Vox Lucens

I think there is a reason that there are so many Easter hymns, praise songs, and songs that talk about the resurrection. There is too much truth that we try to assimilate this holiday, too much glory for words alone. Adding music gives us just that much more chance to ascribe full worth to the Godhead for the wonder of the resurrection.

Perhaps that’s the reason that, even in Heaven, we will sing the truth back to the throne. The Lamb that gave us eternal hope will receive our eternal praise, as we cast the crowns made possible by His death and resurrection back at His feet, crying,

Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing.

I get goosebumps from Handel’s version; can you imagine the heavenly song of the redeemed millions?

As once stood Horatius against the Etruscans, standing tall against the hordes facing the doomed bridge, stood Gabe against the Avatars. And like that ancient battle’s end, his arrow-riddled hulk now floats down the river, a shattered, silent witness of the power of numbers against courage, might against principle, and social networking against individualized communication.

How have the mighty fallen.

–From A Pointless Oral History of Mankind

I am not against technology, friends, nor am I unfamiliar with it. I first became a web developer before I was out of high school. I do everything but actually code my ministry’s website. I do everything for the website that you are currently exploiting. And I bet very few of you have ever been to a web developer conference surrounded by geeks, as I have. (It’s quite the experience, I can assure you. But I digress.)

So when I stated that I would not join social networking sites, I was not stating a desire to avoid technology or its advantages. At its very core, I wished to spite the screaming hordes of teeny-boppers worshipping daily at the altar of MySpace.

And now, now that the schemes in my brain require me to understand the machinations of modern culture, I have–again–fallen. Xanga was a foot in the water, this website an exciting open door of possibilities, but the Internet is like the Proverbial leeches, ever screaming, “More, More, More.”

It is on that basis that I say–under my breath, so no one will hear me–Facebook me.

Couldn’t have said it better myself.

And I must admit, as a strong disliker of one Barry Bonds, I love it when he makes it easy for me to mock him (from the Giants web page, with modifications for content by me):

“My [colorful language indicated by brackets] tights were coming down,” Bonds said after San Francisco’s 7-0 loss to the Padres when asked why he slowed down rounding third base only to be nailed at home standing up.

*cough, cough*

Have you ever had a near-drowning experience? I did, when I was little, and despite the years that have gone by, I still remember it vividly.

I was playing in the shallow end of the pool, fully intending to stay there, as I knew I couldn’t swim. Shooting a Nerf basketball with some friends, I went out for a long shot, and before I could react I felt the floor go out from underneath me and the water cover me.

I don’t think that there can be a worse feeling than that, looking up at the surface and life, and flailing underneath, sucking in water with the hopeful light getting ever further away. The futile effort to get to the surface only increases the need to breathe unavailable air. You can see the light; you just can’t get there.

Of course, I’m writing this right now because my father noticed that I had disappeared and hauled me, spluttering and struggling, to the surface. It seemed like an eternity down there, even though it was hardly more than a few seconds.

I’ve mastered the spluttering and struggling. Now I’m waiting for the Father.

…I have no idea what is going on.

…Sunday afternoon naps are essential for survival.

…Planning for something probably means it isn’t going to happen.

…Not planning for something probably means it is.

…Emergency request e-mails don’t go through, but the prof grants an extension anyway.

So Friday night I got a call from HSLDA indicating that the omnipresent Dulles queues had claimed another victim–the staffer headed for the Anderson, SC homeschool conference. I got the call at 4:15, and by 6 I had begun the four hour drive to the other side of the state.

Despite the fact that it made for an entirely different weekend than I had planned, I enjoyed myself. When you talk to cool people, meet helpful contacts, and get to do something completely unexpected that involves helping people, it’s hard not to.

Of course, when you’re so exhausted that you oversleep, and end up unexpectedly on stage as a part of a quartet around half an hour after flying out of bed–without any coffee, I would note–life gives you a bit of a wake-up call. Actually, I went home after church and went back to bed, so it was much more of a metaphorical wake-up call.

So that was the weekend. Life awaits, and it is definitely more entertaining when…

…Opening Day is upon us.

…Google comes up with stuff like this.

…I reach the same conclusions as Bucky the Katt.