We are now about a month removed from Cee’s B-day festivities. Her uncles decided a great gift for their 2 year old niece would be a fish tank. I guess they wanted to teach her about death and loss at an early age. We started with six small goldfish. It’s never a good commentary on an animal’s longevity when they are sold for less than $.25. Basically any transaction that requires you to wait for change on your quarter is not a long-term purchase.

Alright so we have our fish, and sure enough within 48 hours our six-pack is thinning fast. We were down to 3 fish quickly. Actually we had 2 normal fish and one suspiciously large fish. Cee named one Messy since he was yellow with large brown specs on his back (note the masculine pronoun is only used because of the patriarchal nature of our society and not because I check any of our gold fish, so get in the kitchen and deal with it…also note that I understand I will likely sleep on the couch for that last comment…alas). Messy had made it to the final three but it was clear he would not make it any further. We were down to 2.

Perhaps, the only thing sadder than Cee looking for Messy among the 2 remaining fish was when she would pull Tiff or I to the empty tank after all the fish had died to show us “the fishys”. With only two remaining once one “died” (there was never a body found and big fish was getting still larger) the other was floating within a day. Like a excerpt from “Where the Red Fern Grows” they needed each other (again note it would have been the version where one dog eats the other which I as remember it would be a departure from the original text). It was depression, or we didn’t feed them enough, or we fed them too much, or looked at them wrong, seriously they’re fish.

So determined to make the fish tank a success we went to Pet Smart over the weekend and bought some more fish. There are 2 identical orange ones we’ve named Fred and George, and a white and orange on that looks cool but doesn’t yet have a name. Tiff will name him if Cee doesn’t get to it first. On a scary note, while at the Pet Smart Cee was tickled to death over the guinea pigs. Maybe one day we’ll move up mammals, but not this day.

 

 

Just a quick experience to share. This past weekend we went to dinner with family. There is a new pizza place in Macon, and let’s just say if you’re interested in trying it you will want to go ASAP, cause it won’t be around for long.

It all started when we ordered breadsticks, and even though the place has only been open about a week they’ve taken the breadsticks off the menu. Ok, that happens, so we ordered the “homemade” mozzarella sticks. When they came out a few minutes later I took a bite and found the center not only cold but still frozen! Things are not looking good, but we’re there so we’ll stick it out. The waiter was very nice about it. Then he came back with good news and bad news (which by the way is always bad news). He told us the pizza was done but it had stuck to the pan and when they tried to get it off it tore so they were remaking it. They were nice enough to bring us out what was left of our sad pizza.

At the end of the night the food was pretty good, and it was an interesting evening that we won’t forget anytime soon. I guess in that situation you can be a jerk and make a deal about it or just laugh it off and know that God is everywhere.

“If a tree falls in my yard and no one moves it, is it really there if I ignore it.”

I really hate doing yard work. Most visitors to my home can attest to that. “Let my green grass grow,” (spoke in my best Ten Commandments voice) that’s my lawn care philosophy. It makes me feel a little bad that 2 of my 3 neighbors keep their lawns in perfect condition (for one it borders on an obsession), but then I go inside and close the door and don’t think about it again. Selfish, yes, but yard work combines heat, allergies, and nastiness with the fact that it will need to be cut again in a week or two, and as appealing as that is, I’ll pass.

But I digress. This is the story of a boy and his tree, his three trees. The boy had a sick tree, a sad tree, and a mute tree, and also a hippo. Wait…there is only one tree, moving on. In the early hours of Mother’s Day 2008 we were awoken by a horrible storm and a loud crash. Upon inspection all seemed well until a flash of lightning showed me a tree that had fallen in our yard. Amazingly it fell in the only direction where it could do no damage to our home, garage, or fence. We knew we had been very lucky, but as the total damage became known we had no idea how lucky. There was no hope of getting a tree service as they were swamped with more critical matters.

Tiff’s dad was nice enough to come over and cut up the fallen pieces of the trunk. He even cut down the last 15 or so feet of tree still standing. So I was now the proud owner of 20-30 large pine logs, plus an endless maze of limbs and branches. Haul away is of course much easier when you live next to woods, so I began trying to move the pieces away. I began with the lower trunk pieces since they were already close to the back of the yard, but they were far too big and the best I could do was roll them to the back of the fence. The more I moved the more discouraged I became because rolling logs may move them but they are still in the yard and I knew I would soon be out of strength. So I left to the job with the intension of returning to it with friends.

A month passed, then 2, 6, a year, a year and a half, and still there was a tree in the yard. One day while I was trying to cut around the tree I started breaking off limbs so I could cut closer. I carried the limbs into the woods. After moving the limbs I noticed a lot of the pieces of trunk towards the top of the tree were quite small and I easily moved them as well. I kept carrying away pieces, through to the middle of the tree where it did take a good effort to move those pieces, but in a surprisingly short amount of time I was all the way down to the large pieces at the bottom. Well I decided I’m not leaving 2 logs in the middle of the yard no matter how big they are. So with a lot of effort, I knew I’d regret in the next 24 hours, I got the last pieces up and into the woods. The tree was gone!

Since my tree moving experience I’ve been stuck on a truth. We are all called by God to do more than we can possibly do, but God promises to provide. So we enthusiastically jump into our calling and all too often we see how impossible is truly seems. Frustration and feelings of being overwhelmed soon paralyze our mission. We can become angry wondering why God would send us into something that we couldn’t accomplish or we beat ourselves up over our failure. The truth is even the smallest bit of faith can command a mountain to move, and there are times where God moves in awesome and unmistakable ways, but most of the time it’s not the faith to watch the mountain move but it’s the faith that God will provide and protect while we move a stone at a time.

We are so concerned with the parts of our job that seem undoable and we pray that those will get done. When many times if we would do everything we can do those undoables would seem much more manageable, and before you know your faith has moved a mountain, or a tree. God is Everywhere.