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Snapshots in Salvation

12 Apr


On a shuttered stretch of road, even the Pik-N-Pay has dimmed its lights for the night. School buses wait coralled like cattle, sleeping standing up.

But Lighthouse Baptist Church keeps sentry. Blinking red and bright, its marquee  testifies in all caps.


I’m tempted to lift a hand off the steering wheel to give a witness, say Amen. Preach on.

But the sign has more to say.

“April 16, 6:30 p.m.”

Good book says no man knows the hour. Lighthouse Baptist Church apparently begs to differ.

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Three Things That Will Not End Well

16 Mar

First, from our trip to the Natural Bridges Wildlife Ranch yesterday.

1. Teasing a bird big enough to peck off your head.


In this picture, my daughter is screaming “Tina, come eat your ham, you fat lard!”

“Tina” was not amused.



2. Posing without your pants on with Dora the Explorer and Barney the Dinosaur.

I am not even going to comment on how Barney is posed. Really, Reille? This is “rehabbing your image?” Pants on the ground, pants on the ground. Looking like a fool with your pants on the ground.

3. Letting Drunk Interns Pick the Clip Art for Your Press Releases.

Florida Family Policy Council sent out a news release last week protesting a judge’s decision to approve a lesbian couple’s adoption. Which merits no mention because it’s what they do. But they included a picture of the couple in question.

Only it wasn’t the couple in question. The image used on the Florida Family Policy Council Council story is on the left. The real couple is on the right.

You can read the rest of the story here:

Here’s what I want to say about that. I love Jesus a whole bunch. I am sure the people at Florida Family Policy Council would say they do, too. So, let me tell you something IN LOVE.

Jesus doesn’t need this kind of ridiculous hate-fueling, truth-twisting crap to accomplish his work. He can change lives and hearts and minds without you resorting to this kind of poisonous distortion. If you really think God is sovereign, why fall back on desperate scare tactics?

OK, that’s all.

Dear Girl in the Pew in Front of Me

12 Jan

First,  good to see you at church. Peace be with you even though we’re not Catholic, and thanks for complimenting me on my singing during the “meet your neighbor” time. You seem like a lovely person, and I am not just saying that because I’m about to get into a touchy subject.

(You know, how in the great state of Texas, we say “bless her heart,” to dampen the vicious blow that’s about to come next? “Bless her heart, the only thing more wiggly than her thighs is that grated carrot and Jell-o salad she thinks we want to see at the potluck.” This is not like that, you really did seem lovely.)

It’s about your outfit, honey. I am all for Sunday casual.  Heavens, our minister wears flip-flops.  I believe God created cleavage on the 6th day, and said it was good. I know that all the kids are wearing those low-rise jeans, and I applaud that. Conservation of natural resources and all. The 4-inch zipper takes up less of our non-renewable metal resources. Good for you! Go Green!

But here’s the thing. When you lean over to bow your head in prayer, the whole row behind you can see your random Chinese tattoo and about 3 inches of your ass crack. And this is not conducive to holy thoughts. It’s conducive to my 11-year-old saying “what do you think her tattoo says?” And my 9-year-old saying “I see her butt!” And my inner monologue saying “WTF!”

Which does not stand for “wholly thankful fellowship.”

I’m not suggesting a burka. Jesus loves you no matter what you wear.  But maybe a longer shirt? Maybe a sweater tied around your waist? Maybe even, and this is a radical thought, a different pair of pants?


Aware of All Your Blessings Now

 And now, a bonus haiku just for you-know-who-you-are.

 I judged not your low-rise jeans
Then, you bowed in prayer
Oh! Holy ass-crack, Batman!

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