When my daughter got married back in December, we spent a lot of time and money trying to get the perfect decorations. As a result, the center pieces turned out really nice. We've had them in storage for the past six months, but now we have pulled them out and put them up for sale. I wish I had some better pictures, but this is what I have.
We used the 18 inch center pieces (about 24 inches including the height of the flowers) on the dining tables. In the pictures, you can see that we also had small LED lights inside of the vases. Once the lights went down, this looked very nice. We still have some of the LED lights and whoever buys the vases can have them, but we are not attempting to sell them as part of the package because we're not sure if they all still work.
We placed the five foot center pieces on stands (not included) at each side of the entrance tent. With the gold pots, blue and white silk poinsettas, greenery, small white lights, and frosted white branches they added a touch of elegant class to the occasion.
I was given some false information about the camel spiders, or sun spiders, that were prevalent in the desert of Jordan when I was there on a temporary duty in 1996. I was told that the male spider would climb on camels, or soldiers, in the middle of the night and use an anesthetic like venom to deaden the skin and then make an incision. After that, the female would crawl up and lay eggs inside of the incision. The wound would heal and the baby spiders would grow under the skin until they were old enough to eat their way out.
ANALOGY OF A CAMEL SPIDER
The Middle Eastern desert regions of the world play host to a very interesting creature commonly referred to as the camel spider. Equipped with an ominous set of pinschers, a camouflage desert brown body, and sometimes growing up to 5 inches across, the camel spider is a frightening predator in the insect world. They commonly feed on grasshoppers and other small insects, but it is a peculiar reproductive practice that makes the camel spider unique. First, the male spider climbs onto an unsuspecting, slumbering victim such as a camel and uses anesthetic type venom to deaden a small portion of the animal’s skin. Then, he makes a small incision with his pinschers. The female then comes along and lays her eggs inside the incision. The cut soon heals over and the eggs are left under the skin to live off of the nutrients that are provided by the host animal’s body tissues. Once the eggs hatch, the baby camel spiders eat their way through the flesh and make their arrival into the world.
So it is with Satan in our lives. He is an ominous sort of creature that any normal person would steer clear of. But rather than walk right up and introduce himself, he likes to sneak around and wait until we’re sleeping. He waits until we are at a weak moment in our lives and then strikes. Perhaps a loved one has just died, or maybe a marriage or long time courtship is on the rocks. He creeps in with his crafty words and worldly lies and tries to anesthetize the hurt before God can use it to help us grow. Then he plants eggs of doubt, hate, or unbelief and they remain there, hidden under the skin, constantly being fed by the entourage of hateful, hurtful thoughts that he so willingly provides. Finally, after weeks, months, and sometimes years of gestation the ugliness that is on the inside eats its way out and we find ourselves in a swirl of mixed emotions wondering how it ever began.Are you eaten up inside by a hurt that happened a long time ago? Do you walk around with an incision on your heart where Satan has planted some pretty ugly eggs that have grown and festered? Speaking of Jesus Christ, the Bible says in Matthew 11:28, "Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” On the contrary, 1 Peter 5:8 warns, "Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour.” Do you serve a Saviour who loves you and wants you to have rest? Or do you serve the devil who is waiting for the opportunity to devour your soul? Are you willing to accept the fact that you are not perfect and you need the love of Jesus in your life? Or are you content to sit in your cesspool of self pity and sing, “Woe is me?” You don’t have to allow Satan to gain a foothold in your life. Look to the cross of Christ and there you will find the answer to all of your problems. Cast all your cares upon him, for he cares for you. He gave his life on this earth so that you could have an abundant life in heaven. Don’t let Satan, that old camel spider, rob you of God’s richest blessing.
After reading my daughter's spider story, I thought I would write my own:
When I was about 10, in a decision that defies logic now that I am a parent myself, my parents bought me and my older brothers motorcycles. We used to ride them on our dirt road and through the nearby woods (that we called “The Flats”).
One day, I was following my brothers through the flats on my little Honda 50, when they got a little ahead of me and I lost sight of them. I turned off on a trail that I thought was the right one, but, of course, it wasn’t. In fact, it was on a trail that we hardly ever rode on.
