My Dirty Finger

My Dirty Finger

Sometimes it's hard to know where to draw the line. Sometimes it is obvious: this is where Louisiana ends and Texas begins; this is my stuff, that is yours; nakedness is appropriate in your own bathroom, but not in the sporting goods department at Wal-Mart! Other times it is less clear: the exact point at which a normally accepted behavior becomes no longer acceptable; the specific point in time when you officially become old; how much of your personal life do you really need to share on a social networking sight?

Setting all of that aside, I press on and assume that I can spin this yarn and not cross any lines, especially that of good taste!

Suffice it to say that I got one of my fingers REALLY dirty a few days ago. Have you ever changed a diaper, or cleaned up after a sick animal, or had a bathroom mishap of some sort - think along those lines ... REALLY filthy! Okay 'nough said.

I, of course, immediately, thoroughly washed my hands. A few minutes later, after completing my task, I washed them again, especially the particularly affected finger.

The funny thing is, with the memory of what had happened still fresh in my mind, I still felt like it was dirty! I still felt like I could not use that finger and carefully avoided doing so.

Finally, I washed it a third time. That's when the thought distinctly and clearly popped into my mind - stick that finger in your mouth ... yes, that finger!

Me: What!?

The little voice: You washed it, right?

Me: Yes ....

Voice: With soap and water, right?

Me: Yes ...

Voice: So you trust the cleaning agent and you trust the person that did the scrubbing?

Me: Well ... yes ...


Voice: Then put the finger in your mouth! You either need to scrap that cleaner and find one you actually trust, or act according to what you know to be true.

Sometimes there is a logic disconnect, and our actions are not consistent with what we say we believe, or what we say we know. That finger looked clean, smelled clean, and was indeed sufficiently clean enough to do anything that needed to be done by a finger. All that prevented me from using it was my memory of it's uncleanness.

Now, I know that all of you super spiritual people are way ahead of me here, but let me spell it out so that the less spiritual amongst us can catch up and have their “aha moment” too.

The bad news: all have sinned. The Good News: If you have confessed, asked forgiveness, and repented - you are clean. If you still see yourself in all of your former filth and believe that God could never use you; then you either need to renounce Him as your cleaner and Jesus' blood as the cleaning agent and find something that works; or act according to what you know to be true - He has cleaned you. And only you, dwelling on your past filthiness, can prevent Him from doing marvelous things through you.

Now, I wonder what deep spiritual lesson I can learn from that rancid smell coming from the refrigerator … it probably has something to do with expiration dates ...

blessed union

i gaze into your eyes
and time stands still

our blessed union is
mystical
sacred
eternal

touching the depths of soul and spirit
and leaving me whole

Hosyamommanem?

I love my Cajun heritage. I remember seeing a Cajun-English dictionary a while back. It contained the following entry:

Hosyamommanem?

which roughly translated is "How is your mother and the rest of the family?"

My job takes me to many places where I can fully experience my native culture. Down in Fourchon Yesterday I met a quintessential South Louisiana character. He gave me the following instructions:

Goroun, deyawletchoo in dare.

Luckily, I speak the language and knew exactly what he meant. I went around to the back, and they let me in there.

Waiting Has Given Way ... to Waiting

Waiting ...

Patience is a virtue.

There have been countless songs and poems written about the wonders of romantic love, the pain of love gone wrong, and the longing of unrequited love. There are not, to my knowledge, a whole lot of songs about patiently waiting for love.

Those of us who are old enough, and have been Christians long enough, may remember Dallas Holms' song from the late seventies, "Worth the Waiting", but that wasn't about romantic love. Tom Petty correctly sang that the waiting is the hardest part. Carly Simon sang about anticipation, but if memory serves, she could hardly wait until that night! Solomon in his passionate "Song of Songs" speaks of not awaking love until it's proper time. But, who listens to that guy?

When I found myself divorced in early 2003 the thought of waiting six years to remarry did not seem remotely possible. Honestly, the thought of going even days and weeks without sex seemed difficult enough! Now, six years later, on the verge of finally remarrying, I come to you to repeat and venerate an old trusty, tried and true cliché: good things are worth waiting for.

