The state of an offering

Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane poured out his heart to Father.

Paul in Philippians writes that he himself is being poured out as a fragrant offering.

My dad has entered his Garden of Gethsemane. He is being poured out like a fragrant offering.

5:30 in the morn'

I was supposed to be at work at 4:30 a.m., but at 4:23 my boss calls and says "the network guys are delayed, so just come in about 5 am."

Since I had a few minutes to spare I talked to my parents for a little and then sat in the recliner with a cup of coffee, closed my eyes and meditated for a while. Re-read some of Paul's stuff. I really appreciate his "no confidence in the flesh" memorandum. And furthermore, I appreciate the depth that he delves into in regards to "wanting to know Christ and the POWER of his resurrection." But he doesn't stop there. He continues with wanting, hoping, desiring to "share with Christ in his suffering" to the point of becoming like Christ in his death. Paul has the idea that all of what he wants from Christ in not vain, but rather, there is a major purpose. He sees all of this to his benefit, providing him with the ability to "attain to the resurrection from the dead." That's some really cool and powerful stuff.

Co-workers

My co-worker Jason just peeked his head out of his cube and says "Erik reports that you farted yesterday." I replied with "you missed the show, man." Wow! What a show it was. For most guys and a few girls, there is just something really funny about farts. Especially the ones that clear house!

Yesterday, I cleared house.

As I sat in my cube, the arby's lunch I had was -- let's just say -- it was having a gaseous affect on me. So, discreetly and not thinking much about it, I farted. A few seconds later I smell the most hideous smell. The smell was funky!

I wasn't sure what to do...I mean, I was a little embarrassed. So, my bright idea was if I walk away, the fart will follow and hopefully not bother my co-workers. I was wrong. After I came back to my cube, and a few minutes had passed, my boss (Erik) says in a inquisitive manner, "hey, um...Ramon, did you uhm....do something?" Looking at him with a raised eyebrow, I examined his face and realized I had been caught. The look on his face was priceless.

No longer able to contain myself, I burst out in laughter. But not just any old laughter. I'm talking about the gut wrenching laughter that leaves you deliriously giggly.

My poor boss. Ah...who am I kidding, it was funny!

After my boss was no longer able to take my stench anymore, he picks up a magazine and fanned the air in hopes to shew the ravenous attack. He then playfully, but slightly seriously yells "take that stuff over the developers." Still unable to contain my giggles, I walk over to the developers cube. Their first question for me was "why are you laughing?" Sharing my story, they laughed with me.

In the words of Doug Citizen, "Ah life......."

:-)

Lights Out

I sit in a dark corner. Classical music soothes my head. Blah...blah...blah.

Its Saturday and I'm at work. The lights are off because we have a developer who likes to work in the dark. He comes over to me asking "hey Ramon, is it okay if I turned the lights off?" With out missing a beat I chimed back at him "sure, why not, I leaving in a while anyways." How accomadating of me.

It is freaky but kinda nice to work in the dark. On another note....

I'm having dinner with this wonderful man tonight, his wife is coming too ;-) Actually, I'm having dinner with my buds, Erin and Darren. Maryann(e) (sp?) may come too. We are eating at the NEW Mediterranean cafe. I hear the food is the same good stuff, but not to expect to much out of the ambiance.

Met with Chris last night. That was a good time. 2 conclusions from last night. 1. I'm pretty sure I was mourning for Jesus. 2. I am terribly, utterly inept at being patient with people and having patience for myself.

As I shared with Chris it struck me. The patience he has for me I have not for myself or others.

I cried. He listened.

Sadness

I didn't know what to expect other than the hyped reports of blood and gore.

My reactions planed from one end of the sphere to the other end. I cried, I had fear, I was angry, I sat in despair, I accused; not what I expected to feel.

This morning I awoke up with sadness. The type of sadness that churns in you as you mourn the death of a person.

When I walked into work this morning, I was told by our administrator that Mike O'Callaghan died this morning of heart attack while he was at church.

I didn't know Mr. O'Callaghan personally, but I know that many people are in pain due to his departure.

My sadness this morning was for Jesus and continues on for Jesus and Mr. O'Callaghan too.