Here is an interesting news article about an unfortunate mistake made by scientists in Britain. My only questions is . . . What about the pearl?
Archive for October, 2007
I am the true grapevine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch of mine that doesn’t produce fruit, and he prunes the branches that do bear fruit so they will produce even more. You have already been pruned and purified by the message I have given you. Remain in me, and I will remain in you. For a branch cannot produce fruit if it is severed from the vine, and you cannot be fruitful unless you remain in me.
I’m in the process of writing my Greek paper over this passage. These words are really really good, a foundation on which to build.
This guy took it (living biblically) to a whole new level. A.J. Jacobs, an agnostic Jew decided to dive in to the Bible headfirst to try to figure out if he was missing something. He spent a whole year doing his very best to follow ALL the laws of the Bible, as he says, “right down to stoning adulterers.”, which he did one day in Central Park. Here’s the story of how it happened:
Thanks to those pesky U.S. laws - and my conscience - it was particularly difficult to abide by this Old Testament law. I did, however, manage to stone one adulterer. Here’s what happened: I was in Central Park. I was wearing my most biblical garb - sandals, a walking stic, white clothes - and an elderly man came up to me and asked me why I was dressed so “queer.” I explained I was following all the rules of the Bible, right down to stoning adulterers. He said, “I am an adulterer, you going to stone me?” I said, “Well, yes, that would be great.” And I took out of my pocket some pebbles that I was saving for just this occasion. (The Bible doesn’t specify the size of the stones.) The old man actually grabbed the pebbles out of my hand and threw them at me. So I figured I should toss one at him in self-defense. And in that way I stoned.
His description of what he learned and his newfound reverence for the Bible and it’s adherents is fascinating and challenging. Relevant Magazine featured his story in the November 07 issue (Issue 29). In it he talks about the rules that were hardest to follow (stoning adulterers, not shaving beard) and rules he never violated (don’t sacrifice your children to Molech, don’t take your wife’s sister as a second wife). Another section talks about the 5 rules that were most life-enhancing. He said that 1) Keep the Sabbath, 2) Give Thanks, 3) Let Your Garments Be Always White, 4) Don’t Gossip, 5) Do Not Curse changed his life in a profound way. His behavior, over a year, began to change his heart and mind.
You can see the book here. It might be worth checking out.
Sophia had her first ever professional portraits done last week. JCP hooked us up with a good deal. Here are some of my favorites. This kid is awesome.
Sophia apparently has some sort of virus. I spent 2 and half hours at the doctor’s office with her today. She got chest x-rays and blood drawn. Fun times.
Amanda is sick too. That leaves one man standing in the Bush family. One lone warrior to hold down the fort.
X sleep is short for no sleep. I’m so tired, I can’t even type the word ‘no’.
Oh yeah, today is our wedding anniversary! That’s pretty cool.
But, back to the no sleep thing. I realize how spoiled we have been. Sophia started sleeping through the night at two months. Now, because of teething and being a little sick, Sophia has had two sleepless nights. How do people do this for years!?!?
Anyway, it’s all good. Life is good. Jesus has given us so much. A little sleep is nothing compared to what some people are deprived of. But, I think I might try to take a nap today.
A group of ladies from a beauty salon came out last Friday night to give the girls haircuts and do their nails. It was awesome! It’s really encouraging to get to see people selflessly giving of their time and resources to show our girls love. They stayed until almost 10pm!
Sophia is about to get a mouth full of chompers. She already has her front teeth, but now she has bout 5 or six of the big guns coming in. That’s a good thing in the long run. She’ll be able to eat beef jerky and chew gum. But, for now, it means no sleep. Apparently it really hurts to have small pieces of bone push through larger pieces of bone and flesh.
At about midnight last night, I busted out the ole’ six string to help Sophia relax a bit and maybe fall asleep. That didn’t really work. We put on Bob the Builder. So she watched that for 30 minutes while we got a nap.
Finally, at 1:30am, I strapped her into the Camry and we started driving. It took about an hour to get her good and asleep. For some reason, while I drove around I became very hungry. And, I was under the impression that Krispy Kreme stayed open 24 hours. I thought my suspicions were confirmed when I pulled into the parking lot and saw that all the lights inside were on. So, I drove around to the drive through. I sat there for about 5 minutes before I saw that they actually had closed at 10pm.
I settled for a grilled stuft burrito.
Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.
We only get a few days a year like the one yesterday. It felt awesome! So, last night we forwent the Burchfield Brothers in favor of an evening at Maumelle Park around a bonfire. We roasted hot dogs and made smores and sang some songs to Jesus. Good times.
