Sometimes you just don't get any breaks...!
Saturday, July 30, 2005
Two pics from the web...
Once again I've gotten a bit behind...
Just so no one worries, all is ok. As I've mentioned this has been a year of tremendous change...and as I navigate those waters, sometimes I can't get things posted as soon as I'd like to...
But here are some prayer requests, a few shots sent to me off the web, and a bunch of links you can't live without...
Back at ya tomorrow...or the next day.
Prayer Requests
For Stacy who had a biopsy on Thursday and who faces another week of sleepless nights...
For her husband Chris, who is putting off surgery until he finds out what care his wife will need...
For Mark, who is awaiting test results and further medical testing...
For Cathy, and for Keith...
Prayers for my mom who undergoes surgery on Tuesday...
Prayers of thanks- little Dawson seems to be doing better...
Links...Links...Links...
...Realistic talk about Iraq...
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/28/opinion/28herbert.html?th&emc=th
...Ex-gay camps continue to stir debate...
http://planetout.com/news/feature.html?sernum=1194%3chttp://planetout.com/news/feature.html?sernum=1194
...Another politician caught in same sex scandal...This one shoots himself in the lobby of a Miami Newspaper.
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/29/national/29miami.html?th&emc=th
...More US jobs sucked to be sucked away in latest trade deal...
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/29/politics/29cafta.html?th&emc=th
...Anti-gay hate crimes explode in Southern Baptist Country...
http://www.orlandosentinel.com/news/local/southwest/orl-locgayburning29072905jul29,0,7674858.story?coll=orl-news-headlines
...Midwest commentator reaches out to gay teens...
http://www.fortwayne.com/mld/newssentinel/news/editorial/12244505.htm
...Mayor West continues to slime his way through the appeals process...
http://www.spokesmanreview.com/jimwest/story.asp?ID=072905_appeal
Just so no one worries, all is ok. As I've mentioned this has been a year of tremendous change...and as I navigate those waters, sometimes I can't get things posted as soon as I'd like to...
But here are some prayer requests, a few shots sent to me off the web, and a bunch of links you can't live without...
Back at ya tomorrow...or the next day.
Prayer Requests
For Stacy who had a biopsy on Thursday and who faces another week of sleepless nights...
For her husband Chris, who is putting off surgery until he finds out what care his wife will need...
For Mark, who is awaiting test results and further medical testing...
For Cathy, and for Keith...
Prayers for my mom who undergoes surgery on Tuesday...
Prayers of thanks- little Dawson seems to be doing better...
Links...Links...Links...
...Realistic talk about Iraq...
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/28/opinion/28herbert.html?th&emc=th
...Ex-gay camps continue to stir debate...
http://planetout.com/news/feature.html?sernum=1194%3chttp://planetout.com/news/feature.html?sernum=1194
...Another politician caught in same sex scandal...This one shoots himself in the lobby of a Miami Newspaper.
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/29/national/29miami.html?th&emc=th
...More US jobs sucked to be sucked away in latest trade deal...
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/29/politics/29cafta.html?th&emc=th
...Anti-gay hate crimes explode in Southern Baptist Country...
http://www.orlandosentinel.com/news/local/southwest/orl-locgayburning29072905jul29,0,7674858.story?coll=orl-news-headlines
...Midwest commentator reaches out to gay teens...
http://www.fortwayne.com/mld/newssentinel/news/editorial/12244505.htm
...Mayor West continues to slime his way through the appeals process...
http://www.spokesmanreview.com/jimwest/story.asp?ID=072905_appeal
Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Finding my path to Dreamland...
I've been bonding with the couch lately.
For some reason, the fact I rarely sleep in a bed disturbs many people. Especially my parents. I don't know why this is. What does it matter where I sleep? Still my folks are always urging me to rest in a legit bed, whether I'm up at the ranch or over on the coast at their place.
Call my love of overstuffed cushions and tall, warm backsides, a latent fetal thing or some sort of dependency issue. Call it weak. Call it really childish, like needing a bottle or a binky -that's pacifier for those of you who haven't bonded with toddlers in the know lately.
I don't really know why I gave up my bed a couple years back. It just didn't feel right.
I've spent many years sleeping in the tight, bouncy confines of semi truck sleepers. I spent the better part of my first attempt at college, all four years of them, sleeping in a dorm. During my last round of college, I was working so many jobs while trying to finish my Bachelor's degree that I did a lot of sleeping in my truck.
