I am reading Adam and his Kin for my history blog, and the reading I did last night had such spiritual ramifications that I wanted to discuss it over here just a bit. It also ties into what Pastor preached last Sunday, and you can pull those notes up here. When the serpent appeared to Eve in the Garden, he asked about the fruit. He was trying to tempt her, of course, and it worked.

Here are the instructions God gave in Genesis 2:16

Of every tree of the garden you may freely eat; 17 but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die.

But notice what Eve says in Genesis 3:2

We may eat the fruit of the trees of the garden; 3 but of the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of the garden, God has said, ‘You shall not eat it, nor shall you touch it, lest you die’

See, Eve added to the requirements God had set. Her addition made a reasonable restriction seem unbearably heinous. That’s legalism. It makes God look harsh and cruel.

Notice the other change: you shall surely die became lest you die. She took away from the punishment God had set. That’s greasy grace. It makes God seem capricious and unjust.

Neither of these views of God is true, but both ideas sprang from that first moment of temptation in the Garden. When we try to put our human interpretations on God’s Word, when we try to qualify it with our own “ifs, ands and buts”, when we twist it the least little bit, we begin a ride down a slope that can only lead to destruction. We set ourselves up to fail at a list of “requirements” that are impossible to fulfill and that God never made; or we set ourselves up for sure and certain consequences by denying the seriousness of his commands. Both stem from a refusal to take God at His Word.

Carnival of the Redeemed 3/13

Technorati Tags: Adam and his Kin, Eve, Genesis, God, legalism, greasy grace

At five in the morning, you can finally admit that the night is a wash and you are not going to get to sleep, and you can get out of bed.

At five in the morning, you can take a shower. You can take a very long, very hot shower, such as you never have time for on a “normal” day. Whatever normal might be. If you are me, and it is this particular day, you can use the towel your middle daughter used after her shower yesterday, because all your laundry is on the kitchen floor, where it was thrown to soak up the water when the your DH busted a fitting installing your new faucet yesterday evening.

At five in the morning, you can finally shave your legs, for the first time in can’t remember when. If you are me, you will have to use your husband’s fine smelling fusion shave gel, because one of your daughters killed the girly stuff and did not put a new one in the shower. Thus people will find you vaguely odd smelling as you go about what will surely be a very long day.

At five in the morning, you can decide that what’s sauce for one goose is fitting sauce for another and also not put new girly shave gel in the shower, even though there are two brand spanking new cans of it in the cabinet. You can chuckle to yourself over this for quite awhile.

At five in the morning, you can start the coffeepot, and put the towel you just used in the washing machine. You can also go through that aforementioned kitchen pulling other towels out of the sodden mass and put them in the washer as well.

At five in the morning, you can decide not to start that washer, because for the nonce, you are blissfully alone, and you really want to treasure it for just a little while.

At five in the morning, you can write an entire blog post, just as it came into your head, without a single interruption, and then you can go get that marvelous first cup of coffee, and plan your day while you drink it.

Technorati Tags: insomnia

If I could got hold of the real email address of the real decision maker for the Republican party, I’d send them a note to say:

Please don’t screw this up. It’s too important. Pick a real candidate, with a real vision for our country and let’s get it on. Don’t get distracted by flash and charm, just pick the best man for the job. It’s not Hillary you are fighting, it’s the mindset she represents. We the people still know the difference between the shammers and truth sayers.

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Run fast and run free.
There are no fences to hold you now.

You, who squeezed your too big self under my chair
and slept under my bed.

The big scary beast
afraid of everything.

I still remember how you licked
my hand the day you picked me to be yours.

Dear Family,
It is not my job to keep up with your:

socks
underwear
wallet
jeans
shoes

There are 9 of you, and one of me. Only 2 of you are basically helpless, and I have enough to do keeping up with them and myself.

Love,
Your Crap Keeper Wife/Mom

I am a redneck. George Jones, though old, is still hot. Rascal Flatts with that new rappity-crap is not.

I am a redneck. When I say we’re having chicken for dinner, my kids know I mean fried.

I am a redneck. Larry the Cable Guy is pee-in-my pants funny, Robin Williams is a close second, and George Carlin only merits a polite smile.

I am a redneck. I’m still Daddy’s girl, and I still say yes’sir.

I am a redneck. When my mama calls me, I still come running, lickety-split.

I am a redneck. I still say the Pledge of Allegiance, and I still sing the National Anthem. I make sure my sons take off their hats to do both.

I am a redneck. There was nothing civil about the War of Northern Aggression.

I am a redneck. I believe the Bible is the inspired word of the Living God, from beginning to end, everything in the middle, don’t even leave out the “selah”s in Psalms.

I am a redneck. I know that if you take the Baby Jesus out of Christmas, all you have left is a gimmee-gimmee day, soon forgotten as you search for the next thrill, but if you leave Him in, you have a real reason to celebrate.

I am a redneck. I know that when friends fail you, faith and family will carry you through.

I am a redneck. I believe that when the Declaration of Independence says all men are created equal, and endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, it means just that.

I am a redneck. I believe life begins at conception, and that if we do not protect the oldest and youngest among us, we fail them, ourselves, and our charge from the Almighty.

I am a redneck. I believe that when you go out in public, you ought to be wearing more than your wore to bed last night, not less.

I am a redneck. I listen to you sling that word around thinking you are insulting me, because you really have no idea what it means, and I smile.

I am a redneck, and that’s a mighty good thing.

I am a redneck, and I am proud.

This post inspired by Marcus.

Technorati Tags: redneck, George Jones, Daddy, mama, Pledge of Allegiance, Bible, Jesus, Christmas, friends, faith, family, Declaration of Independence

Standing here amid the wreckage
of my mind
I see the invisible blood
moving across the floor
in ripples like spilled paint
that you can scrub up
but never quite clean.

My mind is sorer
than my body and
that is saying alot
but it is my heart that is
beyond repair.

Today is full of normal
activities, but it is last night’s
soundtrack that fills the ears
of my soul.