Was anybody driving down Tennessee Street at about 1:45 yesterday? It was like a dam broke. Rain pouring down from out of nowhere. Ocala looked a lot like this-



That's me standing there by that rock where Crystal River used to be.

Anyway, I managed to keep my little Saturn from floating away by staying in the middle lane because the right hand one was submerged in rushing water. I was completely soaked running the 5 feet from my car to my door. I'm reading through Genesis and when I opened up my Bible last night, lo and behold, we were on the story of Noah. Not the Evan Almighty version, but the old school one. (Michael Scott or not, I'm not a fan of sequels so I'm going to bypass that one.) So here's the gist of chapter 7.

"The LORD then said to Noah, "Go into the ark, you and your whole family, because I have found you righteous in this generation...And Noah did all that the LORD commanded him...And after the seven days the floodwaters came on the earth."

I wonder if Noah or any of his family thought about how ridiculous it seemed to wait 7 days inside an ark for the whole earth to flood. In the Fantasia version of Noah and the ark it starts to rain as soon as they all get inside. Granted, you can't expect the story to be too terribly accurate when Noah hires Donald Duck as his assistant. But I just think that if I were in that ark, sharing my room with an elephant, an anaconda and a couple of horned toads, I'd be ready to throw in my hat and get back to the sunshine. Good thing they didn't though, or I suppose I wouldn't be here.

I suppose God does promise us things and then makes us wait a bit. Afterall, the Israelites waited 400 years for freedom. I hope I never have to wait that long for something.

Free Fallin'

I wouldn't say I'm clumsy. My feet just like to meander out and about on their own a bit without my head knowing it. They're very unreliable. But, then, how would you like to be a foot, really? All the weight of the body rests on you and you just hold it up, carrying it around with no say in where it goes. I for one would rather be an eye or a hand. This is sounding familiarly like a sermon out of Corinthians.

I was going to let Foot 1 and Foot 2 have a few words in this blog post, but I'm currently upset with them over their embarrassing display off Hartsfield Road today. They tell me that the sidewalk just seemed to jump out in front of them, but I don't believe any of this. I think the Foots and the Eyes are plotting my demise. They're off to a good start. However, the Knees and Hands are livid over the gashes and bruises they endured today while a slew of drivers watched and so there will be no cooperation from them. There could be a mutiny tonight while I sleep. When that happens I generally fall off the bunkbed and Head suffers the most. Poor Head. He doesn't bother anyone.

Anyway, I am going to go find some neosporin and a couple band-aids. You all have a fabulous day. And if any of you would like to go see Leon's production of "My Fair Lady" tomorrow night, let me know. Arrivederci!

How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them?
-the apostle Paul



My friend Nick is sharing the gospel with people in the Phillipines. He's been there for a couple months. He canoed up a river to share with people who have never heard the gospel. There's no churches, no pastors, no Christian schools, no WWJD? bracelets, no Jesus Loves You coffee mugs and no metal fish stuck on the back of rusty pick up trucks. No one has ever gone to share the good news of Jesus at any time.

This is a picture he took of a Filpino woman crying over the fact that Jesus died for her. She didn't know.

"If sinners be damned, at least let them leap to Hell over our bodies. If they will perish, let them perish with our arms about their knees. Let no one go there unwarned and unprayed for."
-Charles Spurgeon

It Wasn't So "Affle"...

There's just something about Waffle House. The food's rarely good, the service is terrible and bowl of grits houses more butter than a Land O' Lakes factory. But we all still go there. Maybe it's because we feel sorry for the lonely employees who wait tiredly at 3 o'clock in the morning for some poor soul to come in and talk to them. Or maybe it's because a waffle only costs $1.25 and this is just barely under my 4th meal budget. Whatever the case may be, this is the restaurant Diane chose for us to eat at after the Fourth of July event last Wednesday. Our friends Eric and Logan drove down from the metropolis of Hahira, Georgia to watch the fireworks with us and then it was off to the Waffle House on Capital Circle.

