Category: Random

This is what my friends did last Saturday.

They went with friends, kids, and a husband to my mother's assisted living center and played with play doh.

They went, even though they had stuff they needed to get done on Saturday.

They went, even though play doh with the eighty year-olds is not really a swinging singles event.

They went, because I am half a world away from my mother and can't spend my Saturdays with her.

And, they're going back in a month to do it again, this time with a craft.

Kim (edit: although I typed Kim, I meant Sue.   Sue, you are absolutely awesome.  Blame fried hot brain.) and Kelly, you are absolutely the best.

(My Mom is sitting in the far corner, next to the awesome woman in the eggplant shirt.)

My friend Kelly's family is collecting used shoes to send to Africa to be resold to vendors to resell to shoe wearers.  It's raising money for an orphanage or some other really worthy cause that slips my mind right now.  There are plenty here.  I like the used shoe idea.  Since they're not made locally, bringing them in from outside to sell isn't messing up anyone's small business (unlike sending used clothing, which hurts my friends who are seamstresses.)

Saturday night I went to a great concert.  Lots of loud music with deep lyrics.  Loved it. 

What cracked me up, though, was my reactions to the stuff the musicians did on stage.  One guy liked to climb on things-drum kits, speakers, sound thingys.  The first time he did it, I was like, that can't be good for that drum!  I'll bet the drummer is not happy.  Why doesn't he hit him with one of those sticks? 

Did I mention that I was there after a full day and three hours of sleep the night before?

But I really did feel like an old fogie.  Every time the guy swung his guitar I just cringed because I was afraid he was going to smash it against something.  Every time the guy swung his guitar and didn't smash it, the people in front of me were loudly disappointed that it was still in one piece. 

I'm glad they still let old farts like me in to hear good music.  : )

The crowd says:

Poverty is for losers, because they have nothing worth
offering.

Mourning is for losers, because they will be left out of the
in-crowd.

Kindness is for losers, because they will be shoved aside.

Being hungry and thirsty for righteousness is for losers, because
‘might is right’ and money makes the world go round.

Compassion is for losers, because only the fittest survive.

Integrity is for losers, because they will be taken for a
ride.

Peacemaking is for losers, because they will be caught in
the crossfire.

Being persecuted for doing right is for losers, because in
the end it’s all in vain.

When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on the side of a mountain and sat down. Jesus’ disciples gathered around him,and he taught them:

   God blesses those people who depend only on him.

   They belong to the kingdom of heaven!

   God blesses those people who grieve.

   They will find comfort!

   God blesses those people who are humble.

   The earth will belong to them!

   God blesses those people who want to obey him more than to eat or drink.

   They will be given what they want!

   God blesses those people who are merciful.

   They will be treated with mercy!

   God blesses those people whose hearts are pure.

   They will see him!

   God blesses those people who make peace.

   They will be called his children!

   God blesses those people who are treated badly for doing right.

   They belong to the kingdom of heaven.

God will bless you when people insult you, mistreat you, and tell all kinds of evil lies about you because of me. Be happy and excited! You will have a great reward in heaven. People did these same things to the prophets who lived long ago.

(HT: Fritz Goerling)

I have a collection of these cans stocked full of diesel, because sometimes it’s not available where I live in West Africa, like right now.  They are not cute.  They’re greasy, because I usually spill diesel down the can, unless I’m cleverly siphoning it.  They’re rusty, and my kittens liked to use them before they were litter trained.  These are not cute cans.  I don’t like to look at them, much less touch them, any more than I have to.

Imagine my surprise and delight when I found this tiny treasure
at my church garage sale.  A cute little ceramic jerrican, for only 25 cents!  A veritable tchotchke, as I like to call knicknacks, being a linguist who’s watched too many home decorating shows lately.

Yes, I am indeed going to use up some of my precious and ever shrinking luggage allowance to haul this thing back to Africa with me in a couple of months.  Such a deal!