Friday, April 19, 2019

Mid-course corrections are not just for moon shots

I didn't attend a Maundy Thursday service last night. I wanted to. I wanted to take the communion elements with other Christians. But a man was coming around six to determine how much pine straw we would need for the islands in our yard and how much it would cost and I had to wait for him. Also, the church we have been attending since I stopped playing for the Methodists does not offer a Maundy Thursday service.

I will not be attending Good Friday services today. I wanted to. But Mrs. RWP has an appointment at three to get her hair done and I am now the only driver in the house since she decided not to renew her driver's license a couple of years ago. And our church does not offer Good Friday services either.

Something my mother used to say flits across the back of my mind: "The road to hell," she would say, "is paved with good intentions."

When I was young the schools were closed on both Good Friday and Easter Monday, and I spent three hours on Good Fridays, from noon to 3 p.m., at our church in Mansfield, Texas, listening to music, meditating, hearing seven short devotional talks on the seven last words of Christ.

"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they are doing"

"Today you will be with me in paradise"

"Behold your son...behold your mother"

"My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"

"I thirst"

"It is finished"

"Father, into your hands I commend my spirit"

Someday I hope to hear God say, “Well done, good and faithful servant; enter into the joy of the Lord.” But we also can find the words “wicked and slothful servant” in the New Testament. I don’t want to hear those.

Sloth just might be the other side of the coin called good intentions. You remember sloth. It’s one of the seven deadly sins.

In the meantime, the aforementioned road, the one that leads to you know where, goes on forever.

Thursday, April 11, 2019

"Chronic stress and uncertainty during childhood makes stress more difficult to deal with as an adult. "

Ya think?

Nothing is ever quite that simple.

The sentence in the title was written by Christian H. Cooper and is from an article that is way above my pay grade for the most part but fascinating nevertheless. Entitled "Why Poverty Is Like A Disease", it was first published on Nautilus in 2017 and was recommended by Pocket on my New Tab page when I signed onto my computer with Mozilla this morning. I have linked to it for your convenience.

I recommend it too. You may be tempted to give up but I hope you don't. I hope you make it through the whole thing. If I waded through it, so can you. Your comments, as always, are welcome.

Monday, April 8, 2019

A momentous occasion! A new record for the rhymeswithplague household!

That's right! Hear ye! Hear ye!

Hodie Christus natus est and all his friends were finally packed up and put away for another year.

Wait, I'm not telling the actual truth. It was not hodie (today), it was yesterday, April 7th. I know, I know, it's unheard of but it simply couldn't be helped, because, well, er, uh, I have no excuse.

Hello, my name is Bob and I'm a procrastinator.

One year we didn't bid the holy family adieu until March 16th, the day before St. Patrick's Day. One year it happened on George Washington's birthday (Feb. 22nd) and I blogged about it and my procrastinating tendencies here.

But this year takes the all-time cake. April 7th. Hard to believe, but true. Not only are St. Patrick's Day and even April Fools Day long gone, the March Madness that is the National Collegiate Athletic Association's annual basketball tournament ends tonight. The Sweet Sixteen, Elite Eight, and Final Four are all memories. The championship game will be played in Minneapolis tonight between somebody other than Duke and somebody other than Georgia Tech, therefore I don't really care who they are.

In other news, Starshine Twinkletoes has published a post about her camellia bush and her new chandelier, and when I happened to mention Crystal Shanda Lear, the daughter of the founder of the Learjet Corporation, she laughed in my face with a "You're pulling my leg! Hahahahaha! Nicely done, mind." It cut me to the quick, and it really hurts to go through life with a cut quick.

For those who still doubt, here's incontrovertible proof.

P as in Predicament, B as in Barbiturate, O as in Ophthalmologist

Somewhere in the back of my mind I think we may have talked about this before, long ago perhaps, but we're going to talk about it again....