485ing it.

How reassuring the sound of a bird chirping is.

Against the background of speeding vehicles, it is downright heavenly.

Where am I? On I-485, the branching interstate that flanks the parent I-85 in Charlotte. I had just experienced a tire blowing out, and it wasn't fun.

I was (still am, hopefully) headed to watch a soccer game with my U-13 Girls team as the first leg of an evening of practice and team-building. So, naturally, I am disappointed sitting here waiting for AAA to get here and tow me to a tire shop.

In any case, now that my pulse has returned to normal, I feel somewhat let down. When I heard the pop, I had the weird sensation that someone had shot at me.

I figured I had to be making mighty moves for the kingdom, and someone was trying to take me out. Or, with the BET Awards at hand, someone had mistaken me for a musician driving a Honda and decided to take that diss record I made a decade ago personal. Or, a local youth pastor warning me about innocently poaching some of his youth.

Or, it could be a blown tire.

In any case, I am safe, and grateful for the prayer tweets coming in (along with the suggestions to look for stale fries and lemon-crusted squirrel from Pam and Karen).

Plus, I finally have tan lines, and that, my friends, is no small feat.

Picture courtesy of Wiki Commons.


Sent via BlackBerry

485ing it.

God hates Twitter

I'll leave the commentary to y'all. I mean that. I won't utter a word.

Okay, just one word. Really?!

Keep in mind that this is not a denominational issue...

http://tech.yahoo.com/blogs/null/142309

God hates Twitter

*Space reserved*

... for future testimony...

*Space reserved*

Sheep thieves and saints

Years ago, I read an interesting story.

Two young men, friends upon a wayward path, decided to steal a sheep. Unfortunately for them, they were caught and sent before the elders of the clan.

Justice was swift and brutal.

That evening, before the entire village, the two men were tied up, set on their knees, and each had the initials "ST" branded on their respective foreheads, denoting Sheep Thief. For the rest of their lives, there would be a permanent reminder of their transgression for the whole world to see, and a deterrent to other would-be criminals.

The one youth became despondent. He moved to the edge of the town and morphed into a grumpy recluse noted for his mean disposition. He lived out the rest of his years in shame and self-imposed solitude.

The second boy was different. After a brief period of shame and regret, he slowly began to dedicate his life to serving others. There wasn't a person in need he didn't try to help; he became renown for his kind works and his Godly ways. Eventually, he was looked upon as an example of virtuous living, and people strove to be in his company.

One day, when the second was an old man, a visitor to the land asked his host what the ST on the man's forehead stood for.

"Don't really remember," said his host, scratching his head, " but I am fairly positive it means "'Saint'."

This story isn't mine, and I wish I knew the author to ask forgiveness for butchering it, but it has always resonated with me.

Redemption takes time, but it can and does happen. The concept of having the slate cleaned is priceless. And every believer knows we deal with a salvation that is freely given and unearned. I am not trying to discount the consequences attached to our actions, but there is something inherently fascinating about the Good News.

Errors happen, but they are not the end.

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Sheep thieves and saints