Not to brag, but I could have had my choice of many really nice women. But, there is a lot of difference between a good woman and the right woman. Far too many people settle for a good man or woman instead of having the patience to find the right one. And no wonder, it can take many years and there is no guarantee that you will ever find them. Meanwhile, all of society looks at you and wonders if there is something wrong with you, or if you are secretly gay.

Every day someone would ask me "So, are you seeing anybody yet?" Every day for over five years I answered "No." That little ritual grew quite tiresome.

Passing on the good to possibly gain the better later on is risky. As I stated earlier, there are no guarantees. Also, you can get caught in the trap of always wondering if you could do better, even after you have found the right one. Still, in my case at least, I can tell you that it was more than worth waiting for the right one.

Now comes the equally hard part.

One season of waiting gives way to the next.

Once having found "the one", and fallen madly in love, and felt a transcendent oneness that is emotionally and spiritually singular, it is extremely difficult to wait until after some ceremony to consummate this oneness. The flesh screams "I need it!" The emotions feel that because you are so close it must soon follow. Only the spirit washed in the water of The Word brings wisdom and stands to contradict the other voices. Only two in complete agreement can resist that kind of temptation!

"Fire in the fireplace is beautiful .... but, fire in the curtains ... is a disaster!"
Tony Evans on sex inside and outside of marriage.

If you ask me one day I may tell you the whole tale of how we managed to wait. It includes chaperones, prayer, group activities, and saying goodnight in the Firebird's front seats, or as we now call them "the chastity seats", instead of being alone at my place or hers.

With all of my heart I hope to, and intend to bring glory to my God, set a good example for my children, and ensure decades of great sex within my marriage; by waiting until my wedding night to enjoy that which is God-designed for enjoyment within marriage.

The Silence Of The Blog

It can be irritating at times. It can be a blessing beyond belief. Such is the artistic temperament. It is an often misunderstood, sometimes under-appreciated, yet always formidable set of strengths and weaknesses.

At times I have cursed it. It has brought me much pain and sorrow. And yet, over the years, through much hard won growth and wisdom, I have finally fully embraced it. For it has also brought me joys that only those blessed to posses it can fathom. A true double-edged sword, it allows those who posses it, or perhaps rather are possessed by it, to fully feel the soaring heights of delight, but also the soul crushing depths of pain.

In my case that duality has not been as forthcoming in the expression as it has been in the feeling. While I feel the depths and the heights equally, it seems that the overwhelming majority of my artistic expression has centered on the depths.

This is most unfortunate!

Lately I have been captivated by a bliss I have never known brought on by the love of a woman such as I have never known. Yet with all of my supposed gift for artistic expression, sizeable vocabulary, and penchant for writing about my life experiences, my blog has grown eerily silent. I cannot seem to give voice to this rapture that I feel. I cannot seem to find the right words. I have kept my joy as private as my pain was public.

I do offer this defense: I have been busy with the more important matter - the matter of building a strong, healthy, God-centered relationship that will stand the test of time and last for a lifetime. In the mean time, know that God is good and He has led me into a wonderful season of joy and beauty. Hopefully, as time goes by, I will have more joy to share and be more fully able to share it.

Engaged

OK, for all of my friends, family, acquaintances, fans, critics, and curious onlookers alike, here is "the scoop".

After six years of singleness I am about to marry the woman I have been looking for most of my post-pubescent life. Her name is Anita. We have moved slowly from acquaintances to friends to good friends to sweethearts, and we are now on the brink of a lifetime commitment.

God is so good. I feel like such a fool for ever doubting His plan for my life, and for ever doubting that He would indeed give me the deepest desires of my heart.

It is a rare and precious thing to meet someone with whom you are equally yoked in every area of life - intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually. This is the very kind of closeness that I have longed for all of these years. It brings me almost inexpressible joy to be able to say that this oneness is soon to be celebrated and consummated.

We are to be wed in the prayer garden at the future home of Living Word Church on February the fourteenth at ten o'clock in the morning. All are welcome to celebrate with us and witness the sealing of our marriage covenant. It will however, be a brief ceremony with no seating provided and no reception following.

Whether you attend or not, please pray for our union, that it would be always strong and enduring and bring glory to The One who is Love.

In Him,

Todd