tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3497564287765233532024-02-20T22:05:49.400-07:00Riddles of God"The riddles of God are more satisfying than the solutions of man." While my knowledge of G.K Chesterton is limited, I am intrigued with his faith and his defense. I am further intrigued with God's riddles.Joseph Skerjanechttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01615348335278322779noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-349756428776523353.post-69505068503982566042012-01-01T10:42:00.000-07:002012-01-01T10:55:09.261-07:00What a Guy!<br />
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 19px;">
<div class="rteAll">
<div style="height: auto !important; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: auto !important;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This past year was filled with blessings of life, and while we strive to make it beyond life to eternity, we give thanks for all He has blessed us with here.</span></div>
<div style="height: auto !important; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: auto !important;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="height: auto !important; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: auto !important;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I give thanks and blessings, too, for the friends who have come and gone in my life and for those who have made the trip beyond. Yesterday I lost a friend not much older than I. His name was Guy. He was climbing a ladder, and, at such a young age, he experienced a stroke. A day later he was gone.</span></div>
<div style="height: auto !important; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: auto !important;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="height: auto !important; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: auto !important;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">While I know our time here is to prepare for our next life, I also know that preparation can take awhile. After all, sometimes it is difficult to serve others. "Washing feet" can test our mettle, our patience...our piety. So I think if God decides to take us early, it is a sign we have done our job well, and our days of service are done. That is not to say if we live to be 100 we haven't learned to wash feet correctly. I think those who live awhile have a special place as well - perhaps, to share wisdom to those who are finding it difficult to serve. God only knows, and we have to find comfort in the fact that because He knows, we don't need to worry about it.</span></div>
<div style="height: auto !important; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: auto !important;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="height: auto !important; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: auto !important;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">However, that doesn't keep us from questioning, does it? After all, by the grace of God, we have free will - we're human, and in serving others, we grow close to them. We grow to love them.</span></div>
<div style="height: auto !important; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: auto !important;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="height: auto !important; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: auto !important;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Guy and I became good friends coaching junior high wrestling together. We both have a love of kids; he in Young Life and me in education. We complemented each other in our coaching styles, we learned to balance each other, and in our quest to help boys become good young men, we became kindred spirits. We washed feet - we attempted to build great relationships with our wrestlers, and we hoped at the end of the day we made a difference in the lives of others.</span></div>
<div style="height: auto !important; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: auto !important;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="height: auto !important; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: auto !important;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So yesterday, I wept. I didn't cry, I wept - shoulders heaving. It is difficult to lose those special people in our lives, and, yes, when they've done their job well, they are blessed with an early exit. It has been some time since I've seen Guy, but his memory was alive with me because he was still here. His memory will <i>always </i>be alive, but it's different knowing I'll never see him here again, and that is why we all weep when we lose someone.</span></div>
<div style="height: auto !important; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: auto !important;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="height: auto !important; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: auto !important;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">His beautiful family, I'm sure, is devastated. His friends will mourn him for some time. But the countless lives that breathe easier because he has lived will have smiles in their hearts forever. Because Guy did it right. And I'm sure when he reached the Gates, The Man said, "Well done, my good and faithful servant."</span></div>
<div style="height: auto !important; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: auto !important;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="height: auto !important; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: auto !important;">
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I'll miss you, Guy, but I'll keep working at this "serving others" gig.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">nd one day I might get it right like you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
</div>Joseph Skerjanechttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01615348335278322779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-349756428776523353.post-29999609890504000412011-12-21T21:51:00.000-07:002011-12-21T21:51:56.418-07:00I Dreamed of Her<br />
<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; font-family: Schoolbell, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 19px;">
<div class="rteAll">
<div style="height: auto !important; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: auto !important;">
I dreamed a dream once. I dreamed of a life with a rustic home in the mountains on a spread big enough to raise horses. A place where kids could be kids. Space to learn how to sit ahorse as easily as breathing. A setting to learn to shoot a gun, to skin an elk, to swing an axe. A place to appreciate the beauty of the setting sun resting on a meandering river...a place to grow to be a man.</div>
<div style="height: auto !important; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: auto !important;">