For some reason, a big huge bed just seems exactly that-it's too big. Too huge. Too empty. Too much reinforcement of the vacancy sign that hangs ever present over the hearts of too many fellow travelers.
The couch, now that's right sized sleeping if there ever was such a thing. I lay down each night when my vision fails me, and I hear the night. I hear the softest caress of the ever present breezes through the towering Bull Pines. Even with my gaze all distorted, I stare up through the window, and I can see those tall trees standing sentinel over me. I know that whether or not the stars shine, the moon bends and cavorts between the evergreen branches or if flurries spit, that those trees are ever present. Bull Pines represent the refuge of strength.
I usually rest by pulling a Pendleton Wool Blanket tight around me. Even in winter, they provide abundant warmth, and coupled with the couch, the sleep is deep and perfect. In the midst of dream time, I often hear the low rumble of thunder off the Selkirk Crest, or hear the wind change pitch and the symphony of a downpour let loose on my metal roof. These are reassurances that nature remains present and accounted for, and that such interruptions are meant to complement, not disturb dream time.
Upon waking, I am usually looking straight into that deep blue western sky. Some mornings, as the dawn peaks through, the colors mirror Magenta and Purple and breathtaking. I see best in the morning, and as the coffee nudges me toward clarity, that first image can set the stage for whatever the day offers.
The couch, saddled right next to the window, is the closest thing to a view of heaven I can find. Although I often trade couches, and sometimes seek the floor, just as long as I am close to a window that's as close as I can come to predictability. Depending on the night, I may sleep on the river side or the mountain side of my cliff perched cabin. Or sometimes I just sneak out to my pick up truck and recline. Just so long as my face finds the big sky, I believe my dreams follow.
I guess in my mind, it matters not where you lay your head. But rather where your heart takes you when you close your eyes. With surroundings like these, it stands to reason that with a window such as mine opening to the world, the journey I travel whether in slumber or awake, can only be fine.
Which is fine by me.
Today's pictures are courtesy of Jeanette Hill and her recent fly fishing excursion in the refuge of the Olympic Range. Her pictures seemed the perfect accompaniment to dreamtime.
Prayers
For Russ, Stacy, Chris, Mark, Cathy, Keith, Dawson and Paul.
For all the troops, everywhere.
For the nomads of the world...the truckers, the pilots, the rodeo cowboys and anyone who still hasn't found home...
Links
...Lutherans tackle gay issues...
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/07/26/AR2005072601243.html
...Adult toy store changes name...
http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/lifestyle/234042_tf227.html
...A long hard slog...Maine revisits the issue of discrimination...
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/27/national/27maine.html?th&emc=th
...Le Tour de France sports strategy as applied to domestic policy
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/27/opinion/27friedman.html?th&emc=th
For some reason, the fact I rarely sleep in a bed disturbs many people. Especially my parents. I don't know why this is. What does it matter where I sleep? Still my folks are always urging me to rest in a legit bed, whether I'm up at the ranch or over on the coast at their place.
Call my love of overstuffed cushions and tall, warm backsides, a latent fetal thing or some sort of dependency issue. Call it weak. Call it really childish, like needing a bottle or a binky -that's pacifier for those of you who haven't bonded with toddlers in the know lately.
I don't really know why I gave up my bed a couple years back. It just didn't feel right.
I've spent many years sleeping in the tight, bouncy confines of semi truck sleepers. I spent the better part of my first attempt at college, all four years of them, sleeping in a dorm. During my last round of college, I was working so many jobs while trying to finish my Bachelor's degree that I did a lot of sleeping in my truck.
For some reason, a big huge bed just seems exactly that-it's too big. Too huge. Too empty. Too much reinforcement of the vacancy sign that hangs ever present over the hearts of too many fellow travelers.
The couch, now that's right sized sleeping if there ever was such a thing. I lay down each night when my vision fails me, and I hear the night. I hear the softest caress of the ever present breezes through the towering Bull Pines. Even with my gaze all distorted, I stare up through the window, and I can see those tall trees standing sentinel over me. I know that whether or not the stars shine, the moon bends and cavorts between the evergreen branches or if flurries spit, that those trees are ever present. Bull Pines represent the refuge of strength.
I usually rest by pulling a Pendleton Wool Blanket tight around me. Even in winter, they provide abundant warmth, and coupled with the couch, the sleep is deep and perfect. In the midst of dream time, I often hear the low rumble of thunder off the Selkirk Crest, or hear the wind change pitch and the symphony of a downpour let loose on my metal roof. These are reassurances that nature remains present and accounted for, and that such interruptions are meant to complement, not disturb dream time.