Sophia did a little chillaxin’ in her pack n’ play.
We made it out to the Big Dam Bridge today with Amanda’s parents and our two new girls. Sophia sported her pink shades.
People often ask me what it is that I do at the Promise House. Apparently, the term ‘housedad’ isn’t as self-explanatory as I would like to assume. I guess that is understandable because, truthfully, I usually have a difficult time fleshing it out myself. After a few seconds of half sentences I usually resort to “Well, I guess I am basically a dad.” And, in reality, that is the best way to put it: I am a dad.
Granted, I am not your typical, briefcase-carrying, off-to-work-every-morning, coffee-sipping, golf-playing dad (though, I do consider myself somewhat of a coffee connoisseur). I am no Mike Brady, not by a long shot. How many dads that you know have 9 pregnant teenage daughters?
But, nonetheless, I am a dad. And for the duration of each girl’s pregnancy at the Promise House, I am her dad. I make sure she gets up on time in the morning. I worry about her eating a good breakfast. I take her to school. I help her with her homework. I kill the occasional spider. I discipline, reward, confront, and encourage. I tell her goodnight. I am a dad.
And, whether they like it or not, the girls begins to depend on me. They look to me to be a constant in their life, and for a lot of the girls that come into our care, I am the most constant male figure they have ever had. Also, they begin to come to me for advice and counsel. One of the most meaningful things for me is being able to help them understand God’s love and plan for their lives, like the time Samera asked me how she could really know God.
All of the girls climbed into the van to ride to school, but two of them were just going along for the ride. They would not be attending school that day. One had not yet been enrolled and the other, Samera, had a doctor’s appointment. Samera was only a few weeks away from her due date and I had noticed that her countenance had changed.
Frankly, she had a lot to think about. Her mom was in jail and she barely knew her father. She had no real family to speak of. Samera wanted to look to the father of her unborn daughter for stability and a future, but the rumor was he already had another child on the way with someone else. That is a pretty bleak outlook for a seventeen-year-old who is just weeks away from having a baby.
“Mr. Ryan, how do I know that I know.” Samera asked as we drove back to the Promise House. A pretty vague question by any standard, but I knew what she meant. “How do you know that you know God?” I asked. “Yeah” she said. I hit the left turn signal. “We better stop for a donut.”
I knew this was an important conversation. Sarah had no one. So, when she asked me “How do I know that I know?” I knew that in her heart of hearts she was asking “How do I know God won’t leave me too?”
As we talked over sprinkled chocolate glazed donuts I started wondering, “How does someone who has never really been loved learn to be loved by God? What is my role, as her dad, in helping her to accept God’s love?” It seemed like a big job, too big for me at least. I was trained in CPR, First Aid, AED, Conflict Management, and Crisis Intervention, but how could I help this young lady understand that Jesus loves her for who she is? How could I show her that love doesn’t mean exploitation, degradation, and eventual abandonment? I never received training for that.
And then it hit me. “If I don’t help her to understand just how precious she is to Jesus, no one else will.” There was no one else. I was her dad. Apparently, it was God’s intention that I help her to understand. And there we sat, in a donut shop, talking about a personal relationship with God. I am sorry to say that I did nott have any profoundly eloquent statements to bring it all together for her. I simply told her about the unconditional, eternal love God had for her through Jesus. But, as I look back on it, I realize now that what I said to her did not speak half as loudly as the way in which I lived towards her.
I am a dad. And, the truth is, I have countless opportunities everyday to help my ‘daughters’ understand how God feels about them. And, I have realized that the only way for me to effectively demonstrate God’s love to them is to truly allow myself to be loved by him. Imagine that. To love, I have to let myself be loved. When I live a life that is fully submitted to Jesus, amazing things happen in my life and in the lives of those I come into contact with.
Jesus said he came for the humble, sick, and outcast. He came for the ‘least of these.’ Jesus put us right in the middle of ‘the least of these’ at the Promise House and told us to serve them.
Vatican TV director says yes . . . Have a look at this picture and decide for yourself.
Doyle just sent this good news:
A THANK YOU FROM DAVE HUGHEY:
Please thank the warriors for praying.
Audra’s doctor has cleared her to travel.
She is on some heavy antibiotics, but they are hopeful she
will be ok in a couple of days.”Dave
BLESS YOU FOR INTERCEDING!