Waffle House was surprisingly crowded at 11:00 that evening. 2 employees, a cook and a waiter, ran around like chickens with their heads cut off, the latter looking particularly despondent. We filled up about 3 tables and were waiting patiently for someone to come to our table when the waiter stood up declared, "This is [insert expletive here]," and walked out, pad in hand. The cook seemed to turn white and all of us looked at him, wondering what we were supposed to do. He started to pace the floor and looked as though he was about to faint at any moment. He tried calling his manager, but she was an hour away. He didn't even know how to use the register. Or take orders. He was just the cook. All of us who'd already eaten didn't have tickets, so we didn't know how much we owed. It was at this point that Christina Klawinski stood up and put her hand on the cook's shoulder and said, "I'll run the register." Christina went behind the counter and started tinkering with the register, trying to figure it out. The cook, Randall was his name, looked so relieved that Diane got up and started taking drink orders. Another girl from a different table (who looked a lot like Joy Fulford, so we took to calling her that) asked Randall for a pad of paper and began to take orders for everybody. Armed with a menu in one hand and a calculator in another, a skinny muscular guy in a wife-beater began to walk to each table making tickets for everyone. Kenley calculated tax, Logan put on an apron and hat and began to wash dishes, another guy named Doug began scooping out grits and Joy's daughter began cleaning tables. Randall had never had such help, nor such a clean store.

After about half an hour, the new "employees" of the Capital Circle Waffle House were already shouting orders to each other. Joy chided Doug for his ignorance of the Waffle House menu. "Come on, Doug, you know that the All Star breakfast comes with a waffle!" Kenley was demanding refills and all of us were feeling pretty comfortable in there. When the manager walked in unexpectedly all of us stopped dead. We'd violated so many health codes and labor laws. But she only smiled and went on and on about how blessed she was with such sweet customers. So it was with a mix of disappointment and relief that we handed over the reigns to her. Randall got the biggest tip that night he'll probably ever see and he had a pretty darn good Fourth of July that day. I think that all of us have jobs waiting for us at Waffle House if we ever need them. (I also think that we'll all respectfully decline the offer.)

Jason and the Limbs

And now it's time for that great 50's doo-wop hit by Jason and the Limbs- Do You Have a Chainsaw?

We're here with Jenna Myrick, triangle player for the one hit wonder group Jason and the Limbs. Tell me, Jenna, what's the story behind your band's name?

Well, Jason was my neighbor back in 2007. One day he came to the door and asked me if I saw the lamp that fell in my backyard and I said, "Wha? There's a lamp in my backyard?" And he said, "Liiiiimmmb." And I said, "Oh, no, I haven't seen the limb that fell in my backyard."

Do you find it hard to understand Jason on a regular basis?

No, but he insists that he has a strong southern accent. He doesn't.

Was this the first time that Jason has come over?

No...he likes to over-inform us on things that happen at our house. Normally it's kind of annoying, but this time I really did have no idea that there was half a tree in our yard.

How'd it fall?

Well, we assumed that lightening had struck it because it had been storming really bad, but Jason gave me a long, drawn-out explaination about how "this here tree's a wateroak and that's why it fell and blah, blah, blah." Laurie says it's a cherry tree. He's misinformed.

So, what happened next?

Well, we walked outside to see a giant limb, and I'm talking giant, from the tree that had fallen onto our hammock in our backyard. And he asks me, "Do you have a chainsaw?" And I said, "Uh, no." And he said, "Do you have any kind of saw?" And I said, "No." And he said, "Well, if I had a chainsaw, I'd cut it down right now. But since I don't, do you want me to call your landlord?"

Why would he call? Were you not speaking to your landlord?

No, Todd and I are pretty much BFF. But Jason didn't know this and he felt like it was his responsibiltiy to take care of the needs of the world. He assumes we're little helpless college girls.
Jason insists on moving the tree because he thinks that it's going to injure his fence. I asked if he needed assistance, but he said, "No, that's okay, Sweetie."

Do you think it's normal for 40-year old men to call you Sweetie?

Uh, no, but at least he didn't call me Sugarlips.
Jason tries to move the limb, but it's obviously too heavy because he sounds like he's going to have a heart attack at any moment. But as he pushes it a piece flies up against the fence and whacks it off. He didn't seem too concerned. It'll give him a place to look through to make sure no more limbs have fallen into our yard.

Thanks for your time, Jenshka. Let's give it up for Jason and the Limbs.