The Little Evangelist...

We're in the process of handing out DVDs to kids in our SRE classes this Easter, and yesterday I explained why we were doing it so that Eldest could understand. Some kids, I explained to him, didn't know anything about Jesus or what Easter was about, so the DVDs were going out to help them understand.

Then last night, I had to take the kids to night church as their babysitting arrangements fell through. On the way out, Eldest grabbed one of his cuddly toys.

"I'm taking Monkey tonight, Mummy, because he doesn't know anything about Jesus. Lambie knows about Jesus, but Monkey doesn't."

On the way home in the car, Eldest reassured me:

"It's OK Mummy. Monkey's heard about Jesus now."

It's funny 'cos it's true (and not just for the US)

The Onion - that satirical news organisation that I've sometimes laughed at, sometimes cringed and run away from - has produced this gem recently:

Everything taking too long

It's a well-written piece laughing at our inability to be patient in the modern world.

Quite humorous. 

Note: Some of the Onion's site content can be offensive, so be cautious about your browsing at this site.

.

Oxymoron of the day...

I lied, but I'm honest, says Einfeld.

Um...

Otis Archives #2 - It's that time of year again...

I don't know whether you can see the detail of this graph, but it's an epidemiological record of the number of deaths from influenza, two forms of pneumonia and acute bronchitis between 1889 and 1919. Note the huge spike at the bottom from the 1918 flu epidemic. Scary times, those days.

It's interesting seeing the seasonal change. This is a northern hemisphere graph, so there are increases every winter.

Otis Archives #1 - why we should immunise

There's a flickr photo collection of historical archives from the US National Museum of Health and Medicine that has recently been published. It provides an insight into the devastations of war, the efforts of medical services going back to the US Civil war times. It ranges from interesting to very disturbing, but if you have a strong stomach (or a clinical eye), then it might be something you'd like to look at.

One of the things I found was the picture below, and it reminded me of how far we've come. 

In a former life (i.e. pre-baby), I worked as an immunisation project officer for a short while. Nowadays, being in my demographic (middle class, female, tertiary educated) is actually a risk factor for conscientious objection (i.e. not getting kids immunized). But let's not forget what we are protecting our children from:

The picture above is actually quite tame, but shows the devastating effects that vaccine-preventable disease can cause. Iron lungs (special respirators to keep people alive) were a part of life in my parent's generation, when Polio was a real risk for many children. Thankfully now its incidence is limited to a few small pockets on the planet. Health workers are working hard to eliminate it completely.

But the case isn't so rosy for other vaccine-preventable diseases. This year, a five-month-old baby died from the vaccine-preventable Pertussis (Whooping Cough). She lived in an area where a significant proportion of parents are choosing not to vaccinate. Pertussis is on the rise again, and I'm not going to post the disturbing images of babies "Whooping". But it's awful. I hope none of you ever have to experience it. Seriously.

 As vaccines are successful, the chances of contracting the disease reduce to the point where it then becomes just as likely to experience a side effect as to actually get the disease (i.e. very, very, very, small). But as recent events are showing, it only takes a short period of non-vaccinations for serious diseases to make a comeback.

Let's not go there, shall we?

Edit: for more information on the diseases that we immunise against, and why it's important, check out the Immunise Australia Program website.

Embracing your inner geek, #74 - *My* kind of restaurant

OK, this really is one for the gadget freaks. There's a restaurant in London called Inamo, which uses a funky projector and touchpad system to take the dining experience to a whole new level of "interactivity". The report comes from Wired.com's Gadget Lab:

Those spaceship-style things on the ceiling are projectors, which beam the images down onto the tables below. Instead of a menu, the images of potential food choices are beamed onto your plate. You can use the menu to select the particular colour "ambience" you want beamed onto your table.

After you order, you can use the touchpad to play games like battleship or watch your meal being cooked on a webcam from the kitchen. 

When your meal is finished, you can use the touchpad to ask for your bill, split the bill, and even call a taxi. 

It's a fully geek experience, yet incredibly cool at the same time...

 

Shame

I've been noticing that there are two main forms of "repentance" in my dealings lately. 

In the first form, people will often speak phrases like "I'm so ashamed," "what will people think of me?" "I'll never be able to look ... in the face again." "Now everyone knows, they're going to hate me."

This kind of "repentance" isn't repentance at all. It's sorrow at being caught. It's more concerned with public opinion than with a true apprehension of wrongdoing. At heart, people aren't really sorry for their actions. They're sorry that people found out about it. It's the "worldly sorrow" that Paul talks about in 2 Corinthians 7:10. 

Worldly sorrow stubbornly holds on to the "I'm right" while saying whatever is necessary to get people to look away. Then they can get on with their behaviour again. "As a dog returns to its vomit, so a fool repeats his folly." (Proverbs 26:11) Not a pretty picture, is it?