<br /></div>
<div style="height: auto !important; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: auto !important;">
But I also dreamed another dream. I dreamed of her. I dreamed of that one woman I would share my life with. The one I would laugh with, cry with, fight with, make up with. I dreamed of a best friend who would share a life of wonder and awe. She would stretch me in ways I didn't imagine. She would keep me grounded when I aspired to nonsense yet push me to soar straight on 'til morning. I dreamed of her whom I did not know, yet I knew her a lifetime the day I met her.</div>
<div style="height: auto !important; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: auto !important;">
<br /></div>
<div style="height: auto !important; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: auto !important;">
Today we celebrate her birthday, and, as I said that day 20 years ago, I thank God for her. I thank God He filled my dreams of her--not of the dream I dreamed, but the dream He dreamed for me...for us. The dream in which we were meant to live together. And should another lifetime come and go, I would still dream that dream of her.</div>
<div style="height: auto !important; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: auto !important;">
<br /></div>
<div style="height: auto !important; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; width: auto !important;">
I still dream of you. Happy birthday!</div>
</div>
</div>Joseph Skerjanechttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01615348335278322779noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-349756428776523353.post-30999749805329476072011-10-08T21:54:00.000-06:002011-10-08T21:54:52.931-06:00Two Men, One Brother<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My father used to play with my brother and me in the yard. Mother
would come out and say, "You're tearing up the grass." </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">"We're not raising grass," Dad would reply. "We're raising
boys." </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">- </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Harmon Killebrew</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif;"><img height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL4CccoVmUhrum_aLHsmwO0LytsOi16-GeIl8XjIese9pERxrb_B36nO-XgnhRAISDcsuBk6XmJYDabflwomxWdEMR6M6NqSaIhSfywPgwPUOjJ-zgMVW7F5Pe_ae9MAVjAIT-YoqYJfk/s320/IMG_0319.JPG" width="320" /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;">A brother shares childhood memories and grown-up dreams. - Author Unknown</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif;"><img height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR3d8cw5ZxAHxk9x3Po7a9HQnAt2uOR9jc1PoYZwYxMbJAFqhBdD4PrlgJH-FYr4cZKI8yuCD4Lc89hWYMEQ3gc86wDVy4jgO1iTiNqT0R1FWhcqAp3xYppJJEKiBb80WfWaauJ89j9a0/s320/IMG_0320.JPG" width="320" /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">When
brothers agree, no fortress is so strong as their common life. - Antisthenes</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif;"><img height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1IIU_QxbJ-BPGfaRcPZUhVur2C7ZxRUiT2SkyhFhxNrQjRqN6JCVEOYJrhqq7wSP12SYsBF8Hz2NoNETk1msV9FajUysJytM0UORJXPRRD-Vbgj0nSCB-gLydFdxKBLOdlPEvTQ7_rfs/s320/IMG_0321.JPG" width="320" /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There's no other love like the love for a brother. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There's no
other love like the love from a brother.
-Terri Guillemets</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif;"><img height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVBIauOwaJl3zJCtW5ojfJc8up0XFup6g50RkiVqtQALJgZhIQ04ajAH2q982She9X3_g4z0n_-xGGA9YTNqF32R86b0FkptVz_lcMCVGDsslmaaticSLQ5FLPkxdu_eZv-sRbANP5-VI/s320/IMG_0322.JPG" width="320" /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;">It takes two men to make one brother. - Israel Zangwill</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif;"><img height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcf2s1bHduc2SEZsrQioLexvp4913DzkjcdGPU-VwTtbZJz4ShZLdxYk3O1GZ5yucze8Op1GwZTQiMh3HcAnUSKHDk-hQJf_YpLzmgHd-nQqG0YsoUL8EFBklgyHWRUl9BAI7MeJpbOpw/s320/IMG_0323.JPG" width="320" /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Sometimes
being a brother is even better than being a superhero. - Marc Brown</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #330000; font-family: georgia, 'bookman old style', 'palatino linotype', 'book antiqua', palatino, 'trebuchet ms', helvetica, garamond, sans-serif, arial, verdana, 'avante garde', 'century gothic', 'comic sans ms', times, 'times new roman', serif;"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><img height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXFAoDq967SuNIDhDdkcjMWx7T_XauggmPd46A7ms_q_J68XpQgMW7izGc6gOy2LCLitS0pkKUKm9Jq22lRtgpNl7BRh3buIdQDgG7JsLHKfNpdByeMOW7vL8ztwxcWnDJrhUOzaoSpgE/s320/IMG_0324.JPG" width="320" /></span></span>Joseph Skerjanechttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01615348335278322779noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-349756428776523353.post-27719635436739604492011-09-17T22:05:00.000-06:002011-09-17T22:05:52.386-06:00Kids Pray the Darndest ThingsThe other day while on recess duty, a little guy tells me a classmate "peed on the jungle gym." I walked over through the gravel, and, sure enough, the boy decorated a panel under the jungle gym. Of course, he had no idea why he did it. After giving him the "what for" I had him sit the rest of recess, and then I took him to my office.<br />
<br />
This was his third trip already. The first two for saying words the meaning of which he had no idea. Not a good batting average. After a short discussion, I sat in my chair with my elbows on my knees and I asked him from across my desk, "Kiddo, what are we going to do?"<br />
<br />
Silence.<br />
<br />
Finally, "Mr. Kerjanec, can I pway?"<br />
<br />
"I'd love to pray with you."<br />
<br />
More silence. Then..."In name Father, Son, Hoey Spirt, Amen." And then in one breath I listened to the most honest and inspiring prayer I've heard in awhile.<br />
<br />
"God is good, God is great and help me not to pee on things on the playground and say bad words. Amen."<br />
<br />Joseph Skerjanechttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01615348335278322779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-349756428776523353.post-4285471924752059682011-09-05T23:06:00.001-06:002011-09-05T23:06:18.483-06:00Team Skerjanec Top TenFrom time to time something is said or done that brings a chuckle in our household, so I've decided to start keeping track of them, and hope you enjoy them as well.<br />
<br />
<u>Cana Twist</u><br />
