A One Year Anniversary and a Plea

Dear Readers,

The one year anniversary of my blog coincides with May. Why am I saying this now instead of at the actual event? I am doing so for the following reasons.

1st, this is my 40th post. I considered writing many posts to make it my 50th, but, perhaps not. Maybe that will come around in time to help celebrate the actual anniversary, but I doubt it.

The 2nd, and real reason is this: My blog needs help. Renovations, updates, modernization, renewal. In celebration of this prestigious anniversary, this blog will be going under construction throughout the entire month of May; sooner if it happens sooner, but no later than the 31st of May it will be back up and running!

So, why am I telling you this? Other than being courteous to my readers, I want you to help! I would love your input on how to make this blog site easier to read and easier to use for you. So, please comment with your suggestions! It would be greatly appreciated. I'm aiming to make this the most convenient, easy-to-use, fun, and informative blog out there, but I can't do it without you. (Hey, have I made my point or what!)

Here are a few things I'm already considering adding or changing. You can vote on them. Just comment! And if I don't have something you think would be good, just say so!

1: A page dedicated to Prayer. If I do it, it would include my thoughts on prayer. It would also include people, things, cities, and countries to pray for, and more. I would also gladly take prayer requests.

2: Branch out on my current themes. Here's a question: Do you prefer my style of having set themes to talk about, with an occasional random post thrown in, or would you prefer completely random posts with occasional organization thrown in? Or maybe just more of the one, and less of the other, or vice verse'?

If I stuck with the themes, here are some examples of what I might consider branching out on.

A) Other cities and provinces outside of the U.S. Or at least other countries.
B) Scientific facts or archeology. Perhaps I might have guest authors do some of these considering the fact that science is not exactly my subject. However, I do occasionally run across some things I enjoy, and I do like archeology.
C)Book Reviews. This ought to be self explanatory.

3: A page with a running book-list. I've received many requests from people for good books to read. I could put the possible book reviews series on this page instead of the main page.

4: A page with stories I've written/am/will write. Not that I have too many, but you never know. (And yes, this is bolded and a different color because I added it later. I want you to see it, right?)

So, here are a few more questions for you.

1st: What are your favorite posts? Why?
2nd: What is your favorite series? Why?
3rd: What type of posts and series would you like to see more of? Why?
4th: What type of posts and series would you like to see less of? Why?
5th: Are there special features you've seen elsewhere that would make this blog more convienent? What are they?
6th: What would make you read this blog more often?

7th: What would you like the About Me section to look like? And would it be nice if I managed to get a recent picture of myself? instead of one from nearly five years ago?

8th: What would make you recommend this blog to others? And anyway what's stopping you from recommending this blog to others whether I make changes or not? =)

Here are some things to keep in mind. I will not be compromising the general atmosphere of simplicity. I like it. =) So please keep your recommendations within those perimeters.

Also, I will try to post regularly, despite the construction. Just don't pay any attention to the odd things you may or may not see, unless I ask you to of course.
In a nutshell then, please...
Comment with your input.
Share this blog with others. This blog is on probation, still.
Once it's been revised, comment again with your revised input!

Thanks!
Sincerely Yours,
Source of Joy

Christ's Death and Resurrection

So, maybe it's a little cliche to blog about Jesus' death and resurrection around Resurrection Sunday. After all, just about every blog I've viewed this week is talking about it. But then again, it needs to be talked about sometime right? Which is really the only problem with the whole thing. The death and resurrection is the Gospel and we should not be talking about it sometime, but rather all the time. Not that I am anywhere near being perfect here. No way. In fact, it's been my frequent prayer that God would show me at least some of the deeper significance of these two events because I have this unreasonable idea that I don't know enough about it in order to accurately and adequately describe it to some one else.

Now, I know that's probably pretty silly, and you know that it is silly. After all, I understand enough to get saved myself right? Right! So...that ought to be enough to share it with some one else right? Wrong. At least, for me it's wrong. I'm not really sure how to explain this odd idea, so I don't think I'll try. Suffice it to say that God is at the very least removing, slowly, all vestiges of this errant philosophy in direct answer to my aforesaid prayer. Am I making sense here? I don't think so. Alas, my currently fizzled brains do not have the energy to make it any clearer. Bear with them please. I know somehow you will all muddle through.

But really, God has been showing me bit by bit some of the deeper personal significance of the cross and resurrection.