Upon waking, I am usually looking straight into that deep blue western sky. Some mornings, as the dawn peaks through, the colors mirror Magenta and Purple and breathtaking. I see best in the morning, and as the coffee nudges me toward clarity, that first image can set the stage for whatever the day offers.
The couch, saddled right next to the window, is the closest thing to a view of heaven I can find. Although I often trade couches, and sometimes seek the floor, just as long as I am close to a window that's as close as I can come to predictability. Depending on the night, I may sleep on the river side or the mountain side of my cliff perched cabin. Or sometimes I just sneak out to my pick up truck and recline. Just so long as my face finds the big sky, I believe my dreams follow.
I guess in my mind, it matters not where you lay your head. But rather where your heart takes you when you close your eyes. With surroundings like these, it stands to reason that with a window such as mine opening to the world, the journey I travel whether in slumber or awake, can only be fine.
Which is fine by me.
Today's pictures are courtesy of Jeanette Hill and her recent fly fishing excursion in the refuge of the Olympic Range. Her pictures seemed the perfect accompaniment to dreamtime.
Prayers
For Russ, Stacy, Chris, Mark, Cathy, Keith, Dawson and Paul.
For all the troops, everywhere.
For the nomads of the world...the truckers, the pilots, the rodeo cowboys and anyone who still hasn't found home...
Links
...Lutherans tackle gay issues...
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/07/26/AR2005072601243.html
...Adult toy store changes name...
http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/lifestyle/234042_tf227.html
...A long hard slog...Maine revisits the issue of discrimination...
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/27/national/27maine.html?th&emc=th
...Le Tour de France sports strategy as applied to domestic policy
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/27/opinion/27friedman.html?th&emc=th
Another take on the Moon...
Oklahoma cowboy and poet Randy Wallace sent this to me yesterday. He is a talented wordsmith in his own right and I've come to anticipate his posts in the ruralgay newsgroups on yahoo.com. As always he seems to vividly capture in rhyme time the rhythm of word, nature, and the human soul. That he would write this for me caught me completely off guard. Thanks Randy. You're the best.
Moon Beam On Me
Moon beam on me
Woke with a start
Moon beam on me
Help my wounded heart
Moon beam on me
Hear me as I pray
Moon beam on me
I'll tell you of my day
Moon beam on me
I laugh 'cause I am happy
Moon beam on me
I'm glad that you are with me
Moon beam on me
I stare at the your reflection
Moon beam on me
As you pull upon the ocean
Moon beam on me
My lovely star clad friend
Moon beam on me
Until nights end
Randy Wallace
Moon Beam On Me
Moon beam on me
Woke with a start
Moon beam on me
Help my wounded heart
Moon beam on me
Hear me as I pray
Moon beam on me
I'll tell you of my day
Moon beam on me
I laugh 'cause I am happy
Moon beam on me
I'm glad that you are with me
Moon beam on me
I stare at the your reflection
Moon beam on me
As you pull upon the ocean
Moon beam on me
My lovely star clad friend
Moon beam on me
Until nights end
Randy Wallace
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Moonwalking in July
Quote of the day...(In response to yesterday's blog)
"I can't imagine who would feel that God hands out problems for sin.....If that were the case everybody everywhere would be in big trouble. It can be almost impossible to see at times, but sometimes things happen simply because they do. And God doesn't get you out of it, He gets you through it." Frank in Missouri...
Last night I kept waiting for the moon to show her damn face. First I stood in the house. Then I took off out of the house, walking along the cliff. Stir crazy and restless, me and the moon, we got talking to do.
Seeing as how sleep's been allusive now for the better part of a year, it figures that tonight she'd be late. I can't help but stare down the Idaho ridgelines, the gem state's version of the Selkirk Range, wondering when she'll rise. Me and that just-passing-through lady of the sky, we've gotten close.
Some would say too close.
I know a psychic in Alberta, a wise woman, who from all accounts has lived more than a few lifetimes. Dianne always alerts me to the moon's arrival. She sees the moonrise first, stretching out over the remains of Saskatchewan. Dianne up there on the prairies, me down south of the border but on lookout from the high country, Dianne and I we've been sharing accounts of the moon for years-whether in detailed journals of moonbeams on snow, or moon under attack from the northern lights.
