LITTLE FAITH? LITTLE TIME.

I know what many of you are thinking.  

"Is BP gonna make it today?  Will there be a BlermonTM?  Or has his luck finally run out."

Oh, ye of little faith...

Lets face it - I'm Preaching in San Francisco.  That...takes...time.  There are a LOT of things to preach against here.  Be serious.  I'm busy.

Maybe instead of complaining and doubting me, you could start praying for me or maybe getting out here for a little tag team preaching.  


Either way - I'm gonna keep goin'.  I've got my preach SERIOUSLY on - and I won't be turned off.


By the way, on my run this morning on the beach, I think I accidentally baptized a manatee in a tutu. 

At least I THINK it was a manatee.

Why I was in a tutu is anybody's guess.

As together we stand and sing.

BP

THE PARABLE OF THE BIRD FEEDER

And it came to pass that in a vineyard hangeth a feeder of birds.

And upon the morn the fowls of the air would come unto her and and eat of her seeds and feast upon her corn.  And in the evening they wouldst return and feast a second time.  

And the fowl of the air did love the Feeder of Birds, and the vineyard prospered.

And it came to pass, that unto the vineyard came another Feeder of Birds unto the vineyard, that the Master hangeth under the tree.  

And behold it was golden unto the eye and velvet unto the touch, and beautiful and filled with seeds more tasty than the Feeder of Birds.  And the Golden Feeder saith unto the Bird Feeder,

"Behold, thou art a feeder of birds and unto thine perch cometh the fowl of the air both in the morn and again at eve.  But see-est thou mine golden color and the shape of my figure and weep and wail for thine own self.  For now  the fowl of the air will reject thee fully and come unto me and eat my seed and feast upon my corn both in the evening and in the morn."

But the Feeder of Birds saith nothing unto the Golden Feeder.

"Did you not heareth my cry," saith the Golden Feeder again unto the Feeder of Birds.

"Will you not weep when the fowl of the air no longer cometh unto you in the morning and the evening?  Then will the Master  come and take you away and toss you unto the garbage pit and...HEY!  I'm talking-est to thou!"

"Are-est thou even listening unto me?"

"HEY!"

 "WAKEST THOU UP!"

But the Feeder of Birds saith nothing unto the Golden Feeder...

...for behold, she was a bird feeder.  

And bird feeders don't talk.

Behold.

As together we stand and sing.

BP 

POEM POWER #2 - Sermon Coffee

 When the Lord gives you a poem, you are compelled to share it with the world.  

And even when he DOESN'T give you one, if you THINK of one and haven't figured out your BlermonTM for that day - you ALSO have to share it.  So...here it is:

SUNDAY MORNING

by BP

It's Sunday morning once again

The Preacher sits without a friend

Another sermon not quite done

He tries and tries but nothing comes

Into the bag of tricks he goes

Concordance, Bible, cup of Joe

"What will I preach?  I'd like to know!"

"What will I preach? To church I go."

Not a GREAT poem.  But not a great cup of Joe either.  Can't have one without the other in my book.

The point is this: Sermon preparation is so important.

But so is seeing a midnight showing of "Super 8" last night with Gidget.

It SEEMED like a good idea at the time.  This morning, I realized it was not.  Why?  Because I don't have a sermon.

Sigh.  Priority setting has never been my strong suit.

I really cannot calculate just how many Preachers reading this right now are in my same exact position. Don't be surprised if this morning YOUR Preacher uses a poem very similar to the one I just wrote in this BlermonTM this morning.  By similar, I mean the exact same poem.

I am a regular victim of Preacher Plagiarism.  It is a tragic problem sweeping the country, and one I hope to somehow cash in on soon.  It happens.

Annnnnd SCENE!

OK, I'm tried of typing now, so that oughtta do it.  Not bad, huh?  I think this BlermonTM had a little something for everyone in it today: a poem, a conspiracy theory, a picture of whatever THIS is...

And, of course  a puppy lookin' at a gopher thingy.

I tell ya, this blog does it all.