For instance, a few weeks ago, I was staring out the kitchen window....Ahem, washing the dishes I mean, when a random thought triggered by who-knows-what crossed my mind. I remembered something I'd heard from my parents quite often as a child. The basic idea was that whenever I was sick or in pain, my parents would say something like: "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. You know, if I could I'd have...(fill in the blank) gotten that ear infection instead of you." Or else it might be something like: "I really want to spare you from this pain if I possibly could." Now of course, it's really not physically possible for our parents, in most cases, to spare us from say, a cold. Once I've got the germs, I've got them, and my parents can't really do anything about it except give me a cough drop and hope I get better soon. But it's the thought that counts right? Right!

However, as these remembrances filled my then-un-fizzled brain. (Yes, I am suffering from a cold right now!), I also thought this: My parents can't exactly always spare me from pain and suffering, but there is Someone who can! "For God so loved the world that He sent His only begotten Son that whosoever believeth on Him should have Everlasting life." Guess what!? Our sin is painful. Our sin causes us suffering. And that's nothing compared to the pain and suffering of our well-deserved punishment. But guess what else!?!? Our God is a wonderful Parent who not only desires to spare us from pain and suffering, but is also One who is in a position to do so! Wow. That's awesome! So, "even while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." In doing so, He gave us the option to accept His substitution. The substitution He made to spare us from pain and suffering.

But wait! There's more!

While reading Matthew 27 last night. I came across two interesting, little noticed verses. In one of them was one key word: "After." It's so easy to miss, but it can't possibly be a word that was merely translated differently in one version. It's in every single English version on BibleGateway.com. Matthew 27:50-53 reads: "Jesus, when he had cried again with a loud voice, yielded up the ghost. (died) And, behold, the veil of the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom; and the earth did quake, and the rocks rent; And the graves were opened; and many bodies of the saints which slept arose, And came out of the graves AFTER his resurrection, and went into the holy city, (Jerusalem) and appeared unto many."

I included verses 50 and 51 for context. As far as I can tell, the context for verse 52, when the graves were opened, is verse 50. The graves were opened when Jesus died. Scripture says Jesus was in the grave for three days. And THEN, the resurrected saints came out of the graves. Those people were alive three days before they came out. The only conclusion I can see from this is a powerful confirmation that Jesus' death, while powerful, was not complete. Jesus not only had to die, but He also had to conquer death itself. And He did! Hallelujah! He is Risen!Happy Resurrection Sunday!