Oh and for the record, I think the moon...well, she's definitely a she. The moon is all gorgeous silky babe, and sometimes she-devil, depending on the night. Especially when she's full of herself, reflecting on everything. Her all glimmering, shimmering on the water. Demanding attention- like she's so special. Pouting hard when fan tail clouds distort her beauty. That moon goddess is always way too happy to light up the heavens, especially as the right marine layer rolls in, gliding over the desert from the coast.
Water stands guard for the moon, stuck as her spellbound, captive prisoner. Capturing her light, the water reminds me of a groupie, reflecting illumination back and then some. No matter whether the water is calm or roused, the rivers, lakes, bays and oceans multiply her light. Acting like reverse dance partners, the moon and her constant companion, still waters seemed joined. Wherever Moon leads, water follows. Always in step, their waltz is perfect. The water side of this equation never seeks the spotlight. Water seems resolved and accepting, acting humbly as the eternal back up chorus. Indeed water isn't allowed to absorb light. It's all about reflection.
I know I go off on this nature stuff way too much.
I'm not as objective as I should be. I'm way too fond of my river, bragging on her all the time. I can't help it. The Pend Oreille has always been my bridge over troubled waters. Ever since I was young and my grandparents hustled me along her shores and her tributarties, the Clark Fork, the Flathead, the Bull, and the Pack Rivers. Or there's Lake Pend Oreille or up toward Sullivan Lake and Sheep Creek-these waters that flow in and out of this area, they all become one in my mind.
My friends know all about my take on sleepless in Pend Oreille and my moon walks. They know about the pacing at 2 am eternal, agile and nervous, me staring out over the cliffs. Trying to settle in for the night but addicted and watching over the valley instead. I savor my moon time, just me and the full moon. She-demon'd up again while I'm helpless, reflecting back her light just like the river. Trance like, I trace the Coyotes call, sitting still and hearing their progress, echoing down across the broad flat river banks. They have their own social date with that ghosted silver sphere.
Sometimes the coyotes come up close, just beyond the light, talking back at the night sky. Yipping and yapping while I sit there sipping coffee. Coyotes drown everything else out in their shrill conversations. Yet sometimes in the hush, I hear the geese stir and the bullfrogs go at it. Soon enough the moon has had enough. Hushing them coyotes, the bulls frogs and the geese, the moon reclaims front and center, insisting that it's her damn stage. She won't tolerate talk back from the audience.
This particular cycle of the moon, I've been watching her journey. When she was all new moon, she teased and toyed with my anticipation. Going crescent, she'd hint and preen and then she'd tuck herself in, sliding over the hills toward Dalkena. Later, she got bold and started dirty dancing way up high, as if trying to get Mars to pay attention. I knew better though. Her dancing like that wasn't for Mars...
It was for me.
I can't help but think that the moon and I gotta stop meeting like this. The neighbors are gonna' talk. During that whole full moon business last week, I barely slept and I looked haggard. My adopted mom told me I looked like hell. Nope, I am just moonbeamed I thought, but I didn't dare say it. Adopted mom's might not understand or tolerate a guy like me getting too artsy or weird. My affair with the moon seemed best left a secret. Until now.
My friend Billy Bob was here visiting from Seattle several of those nights. We made camp fire and teased the moon back with our own brilliant fire ring, those sparks dancing up toward the big dipper as if they were fired up on Meth. Billy Bob fell under the moon's gaze and for a few nights he never turned in but stayed out until dawn. Blushed, flirting with the lingering twilight, he had words with the world while the moon kept track.
Staying awake like this, even when I'm exhausted, I feel alive. I recognize that all of this moon biz is just another take on the theme of endlessly just passing through- and as I gaze down on the river and the coyotes return to make a ruckus, I can still see her as she peaks over the summit of the Selkirks. Finally, once again she's back. But tonight the Moon's not nearly as full of herself.
Then again, neither am I. Sleep is calling, and the restless spirit of July shall soon turn to August. I can hardly wait.
Prayer Requests:
Prayers of Thanks- We finally heard from Chris in London yesterday. David writes that his medical procedure and tests came back fine.
Ongoing prayers...
For the lady in Montana who had an experimental procedure, shunts put in her brain to deal with a rare disorder that mimics Alzheimer's. She is doing far better, but still has a way to go.
For health requests please keep Mark, Cathy, Keith, Chris and Stacy in your prayers. For comfort during loss, please remember Richard, Janet, Josh and Paul.
LINKS!
