jewish roots.

“In a place where the Germans sought to erase all traces of Judaism, and nearly succeeded, it is gratifying to see that Jewish life still endures,” said Shavei Israel Chairman Michael Freund.

“Many of Poland’s ‘hidden Jews’ are seeking to reconnect with the Jewish people, and we must do what we can to help them return. Six decades after the Holocaust, the best revenge is to rebuild Jewish life and to bring as many of these people back as possible,” he said.

[Hat tip: NRO’s Corner]

I’ve been away – my family and I evacuated to San Antonio in advance of Rita. We’ll be heading back today.

It turns out that our area of Houston was, thankfully, spared from any major damage.

If you’d like to read about our evacuation experience, you can read it here on Thinklings.

Sorry for the light posting lately. Been very busy. I’m at a conference today and on break at the moment.

Bloo v 0.17 is coming soon.

I was also thinking the other day that I need to get back to this:

“Well, the ancients only counted the nine muses, all of them females,” Piper got out of his chair and stood, adopting a professorial tone. Daniel rolled his eyes. “They are the children of Zeus and Mnemosyne, the goddess of memory. There is Calliope, the muse of epic poetry -.”

“Since when did you become an expert in Greek mythology?” Daniel interrupted.

“I know much about many things, young pup. Don’t interrupt.” Piper continued: “Euterpe is the muse of music, Erato brings us love poetry,” at this Piper winked at Daniel, “and, um, there are a few other muses whose names I can’t remember at the moment.”

“Speaking of love poetry,” Daniel said, “how’s your new love interest doing? What was her name? Chloe?”

Piper shook his head, eyes lidded and head inclined toward Daniel; a philosopher correcting a wayward pupil. “She who we shall not name has, shall we say, flown the coop.”

“No way.” Daniel glanced sidelong at Michael.

“So who’s the web muse?” Michael asked.

“The web muse has no name,” Piper said, “but she descends upon me often, and through me weaves a symphony of Internet e-wonder. Ergo my throng of delighted customers.” Piper bowed his head, holding his hands up to quiet the unheard applause.

Daniel was unimpressed. “So, who’s the muse of bull-”

At that Toni stuck her head in the door. “Daniel, are you almost done in there? I need to talk over some things with you. I’ve got some ideas.”

“Yeah, be right there.”

Toni threw a hard look toward Piper and left the doorway.

Piper smiled at Daniel. “Your muse is calling. I believe she will inspire you to greatness.”

“Call me Melpomene, Mr. Lyper.” Toni’s voice echoed from down the hall. Piper flinched.

“Man, she’s got good ears,” whispered Michael.

“I’m coming,” Daniel called after her, and turned to walk out of the room. When he reached the door, he turned back toward Piper. “Who’s Melpomene?”

“She’s one of the muses.”

“The muse of what?”

“Tragedy.”

My novel – working title Twenty Three Notes. This is an excerpt from one of the last bits I wrote (from chapter six) and there I’ve been stalled for quite some time. This part is a tad “salty” but (I hope) all to good purpose.

Toni remains in the hallway, and Michael, Daniel and Piper look at each other quizzically while I fiddle. Maybe I’ll get back to it soon. I have no illusions about publication. Just finishing. And in some way communicating redemption.

Be back soon.