Snippets of: Metz, Michigan

Metz is an itsy-bitsy little town on the North part of the Southern Michigan Peninsula. I discovered Metz while researching for my previous post about Michigan. As I mentioned in that post, I was impressed with the culture of character that the Michiganders seemed to have. The story of Metz is a clear-cut picture of that character. They are, or were, a people who care about other people by their actions even more than by their words. Unfortunately, heroes only seem to be heroes when there is disaster, tragedy, or trouble. On the morning October 15, 1908 a fire broke out near Metz. No one knows what began it, and no one really thought much about it at the time. Those living in Michigan were used to seeing smoke. Local farmers and logging companies set fires to clear brush almost daily. Perhaps they ought to have paid attention though. Historically, it seemed to be a month of fires in the entire region. On October 8th, 1871 a huge fire had erupted in Wisconsin, their neighboring state on the left. It had destroyed 2.5 million acres. On the same date was the Great Chicago Fire. Since then, few efforts had been made to restrict fires. The conditions in October 1908 were prime for fires with steady winds and hot weather. In 1908, the town of Metz had only been a town for 30 years. The population of the entire county was only about six hundred, mostly of German and Polish ancestry. One family, the Hardies, had a small farm. Railroad tracks crossed one corner of the farm. The Hardies had 8 children ranging from ages 16 to 11 months. Henry Hardie was 10 in 1908. At school that day, Henry noticed the fire. The smoke, which had earlier been a normal amount, was now rising up in huge billowing columns. Henry described them as 'great big pillars.' The steady winds drove the smoke in closer. By noon, the smoke covered the entire town, although the actual fire was still miles away. Still, no one really paid attention. It was just the wind blowing the smoke from a brush fire. Then, about an hour later, a sudden sense of gloom seemed to grasp the parents and they rushed to school to collect their children. By two, all the children had been released. At about the same time, the station master called Detroit to send an evacuee train to the rescue. What no one knew at the time was that a wall of fire literally surrounded the town. Families returned home to collect their possessions and then they went to the train station to wait. The Hardie family put their family heirlooms in a trunk and buried it on the property. When the train arrived, departure was delayed as the forty to fifty families loaded up. Most families rode in an open-top steel car. It was thought that the steel would resist the fire. One car contained hemlock bark. As the train left, they could begin to see the fire. It spread on both sides of the track. It became very dark. Only a mile out of town, the train was confronted by what is called a 'crown fire.' A crown fire is a fire that is in the tops of the trees. The train engineer had no choice but to drive straight through. As they went through the fire, its sparks set flame to everything flammable in the refugees possessions. For a quarter of a mile, hair and clothing was continually catching fire. Only a few seconds later, the train went through another fire. The car containing the load of hemlock bark was flooded in flames. Two refugees, the Nowickis, had asked to be let off at their homes further down the track. As the train began to slow however, it was seen to be an impossibility. Farther ahead, more trouble waited. The smoke hid the problem from sight. Incredible heat had warped the train tracks. Newspapers called the fire 'the hottest fire and densest smoke ever seen by mortals.' When the train hit the warped part, it went off the tracks. In panic, most jumped off the train. Henry, his father, and his brothers did too, but they became separated. Mrs. Hardie and the four daughters stayed on until Mr. Hardie had a chance to check on conditions. Two of the daughters however, bailed out by holding on to the coattails of a man about to jump down. Henry, his brother, and his cousin, grabbed a blanket and threw it over their heads to help them breathe. On the ground, Mr. Hardie found his two daughters. Mr. Hardie determined to return to the train to help his wife. He first placed his daughters in an open field covered in burning tree stumps. They were found by the Zimmerman family. When Mr. Hardie returned to the train car, a burst of flame rendered him temporarily blinded. The heat of the steel car made the task impossible. Meanwhile, the three boys with the blanket ran through thirty feet of flame, using the blanket as a shield, until they broke through to the field where they found their sisters and other refugees. Later, in the ashes, Mr. Hardie found one thing. His wife's wedding ring. He told his boys something that Henry never forgot: 'Now we have no Mama, and no sisters.' Mr. Hardie later married another survivor of the disaster. The Zimmerman family survived for one reason. John Zimmerman refused to place his family on the rescue train. Instead they stayed home. After attempting to save the house by soaking it in water, Mr. Zimmerman wrapped wet quilts around his children and sent them to an open, newly plowed field. They also buried cans of food and loaves of bread. The horses and cows were removed to the field. Then, Mr. Zimmerman remained at the house and continued to try to keep the house from catching fire. When at last it was useless, he started towards the field. He almost didn't make it. The smoke and flames had been too much and he stumbled and fell. His children dragged him the rest of the way. The Zimmermans built a small shelter in their field. They were able to help the refugees from the train, including the Hardies. Each family helped someone else. The other refugees and donors from around the country pooled together and gave one new mother a baby carriage, clothing, and blankets. The town of Metz was completely destroyed. Only the schoolhouse remained standing. In nearby Bolton, only the church was left. The Metz fire directly influenced law makers to restrict fires in Michigan. About fifteen people died on the train. Most were very young children. About twenty others died in other areas of the fire. In spite of the fact, the people of Metz returned. Today Metz itself has about 300 people living there. The Hardies, reunited, rebuilt their house and farm. They also dug up their family heirlooms. The trunk stayed in the family for generations as a double reminder of the tragedy, and the pioneering strength of the Hardies and other families who returned, in spite of it all. So, maybe not everyone survived, and maybe some heroics were thwarted, I'd still say that those people were heroes, not because they saved lives, but rather because they helped each other in the face of their own need, and because they didn't let it get them down. I'd say that it's not the buildings that make a town, but rather the people who live there. (This has been, Snippets of Metz. Look in next time to read: Stories of My Life:__)