...Sex with animals and the now infamous "horse" column is STILL the talk of Seattle...
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2002402181_brodeur26m.html
...Republican CIA Official lashes out at President Bush for CIA Leak...
http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/national/apwashington_story.asp?category=1153&slug=Democrats%20CIA%20Leak
...Doubts cast on existence of new HIV virus superstrain...
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,163614,00.html
...Priests can marry gay folk but can't indulge themselves...
http://www.365gay.com/newscon05/07/072505anglican.htm
...The White House gets tangled up in another distortion, this time centering on Supreme Court nominee judge Roberts...
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/26/opinion/26tue3.html?th&emc=th
...Two stories out of Africa...both quite chilling...
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/26/opinion/26kristof.html?th&emc=th
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/26/opinion/26tue2.html?th&emc=th
...Another example of the hypocrisy of "free markets" especially when applied to cowboys and tree huggers...
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/26/opinion/26tierney.html?th&emc=th
...Jerry Falwell promotes forced internment of gay young adults in "Ex Gay" camps...
http://www.southernvoice.com/thelatest/thelatest.cfm?blog_id=1745
...Mayor West Recall goes before Washington State Supreme Court on August 24...City attorney assigned to handle case, resigns.
http://www.spokesmanreview.com/jimwest/story.asp?ID=072505_recall
"I can't imagine who would feel that God hands out problems for sin.....If that were the case everybody everywhere would be in big trouble. It can be almost impossible to see at times, but sometimes things happen simply because they do. And God doesn't get you out of it, He gets you through it." Frank in Missouri...
Last night I kept waiting for the moon to show her damn face. First I stood in the house. Then I took off out of the house, walking along the cliff. Stir crazy and restless, me and the moon, we got talking to do.
Seeing as how sleep's been allusive now for the better part of a year, it figures that tonight she'd be late. I can't help but stare down the Idaho ridgelines, the gem state's version of the Selkirk Range, wondering when she'll rise. Me and that just-passing-through lady of the sky, we've gotten close.
Some would say too close.
I know a psychic in Alberta, a wise woman, who from all accounts has lived more than a few lifetimes. Dianne always alerts me to the moon's arrival. She sees the moonrise first, stretching out over the remains of Saskatchewan. Dianne up there on the prairies, me down south of the border but on lookout from the high country, Dianne and I we've been sharing accounts of the moon for years-whether in detailed journals of moonbeams on snow, or moon under attack from the northern lights.
Oh and for the record, I think the moon...well, she's definitely a she. The moon is all gorgeous silky babe, and sometimes she-devil, depending on the night. Especially when she's full of herself, reflecting on everything. Her all glimmering, shimmering on the water. Demanding attention- like she's so special. Pouting hard when fan tail clouds distort her beauty. That moon goddess is always way too happy to light up the heavens, especially as the right marine layer rolls in, gliding over the desert from the coast.
Water stands guard for the moon, stuck as her spellbound, captive prisoner. Capturing her light, the water reminds me of a groupie, reflecting illumination back and then some. No matter whether the water is calm or roused, the rivers, lakes, bays and oceans multiply her light. Acting like reverse dance partners, the moon and her constant companion, still waters seemed joined. Wherever Moon leads, water follows. Always in step, their waltz is perfect. The water side of this equation never seeks the spotlight. Water seems resolved and accepting, acting humbly as the eternal back up chorus. Indeed water isn't allowed to absorb light. It's all about reflection.
I know I go off on this nature stuff way too much.
I'm not as objective as I should be. I'm way too fond of my river, bragging on her all the time. I can't help it. The Pend Oreille has always been my bridge over troubled waters. Ever since I was young and my grandparents hustled me along her shores and her tributarties, the Clark Fork, the Flathead, the Bull, and the Pack Rivers. Or there's Lake Pend Oreille or up toward Sullivan Lake and Sheep Creek-these waters that flow in and out of this area, they all become one in my mind.
My friends know all about my take on sleepless in Pend Oreille and my moon walks. They know about the pacing at 2 am eternal, agile and nervous, me staring out over the cliffs. Trying to settle in for the night but addicted and watching over the valley instead. I savor my moon time, just me and the full moon. She-demon'd up again while I'm helpless, reflecting back her light just like the river. Trance like, I trace the Coyotes call, sitting still and hearing their progress, echoing down across the broad flat river banks. They have their own social date with that ghosted silver sphere.