Not too long after I turned, I ran through a giant spider web that was stretched across the trail. Then there was another, and another until I finally passed through a web and a big garden spider landed squarely on my face shield (thank God I had a helmet on). Panic stricken, I fell over and when I tried to stand up I found myself tangled in what seemed like hundreds of spider webs. It seemed like a bad horror movie.
I remember screaming like a girl as I frantically tried to get the spider off my face shield and the webs off my arms and body. Somehow, one of my brothers heard what was going on and managed to get me out and calm me down. To me, it was a pretty traumatic event and I have never liked spiders since.
So, there you have it. The secret is out. I am afraid of spiders. Still, when duty calls and I must be the man of the house, the ever present spider-killer, I will put on the face of courage and squash one if I have to. Although, I have to admit that even while I am doing it I am dreading what might happen if I miss and it jumps on me.
My daughter recently wrote a funny story about a spider that made its home underneath the dashboard of her car. It is an amusing story and one that I can totally see happening to her.
I miss her terribly. We have a special relationship, my daughter and I, and we had some really great times together when she was growing up. Sometimes it's hard for me to believe that she is married and living six hours away. For the longest time after she left, we would go into restaurants and when the hostess would ask how many I would say, "Five." Then, I would remember that she wasn't with us and have to change it to, "Four."
Anyway, before I start bawling and short out the keyboard with tears, check out my daughter's story. I think you will find it amusing. You can read it on her blog HERE.
I read a book recently about "wreckers". From the early 1800's up until the early 1900's there were ships specifically set up to rescue other ships that were stuck on the reefs in and around the Florida Keys. The wrecker crew would save the people on board and then commence to salvage the cargo, often in foul weather and at the risk of their own lives. Of course, they did this with the expectation of being rewarded for their efforts.
There was an extensive court system set up where a judge determined just how much the salvage crew should be rewarded. The judge also had the power to revoke the wrecker's license if he thought they acted inappropriately.
There were differences of opinion about whether these men were saviors or scoundrels. On one hand, they risked life and limb to save lives and cargo, but on the other hand, they did it for profit. From what I was able to gather, there were more good guys than bad in the business. A lot of times, they would work for hours, sometimes days to salvage the cargo from a ship and then only be rewarded a small amount.
I don't know what it was like to be a wrecker, but it seems like a hard life to me and one that I would much rather read about than live.
I read a poem on Ezibella's Blog that is a sobering reminder of the sacrifices made by so many of our men and women in uniform. Please make your way over there and check it out.
It was still dark when I headed out for work this morning. We had a pretty bad storm last night and when I got to my truck I noticed that the roll around basketball goal had fallen over. The idea that it was laying on the ground bothered me (a startling revelation that my daughter's repeated accusations of being obsessive/compulsive might actually have some merit) so I walked over to stand it back up in the position that it was meant to be in. I leaned over, grabbed hold of the goal post and pulled up.
I was surprised at how light it was and I was thinking about that as I stood it back up. Just about the time the goal got over my head, a big pool of water that had been resting on the backboard fell right on top of me. The deluge of cold rain water that doused my head and soaked me to the skin quickly drove away any drowsiness that might have been hanging on from the previous night's sleep. Needless to say, I had to go back inside and change shirts before going to work.
The next time that happens, I think I'll just let the basketball goal stay on the ground… maybe…if I can stand to see it out of its correct position. Ok… no I won’t… I’ll have to pick it up.
The Monday after Mother's Day, I went over to talk to my friend during break. He loves to cook, so I wanted to ask him what he made for his wife on Mother's Day. He was standing by one of his co-workers when I walked up (the same co-worker who talked about hunting in the graveyard in one of my previous posts).
My friend attempted to respond to my question of what he did for Mother's Day, but while he was talking, the other guy pretended to cast out a fishing line and reel it in. He kept doing this while my friend was talking. Finally, I said, "You went fishing yesterday?"
"All day," he responded rather proudly.
"Did your wife go with you?"
"No, she didn't want to."
"So, you went fishing all day on Mother's Day and your wife stayed at home?"