A Day in the Life of: Dave Dravecky

I try to intersperse my mini-bios with people from the past and people from the present. Although Dave Dravecky's moment of fame was in the past, he still lives, so I'm counting him as from the present. Older baseball fans might even remember him. I came to admire Mr. Dravecky after reading his book, Comeback. I've never been a big sports fan. I enjoy some sports such as volleyball, Frisbee, basketball, and I'm beginning to like soccor. But I'm not a serious player and I'm not a fan-atic; you know, one of those people who idolize the sports figures. I just like to play, hope I do a good job, and have fun. If I'm watching a game, I like to watch, have fun, and not-too-seriously hope that the Mariners or the Sea Hawks win; or whatever team my friends are on. (Not that I've ever watched the Sea Hawks play. Wait. I did. I watched the final play of a supposedly famous game last year on TV. (No clue why it was famous.) It was very exciting. They hunched over in the middle of the field, some sort of a whistle thing blew. The commentator said something about their being enough time for one more play. The players dispersed and huddled up around their coach guy things, and then they went and hunched over in the middle of the field again, and then there was a little running (no sign of the football) and then the game was over ! whoo-hoo! Sea Hawks win!) Of the major games, baseball is my favorite because at the very least I understand a bit of how it's played. But, I've never played myself; only watched others. So, that ought to explain why I don't necessarily admire Dave Dravecky as a great baseball player, (although he was a good one) but rather as a person who is living, and has lived a rich Christian life. I admire his obedience to God, his courage and strength to overcome more than his screaming pitches and fast balls. (Actually, Dravecky was a control pitcher. He really didn't throw fast balls. He was better-known for throwing the ball exactly where he wanted it.) Dave Dravecky's dream was to make it to the big leagues. In spite of that, almost everyone thought that he was only good enough for the minor leagues. They told him he wouldn't make it. It only inspired him to try harder. The Padres called him up from the minor leagues in 1982. Actually, let me back up a little. Two major things happened while Dave was in the minor leagues. First, the Pirates offered to send Dave to play in Colombia. (the country, not the district.) He went with his wife Janice and experienced exactly the opposite of what he was expecting. He expected tropical beaches and exotic Latin sights, instead, they experienced misery in the shape of sickness, (due to bad food and water), guys with automatic guns on all the corners, and extreme poverty. For both his wife and himself, the experience changed their perspectives in two different ways. For his wife, who had been brought up to believe that God was just a kind old grandfather figure who watched over the world, the trip destroyed that image. She couldn't understand that 'a good God would allow bad things like poverty to happen.' She drew away from God temporarily. In the end, it turned out that she needed that image destroyed in order to make way for the correct image. For Dave, a Catholic who believed himself to be saved, the trip made him begin to rethink things. It made him realize, or at least become open to, the possibility that he needed God. He began to draw closer to God. The second thing that happened while Dave was in the minor leagues was that he, and his wife, became saved. A year or so after the trip to Columbia, (Dave actually took two trips, the second without his wife. So we're talking shortly after Dave came back from his equally bad second trip) the Pirates sent Dave to Texas. There, Dave's roommate was a devout Christian. After watching his roommate 'like a hawk,' Dave decided that he wanted to make a commitment for Christ. His wife came to Texas a few weeks later. They made the commitment together a few months later. In light of later events, both realized that their salvation was the important thing, not the limelights. Dave was traded by the Padres to the Giants, where he spent the rest of his baseball career. Dave was a good pitcher and he loved the game. What I like about his story, is how God reached thousands of people through him in an unlikely, unprecedented way. Dave noticed the lump in his pitching arm late in 1987. He thought nothing of it. It wasn't for another year that it made its presence really known. Laid up with a sore arm for a few days, he happened to mention the lump to his fitness rehab manager guy. The man recommended that it get looked at by a doctor, so that's what Dave did. In 1988, Dave heard the word 'tumor' for the first time. It was found to be malignant, but not a particularly life-threatening type right then. In the end, the doctors took out fifty percent of Dave's deltoid muscle. (Whatever that is.) In essence, they took away 95 percent of the muscle's ability to function. Dave was told several things. First, he would never be able to pitch again, he might not even be able to throw anything again. Second, he was told he probably would not be able to lift his arm over his head for a very long time or take his wallet out of his back pocket. Third, because of the way the surgery was done, the bone would be very brittle and likely to break for a while. (Because it was a relatively new procedure, the doctors were unsure as to how long the bone would be brittle. Their estimate turned out to be wrong.) Dave was able to both lift his arm over his head and remove his wallet in a matter of weeks. Doctors told his wife, 'short of a miracle, Dave will never pitch again.' The day Dave was able to remove his wallet from his pocket Dave was also able to demonstrate his pitching motion. I like this quote from the book that Dave told his doctor: "If I never play again, Doc, I'll know that God has someplace else he wants me. But I'll tell you something else. I believe in a God who can do miracles. If you remove half my deltoid muscle, that doesn't mean I'll never pitch again. If you remove all of my muscle, it doesn't mean I'll never pitch again. If God wants me to pitch, I'll be out there." Dave was able to pitch again. Not only that, he was able to pitch in the major leagues. It was a game to be remembered in baseball history. It was a time when fans came, not to see a game, but to see the guy in it who was living proof that you can overcome tough things. As the day approached, new dimensions were added. A pledge challenge was begun for 6-year-old Alex Vlahos. Alex was a cancer patient who needed a bone marrow transplant. Dave had become friends with Alex. As the big game approached, fans pledged x amount of dollars per pitch. Alex was able to get his treatment. (The challenge was not begun by Dave, but Dave fully supported it.) Dave pitched one of his best games ever. And then another dimension was added. Because of his amazing, miraculous comeback, Dave had the incredible opportunity to share his faith to the millions on TV via the reporters. Dave said "that doesn't happen often." On his next game, yet another dimension happened. Through it, God reached more people. Dave's arm broke exactly like the doctors had warned might happen. When Dave made his comeback, he was able to tell reporters that God had made it possible. When Dave broke his arm, he was able to tell reporters that the big picture was not what had just happened, but rather that it had begun with his salvation in Texas. In Dave's words, he couldn't just tell these people that the God who had just worked a miracle, was now doing an un-miracle. It was merely a new step towards reaching more people with the message that the God who can do such miracles is the God who gave Dave his God-glorifying perspective on the perceived un-miracle. (whew, that was a long sentence. Go ahead, read it a couple more times!) Really, that's what I like about his book, Comeback. It shows the big picture. I like the word vicissitude. It means 'the ups and downs of life.' In reality, as Dave saw it, each up and each down are a small part of life that set the stage for the next part. Particularly, each down sets the stage for the even bigger up. It's a good perspective to have. Dave hoped to make a second comeback. However, his cancer returned shortly after the breakage. The rest of the muscle and part of the triceps were removed. While the particular cancer was not an immediate killer, it was a type which is the most likely to return no matter what. Dave now has a ministry of speaking; of telling his story to those around. His cancer returned several times and his arm, parts of his collarbone, and his shoulder blade were amputated as the cancer began to take on a more life-threatening aspect. Dave operates his ministry from Colorado and speaks about both his famous story, and the less famous story of what it has meant to to grow in the Lord through his story. He has also written several more books including: When you can't Comeback, and The Worth of a Man. Unfortunately, I have yet to read these. Comeback however, I definitely recommend. (This has been: A Day in the Life of: Dave Dravecky. Look in next time to read: Snippets of:__)