The second type of repentance is when we actually admit that we have done something wrong, and truly want to change direction. This kind of repentance is true repentance. It leads us back to Jesus - to see that we are all sinners before God, but that Jesus died to save us from our sins, so that we could live a new life with him. "Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow leads to death." 2 Cor 7:10

I often have to ask myself the same question when I slip: Am I sorry for what I've done, or am I just worried that people are going to find out about it?

Thanks, but...

The other day, I had to conduct some rare transacting in a bank branch with a teller. Midway through the process, the teller stopped and said,

"Oh, you've been preapproved for a credit card. Would you like me to fix that up now for you?"

Uh... no thank you.

Credit cards, despite my best desire to be disciplined and careful, end in disaster for me. Not that I've been put in desperate circumstances like some who manage to rack up $25 000 or something. But psychologically, it somehow seems to become like a second form of income. Don't have enough money in the bank? Just charge it. 

 Then there are the monthly fees. The last time we had a credit card (quite a few years ago now), we usually had a grand two days between the bill arriving and requiring payment before the interest-free period expired. Needless to say, we began to receive interest charges.

Credit cards work for people who are extremely self-disciplined, able to calculate risks on the spot at a greater speed, and able to pay off bills the instant they arrive. For myself, I'm not completely undisciplined, but I still benefit from having some external limits. A Debit card only allows you to spend as much as you have, and doesn't fool you into thinking that you've just been given a lovely present of $30 000 or more.

And if the money isn't there? Just don't buy it. I probably don't need it anyway.

This just about sums up my day...

This poem was over at Girl Talk today, and I thought you might get a kick out of it too...

If You Give A Mom A Muffin

Original Author Unknown

If you give a mom a muffin, 
She'll want a cup of coffee to go with it. 
She'll pour herself some. 
Her three-year-old will spill the coffee. 
She'll wipe it up. 
Wiping the floor, she'll find dirty socks. 
She'll remember she has to do laundry. 
When she puts the laundry in the washer, 
She'll trip over boots and bump into the freezer. 
Bumping into the freezer will remind her she has to plan for supper. 
She will get out a pound of hamburger. 
She'll look for her cookbook ("101 Things To Do With a Pound of Hamburger"). 
The cookbook is sitting under a pile of mail. 
She will see the phone bill, which is due tomorrow. 
She will look for her checkbook. 
The check book is in her purse that is being dumped out by her two-year-old. 
She'll smell something funny. 
She'll change the two year old's diaper. 
While she is changing the diaper, the phone will ring. 
Her five-year-old will answer and hang up. 
She'll remember she wants to phone a friend for coffee. 
Thinking of coffee will remind her that she was going to have a cup. 
And chances are... 
If she has a cup of coffee, 
Her kids will have eaten the muffin that went with it.

A little bit of unnecessary excitement...

Sundays are busy for us. They're one of our "big days" in the week, if you like. So this morning began as usual with me getting up to begin the process of getting the kids ready, and putting together the last minute pile of things for my lesson. As usual, I let the dogs out first so they could do their morning sniff, and turned to the kids. They had some dominoes out, and wanted me to sit down and play with them. I thought we had enough time for a little game.

Twenty minutes later, my husband came into the living room and opened the curtain.

"The gate's open. Where are the dogs?"

Sudden Chaos.

Our smallest dog is known for her silly habit of going on aimless runs and getting herself lost. Our largest dog is known for his silly habit of following her out. They had a twenty minute head start. We had an hour to get ready for church.

While hubby raced out in the car to do laps of the streets, I tried to concentrate on getting the kids their breakfast. I raced out into the lane, whistling and calling. Then I raced back into the house, buttering the toast. Out into the front yard. Back to put the weet-bix in the microwave. Into the lane. Back to get the juice.

Hubby came back. No dogs. "How long ago did you let them out?"

Too long.

I prayed. "Lord, please bring the dogs back before church." I had horrible mental images of our bigger dog sitting next to the flattened carcass of the silly one. She has no road sense at all.

The kids were happily eating their breakfast, oblivious to the panicked looks on their parents' faces. Hubby went out in the car again, looking in another direction. With a twenty minute head start, they could be anywhere. The bush. The highway. Someone else's backyard. I paced.

I thought about the dog bowls. The sound of clanking them together often brought the puppies running. Perhaps that might help. I went outside and picked them up, walking around to the front, whistling and clanking. A car pulled into our yard.

I walked slowly around to see if John had found the dogs yet. Time was running out, and we were going to have to give up the search to get ready for our weekly programs.

But it wasn't my husband in the driveway. It was a couple who lived across the other side of town to us. They were smiling.

"We found the dogs. They're inside. They were running around on [blank] street."

We still had half an hour to get ready for church.

Oh, and the reason for the open gate? We found an almost-finished beer bottle discarded on the ground next to the fence. It was Saturday night, after all.