Thursday, August 20, 2009

Grinch Grimace



United Way... the once a year opportunity to get Dave to shave off all facial hair. This year he's the Grinch and here is his best grimace.
Still adorable... couldn't be too threatening.

It's been great to have Dia home visiting and aiding in the debachery.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

The Kamas Family Transport


Here is what passes for the favorite mode of transporation in my little home town. I love it!

Friday, August 14, 2009

To Err or Not to Err -- That is the question.

Ask an ex-smoker which is easier, smoking or not smoking?

Ask an ex-gambler which is easier, gambling or not gambling?

Ask an ex-meth addict, well, you know.

CS Lewis said it best:

"No man knows how bad he is till he has tried very hard to be good. A silly idea is current that good people do not know what temptation means. This is an obvious lie. Only those who try to resist temptation know how strong it is. After all, you find out the strength of the army by fighting against it, not by giving in. You find out the strength of a wind by trying to walk against it, not by lying down.

A man who gives in to temptation after five minutes simply does not know what it would have been like an hour later. That is why bad people, in one sense, know very little about badness . They have lived a sheltered life by always giving in. We never find out the strength of the evil impulse inside us until we try to fight it;

and Christ, because He was the only man who never yielded to temptation, is also the only man who knows to the full what temptation means--the only man who knows to the full what temptation means--the only complete realist." Mere Christianity, p. 142

Treehouse!

Dia's insight on treehouses:

"I asked Dad how he could strengthen the treehouse's railings, because Uncle Nathan was up there pushing on them (and they were swaying baaaack and fooorrrrth and baaaack...). He said they'll be fine, the kids just can't touch them.

I said, "Sometimes the semblance of good is worse than abject evil." I thought for a minute at my profoundity and then I said, "Ooooo... that sounded goood!"

And Dad said, "Huh?"

What I meant (I think) is that if there were NO railing, the kids would be too scared to get close to the edges. A weak railing just makes the kids (falsely) think that the edges are safe to be near and (knowing OUR family) to be rappelled from. This is true even though the distance from the treehouse to the ground has not decreased by one inch.
Sometimes I put up "railings" at the edges of my own standards. These false barriers that supposedly protect me from danger really tempt me to move closer and closer to the edges of my beliefs. If they are weak and moveable, I am in more danger than I would be without any railings at all. R rated movies, for example, are "not OK." A clearly defined, protective barrier, right? However, this barrier implies that everything up to the edge is safe--that ANYTHING within PG-13 rated films is just fine--which is simply NOT true


(Transformers II was SO BAD. We should've walked out. It was so crude and simply FILLED with cursing. Ugh, disgusting.) Seriously.
Oh, at the risk of analogy overload, I thought of another one while I was trying to keep images/lines from that cursed movie out of my head today. Bad images/words/etc are like files in a computer. You know when you try to delete one, and you get the message, "deleting this program's shortcut will not remove it from your computer" ? Even when you do uninstall it, it seems like all the files, cookies, images and connections it made on your computer linger for months afterward. The only solution to the problem is to never put the file on your hard drive in the first place.
While a bad file contaminates, we can also run the risk of a too large file slowing compution speed, impeding progress and even spreading and contaminating other programs and files, just like a bad or misplaced priority can slow our spiritual dexterity, impede eternal progression and contaminate other parts of life).

Back to the treehouse:

I cannot forget the danger of the edge in my creation of protective boundaries. I must remember the difference between the spirit AND the letter of the law in recognizing the distance between me and the edge, and between the edge and the ground.

For clarification: I am NOT saying we shouldn't have clearly defined boundaries--but we cannot let ourselves forget the dangers beyond the boundaries we have told ourselves we will not pass.

The road to hell is smooth and paved, not bumpy and twisting. If Satan can keep us oblivious, or better yet, content in our sins, it's a quick drop to him.

d

It's me again, Terina... being taught by the children.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009

I’m feeling the need to reread, “The Man Who Mistook His Wife for a Hat.” It’s a fun and interesting collection of case studies of a brain doctor. One story in the book speaks of a blind and disabled woman, who from birth couldn’t use her arms. There was no medical reason for it so the doctor set about changing her behavior, by challenging her. The only device he could use was her food. People serving her would deliver her food and then be called away and in her frustration to eat, she finally reached out and fed herself.

I am wondering why today I have been gifted with the memory of this story in this book--why today in the travails of my own life, has it come to my mind? I’m sure this doctor did not write this book to be a philosophical study of self-help and life change. So, why does my guide in today’s journey want me to sit with this question? (While I frantically cook, plan, pack, prepare and put away).

Am I this woman? What in my life has become too easy? Have I cultured habits that make me complacent and prevent me from reaching out to life? Do I need the “food challenge” to awake in me some great potential?

Am I this girl's early caregiver who must have succorred, cared and shielded her to her utter detriment. Am I preventing others from reaching out?

Or perhaps conversely, I am the doctor? What? There are several scenarios happening in different areas of my life that I can hold up and analyze and compare to this story.

The real end of the story is that the woman went on in her life to find joy in creating intricate and beautiful sculptures of life.

Hmmm, maybe that is what my creator wants me to think about today.

A Worrisome Thump

           What is that noise?             I’m jarred awake by a noise in the dark. Down the hallway—a bump or a thump. My action thriller b...