My Thoughts on April Fool's Day

I can just hear you all gasping in the background. "Oh no! She's departed from her normal pattern! What shall we do!?" Let's just say that sometimes it's good to break out somewhere new. I enjoy reading and hearing about April Fool's Day pranks. Like the time Burger King advertised burgers with everything rotated 90 degrees to the left~for left-handed people. Or the time when the Prime Minister of New Zealand announced that cell-phones were banned. And we mustn't forget the time that the leaning tower of Pisa fell over. And my personal favorite-the one that happened to my mom-one of her friends crookedly taped her window with masking tape and left a note saying 'Sorry I broke your window. Will be back later to replace.' The window was not broken. In spite of enjoying all these however, there has always lingered doubt in the back of my mind. It has kept me from playing one myself. Here's my question: Does April Fool's Day promote good, or bad? I have been forced to admit that it is nothing good. All AFD jokes that I have ever heard of find their basis in deceit and lying. Playing pranks that are specifically intended to fool somebody into believing an un-truth makes the victim look like a fool. And, since most of the time, the pranks are just foolish anyway, it really makes the prankster look like a fool as well. The day is well-named. The really sad thing is that such a day is so widely spread that even prime-ministers and respectable companies and people condone and join in this promotion of deceit; even Christians. Someday, if I ever think of a prank that isn't any of these, you might find me playing it. But until then, don't expect it. In my opinion, it's just plain foolish. Here's a little history beginning with something that is just as sad as that other sad thing I mentioned. You see, the first recorded association with April 1st and foolishness is as early as 1392, in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. Here's something that's not quite so sad. In fact, it's a little funny. The Royal Airforce, (U.K.) was founded on April 1st, 1918. And yes, the U.K. does celebrate April Fool's Day on that day.