Now if I just had a sermon idea for this morning.

Stay tuned.  Don't steal my stuff.


As together we stand and sing.


BP

FIGHT THE GOOD FIGHT, FINISH THE RACE, WEAR THE RIGHT PANTS

Beware: "Right" pants required.

My guess is I won't able to walk for...let's say 3 days.  Maybe a week.

I love bike riding.  Early, with friends, in the country - the best.

Of course, the REASON I probably won't be walking much the next few days is BECAUSE I went riding this morning.  Early, with friends, in the country.  Which as you know, I love.

But THIS morning I made the mistake of doing it without what is called: the "right" pants.  

This was a mistake.  

Note to self: To ride a 400 mile route without the proper attire, in this case, padded bike shorts, is very close to subjecting yourself to slow-cooked capital punishment...with a hot poker. 

EDITOR'S NOTE: they said we rode only 16 miles - which for them, it probably was.  This is because THEY were wearing the "right" pants.  But if you were wearing what I had on - Levis 501 Jeans, whitey tighties, and my 3-fold billfold stuffed with receipts, it was 400 excruciating miles...EASY.

I can't think off hand where it is EXACTLY in the Bible where the Apostle Paul talks about "Running The Race, finishing the course, and Dippit-dee-ing the doo"  - or whatever - and  if you think I'm getting out of this "tub-soaking" to go look for my Bible to look it up, you're nuts.  I can't move.  It was hard enough balancing this TV tray on my knees over the tub so that I could get my computer in here to BleachTM.  (BTW, I've never been so nervous bleachingTM as I am right now with a computer on a TV tray, on my knees, in a tub - anyhow) 

Just take my word for it!  The PAUL thing is IN there - somewhere.

The point is this, I wish Paul woulda been more specific as to the KIND of race he was talkin' about, because then he might have included a little something about making sure you had on the "right" pants before you took off down the highway.

And don't give me that stuff about Paul talkin' about "Putting on the armor of God" - NObody wears armor on a bike ride.

Man, I am so grumpy when my...um...ah...when I'm in pain.  

And balancing a TV tray on my knees in a tub.


I need a cookie.

As together we stand and sing.

BP

THE TWIT OF TWITTER

One time on Twitter I twooted: 

 "Hey look!  I'm twitting!"

To which I received exactly ZERO responses. 

Another time I twipped:

"A cicada just landed on my wife Gidget's shoulder - tell her?"

 

To which I received exactly ONE response:

"Yes.  Love, Gidget."

In desperation for SOME kind of response, I once (in a moment of weakness) twerped this rather revealing photo of myself :

All I got was an ad from Zappos.  They had a sale on sandals.  It was a very good deal.  I LOVE Zappos, by the way.  Great selection, fantastic customer service.

Clearly, Twitland has yet to be conquered by this semi-daily, semi-global BlinistryTM (blog-ministry).  And yet it is so very vital to world domination.  I mean, saving souls.

Which is why I don't care what anybody says about Congressman Weiner and the Twitter Tornado that has engulfed him recently - naturally, I feel for all the people adversely affected by his less than brilliant decision to  Twerp tweets instead of opting for a nice 6 hour game of Cats Physics or maybe Fruit Ninja Lite.  

It's hard to get into too much trouble when you're rolling balls to kittens and choppin' flyin' fruit with a huge pretend knife.  

Trust me, I know.  I have TRIED to get in trouble while playing Cat Physics - nearly impossible.  That's how effective it is.  Almost better than curling up in front of the fire with a nice, big Strong's Bible Concordance and a bowl of popcorn.

But regardless of all the embarrassment and trouble and pain caused by the Congressman's decision to twit instead of clean out lint from the dryer, bottom line:

I wish I had his Twit Hits.

Let's face it, the guy's got over 76,000 followers on Twitter now. I have 53.  I only have 31 on this blog.  I'm all for bein' "underground" and hip and all but be serious.  What's wrong with this picture?  Pretty much everything.  

