"Everybody's Entitled to Their Own Opinion, But... Don't Even Think About Expressing an Opinion That Opposes Mine"

Perez Hilton, an outspoken gay activist and recent Miss USA judge, is in a tizzy over Miss California's response to his controversial question during the recent Miss USA pageant.

Here's his controversial question and Miss California's answer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8XMvviFbkf0

Clearly angered by Miss California's refusal to replace her counterculture convictions with political correctness, Perez uses his blog, "Everybody's Entitled to Their Own Opinion, But..." to defame her response to his question as, "the worst answer in pageant history." His reason?

"She lost, not because she doesn't believe in gay marriage. Miss California lost because she's a dumb @#!$% If I was Miss California with half a brain I would have said, 'Hmm, Perez, that's a very good question. That's a very hot topic in our country right now and I think that that is a question that each state should decide for themselves.'"

Good point, Perez. People who have at least half a brain wouldn't even think about maintaining integrity by sticking to their convictions under loads of pressure on national television. Especially knowing full well that it could cost them a Miss USA title and make them subject to public mockery and ridicule. No, people with at least half a brain would definitely cave to the majority and say what they think their antagonistic gay judge wants them to say. True intelligence is spineless. And thoughtless.

Hilton continued his nonsensical rant by villainizing Miss California for daring to be politically incorrect. "She gave an awful, awful answer that alienated so many people. And Miss California, Miss USA, she doesn't alienate. She unites. She inspires."

Let me get this straight, Perez. You would have Miss California spout a half-hearted, politically correct answer in order to alienate everyone who opposes gay marriage? Because regardless of Miss California's answer, she will alienate somebody. That's what happens when you ask somebody an extremely controversial question on national television. It's the nature of "hot topics". Maybe hot topics just aren't your thing after all, Mr. Hilton.

And what about all of the pro-marriage, pro-family Americans who were inspired by Miss California's decision to use her influence to promote family values? What about the people who were inspired to think more about the political, social, and spiritual ramifications of gay marriage as a result of Miss California's response? And what about all of the young girls who were inspired by Miss California's example of a strong woman with a backbone, who refuses to cave under fire? I think what you mean, Mr. Hilton, is that Miss California didn't inspire people to join your agenda. And since the whole point of Miss USA is to promote the gay agenda, I totally understand your frustration.

Perez concludes his blog with one last dose of verbal vomit, "If Miss California had won, I would have gone up on stage, snatched that tiarra off her head, and run out the door."

Good call Perez. That would have been a heroic step toward uniting and inspiring. It wouldn't have been at all divisive. I think your message would have been quite clear.

A Reflection of the Real Thing

On Saturday morning when my mom and I cruised across the Columbia River from Portland into Vancouver, I had the sensation one must get when putting glasses on for the first time, after months of struggling to discern blurry outlines.  As I soaked up the beauty of the silvery river, lined with budding trees and offset by snow-capped mountains, I felt like I had stepped from a world of hazy figures and blurry outlines, into a world of high visual pixilation.  This high definition world was bursting with light and color, and proclaiming God's glory with greater detail and precision than I'm accustomed to.  The vibrant colors pulsated with life, and every bit of creation seemed more real to me than ever before.  It was as if I had been transported from the smog-covered Shadowlands, into the wild mountains of the HeartLand, and every cell in my body was crying out, "I was made for this!!!!"

If C.S. Lewis is right, then we will experience something infinitely greater when we get to heaven.  I like to think when we pass through those pearly gates, it will feel like we've just been given a pair of celestial glasses, with pixelation that'll put Sony to shame!  Everything will seem more real, as if all these years we've been living in a dream, enjoying a reflection of the real thing.  Until then, enjoy this reflection of the real thing, Pacific Northwestern style.  I hope it makes you yearn for heaven.  :)

The trees rolled out a red carpet of blossoms, welcoming Spring to our neighborhood. If you look closely, you can see where Spring traipsed across the petals, transforming the dead ground into earth laden with decadent flowers. 

This is the view from my driveway.  Notice the lack of smog on the horizon.  Believe it or not, t's actually difficult to deeply inhale this air.  I'm so used to chewing my air.

Have I ever mentioned that it's a secret dream of mine to live in a tree covered in blossoms?  I'm thinking about moving into this tree.  

I wonder if each blossom is different, like snowflakes.  

