The Awkward Turtle Has Landed

While browsing movie posters at the theater with Chloe:

"Hmm... his moustache makes me hungry."


"Happy. HAPPY. Did I say hungry? AGH!"


"Clearly, not only bread and fish are multiplied."

(as my pastor put it.)

My project for the next 18 days: memorizing Psalm 119. For anyone I haven't explained this to already, I'm learning the 10 longest Psalms (18, 37, 68, 69, 78, 89, 105, 106, 107, 119) for a rather generous individual in my church, who in return offers the reward of a 1-oz. gold coin.

My church, together with Reformation Covenant Church in Portland, is coordinating a two-week missions trip to Poland this summer. I had hoped to go, but didn't think I could afford it... until I looked in my bank account last week and found it rather fuller than I'd expected. So, between that and the money from the Psalms, I can go!!

This constitutes a large and lovely Christmas present from God. And, it fits well with Psalm 107, which I just finished working on.

Oh, give thanks to the Lord for His goodness, and for His wonderful works to the children of men! Let them sacrifice the sacrifices of thanksgiving, and declare His works with rejoicing.

A blessed Christmas to you all.



As of yesterday, I am 12.5% of the way through my time at NSA. Not a lot, is it?

Macaroni and cheese + more cheese + hot sauce + black olives + ketchup = pure delight. I can't believe it took me this long to think of it.


Or, for that matter...

There once was an NSA student
Who felt that to marry was prudent.
He went and he mingled with dozens of singles,
But sadly, he found that he couldn't.



God's hand is always at work, but now and then He reminds us more plainly.

Back in September, after the barbecue at Faith's place, Meg and I went stargazing in a field on the outside of town. We were lying on the roof of her car, freezing to death, and the beauty of it all hit me too strongly to resist. I started quoting.

When I consider the heavens, even the works of Thy fingers, the moon and the stars that Thou hast ordained, what is man that Thou art mindful of Him?

At that moment, a shooting star went across the sky.

This past week, if my life had been a snowglobe, God would have been the one turning it upside down and shaking it. Miracles happen. My plan is to lie back and watch the snow falling.


Sitting on a cornflake....

Actually, I'm doing no such thing, but Mr Collins happens to be playing that song.

Ecce me.

The vital question arises: what am I doing here?

Not to say I'm not the blogging type. Au contraire, mes amies. I've been blogging quite happily for two and a half years now. Blogging has given me more friends than I could have asked for. But, with a certain degree of stubbornness, I refused to get a Blogger, even when most of those friends abandoned our former cyberhaunts in favor of whatever it is Blogger has to offer... that certain je ne sais quois, I suppose.

Yes, I am using French to make you hate me. The unfortunate act is, I tend to think in a blurry jumble of English, French, Latin, and the occasional Japanese idiom. What can't be cured must be endured.

The vital problem arises: what am I doing here?

Hopefully, learning to talk.

Yes. I know how to talk. Unfortunately, the two criticisms I get the most are 1) that I'm too secretive and 2) that I can't keep a secret. And yes, both of those have been known to come from the same person (who was a deeply confused individual, but there you have it.)

Evidently, something needs to be done, so I would like to exercise my ability to speak well. After all, isn't that what rhetoric is all about?