The Cat Ate My Sermon

Six days ago, Scully was fine. At least she seemed fine to me. Still following me around the house, still perched in my lap every moment I sat at the computer, still crawling under the covers with me at night. Still eating, still playing, still swatting her brothers. Then I noticed a change. She was sleeping more. And eating less. She began to slow down. Simple movements required several minutes of recoup time. I called the vet Friday morning. Of course they were booked until the following Wednesday. Was it an emergency? Hell, I didn't know. But Scully was still drinking, still using the litterbox, still purring. But Saturday morning was no better. I called the emergency vet hospital and took her in. The vet took a blood and urine sample. She wasn't too concerned about Scully not eating, at least at this point, but suggested I give her pepcid tablets to quiet her stomach. Just pop it down her throat. Yeah...right. The vet was most concerned about her heart. She could hear both

Not bad for 40. This photo was taken overlooking the Aegean Sea. The Temple of Poseidon at Sounion is in the background. While in Mexico on a mission trip at the beginning of April, I got a message to call the senior pastor as soon as possible. This worried me. Two years prior, I had received a call like this, and one of the members at my little church had passed away. Expecting the worst, I made the call. Lewis was surprised by my quick reply, and told me that one of the women who had signed up for the Footsteps of Faith trip to Greece and Turkey had to back out at the last minute and would I like to go. Of course I would, I said, but money is an issue and is why I wasn't going anyway. He countered, what if the church pays your way? $6000 - How could I say no to that? It was like winning the showcase on the Price Is Right. Two weeks in Greece/Turkey, and getting to celebrate my 40th birthday while there. Pretty nice! Now, the ironic twist is this. The day before I had been speakin

Before everyone begins to think that my car is my life, let me just say this will probably be the final post about it. I just got back from a trip to Greece and Turkey - will post about that separately - but right before I left on the trip, my new car was desecrated. Okay, maybe that is a strong word. It was marred, dented while parked. And the offender didn't even bother to leave a note. I am guessing that he/she probably lacked insurance, considering the neighborhood where the incident occurred. I only write about this because nearly the exact same thing happened to my previous car. I had purchased the Taurus used, but only three years old. A few weeks after buying the car, I had gone to a yard sale, parked on the street, and some woman backed out of her driveway and gouged it. It was rather minor, the car was inexpensive, so I never got it fixed. So here with my new Subaru, only had it a month, went to a Board meeting at our neighborhood ministry, parked on the street, an

Okay, so I love my new car. I really do. But then yesterday I went to the dealership to pick up the owner's manual. The previous owner had not turned it in with the car, so they ordered a new one for me. I started plodding through it. Yes, plodding. Really, how exciting is it to read an owner's manual? But there are several buttons and knobs about which I know nothing. All was well until I got to the section on fuel. Apparently I purchased a vehicle that requires premium unleaded gasoline. Believe you me, I read that section repeatedly and quite slowly until every word sunk in. So, the cute little turbo engine (the one that makes the car go 140 mph) requires special, high-end fuel. Putting in lesser fuel will cause knocking and possibly mess something up. I know that's not the technical jargon for what will happen, but basically, if I use the cheap gas, I'm going to ruin something. Needless to say I am livid with the dealership. You would think that they would disclose

Okay, so I've been looking at the Subaru Forester for the past three or so years. No big hurry to buy a car, mind you. My trusty little Taurus has served me well. For certain, I've kept my mechanic in business. But nothing unexpected from an eleven year old car. A car that I own outright. With low insurance premiums. But lately she'd been acting up. Pesky electrical problems. And I began to wonder if perhaps it was time to really consider a new (used) car. But who wants a car payment and higher insurance premiums. Though, I had been putting some money aside every so often, so at least I would have a down payment. So I did a local search on the Internet for used Foresters. And there it was. A 2006 XT in a color I could actually appreciate. Just enough bells and whistles to feel comfortable. The perfect vehicle for me. But old habits like to rear their ugly heads, and I just couldn't justify the expense, what with the economy about to go nuts and all. Maybe I could wait a

Beloved friend, Anne Much too soon. You will be missed. Tuesday, January 29, 2008

I told her that there were very few people in this world for whom I would get out of bed at 3:30 a.m. She could hear the smile in my voice over the phone line. Of course I would come pray with her before her surgery. She's one of my dear friends. Has been for years. But when she introduced me to her surgeon as her pastor, I had to take a step back. Of all the pastors on staff at the Big Church, she wanted me to come. I can still remember getting to know Anne on our first mission trip together. I was barely more than a visitor to the church when I signed up for the trip to Washington. There's another long story there, about how I left the Baptists, completely disgusted by the politics of religion. And how after a two year hiatus, I began church hopping, looking for a place of comfort. How the thoughts of pursuing ministry had been completely crushed. But Anne welcomed me, a stranger among the mission trip groupies. We became fast friends. She persuaded me to join the church, so