Sometimes the coyotes come up close, just beyond the light, talking back at the night sky. Yipping and yapping while I sit there sipping coffee. Coyotes drown everything else out in their shrill conversations. Yet sometimes in the hush, I hear the geese stir and the bullfrogs go at it. Soon enough the moon has had enough. Hushing them coyotes, the bulls frogs and the geese, the moon reclaims front and center, insisting that it's her damn stage. She won't tolerate talk back from the audience.
This particular cycle of the moon, I've been watching her journey. When she was all new moon, she teased and toyed with my anticipation. Going crescent, she'd hint and preen and then she'd tuck herself in, sliding over the hills toward Dalkena. Later, she got bold and started dirty dancing way up high, as if trying to get Mars to pay attention. I knew better though. Her dancing like that wasn't for Mars...
It was for me.
I can't help but think that the moon and I gotta stop meeting like this. The neighbors are gonna' talk. During that whole full moon business last week, I barely slept and I looked haggard. My adopted mom told me I looked like hell. Nope, I am just moonbeamed I thought, but I didn't dare say it. Adopted mom's might not understand or tolerate a guy like me getting too artsy or weird. My affair with the moon seemed best left a secret. Until now.
My friend Billy Bob was here visiting from Seattle several of those nights. We made camp fire and teased the moon back with our own brilliant fire ring, those sparks dancing up toward the big dipper as if they were fired up on Meth. Billy Bob fell under the moon's gaze and for a few nights he never turned in but stayed out until dawn. Blushed, flirting with the lingering twilight, he had words with the world while the moon kept track.
Staying awake like this, even when I'm exhausted, I feel alive. I recognize that all of this moon biz is just another take on the theme of endlessly just passing through- and as I gaze down on the river and the coyotes return to make a ruckus, I can still see her as she peaks over the summit of the Selkirks. Finally, once again she's back. But tonight the Moon's not nearly as full of herself.
Then again, neither am I. Sleep is calling, and the restless spirit of July shall soon turn to August. I can hardly wait.
Prayer Requests:
Prayers of Thanks- We finally heard from Chris in London yesterday. David writes that his medical procedure and tests came back fine.
Ongoing prayers...
For the lady in Montana who had an experimental procedure, shunts put in her brain to deal with a rare disorder that mimics Alzheimer's. She is doing far better, but still has a way to go.
For health requests please keep Mark, Cathy, Keith, Chris and Stacy in your prayers. For comfort during loss, please remember Richard, Janet, Josh and Paul.
LINKS!
...Sex with animals and the now infamous "horse" column is STILL the talk of Seattle...
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2002402181_brodeur26m.html
...Republican CIA Official lashes out at President Bush for CIA Leak...
http://seattlepi.nwsource.com/national/apwashington_story.asp?category=1153&slug=Democrats%20CIA%20Leak
...Doubts cast on existence of new HIV virus superstrain...
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,163614,00.html
...Priests can marry gay folk but can't indulge themselves...
http://www.365gay.com/newscon05/07/072505anglican.htm
...The White House gets tangled up in another distortion, this time centering on Supreme Court nominee judge Roberts...
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/26/opinion/26tue3.html?th&emc=th
...Two stories out of Africa...both quite chilling...
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/26/opinion/26kristof.html?th&emc=th
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/26/opinion/26tue2.html?th&emc=th
...Another example of the hypocrisy of "free markets" especially when applied to cowboys and tree huggers...
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/26/opinion/26tierney.html?th&emc=th
...Jerry Falwell promotes forced internment of gay young adults in "Ex Gay" camps...
http://www.southernvoice.com/thelatest/thelatest.cfm?blog_id=1745
...Mayor West Recall goes before Washington State Supreme Court on August 24...City attorney assigned to handle case, resigns.
http://www.spokesmanreview.com/jimwest/story.asp?ID=072505_recall
Monday, July 25, 2005
Thinking myself inside out and looking for the half full glass...
I'm Storming Heaven...All over again...
Yesterday seemed like one of those days where you just need to know that life is timeless, that forces much larger than you are in control. Yesterday seemed like a good day to see tangible proof that God is present, even He seems like He's in the distance. Yesterday was a continuation of the unsettled theme from the day before. After my roommate Paul's father, Spike, passed away unexpectedly, once again I'm reminded that you never really know where the day will take you. I'm more aware than ever that I seem to be in the midst of one of those years where you really can't take anything for granted.
