The Hey You Lady

Read Philippians 2:1-11 In South America there is a certain species of monkey called the Spider Monkey. It got its name from its long, spindly arms and legs, and the way it easily moves about from tree to tree to do its spider monkey things. The spider monkey also happens to be an important food source to the South American natives, and the natives have discovered a very easy way to capture them. They set up a simple gourd, with a hole just large enough for the monkey to stick his hand in. The natives put a particular type of nut in the gourd, and fasten it securely in a tree at sunset. Then, during the night, the spider monkey will discover the scent of food, stick his hand in the gourd, and grab the treat. It tries and tries to pull his hand out, but because he cannot remove his closed fist, and won’t let go of his prize, he is unable to escape. Come morning, the hunters return, bag the monkey, taking it captive. In our Scripture passage this morning Paul is warning the church in Ph...

My washer and dryer have both been on the fritz of late, which means I’ve been spending some quality time at the local Laund-O-Rama. It can be an interesting place, that Laund-O-Rama. When you look around at the other patrons you can easily tell who has waited until the very last possible day to wash their clothes. I mean, where else would you see someone wearing green and orange plaid Bermuda shorts with a faded NSync t-shirt in public? For that matter, who would wear that same combination at home? Talk about your Wardrobe Malfunctions! Stop staring! But it’s hard not to stare – I can’t help it if this person is wearing something so unnatural that it naturally draws attention to himself. His clothing combination, that sore for sighted eyes, makes me feel uncomfortable. I can’t help thinking, that could have been me if I had waited a couple of more days to do my washing! picture by punkifunkimunki1 via photobucket.com Every now and then I ponder how life might have turn...

Millmark Ave. was a nice quiet street, a good neighborhood where you could raise a family. I remember when we first moved on Millmark, the street was about four blocks long, until the freeway went in, dividing the street. As a little girl, I knew at least the family names of everybody on our little street, where the good kids lived, which houses had the trouble-makers, and which houses the grumpy old men lived in. I remember when a new family moved in across the street. I must have been probably around seven or so at the time – we were allowed to play unsupervised in the front yard but were not yet allowed to cross the street without permission. On one of those front-yard days, the kids in the new family were playing outside. They were a little younger than my sister and me, and they were not allowed to cross the street either. Wanting to be friends, but not wanting to get in trouble with our parents, Julie and I shouted across the street to these new neighbors, wanting to share our L...

Hundreds of millions of people believe in prayer in one form or another. (I would offer some magical statistic that is easily found on the internet, but I do not have that figure available, so the estimate of hundreds of millions will have to do.) Generally speaking, we believe that through prayer God can heal the sick, comfort those who mourn, protect military personnel half a world away, guide our government officials. It seems in public times of prayer, such as during a time of prayer during a church service, these are the majority of requests. Especially pleas for God to heal the sick. Let me be clear – there is nothing wrong with lifting these requests to God for His will to be done. But for the longest time I tried to figure out why we are not bolder in our public prayer requests (and I very much include myself in this general pondering). Finally, it occurred to me … These are prayers where there is little risk of others thinking our request is trivial or selfish. Or, there i...