A few weeks back our new, young parochial vicar gave a homily on the gospel reading about the wedding feast at Cana. He discussed Jesus' answer to Mary's request to produce more wine. Jesus' response was, "Woman, it is not yet my time." Fr. Dave used an example for the young of the parish of what NOT to do. He said if your parents ask you to do something, this is not a good response. The boys were all serving, so just my wife and I were in the pew with Grandma and Grandpa. We both leaned toward each other and took bets which lad would use it first on their mother.<br />
<br />
That morning at breakfast, Grandma asked boy number-two why he never folds his hands with his palms together and fingers pointing toward heaven when he serves Mass. She said, "Show me how it would look if you did."<br />
<br />
His response? You guessed it, "Woman, it is not yet my time."<br />
<br />
<br />
<u>Is it Bigger than a Bread Box?</u><br />
So we're traveling miserably slow on a trip down the interstate (as described in another blog entry), and we begin to play "Twenty Questions." Finally, boy number-three gets the giggles. He says with enthusiasm, "Okay, I've got one. It's a thing."<br />
<br />
One question we always seem to ask when playing this game: "Is it bigger/smaller than a bread box?" When the question came up, he responded that it could be.<br />
<br />
Twenty questions later we gave up.<br />
<br />
An almost inaudible response behind more laughter, "It's a bread box!"<br />
<br />Joseph Skerjanechttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01615348335278322779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-349756428776523353.post-76182137432818207252011-09-05T09:43:00.002-06:002011-09-05T09:44:38.916-06:00The Joy of the JourneyMy family and I decided to take a quick day-trip to my sister's to spend time with the auntie and catch up on some shopping. The two-hour trek in our eight-year-old van was a bit sketchy since we have had some mechanical issues, but our mechanic assured me it would make the trip.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, once we arrived, we realized the automatic transmission would not shift, so the rpms exceeded the comfort zone. The bigger question was getting home that evening - no shop would be open on a Sunday, let alone a long holiday weekend. Long story short, we decided to put our trust in God, said a prayer to Him through the intercession of St. Christopher and St. Raphael, and headed down the interstate with our flashers on. (Nothing more frustrating than driving 78 miles-per-hour at night and coming upon a vehicle driving dangerously slow.)<br />
<br />
Normally, a trip like this entails our four boys (mostly teenagers) listening to their iPods, reading a book, or, of course, sleeping. My wife and I will visit for awhile, and then she eventually dozes off with one hear open - in case I get sleepy.<br />
<br />
A trip such as this, as it is for many people, is an opportunity to shut down. We as a culture have formed a habit of being in such a hurry that the destination is the focus, and the quickest possible way without distraction is the norm. We have forgotten how to enjoy the journey. I am reminded of the animated film <i>Cars</i> in which the joy of the trip is triumphant over the speed in which to reach a destination.<br />
<br />
At any rate, the idea of this particular trip was met with opposition and an occasional whine (I am reminded of the phrase, "Are we there yet," though this time spoken in Teenese.) After miles and excessive minutes passed, they grew tired of the iPod, the eyes became fatigued with reading, and the naps no longer endured. Normally boredom evolves. But this time it was different. Dare I say...a miracle occurred.<br />
<br />
It started with my oldest saying, "I'm thinking of a place. You have twenty questions." First it was just my wife asking the questions. I chimed in some (not my favorite game), then boy number-two, then boy number-four. Number-three held out the longest with a nap but eventually joined in.<br />
<br />
The next hour-and-a-half seemed to fly by as we put everything aside and played "family." The climax of the trip came with our version of karaoke. My wife has a beautiful singing voice and her enthusiasm for music had been genetically transferred. The van was filled with the music of family as they joined Straight No Chaser, Harry, and Aida. (The boys are going to kill me for sharing that one.)<br />
<br />
I just smiled, listened, and thanked God that sometimes we get it right.<br />
<br />Joseph Skerjanechttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01615348335278322779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-349756428776523353.post-40795119816918035132011-02-03T22:26:00.001-07:002011-02-03T22:38:19.649-07:00The Archbishop the Apostle<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;"><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">My priest, our business manager, and I with two members of our parish trekked to Denver, for we were afforded the opportunity to present the state of our school to the powers that be at the archdiocese--including to the Archbishop. Before the meeting as we were making introductions, I knelt down to shake the hand of Archbishop Chaput. </div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;"><br _mce_style="" /></div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">I met him before a couple of times, but neither time did I kneel. Perhaps I didn't feel comfortable. Perhaps I didn't have the courage. Perhaps, this time, the Holy Spirit granted me the necessary fortitude and humility. How many times has the Lord told us to be not afraid. This time I am glad I wasn't--I experienced a revelation...an epiphany. As I looked up into his strong, compassionate eyes, I truly saw an apostle of Jesus. For the first time, I saw myself as his humble soldier of Christ.</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;"><br _mce_style="" /></div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">For the rest of the day I was profoundly touched with this illumination. The experience was no different than had I met St. John or St. Matthew. The fact that I am reading his book, <em>Render Unto Caesar,</em> may have something to do with it as well or that my oldest is discerning the priesthood. (He met him a few times this past winter and a few years back in Australia during World Youth Day.) Whatever the case, I truly realize he is a successor to the apostles, and I am deeply humbled. At once the meaning of my responsibility as his Catholic school principal came to fruition. I am his simple disciple.<br />
<br />
