An Afternoon tale

The scanner scans, and the twain acquires . . . and I listen to the singer of songs. Clicking keys and resonant guitar strings blend with male voices in close harmony . . . and the hammerers hammer with ever increasing fervor.

Da da da dum, thunk, click, thunk, clickety click click, thunk, da da da da da da da da da dum, clickety clicety clickety click, "one of us will die inside theses arms," thunk, thunk, bam, da da da da da da da dum, clickety clickety click, "eyes wide open, naked as we came" clickety click, thunk, bam, blam, thud, thud, clickety click.

The singers of songs and the hammerers blend with the typing of keys and the silent twain as he aquires. I'm in Corbitt.

We're just not that cool

You know, I used to mourn for creation whenever I saw how man damaged it. To this day it hurts my heart to see how we take a beautifully perfect thing and proceed to chip away at its integrity in the name of progress or improvement. Don't get me wrong, I am totally a victim of my era, I cannot imagine life without some of the developments that have come from that attitude, but I still mourn the losses that come with them.

But I noticed something yesterday. I was driving down the river road from Carrolton and looking at the setting sun reflecting in the Ohio river. I've been told that this river has been so polluted at points that it actually caught fire. I was comparing it to the rivers I grew up knowing - the cold Greenbrier that could give me chills even in August, and the Rappahanock, with it's warm salty waves and good fishing. And I realized something . . .

The Ohio may be so polluted that you can't swim in it, but it's still beautiful with that streak of burning sunfire reflecting on it's little ripples. And big skyscrapers are generally not my favorite thing to see, but I know of a few tall buildings that are really very attractive in the sherbet colors of a rising sun. We as people aren't such an awesome force that we can totally ruin God's beautiful creation, or create something so horrid that he can't improve it. We just aren't that cool.

So while I still mourn periodically for the damage inflicted by mankind, I can look back now and see the sun set over the river and witness God winking and saying, "I'm still here, and I am greater than even this." It's really one of the sweeter things I've seen Him do, and all the more reason to try harder to preserve His creation.

Praise, not worship

Most of those who know me know that I don't take compliments well. It's not that I dont' appreciate them, I just don't know how to handle them. I never know what to say, or how to properly thank the person who has spoken the kindness to me. It's kinda wierd. And awkward.

The other day I received a compliment that I truly wouldn't ever expect. I was getting the equipment ready to load in the van for Ichthus, and Kathy said something to the effect that it was a good thing that I was setting a strong technical example for other girls in the media department. I was floored. Kathy was giving me a genuine compliment - it's not that she's mean or anything, but she's very honest and that makes her compliments all the more valuable. To top that off, she was complimenting me on something that I really like doing and hope to be really good at some day - equipment and technical stuff. It made my week!