"I've gone fishing for the last four Sundays, so I didn't think she would mind, but when I was getting ready to go she got mad at me. Can you believe that?"
My friend and I both stood there with blank stares on our faces. Finally, I said, "Of course I can believe it. It was Mother's Day. You should have stayed home with her."
"It was too late by then. I already had the boat ready. She should have told me she didn't want to go before I loaded it up."
"You should have known she didn't want you to go."
"How am I supposed to know that? I can't read her mind." He carried on a little about not understanding women, then headed back toward his work area. My friend and I watched him walk away, both of us shaking our heads.
"How long has he been married?" I asked my friend.
"Over twenty years."
"And he doesn't get it by now?"
"I guess not."
"That's pathetic."
"I agree."
At one point in time, we had about thirty goats. Over the years, that has dwindled down to just one. Her name is Padme' (after the Star Wars character - there was another one named Anakin). My brother has three female goats and, since they are herding animals, Padme' has been in his field with them for the past year.
Long story short - my brother borrowed a billy so that he could have some baby goats and over the past few weeks we've had a bunch of new goats born. The last to give birth was Padme' who did so yesterday morning. Now, where there used to be four goats there are thirteen! Goats often give birth to twins and sometimes they birth triplets. Padme' had a set of twins, a male and female. They are a little different from the goats she normally has because their heads are tri-colored. I like goats when they are small. Unfortunately, they have a tendency to grow up.
My wife and I traveled to the Orlando International Airport yesterday to pick up part of the mission team that was returning from Ecuador. We took the 12 passenger church bus and here are some of the highlights of the trip:
On the way to Orlando we get a call from the team in Miami. Their connecting flight might be delayed just a little.
Next call: they are loading the plane.
Next call: the plane is not taking off due to lightning.
Next call: they are ready to take off, but do not have a pilot because he is held up on another flight.
Next call: everyone is being removed from the plane.
Next call: they are boarding the plane again.
Needless to say, we arrived in Orlando long before the team ever arrived. The bus was too big to park at the airport, so we decided to find a restaurant. We pulled off on an exit just before the airport. I'll try to make my entries just as brief as the ones above:
The first direction off of the expressway proved to be an industrial park.
Traveled almost a mile in the other direction, but only found a Taco Bell and some hotels.
Back on the expressway... past the airport.
Nothing stood out.
Exited the expressway, but ended up on a different toll road.
Almost got into an accident when traffic stopped dead in front of me while traveling in the rain at about 60 mph. Was only able to stop by the grace of God. Two cars behind me went off the road into the median. No car crashes.
Turned around... somehow made it back to the exit with the Taco Bell. Traveled just past it and found a Denny's (figures).
Stopped immediately (big sigh of relief).
Inside Denny's, ordered apple pie and coffee (my wife, cheesecake and sweet tea).
The waitress, Barbara, was a woman close to sixty who obviously liked to talk because we heard all about how she raised her two kids as a single mom, her husband passing away when they were two and four. "I felt like Sybil," she said. "In one breath I would say, 'No you can't do that,' in a mean tone of voice and the next breath would come out all sweet and syrupy and I would be asking if they wanted some dessert."
The woman went on to tell us how her relationship with her daughter changed when she began dating. She told us, "One night she brought her boyfriend home and I was cleaning my shotgun in the living room. I usually cleaned it in the bedroom, but this time I had it laid out right in the open."
I responded with, "Usually you hear about the dad cleaning the shotgun. I would have been scared to death if I walked in on a mom doing that." (I tried to imagine the scene in my head. I couldn't help but wonder why she had a shotgun in the first place).
She said, "Oh, he was surprised." Then she went on, "I had to be both mom and dad to my kids. My son still gives me a Father's Day card every year." She hesitated for just a moment and I think there might have been some regret in her eyes. Then she said, "You know, he's thirty seven years old and I have never met any of his friends. He tells me that he was scared to bring them home." With that, her conversation with us was over and she walked away from the table. It was kind of sad actually.
We finally got the call that our passengers were were at the airport. The plane was only three hours late, but it was OK. My wife and I definitely had an interesting time waiting for them.
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