</div></div>Joseph Skerjanechttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01615348335278322779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-349756428776523353.post-4566463442162793112010-12-30T20:23:00.001-07:002010-12-30T20:49:28.073-07:00Twain's Jewel of Arc<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;"><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">I just finished Twain's biography of St. Joan of Arc. While I, like the rest of the world, knew her fate, I found myself with tears in my eyes at the conclusion of the story. Twain proved himself, again, as America's storyteller.</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">A beautiful young person called by God to reform His Church in France, St. Joan of Arc was not only burned at the stake by the Burgundians of France, she was left to fend for herself by the very country she was called to defend--especially by King Charles VII. And he did not choose to defend her until, 25 years later, when they said he was not legitimately the king since his royalty was founded on a young woman found to be a child of Satan. Thank God she was redeemed through the papal investigation..albeit only because of a king's greed.</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">On another note, she is left a martyr of the Church, and one whose character we can all aspire to. She was truly a Soldier of Christ, and I can only hope to strive for such a distinction; although, I doubt I shall ever succeed in achieving it. Her only passion was to serve God and his mission. What she received was the backhand of an overzealous bishop aspiring for an archbishopric promised him by the English should he find her guilty. In the end, his soul we can only pray for. And to her, a devotion and admiration for the ages to come. May I succeed in MY mission...whatever that may be. I pray God will some day make that clear.</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">Artistically, Twain maintained his humor in this historical fiction; though, in minute forms through St. Joan of Arc's personal entourage. I understand he wrote this in his later years, and with his daughter's untimely death in the shadows, published thereafter in novel form. However, I found myself touched by his compassion for St. Joan of Arc's passion and for her faith. I admire his respect for the Catholic faith, yet he points out very well the evils of men...no matter their faith.</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">Thus, I am left with a void. The time invested in reading a book leaves one with a sense of accomplishment yet a yearning for the story to continue. I have a newfound respect for Mark Twain, I have a newfound devotion for this great young saint, and I have yet another reason to say the rosary, receive the sacraments, and get down on my knees and thank God for his greatest Gift.</div></div>Joseph Skerjanechttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01615348335278322779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-349756428776523353.post-53328709845908471492010-12-04T21:36:00.000-07:002010-12-04T21:36:30.641-07:00Every Tongue Confess<div style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: transparent; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; outline-color: initial; outline-style: initial; outline-width: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 5px; padding-right: 6px; padding-top: 0px;"><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">Normally, when I go to Adoration, I sign up for the early morning hours when no one else is there like at 1:00 or 2:00 a.m. I like that it is just God and I. I say a few prayers, and then I say the Rosary and ask the Blessed Mother to pray for me that I may grow closer to her Son. And then, gulp, I sing - loud and off-key. Usually I first sing "Holy Mary, Gentle Woman." Again, to gain her assistance to grow closer, and because it reminds me of mom. Then I sing "How Great Thou Art." I am always humbled to tears when I think the Lord did not even spare his Son for us. That is how much He loves us. Usually at this point I pray some more, and then I wrap up the hour by reading the Bible.</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">This morning was different. For whatever reason, I chose to sing another hymn: "At the Name of Jesus." (At the name of Jesus, every knee shall bow...)</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">When I turned to read the Bible, I asked the Lord to show me what He needed to tell me. I asked the Holy Spirit to stir in me His gifts: knowledge, wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, piety, fear of the Lord. I then opened the Bible and found myself at Philippians - right at the beginning, so I read the introductory material. I did not know it is known as the "letter of joy." At any rate, I was drawn to a description that Paul had written a hymn, so that is where I decided to read - Philippians 2:5-11</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">"Who, though, he was in the form of God,</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">did not regard equality with God</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: normal;">something to be grasped.</span></div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">Rather, he emptied himself,</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">taking the form of a slave,</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">coming in human likeness,</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">and found human in appearance,</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;"><span _mce_style="white-space: pre;" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>he humbled himself,</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">becoming obedient to death,</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;"><span _mce_style="white-space: pre;" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>even death on a cross.</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">Because of this, God greatly exalted him</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">and bestowed on him the name</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">that is above every name,</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">that at the name of Jesus</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">every knee should bend,</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">of those in heaven and on earth and </div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;"><span _mce_style="white-space: pre;" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>under the earth,</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;"><span _mce_style="white-space: pre;" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>and every tongue confess that</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">Jesus Christ is Lord,</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">to the glory of God the Father."</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;">...the very words of the song, "At the Name of Jesus," that I sang earlier.</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;"><br />