Newlyweds Stacy and Chris were originally scheduled to come down from Colville to help me move a home gym from the ranch. But after a few seconds on the phone, and in listening to the fear in Stacy's voice it seemed that what needed relocating was not so much the home gym, but a mountain of concern, worry, and uncertainty. A healthy dose of distraction, perspective, and beauty might offer a respite from the gathering storm.
Today, Chris was to meet with a surgeon regarding the results of his colonoscopy. Stacy is to meet Tuesday with other specialists regarding the results of her CAT Scans. Yesterday both Chris and Stacy couldn't hide the anxiousness or the seriousness of their health concerns. Stacy told me that this past week has been especially difficult. Local doctors have no clue what is wrong with her. But the professionals did speculate that she might have a type of cancer that feeds on muscle cells.
Imagine living with the uncertainty of that kind of possible diagnosis for a week.
Already this afternoon the news coming back on Chris's meeting with surgeons is not good. He is looking at major surgery. The doctors want him to undergo the procedure immediately. Post surgery he is looking at substantial rehabilitation time. Stacy meets with her doctors again tomorrow. She is suffering a great deal of pain and her posture, her outlook and her usually optimistic faith, all reflect the seriousness of these challenges. How can two people, just wed and only in their mid 20's, struggle with so many health issues? I could really get sidetracked on the whole unfairness of life song and dance.
As many of you are aware, Stacy and Chris have been on our prayer chain now for weeks. Especially today, Stacy and Chris could really use an extra helping of your thoughts and prayers. At times like these it's really easy to come up with nice Hallmark expressions to address the unexplainable. Some folks might label all of this as drama. Others might wonder if this is some sort of divine payback for some unconfessed sin.
I call bullshit on all that.
Life happens. Currently our society has a difficult time with suffering, tragedy, and especially accepting our frailty. We change the subject or change the channel. We can get really busy on meaningless pursuits when suffering strikes too close to home. When reckoning with such moments, we hope our dance with fate passes quickly.
Oh and let's face the truth: It is way easier to look away or get distracted and go to the mall or watch our President parade around on aircraft carriers with really tight flight suits, than it is to talk about the really scary stuff. You know what I mean. The topics we have no answers for-The ones that make us uncomfortable or fidgety.
I guess that's why I keep going back to an ancient grove of Montana Cedars and why I spend time in the heart of that secret place. I'm still reassured by this very "Last Best Place" my grandparents originally introduced me to when I was but a kid.
In moments like this, it's good to know that this sacred place lives on.
No matter what is happening in our lives.
Prayer Requests:
For ongoing health issues, please keep David, Mark, Cathy, Keith, Dawson and Janet in your prayers.
For impending surgery please lift up my mom, and Chris.
For the unknown, please keep Stacy front and center.
Prayers for Paul and Toots. For Josh, and Richard...and for all who are dealing with the passing of someone very close to them...
And thanks to the big guy upstairs for creating such a beautiful place of reassurance.
Dispatches from near and far...
...The most important link of the day. An indictment of the state of the nation...
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/24/opinion/24rich.html?th&emc=th
...Need another reason to stay up at night?
http://www.worldnetdaily.com/news/printer-friendly.asp?ARTICLE_ID=45313
...A complete guide to Canadian Horse registries...
http://www.northernhorse.com/
...Oregon house remains silent on important issue...
http://www.oregonlive.com/editorials/oregonian/index.ssf?/base/
...A museum dedicated to, well, you know...Dicks.
http://archive.salon.com/sex/feature/2001/03/27/iceland/print.html
...Two important looks at the current status of the war on terror...
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/25/opinion/25herbert.html?th&emc=th
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/25/opinion/25duncan.html?th&emc=th
...A telling story pointing to Canadian supremacy and the continuing slide of American jobs...
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/25/opinion/25krugman.html?th&emc=th
...Bush sidetracks the nation's attention on the Rove Scandal by nominating a Supreme Court judge...but the questions surrounding his administration continue to grow...
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/24/politics/24bush.html?pagewanted=1&th&emc=th
A picture of Lance Armstrong you won't soon forget...
http://www.whoa.org/charities/BooksfortheBarrios/prints/LanceArmstrong1mr.jpg
s/LanceArmstrong1mr.jpg
Yesterday seemed like one of those days where you just need to know that life is timeless, that forces much larger than you are in control. Yesterday seemed like a good day to see tangible proof that God is present, even He seems like He's in the distance. Yesterday was a continuation of the unsettled theme from the day before. After my roommate Paul's father, Spike, passed away unexpectedly, once again I'm reminded that you never really know where the day will take you. I'm more aware than ever that I seem to be in the midst of one of those years where you really can't take anything for granted.