Spring just recently waved her wand at this little guy.  

I went on a walk and enjoyed watching the clouds shift from one mood to another.  Even the most mediocre horizons here take my breath away.

A diamond in the rough.

The daffodils are Spring's finest form of efflorescence!  

"So whatever it takes, I will be one who lives in the fresh newness of life of those who are alive from the dead."  Philippians 3:11

OK, So Maybe Love Isn't Blind

Today I woke up to the shocking sensation of an axe slamming full force into my head.  Ugh.  Another migraine.  I begrudgingly got ready for work and drove to school.  When I arrived, I promptly told my kids I had a migraine and pleaded with them to be as quiet as possible.  The following conversation ensued after my brief announcement:

Emily: Isn't a migraine a type of flower?

Me: No.  It's a headache that makes you feel like your brain has just split in half.

Emily: Oh.  Well, can we pray for you Miss Jackson?

Me: Yes Emily!  Thank you, I would love that.

Virginia: I want to pray!

Me: Go ahead Virginia

Virginia:  Dear Lord, please help Miss Jackson to feel better so she can come to Open House tonight.  And please help her to look better for Open House.  And help her makeup to cover up her face so that she looks prettier.  In Jesus' name, Amen.

You've gotta give 'em credit for saying it like they see it. :)

Now that's inspiration!

Several times this morning I sat down to try to write something profound or witty, but the only words that came to mind were, "watermelons, marbles, sinuses, and petri dish."  No amount of brainstorming could alter the word-flow, so I guess I've got to make-do with what I have.  Here goes.

My lymph-nodes are the size of baby watermelons.  My arms and legs feel like they are stuffed with very, very heavy marbles.  And I'm wondering if i even have sinuses anymore?  Oh the joys of working in the germ-infested petri dish we call a third grade classroom.

Perhaps when when my lymph-nodes begin to shrink I will have more inspiring bloggage.  Maybe something along the lines of, "peaches, pick-up sticks, belly buttons, and bunsen burner"...?

Just Call Me Claude Monet

Today I took my students outside to do part II of an art lesson on impressionism. I was modeling for them how to use short brush strokes to paint garden scenes. As I was painting, a little girl in the front row exclaimed, "Miss Jackson!! Your painting is even better than Claude Monet's!"
It turns out love is blind.

Mine.

Claude's

Quotes from the Little People

I've decided to try to write down the funny things my third grade students say each week.  Here is this week's fruit:

After reviewing the definition of the vocabulary word, "Blacksmith"

Miss Jackson: "You know what?  My grandpa was a blacksmith!"

Michael: [dreamily] "Did he live in a castle?"

While searching for Psalm 139 during our Bible lesson:

Paul: "Is it in first or second Psalms?"

While trying to keep the kids calm after a giant wasp flew into our classroom:

Michael: "DON'T WORRY YOU GUYS!  My dad says we're bigger than the bugs."

While looking up the world's biggest hamburger with three of my kiddos:

Miss Jackson:  "Whoa!  That thing weighs as much as I do!"

Emily: [Surprised and obviously impressed] "Wow Miss Jackson!  For a grown woman, you're doing pretty good!"  

Tell Me What You Think, Thoughtful Reader

1. What is beauty?

2. Is beauty always in the eye of the beholder?

Please chime in with your ideas...!

Wishful Thinking

If clouds had flavors....

....blustery day clouds would taste like crème brûlée...

...sunset clouds would taste like rainbow sherbet...

...storm clouds would taste like chocolate mousse...

....misty morning clouds would taste like iced lemonade...

....and lazy day clouds would taste like fresh, summery shortcake!

Love is...

I had my first church solo when I was in fourth grade. I never had another solo after that. It's not that I have bad pitch, in fact my ear is pretty decent. I just don't have what you would call a pure, sonorous vocal quality. One might use the word "croak" to describe my singing voice.

Naturally, I have tried to spare friends or acquaintances any exposure to my "singing". With the exception of my third grade students, that is.

We sing together almost daily in my classroom.  Sometimes I teach them new songs, and sometimes they teach me more "hip" versions of songs we already know.

Not long ago, I was leading my class in the first verse of, "Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus". Feeling comfortable that their angelic little voices were drowning out mine, I sang with confidence. As I sang, I noticed Emma in the front row, singing sweetly, her brown eyes shining with admiration as she held up this little blue sticky note.  

