Reading Isaiah 6

I did a daily devotional reading this morning. It was Isaiah 6 1-8 and I was struck by the fact that, in Isaiah's case, his cleansing was not without pain.

From Isaiah 6:5 (reading from The Message)"Every word I've ever spoken is tainted...blasphemous even! And the people I live with talk the same way, using words that corrupt and desecrate." One of the angels surrounding God on his throne approached Isaiah with a hot ember and touched his lips and said, "This coal has touched your lips. Gone is your guilt, your sins wiped out."

I think it's so easy to think that Jesus will wash away my sins and he'll take all the "damage" and pain. In Isaiah's case, he was one of God's chosen prophets and yet, his sanctification came with the pain of an ember on his lips.

At church yesterday, we heard from Tom in our Sunday School lesson and Derrick in the sermon in the morning that sin is not without its consequences. It's a lesson that we are told to teach our children and it's something that I'm so quick to dismiss and overlook. I need to remember that what I'm going through, the pain that I'm experiencing, is likely the consequences of my sin.

I'm so quick to judge and blame others for my pain, my discomfort, my disappointments. I need to remember that I am responsible for my sin and I am responsible for the consequences.

It's a hard lesson to learn.

Wow! Michael and Farrah on the same day.

I must say that I am a little more than shocked about the deaths of Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett. When I say that each, in their own way, shaped my teen years, it's no understatement.

Farrah held a permanent position on my wall throughout my tween and teen years. I was not alone. I bet there were millions of that now-famous poster sold around the country. Farrah was the Jane Mansfield/Marilyn Monroe of my era. She was the pin-up girl for my male generation and she deserved it.

And Michael Jackson... What can you say about his music, his dancing, his presence in the 70's and 80's. The soundtrack of my youth was cluttered with Off the Wall and Beat It and Thriller. When Michael released an album, it went straight platinum and it was fantastic. When he released a single, it shot straight to #1 and you could sing and dance to it all night long. He knew what we kids wanted to hear and delivered EVERY time.

I chose not to think of them in their later years. The Michael in my memory is Michael, not Jacko the Wacko. The Farrah I see in my mind is that beautiful, sexy blonde on my wall. I don't even think about the Farrah that struggles with the sins of this world or the Farrah who spent too much time with the cosmetic surgeon.

I chose to remember them as I saw them in my youth. The way I celebrated them in my youth. On this sad day, I think I owe them that.

Let me recommend a quirky film for your viewing pleasure

What was the last movie you went to see? Mine was a homespun tale called "Night of the Loup Garou" and it was a great experience.

The campy film pays homage to the great B-movie horror flicks of old. It details a day (and night) in the life of Dr. Dax Wingo, an expert in the mythical Loup Garou, or Cajun Werewolf. Dax and a merry band of hunters, scientists, and prerequisite G-men search for the tormenting beast in the woods of Taylor, Miss. The action that ensues is horrifying, funny, and down right clever.

The film was produced, designed, directed, and (in many cases) acted by an extremely creative and talented group of folks in Oxford, led by Ole Miss' Micah Ginn. My friend Laura Cavett did the poster art, prop work, set design, and created the Loup Garou costume. They all did a great job and I hope they plan on a sequel very soon. (Cue the growl and bone-rattling howl)

If you get a chance to check out the movie, I highly recommend it. Look for showtimes at www.mississippiwerewolf.com.

You have to start somewhere...

This is my first attempt at "blogging" although I've been on the net for many years sharing my opinions, thoughts, prayers, and complaints.

My mother was a writer. She wrote and destroyed more stories, books, letters, etc. then I'll ever begin. She wrote the most heart-felt, beautiful letters and she was an avid journal writer . Her written words reached out to you and made you want to sit beside her and listen. She rarely spoke of herself and her life but she wrote about it so well. If she were alive today, I know she would be writing a blog and everyone would be reading it. I miss seeing her handwriting and experiencing her via pen and paper. I miss her every day.

Onward...