Newlyweds Stacy and Chris were originally scheduled to come down from Colville to help me move a home gym from the ranch. But after a few seconds on the phone, and in listening to the fear in Stacy's voice it seemed that what needed relocating was not so much the home gym, but a mountain of concern, worry, and uncertainty. A healthy dose of distraction, perspective, and beauty might offer a respite from the gathering storm.
Today, Chris was to meet with a surgeon regarding the results of his colonoscopy. Stacy is to meet Tuesday with other specialists regarding the results of her CAT Scans. Yesterday both Chris and Stacy couldn't hide the anxiousness or the seriousness of their health concerns. Stacy told me that this past week has been especially difficult. Local doctors have no clue what is wrong with her. But the professionals did speculate that she might have a type of cancer that feeds on muscle cells.
Imagine living with the uncertainty of that kind of possible diagnosis for a week.
Already this afternoon the news coming back on Chris's meeting with surgeons is not good. He is looking at major surgery. The doctors want him to undergo the procedure immediately. Post surgery he is looking at substantial rehabilitation time. Stacy meets with her doctors again tomorrow. She is suffering a great deal of pain and her posture, her outlook and her usually optimistic faith, all reflect the seriousness of these challenges. How can two people, just wed and only in their mid 20's, struggle with so many health issues? I could really get sidetracked on the whole unfairness of life song and dance.
As many of you are aware, Stacy and Chris have been on our prayer chain now for weeks. Especially today, Stacy and Chris could really use an extra helping of your thoughts and prayers. At times like these it's really easy to come up with nice Hallmark expressions to address the unexplainable. Some folks might label all of this as drama. Others might wonder if this is some sort of divine payback for some unconfessed sin.
I call bullshit on all that.
Life happens. Currently our society has a difficult time with suffering, tragedy, and especially accepting our frailty. We change the subject or change the channel. We can get really busy on meaningless pursuits when suffering strikes too close to home. When reckoning with such moments, we hope our dance with fate passes quickly.
Oh and let's face the truth: It is way easier to look away or get distracted and go to the mall or watch our President parade around on aircraft carriers with really tight flight suits, than it is to talk about the really scary stuff. You know what I mean. The topics we have no answers for-The ones that make us uncomfortable or fidgety.
I guess that's why I keep going back to an ancient grove of Montana Cedars and why I spend time in the heart of that secret place. I'm still reassured by this very "Last Best Place" my grandparents originally introduced me to when I was but a kid.
In moments like this, it's good to know that this sacred place lives on.
No matter what is happening in our lives.
Prayer Requests:
For ongoing health issues, please keep David, Mark, Cathy, Keith, Dawson and Janet in your prayers.
For impending surgery please lift up my mom, and Chris.
For the unknown, please keep Stacy front and center.
Prayers for Paul and Toots. For Josh, and Richard...and for all who are dealing with the passing of someone very close to them...
And thanks to the big guy upstairs for creating such a beautiful place of reassurance.
Dispatches from near and far...
...The most important link of the day. An indictment of the state of the nation...
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/24/opinion/24rich.html?th&emc=th
...Need another reason to stay up at night?
http://www.worldnetdaily.com/news/printer-friendly.asp?ARTICLE_ID=45313
...A complete guide to Canadian Horse registries...
http://www.northernhorse.com/
...Oregon house remains silent on important issue...
http://www.oregonlive.com/editorials/oregonian/index.ssf?/base/
...A museum dedicated to, well, you know...Dicks.
http://archive.salon.com/sex/feature/2001/03/27/iceland/print.html
...Two important looks at the current status of the war on terror...
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/25/opinion/25herbert.html?th&emc=th
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/25/opinion/25duncan.html?th&emc=th
...A telling story pointing to Canadian supremacy and the continuing slide of American jobs...
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/25/opinion/25krugman.html?th&emc=th
...Bush sidetracks the nation's attention on the Rove Scandal by nominating a Supreme Court judge...but the questions surrounding his administration continue to grow...
http://www.nytimes.com/2005/07/24/politics/24bush.html?pagewanted=1&th&emc=th
A picture of Lance Armstrong you won't soon forget...
http://www.whoa.org/charities/BooksfortheBarrios/prints/LanceArmstrong1mr.jpg
s/LanceArmstrong1mr.jpg
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