Religion

I am a religious person...but so is Ted Kennedy...so what differentiates us? In the newspapers, on the TV, and in conversation it seems that religious people are only Christians; and they seem intent upon forcing their religion upon the rest of an unsuspecting populous.

Websters defines religion as a "particular faith system and worship." And so, yes, I as a Christian am Religious. My life is spent in worship to the Creator of the Universe. However, since the humanist-leftist-neo-Darwinists feel that Christians are the only folks who are religious and are also the only folks who wish to impose their religion upon others, we need to take a moment here and call a spade a spade. The humanist-leftist-neo-Darwinist is just as religious as I and he is bent upon forcing his religion upon me. In fact, he is so zealous about forcing it upon me that he even does it with my own tax money in the Public School system, through legislation, and through political action.

The difference exists in Truth. The reason that the humanist-leftist-neo-Darwinists are working so hard to suppress the Christian Religion is that it alone stands as Truth. No other belief system requires so little of a person, and yet so much, to recieve salvation. As in other religions where salvation is dependent upon the work of the individual, Christianity calls for the individual to submit, admit they have sinned, and ask for forgiveness. Such submission is not acceptable in our culture. It is within Christianity that the humanists fear, for in Christianity life is sacred, things of this world do not matter, Truth exists, boundaries are present, Grace and Mercy abound, and death has been conquered. If I were a humanist-leftist-neo-Darwinist and relying upon my own goodness to achieve Nirvana, I would want Christians to shut up as well.

down by the Frio

On Martin Luther King Jr's birthday, we celebrated on the Frio River, first running long distances of road winding through the Hill Country, eating large amounts of panckaes, and finally getting down to the river, where Aunt Paula suggested we launch one of their kayaks to test Herbie's sea legs. Eric took him out first, then I followed up with my first ride in the slender water craft. Even with cool, cloudy skies, the paddling is great fun, and now we have to find sea kayaks to take out on the Bay!

I'm in the club

Last night was my first time attendance of the Officer Spouse Club meeting of Eric's flight training squadron. It was a perfect time to join the large group of women, in an evening of wine tasting; where one would normally be shy and self conscious (of the shirt one changed three times before showing up), the wild animal feelings of self strangulation in the midst of a crowd of new faces are calmed with the sweet Resling or a more heavily grounding Merlot. Next time it'll be waffle baking.

glaciers in his heart are melting

If you've never seen Ice Age, now's the time, and you will see the essense of doggie animalistic terror written upon the face of Scrat, the prehistoric squirrel. Scrat is the screen-living representation of human frustration. Both Herbie and his new dad are experts in the expression of this wide-mouthed Scrat-scream, since both their lives are filled with little daily frustrations.

Tonight was the night that Herbie crossed the line of Scratty new house pet to playfellow: he's already chasing, leaping and catching bones midair, reducing the king and queen of the house to floor-roiling packmates.

the Secret Life of Herbie

At heart, he's a mild mannered, pleasant sort of little man, who asks only for his slippers at bedtime and a biscuit to top off his tank.
However, the trying transition between households has altered his life clock and upset his worldview. His former playpen of the great outdoors is now a threatening Hazardous Front Line upon which he must keep on red alert, translated to: tail between the legs and run to mommy (who's on the other end of the leash).
To help him overcome outdoor people and Other Dog terrors, he gets carried one-way on walks and then let down again to race his way back home.
It is, after all, a useful thing to know the way home when caught out in the wild world.

We've got him

Herbie came home with us yesterday! He's a wild boar coloured, four month old Wirehaired Dachshund. To see pictures of the breed, go to raydachs.com and you can see his mom ("Goose").