Doyle
Toni Blackwell is asking that this message get to as many as folks as possible:
I JUST RECEIVED A CALL FROM DAVE HUGHEY REGARDING AUDRA HINSON. AUDRA IS ONE OF THE MAIN PEOPLE SCHEDULED TO LEAVE ON THE PERU MISSION TRIP TOMORROW. HOWEVER, SHE IS VERY ILL AND WILL BE GOING TO THE DOCTOR AT 1:40 P.M. TODAY. DAVE SAID TO PLEASE GET EVERYONE WE POSSIBLY CAN TO PRAY FOR HER NOW!!! PRAY THAT THE DOCTORS WILL FIND THE PROBLEM AND THAT SHE CAN GET OVER THIS QUICKLY. THEY DESPERATELY NEED HER ON THE TRIP.PLEASE PASS THE WORD TO EVERYONE YOU KNOW.
THANK YOU,
Doyle Moore
May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer.
Remember that bad days are for our good. God is looking for living sacrifices. He’s still in charge when we find ourselves in miserable situations — suffering, tempted, frustrated, or worse. He will keep us there as long as he sees fit because unless we truly learn to submit our hearts and minds to God’s will, we’ll never grow up to become fully devoted believers.
- Brother Lawrence, Practicing God’s Presence: Maxims.
I’m sorry to say that the kitten died. We’re not sure exactly what happened. I let it’s core temperature get to low, I think. And it seemed like something else might have been wrong as well. I think the bottom line is that it was taken from it’s mom way too early.
It’s kind of weird how you put a little time and energy into something and you get attached to it. We felt really really bad, but at the end of the day, it’s still just a cat.
Mr. J. Medeiros wrote a song called “I Am Constance” in response to this story below. The song and video became a jumping off point for the I Am Constance website where people all over the world share their stories and bear one another’s burdens. Check out the video. It automatically loads when you click the website link. For more on this issue you can also check out the International Justice Mission.
I am Constance and this is my story…
I was a typical 13-year old girl in my small and poor village. My life was filled with helping my mother and siblings, doing chores, and spending free time with my friends. Lucky to be in school, my time was also spent doing homework for the simple education I was getting.
One day, at the market, I noticed a man in elegant clothes talking to some friends of mine. I was curious; why was a man of such elegance in our little village, and why he was talking to my friends?
As I waited for the lady to give me my change, I became aware that I was staring at him. I was shocked when I realized that he was walking towards me. He introduced himself as a factory owner and he was looking for young women to work for him in the city. He mentioned that the women working for him loved what they were doing and made a lot of money doing it. I was very interested in what this man was saying. He ended his proposal by telling me that he was leaving in two days to begin training his factory recruits and if I didn’t accept, I would be passing up a chance of a lifetime.
I went home and asked my mother what she thought about the proposal. She didn’t seem to like the idea at first but when she realized that the money I would be sending her would be a great help, she gave me her blessing. The next day, I said my goodbyes and I packed up the few things I had and waited for the night to pass. I was ready for my new life.
The next morning, a van pulled up to my home and I was escorted in. I was alone with three large men. There were no windows and we sat in silence. I finally got the strength to ask my boss where I was going to stay and what kind of factory I would be working at. He didn’t answer me and just turned the radio on. I became scared, but remained silent.
After a while, the van stopped. I was escorted into another van with a large, impatient driver. My boss followed me into the van and spoke with the driver. He said he would be followed to the motel and that he had an hour to do what he had to do. The driver gave my boss a roll of what seemed like American money and shook his hand. My boss counted the money and told him to enjoy. I don’t know why, but I felt numb all over.
My boss got out of the van and waived the man and me goodbye. We drove in silence before he pulled into a motel parking lot. He walked me up some stairs and led me into a room. I was terrified because I knew he was about to harm me in the worst way. He began to touch me and started to unbutton my blouse. I slapped his hand and ran towards the door. The door was locked. I could not get out. I started to fight him off. I kicked, I punched, I scratched, I cried, and I screamed, but his strength was greater than mine. He slapped me and dragged me by the hair to the bed. He tore my clothes and covered my mouth as he began to rape me. I felt so much pain. With every move of his body, the pain grew. I was crying and screaming, but it did not seem to bother him. My entire body felt numb and the sweat flowed down from the man’s forehead and onto my face. I felt so hurt, so dirty, so helpless, so betrayed…I wanted to run far away, far enough to escape what was happening. Once he got off of me, I noticed blood all over the bed and on him. I leaned to one side and vomited on the motel floor. I couldn’t stop shaking. He told me it wasn’t that bad, and that I would eventually get used to it. I hated him so much, but I hated my boss even more. I wanted to kill them both.