</div><div style="line-height: 20px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: visible; overflow-y: visible; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; white-space: normal;"><br />
</div></div>Joseph Skerjanechttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01615348335278322779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-349756428776523353.post-33459513757656772932010-10-07T13:02:00.005-06:002010-11-10T10:09:03.579-07:00The Boat in the Storm<h3 class="post-title entry-title" style="color: #1b0431; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #29303b;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I went on a retreat in the mountains where the theme focused on projecting peace, so we read the story about the apostles when they got into boats to cross the Sea of Galilee. As they crossed, the weather turned ominous, and the storm threatened to capsize the boat. Of course, if a person doesn't know how to swim, this seems life-threatening. Meanwhile, Christ slept through it! I can sleep through much, but a storm in a small boat? They awoke Him and asked him why he was not worried that they would perish. </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #29303b;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He rebuked the storm: "Peace! Be Still." </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #29303b;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He then asked them, "Have you still no faith?" (Mark 4: 35-41)</span></span></span></h3><div class="post-body entry-content" style="color: #29303b; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We are so often doubtful and fearful in our "storms" in life, and we may wonder where we might find the Lord. When He helps, we are surprised, but then we remember He helped us through the last storm. Does he then ask us each time we worry or have doubt, "Have you still no faith?" I am reminded of the mustard seed.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Following that first session of the retreat, I had time for reflection, so I went to my room to settle in. On the chair was a book I brought along that my sister had given me, </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mary: Reflection of the Trinity and First-Fruits of Creation </span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">by Sr. Rosa Lombardi. I wondered if it addressed peace in any way. I found the following on the first page I turned to:</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"If you find yourself drifting in the sea of this world, if you seem to be sailing amid gales and tempests instead of walking on firm land, if you want not to be tossed by storms, then do not take your gaze from Mary, the gleaming star that shines over this vast sea of darkness, brilliant with merits and examples" (St. Bernard, Homily 2 on Missus est)</span></span></div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">An amazing coincidence? I think not. I then sat down to read the reflection from our session. It read, "Imagine yourself sitting with Jesus in that boat after it has been pulled up on the shore after the storm. Ask him how your heart may become more like His in projecting peace into your surroundings."</span></span></div></div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">God provided the answer before I read the question!</span></span></div></div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div></div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I now return to the boat. Jesus is always in the boat with us, but we forget. We let the chaos of storms be inside us, but we must be as Jesus, and project peace, "Peace! Be still!" I am then reminded of the words of a dear Sister of St. Francis, "God is not in the wind. He is in the gentle breeze." The storms are never storms if we allow ourselves to trust in Him with faith and prayer.</span></span></div></div></div>Joseph Skerjanechttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01615348335278322779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-349756428776523353.post-30852979095225724152010-09-27T21:42:00.003-06:002010-09-27T21:45:45.823-06:00Reloading with PenzuI used to write quite often back in the day with paper and pen--in cursive even. Then life happened. But because life happened, I'm finding myself in desperate need of writing...I stumbled upon Penzu last week and I haven't looked back. Actually, I stumbled upon 750words.com at <a href="http://www.fuelyourwriting.com/">http://www.fuelyourwriting.com/</a> through Evernote's Trunk, and that led me to Penzu.<br />
<br />
It's an online diary and personal journal that fits my techno-freak-geek love of digiworld. It's free, and for 20 bucks a year, I can upgrade to sweet enhancements including mobile journaling with my Blackberry (also through iPad, iPhone, or Android). Very clean, simple to use, and a very necessary part of life to unload to reload. Thanks a ton Alexander, Michael, Simon, and Alex..."If I didn't have puke breath, I'd kiss you, eh."Joseph Skerjanechttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01615348335278322779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-349756428776523353.post-57998156744287672922010-09-27T20:22:00.001-06:002010-09-27T22:11:03.632-06:00Evernote Gets Things Done<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Let me see if I can explain how I have applied Evernote to Getting Things Done. First of all, Evernote's mission is to remember everything. That is well and good, and according to GTD, those memories or things to remember are saved in a </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Reference"</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> notebook. I tag those files as work or personal, but I also tag them with tags specific to the item saved.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> GTD advocates NOT making a To Do List because they are too difficult to achieve. We are too inundated with life to expect to get our To Dos done. If it gets moved to the next day, it meets with things on a new To Do List. Thus, GTD advocates for a Next Actions file. The idea is to have a place to store our actions, and to maintain them. I have again tagged everything in the </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Next Action"</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> notebook in Evernote with one or more of the following tags recommended by GTD: </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Delegated, At Computer, At Home, At Office, At Work, Calls, Calls - Work, Errands, Read/Review</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, and I have three Agenda tags: one for my </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">boss</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, one for my </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">staff</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, and one for </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">other</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. I keep track of items I need to discuss with these people with these tags in the "Next Action" notebook. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Also, I put a number, starting with "0", in front of each tag, so my tags are in an order I like. Thus, they are listed numerically rather than by Evernote's default which is alphabetically. Lastly, if I have initiated a project, say, with a phone call, but I must leave a message, that particular action can be moved to my next notebook, </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Waiting On."</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Thus, when I am in my office at my computer, I pull up everything tagged with At Computer, and I can begin to chip away at those Next Action items within the time limit I have set for myselt. I can then move on to phone calls. Again, I bring up everthing tagged with Calls - Work. I can do the same thing at home. If something is more pressing, I can go to that particular action item and knock it out first. The idea behind GTD is more about knowing what needs to be done and having a place to keep it.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> The Next Action items are generated from a projects list. When I have a project, I save it to the </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Projects"</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> notebook in Evernote. A project is too big to be listed in the Next Actions notebook because each project has a series of specific actions that must be accomplished to complete that project. These more specific actions are what are placed in the Next Actions notebook.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Another GTD notebook I use is the </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Someday/Maybe"</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> notebook. Here I collect ideas I have for projects in the future or things I would like to accomplish. It may be for next year or for when I retire.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> The last GTD notebook is the </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Tickler."</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> This notebook is used for action items that must be done on a particular date. I have created </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">12 tags with each month</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> of the year and </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">31 tags for each day</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> of the month. I first used the tickler for things I would like to accomplish that day, but found it to be much like a ToDo List, and I was unable to accomplish all of them. The Tickler must be used for action items that must be accomplished on a date, or in case of the month, an action that has a deadline in that month. If it isn't used this way, it becomes as useless as the ToDo List.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I have also created two more notebooks specific to my industry that I use more as reference files. I have also thought about creating another Reference notebook for personal items to distinguish them from work, but I hate having a long notebooks list on the side of my screen, and the Tags work just fine for that task. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Lastly, because it feels good to accomplish tasks, I have a </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Completed Tasks"</span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> notebook I keep just to see what I accomplish in one day. If I were disciplined enough, I could add the spontaneous tasks to this file that come up that interrupt the "best laid plans of mice and men" for the day.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> All my notebooks are also numbered starting with "0", so they are listed in order that I prefer and can relate to. I think that is the key to GTD using Evernote. Set it up in a way that works for the individual. It takes discipline to follow, but my desk is much clearer, and I feel much better about what I need to accomplish. However, it must be reviewed weekly, or with some notebooks, daily, for it all to work.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<br />
<div><br />
</div>Joseph Skerjanechttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01615348335278322779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-349756428776523353.post-69367253215366427512010-08-30T09:30:00.003-06:002010-12-30T12:32:36.161-07:00"Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc" by Mark Twain<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;">"I like </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"><i>Joan of Arc</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"> best of all my books; and it is the best; I know it perfectly well. And besides, it furnished me seven times the pleasure afforded me by any of the others; twelve years of preparation, and two years of writing. The others need no preparation and got none." – </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"><cite style="font-style: normal; word-wrap: break-word;">Mark Twain</cite></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"><cite style="font-style: normal; word-wrap: break-word;"><br />
</cite></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 18px;"><cite style="font-style: normal; word-wrap: break-word;"></cite></span><br />
<div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><i>Few know Twain dedicated such great devotion to this book. I include pieces of his work</i>.</div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><br />
Consider this unique and imposing distinction. Since the writing of human history began, Joan of Arc is the only person, of either sex, who has ever held supreme command of the military forces of a nation at the age of seventeen.<br />
<br />
Joan of Arc, a mere child in years, ignorant, unlettered, a poor village girl unknown and without influence, found a great nation lying in chains, helpless and hopeless under an alien domination, its treasury bankrupt, its soldiers disheartened and dispersed, all spirit torpid, all courage dead in the hearts of the people through long years of foreign and domestic outrage and oppression, their King cowed, resigned to its fate, and preparing to fly the country; and she laid her hand upon this nation, this corpse, and it rose and followed her. She led it from victory to victory, she turned back the tide of the Hundred Years' War, she fatally crippled the English power, and died with the earned title of DELIVERER OF FRANCE, which she bears to this day.<br />