When my other students found out what Emma's note said, they echoed her sentiment, thus reinforcing my conclusion that love is not blind.     It is deaf.  

Broken Chains

Last night, the young witch and mother about whom I blogged several days ago gave her life to Jesus Christ!!!!!  She is now covered in the blood of the Living Lamb of God.  Thank you for praying.

Please pray for her physical safety and spiritual growth over the next several weeks.  She is surrounded by witches, and will certainly experience intense spiritual warfare now that the Spirit of God lives in her.  Also, pray that her husband would come to know Christ, and that he would give her the freedom to get involved in my church with her three children.

"The LORD your God is with you,

he is mighty to save."

Zephaniah 3:17

The Prisoners Next Door

My friend lives next door to a group of witches. They're white witches, which doesn't mean that it's "always winter and never Christmas"...  Instead, white witches claim they only use their magic to do "good".

Sometimes at night my friend can hear the witches engaging in voodoo practices. Their satanic ceremonial chants penetrate the wall that separates their townhouse from my friend's townhouse, sending eerie chants ricocheting throughout her living area.

Occasionally, these witches parade about, clad in white ceremonial garb as they make sacrifices to the spirits. Their pure white gowns and "good" intentions have blinded them to the fact that they are prisoners in the kingdom of darkness. They have no idea that Satan is prowling around like a lion, hoping to devour them.

Or maybe they do know.

Awhile ago one of the witches, a young mother, knocked on my friend's door late at night. Her white gown was torn and spotted with blood and she appeared to be intoxicated. In a trance-like state, she confided in my friend, spewing out the details of their Satan worship.

As she talked, she began to come out of her trance-like state and grew embarrassed. She picked herself up off her chair and hastily asked my friend if she would babysit her three kids later that week. "I know my family could watch my kids," the mother hesitantly motioned to the witches' house next door, "but I know in my heart my kids will be safe with you." Her eyes pleaded with my friend.

Does this young witch know she's a prisoner? Is she hoping someone will break her heavy chains and free her from the powers of darkness?  As she plunges herself into Satanic worship, does she worry about the destinies of her children?

Several weeks ago her family sacrificed a lamb in their garage to the spirits. That dead lamb will not free her from her bondage.

"The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him and said, 'Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!'" John 1:29

"You were rescued from the useless way of life that you learned from your ancestors. But you know that you were not rescued by such things as silver or gold that don't last forever. You were rescued by the precious blood of Christ, that spotless and innocent lamb. Christ was chosen even before the world was created, but because of you, he did not come until these last days."
1 Peter 1:18-20

Last week the white witches spent 6 consecutive hours chanting, calling upon the name of Satan.

"A jar of wine vinegar was there, so they soaked a sponge in it, put the sponge on a stalk of the hyssop plant, and lifted it to Jesus' lips. When he had received the drink, Jesus said, 'It is finished.'" With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit. John 19:21-30

"At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook and the rocks split." Matthew 27:31

When was the last time we spent 6 hours calling upon the name of Almighty God, praying for the salvation of people like the white witches?

"But when they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had been rolled away. As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man dressed in a white robe sitting on the right side, and they were alarmed.  'Don't be alarmed,' he said. 'You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen!'" Mark 16:4-6

This week I keep picturing the white witches standing in a circle, looking down at at their dead and bloodied sacrificial lamb, hoping his cold corpse will appease the spirits, while the Risen Jesus stretches his scarred hands toward them and calls them by name, offering them Hope.

Will you join with me in praying that this young mother, her children, and her family members experience the power of the King of Light and entrust their lives to the Perfect Lamb?
 "For he has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins." Colossians 1:14

Jesus, Lover of Our Souls

"He [Jesus] took Peter, James, and John along with him, and he began to be deeply distressed and troubled.  'My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death,' he said to them."

Mark 14:33-34

You know those times when your soul is so impregnated with pain it feels like it is about to burst?  In these moments you realize your body is unaccustomed to such pain and it's too finite and weak to deal with the sorrow.  Desperately, you try to release the pain, to let your soul somehow seep out of your body to a place where it can expand with the grief that overwhelms it.  But such attempts are futile.  Your body and your soul are inexplicably intertwined.  You cannot escape your pain.

Jesus knows how that feels.