The man finally opened the door and I ran out. My boss was waiting outside the door and grabbed me. I tried fighting him off but I didn’t realize I was so very weak. He threw me back into the van. I couldn’t stop crying. I asked him why he lied and why he would allow something like this to happen. As I waited for a response, all he said was, “You’ll get used to it.”
In the days that followed, I tried “getting used to it”. I tried to stop feeling. I tried to convince myself that I hadn’t done something to deserve this. I tried to convince myself that I wasn’t going to die here in this place. And I tried to convince myself that God had not forgotten about me.
They send me off with different men most of the day and most of the night. The men don’t ever really talk to me. They don’t care that they are hurting me. And they don’t care that they are killing me.
Some of the men have cameras and they take pictures of me even though I’m not smiling. Some of them bring video cameras and they film all of the horrible things that they make me do and that they do to me. I want to ask them, “When you watch this will you ignore the part where I’m crying? Will you fast-forward, rewind; edit the parts when I’m not? Or maybe they won’t even show my face?”
And who else is going to watch it? Why would they want to? And why wouldn’t they come help me if they saw…
Email me here: thefamilybush[at]yahoo.com if you’d like to take him/her home!
It’s only been an hour since I put the word out about the gatito, but I’ve already got lots of responses. Unfortunately everyone said NO. Here’s a sample.
There is one guy that seems kind of interested. He is a boa constrictor dealer. Apparently, he takes all the free kittens he can get.
- NO, thank you…did you find one?
- Heck no! Thanks though. 
- NO!
- I hate cats…had a bad experience in the basement of some family i was babysitting for in hight school…I do think Jesus would care for the kitty…but not me!! I will pray for a good home….you are one funny fella
- My mother would kill me!
- My 140 pound rottweiler/golden retriever mix would eat that kitten for supper - sorry!
- Oh goodness!! She/he is so sweet! But no thanks…my life is crazy enough as it is right now…wouldn’t be fair to the cat.
- No, but I’ll keep my ears open for you to see if anyone would like one.
I was minding my own business. Seriously. I wasn’t looking for trouble or commitment. I was just jogging around Baptist Hospital. I’m supposed to run a 10k with my dad this weekend in Fayetteville, so I was getting myself ready for it.
Unfortunately, trouble found me. As I was turning from Kanis to Emergency Dr. I saw it. There it was, hair matted, wide-eyed, and shivering. A kitten. “Oh crap!” I said out loud, “It’s a cat.” I didn’t stop. I just kept right on running.
“I don’t need to be messing with that.” I told myself. It’s too much trouble, too much commitment. Then, the other side. “But, shouldn’t I? It’s shivering for crying out loud!” I was thinking all this as I made the 1 mile loop around the hospital. I wondered if it was my duty as a follower of Christ to do something. Would Jesus help a homeless kitten? I wasn’t convinced. I don’t personally believe that animal rescue is what I’m called to. “It’s just a cat. And it probably has flees or leprosy.”
Then came the fatal blow. “What would Sophia think of me if I didn’t do anything?” I knew that right now she can’t understand it, but what if she could? “What would she think?” I wondered. I knew exactly what she would think. She would see me as a hard-hearted, merciless, puppy-kicking, kitten abandoning, jerk. “Ok.” I told myself, “If it’s still there when I go back around I’ll get it.”
It was. So, I wrapped it up in my shirt and high tailed it back to the Promise House. I gave it some milk and a bath. And I put it in a cardboard box. Except, it doesn’t like to be in the box. It wants to be where it can see me. If it can’t see me it meows really loudly and obnoxiously.
Amanda and Sophia are in Crossett until tomorrow. So, she doesn’t know yet. It’s just me and the kitten hanging out. Bonding.
We won’t be keeping the kitten. The Promise House doesn’t allow it. So, I’m in search of a good home. Here’s a picture of him/her (I can’t tell). Please email me if you want it (thefamilybush[at]yahoo.com). You can come and get it today if you’d like.
Muchas Gracias a Kim B. for helping me figure out what in the world a participial phrase is. BooYa!
“Comin’ at ya like a pack of gorillas.”
It just doesn’t get any better than that. Found on “Here We Go” by Grits.
Sophia has been a bit out of sorts that past 48 hours. Apparently her back teeth are coming through and are causing her lots of pain. She has had a fever and not too interested in eating much.
But, she is still as sunshiny as ever in between times of lots of pain.
She’s been real into monkeys lately. She has collected three stuffed monkeys (actually, it’s two monkeys and one gorilla) and keeps them pretty close. She likes to walk around making the monkey sound. Ooh ooh ooh.
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