<br />
I was her playmate, and I fought at her side in the wars; to this day I carry in my mind, fine and clear, the picture of that dear little figure, with breast bent to the flying horse's neck, charging at the head of the armies of France, her hair streaming back, her silver mail plowing steadily deeper and deeper into the thick of the battle..I was with her to the end; and when that black day came whose accusing shadow will lie always upon the memory of the mitered French slaves of England who were her assassins, and upon France who stood idle and essayed no rescue, my hand was the last she touched in life.Joseph Skerjanechttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01615348335278322779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-349756428776523353.post-17952027911109487502010-08-12T23:12:00.006-06:002010-09-27T20:29:37.956-06:00Remembering A Living SaintAugust 12, 2010. Twenty years ago today was a Sunday. I know this because I was preparing myself for a road trip home to my house in Burlington where I was teaching and coaching. Two-a-days started the 13th (Monday), so I had to make the four-hour drive home to settle in and prepare for the season--and to prepare for my second year of teaching at Burlington High School.<br />
<br />
But I was very hesitant to go for good reason. You see, I was looking down into the beautiful brown eyes of a living saint. I was giving comfort to an Irish leprechaun with a fiery temper who had given her life for the goodness of anyone who wished to receive it. I was looking at the face of my mother on her last day on earth.<br />
<br />
She had been in the hospital for two weeks with complications as a result of a lifetime of faith in God whom she had prayed to that He would let her live to see her children grown. My mother battled rheumatic fever as a child, and as a result, weakened her heart.<br />
<br />
After bearing four children, three in three years, she developed a heart condition that left her near death. Following the birth of my little sister, she underwent three open-heart surgeries in four years in the late sixties and early seventies. She battled various surgeries following that over the years--from pacemaker replacement to colostomy surgery. All the while, she prayed she would live to see her children grow.<br />
<br />
Fast forward to May, 1990. My little sister graduated from college, and two months later, my mother found herself in the hospital--thank God, for the last time. For two weeks she struggled to hang on. I attended summer school, my little sister watched over her day after day, and we all took turns staying with her at night, since her medications made her delusional. Somehow, after all these years struggling in and out of hospitals, something was different. We didn't want to admit it, but it was.<br />
<br />
I looked down into her peaceful face and told my mom I'd skip coaching and stay with her. She said, "Joey, you need to move on with your life. I'll be okay. You go home."<br />
<br />
"Are you sure?"<br />
<br />
"Yes, my boy. You need to go."<br />
<br />
"I'll come back up Saturday and see you."<br />
<br />
She responded with a gentle smile, she raised her frail hand to my cheek, and said, "I love you."<br />
<br />
With that I left with all the confidence in the world that I would see her in six days.<br />
<br />
The four-hour drive home was not easy, but my dog Zach kept me company as I thought of my sickly mother and the tasks before me.<br />
<br />
When I reached home, I called my dad at the hospital to see how Mom was doing. A nurse answered the phone at the station, and was caught off guard. She stumbled trying to find words, but she finally put me on hold and suggested I talk to Dad.<br />
<br />
It happened. <i>Just </i>then...it happened.<br />
<br />
"How is she, Dad?" Silence. A choking comment...<br />
<br />
"It's over...I said, 'Sugs, I'm going to leave the room...just let go. You've suffered enough.'"<br />
<br />
Lulu Skerjanec was a living saint. She realized early on she was blessed with only a short time here on earth. We didn't know this, but she did. She lived every syllable as if it were her last in the way God has called us all to live.<br />
<br />
She reserved nothing for herself, and she gave everything to everyone. She prayed constantly. Her relationship with the Blessed Mother is one we can only imagine. She prayed the Rosary at least once per day (some days many), and she prayed for everyone she knew as she did.<br />
<br />
Lulu Skerjanec asked only for a simple life on earth, so she might live a life of eternity in Heaven with the Holy Father.<br />
<br />
How fitting that she was buried August 15, 1990--the Solemnity of the Assumption of Mary. May God bless her especially this day, and may He bless all who knew her--a living saint.Joseph Skerjanechttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01615348335278322779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-349756428776523353.post-47295592368096150832010-06-25T07:38:00.001-06:002010-09-27T22:00:14.449-06:00The Atlas Offensive<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My wife and I were talking the other day how as human critters, we criticize others on a regular basis. Why? He became man that we might fully understand what it means to love one another and to live a life worthy of heaven. He gave us our faith that we might share His love with the rest of the world--forever. However, He also knew we would be persecuted for it. I, again, question why.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If we are all brothers and sisters in Christ, why are we compelled to bring each other down? When a person, an organization, a religion, or--you fill in the blank--is blessed with God's gifts, for whatever reason, it seems to be human nature to take the offensive and take or break that special gift or grace from God.</span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">In <i>Atlas Shrugged</i> Ayn Rand explored an interesting question. What would happen to the world if all those who work hard and are successful (I would call God's grace), who are also attacked because of their success, decided to disappear? What would happen if those who hold up the world had had enough of the criticism, and decided to let the world go on without them? We can only imagine. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am reminded of good friend of mine who had a very athletically talented brother. All through high school, in every town he played in, the fans booed him--just because of talent. Coaches, even, would use psychological tricks to try to take him out of his game. He became a target because of talent. Ironically, he was a very good person, and would have given the shirt off his back to anyone who needed it. But all that took a toll on him, and before he could share his talent with the world (he would have been pro), he took his own life.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I suppose we get so competitive, we want to make sure everyone is on the same playing field following the same rules. Mostly, I think it comes from jealousy. When someone has been given a gift from God, others want it for themselves, but if we have faith and patience, God will bless us with our own gifts--in His time and in His way.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Long story short, if a person is blessed with a gift from God, he finds himself at the top, so he becomes the target. It is just a fact of life. It is the American Way, unfortunately, whether in athletics, faith, leadership, or otherwise. Instead of celebrating the gifts of others, we pick them apart, and I am sad to say along the path of life I have fallen into that myself. We can't take it back, so we learn to forgive or be forgiven and move on with life. We can only hope it is for the goodness of mankind and for the glory of God.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thus, if God blesses an individual with a gift, that gift is a blessing for everyone. While it is natural for Man to criticize that blessing, it is still a gift from God, and the criticism is that individual's albatross that must be endured. However, we should perceive it not as an albatross, but as a blessing because of a blessing--and Christ prepared us for it more than 2000 years ago.</span></div>Joseph Skerjanechttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01615348335278322779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-349756428776523353.post-38948832528041456842010-06-14T17:29:00.002-06:002010-09-27T20:31:54.537-06:00"Powning" Tom SawyerlandSo I'm painting a wall in my basement today, and my second son, "McFly" who is 14, comes downstairs and asks if he can go hang out with his friend Daniel-son (spoken with an Oriental accent). I say, "Sure. Although, you can always help me paint." His response was classic teenalian, "I don't know how." I told him he would learn if he would help. Then in one of my best accents, sarcasm, I said, "But you'd probably just 'Tom Sawyer' it anyway.<br />
<br />
His response: "Dad, if there were a Tom Sawyerland, I'd 'pown' it." (Teenalian cross of "pound" and "own" and pronounced poned as in loaned.) In other words, he would be the best at getting others to do things for him. He's right.<br />
<br />
You see, my second son is a natural charismatic. (God help us it never goes to his head.) He can get anyone to do anything for him, and they will thank him for it no matter how miserable it might be. God has truly smiled lavishly on this one. One time one of his best friends (he travels in a herd, so you can never say "best" friend) was at the house. They wanted to go hang with another friend. I told him he had to clean the counter and sink in the bathroom first. In classic McFly fashion, he proceeded to clean the sink in the worst manner possible. His friend, "Touk" as I affectionately call him, saw what he was doing and was appalled.<br />
<br />
He said, "You're doing it all wrong. Let me show you." I couldn't believe my eyes: Touk began cleaning the sink to a shine Aurora herself could not muster. (Later when revealing this story to Touk's mother, she was absolutely at a loss, for he had never cleaned so well at home.) McFly began to smile that s*#t-eating grin that makes him so irresistibly and classically McFly, and I could only grin and think, "How does he do that?"<br />
<br />
What makes matter worse, not only does <i>he </i>know he's Tom Sawyer, everyone else does too..and they <i>still</i> don't mind being "powned" by Twain's fence painter! (Though his three brothers are much the wiser.)<br />
<br />
So as for helping me paint the basement, McFly "powned" Tom Sawyerland...and I finished it myself.Joseph Skerjanechttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01615348335278322779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-349756428776523353.post-89239391428051419792010-06-13T23:18:00.000-06:002010-06-13T23:18:26.377-06:00Getting Things DoneIt seems the best laid plans of mice and men often go astray. I, like many others, am constantly searching for better, more efficient ways to be organized. To get a handle on the stuff of life. Using Evernote has been a lifesaver, and I am still discovering new ways to use it. I recently joined the trend, and downloaded <i>Getting Things Done</i> from Amazon to my Blackberry to see what David Allen has to offer. While I have only scratched the surface, I have been dabbling with some of his ideas in Evernote.<br />
<br />
While projects have their own file, and actions lists do as well, I am finding it difficult understanding how he distinguishes the difference between his Action Lists and a To Do list--other than one's resolve to take action on those actions. It will be interesting to see how his philosophy unfolds.Joseph Skerjanechttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01615348335278322779noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-349756428776523353.post-42363758201604730132009-12-24T02:13:00.005-07:002010-09-27T22:11:57.415-06:00The Big BillIt seems no one can escape the big bill. What is more, the big bill has the weight to go straight back to the House from the Senate to over ride our Michigan hero's valiant efforts in the House. (Casey is a whole 'nother story.) The health care bill has merit, but the abortion language MUST GO. A majority of America does not want it, yet the Democrats seem to turn their deaf ear upon her.<br />
<br />
What is more dangerous is the size of the bill. This can only translate into trouble. Our Founding Fathers are probably turning in their graves to think that that which they desperately attempted to limit, has now tied the hands of the local-leveled governments. Hopefully, the states will reclaim their right to power the executive branch has stolen. I digress.<br />
<br />
A choice was already made when the couple disrobed. After that, it is Mother Nature. A life has begun. Nurture it, and give him or her up for adoption. Do not kill because you want a second choice...and to support a bill to pay for the abortion with the hard-earned wages of Americans, most of whom choose life, is simply selfish!<br />
<br />
Too much to say in one blog, but there it is. The first response to a riddle.Joseph Skerjanechttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01615348335278322779noreply@blogger.com0