I wonder if I really mean this

Sometimes I wish everyone knew my flaws. Then there'd be no fear. But we don't feel safe here amongst humans. At least I don't. In heaven I think we'll all know each other's earthly flaws. And it won't matter, because we'll all be so validated by each other and by Jesus. We'll be safe, because in heaven, we're not in a lifeboat anyway.

an axe is set against the root

Sometimes I want to pop my back. It's instant gratification. But it doesn't solve the root problem: muscles that are tense, vertebrates that are pulled by tense muscles, nerves that are pinched by vertebrates. Popping my back is so easy, but stretching loosens the muscles which releases the vertebrates which frees the nerves. So now, I choose to stretch. I choose yoga over popping. I choose good posture over cracking my back. Stretching takes longer, and sitting up straight takes more attention and determination (laziness is so easy), but it solves the problem.

Yes, that was a metaphor too.

I like how Thoreau said it: There are a thousand hacking at the branches of evil to one who is striking at the root.

bash: dump.

I got my blood tests back today. Drum roll please! BrrBrrBrrBumBumBUM

I have perfect blood. Well then, now that I'm not dying, it's about time to find something to do with my life.

Don Miller released a new book yesterday. It's reflections on growing up fatherless, but it's titled something about owning a dragon or somesuch. I'll be reading it, if only because it's also about men mentoring younger men, which is something that's important to me.

That stupid travel itch is coming back. I've been home... hardly a week and the itch is back. I like how everything is going here! Why would I leave? But it itches...

I saw the Constant Gardener again. I still like that movie. I like how it's a love story about people, rather than being a political docudrama with flat characters.

Does anyone else wonder if our children will be as critical of us as we are of our parents?

Jesus keeps popping stuff out of the scriptures at me, like potholes on a ten-speed.

I still don't get why he loves me so much even though I tend to be so fucked up -- even though I love him so much less than he loves me. More on that tomorrow. If in the past few days I've told you to remind me of something, you'd best do that, because I've forgotten. I only have the vague impression I've told people to remind me...

On that note, do remind me to tell you what I learned about Jesus and Peter's exchange at the end of John's gospel.

Oh, and remind me to tell you about the hitchhikers and the old man I met at a garage sale.

You're all lovable. Cheers.

the new red bmw

Well, here it is. Still no name though.
1988 BMW 325ix (30-70 awd).
168 hp
181 lbs torque
heated seats
sunroof
really bright high beams
pirelli tires
and this one Dodge Ram can keep up with it on the curves on 128 between Napa and Winters. Sad!

hydrogen and stupidity

Yesterday on 167 a woman broke her femur in a car accident. A man was charged for wreckless driving in the incident. The headline in the Journal reads, "Crash creates traffic nightmare."

Oh, sure, a woman broke her femur, but you should have SEEN that traffic.
Come on Journal, have a heart.

Finding our faces

Ah, the internet. Where else can you simultaneously discuss comic books, Google's impending collapse and your deepest hopes just by tabbing between chats? In person you can only have one face at a time. Online, you're basically one messy mood swing. You can console a friend who lost a grandparent, while cracking political jokes just one conversation away. Doesn't that seem rude? Can we concientiously express sympathy in one window and feel entirely flippant in the next? Do we confuse ourselves when we are deeply spiritual with one person while ranting about LA's traffic to another?

Can we be true to ourselves and wear these many faces at once?