Can you imagine what this BlongregationTM (blog-congregation) could do with even HALF that many followers and Twip Hits?  I can imagine, but I won't.  It's not good for me to play those kind of "what if" scenarios with myself this early in the morning.  I get too excited and start eating Cheerios by the handful.  Like I always say, "Don't shop for pews unless you came to sit." 

Somethin' like that.

The Bible has very little to say about  Twitter etiquette.  Probably because in addition to not having Twitter back then, Congressmen were in short supply.  And the few they DID have were probably busy figuring out what to do with all that sand.


All we can do is our best.  I'll keep typing, you keep reading and commenting.  

I'll pray, you fast.  

It'll work.  

In the meantime, I may see if THIS gets a rise out of anybody out there.

You never know.

As together we stand and sing.

BP

NOPE TO SOAP

In Job chapter 9 verses 30-31 it says:

 Even if I washed myself with soap

   and my hands with cleansing powder,
you would plunge me into a slime pit
   so that even my clothes would detest me. 

Let's face it, Job was in a pretty crummy mood.  I don't blame him.  I won't go into it all right now, but trust me, if ANYbody had a reason to be fussy, it was Job.  It's not everyday you wake and find yourself locked into a betting match between the Lord of the Universe and Satan and in the process lose everything you ever had, everyone you ever loved and the ability to sit down without poppin' something unmentionable.  And all you did to deserve this awful treatment, was everything RIGHT.

But from this passage we can deduce that things were even worse for Job than many of us knew.  According to this passage, even Job's "Tub Time" was being affected.  This is where I draw the line.  This is going to far.  Mess with MY "Tub Time"...it's ON.

Take away my stuff, kill off my family, cover me with boils but if I can't get a decent, refreshing cleaning in after my workout and ANOTHER ONE right before I roll into bed at night - well...let's just say I wouldn't be as nice as Job was.  I can get "testy" real fast when I'm dirty for more than 10 hours.

I love showers.  I love baths.  For me, a bubble bath and a book with some candles and maybe some...oh never mind.  No need to go into all THAT here.  I wish I knew how to delete text on this thing.  Anyhow...

Bottom line: Showers and baths are the life line for Preachers.  If you are a Preacher I can already hear you saying "Amen".  If you AREN'T a Preacher, I'm probably not listening to you.

You see, Preachers spend a lot of time with something called: people.  People have what is called: "stuff" all over them.  If you're not careful, this "stuff" WILL get on YOU. 

This is the problem with all the holy hand shakin' and Christian huggin' that goes on during the Preacher's day.  By the end of a day it can be downright disgusting.  You're covered with dried lipstick, and clown make-up and baby goo all over ya.  It's one reason I support the "Holy Wave and Grin" instead.  

COME ON, people.  Stop touchin' me.

So like a lot of Preacher's do and apparently what Job liked to do, I like to get a nice, hot, CLEANSING bath goin' after bein' with the masses.  But unfortunately for Job, he couldn't even get THAT goin'. 

Why?  Let's look again at the passage.

          "Even if I washed myself with soap

   and my hands with cleansing powder,
you would plunge me into a slime pit
   so that even my clothes would detest me."

Apparently the soap Job was using wasn't working.  He couldn't get clean.  His own clothes turned on him.  Which can only mean one thing: 

JOB wasn't using ZEST.

I take a lot of grief for my Zest.  I don't care.  Zest is the best.  Hands down.  Shut up.  Get that DIAL away from me. 

Which brings me to my OWN Job-like grumpiness this morning. 

I'm not sure what went wrong.  We're traveling.  There was the move.  Who knows?  My wife Gidget assured me the soap in the shower this morning was Zest.  But when I got there, all I could find was something called "body wash", which I do NOT use (I'm a Preacher not a runway model), and a bar of what WANTED to be Zest but after several attempts of igniting a good lather clearly WAS NOT!

It's been a tough morning. 

Ever tried to BleachTM (blog-preach) while you still have that "filmy" non-ZEST soap residue all over you?    Like Job, even my clothes are detesting me.  I am detesting me. 

I can't even stretch my arms out without my skin cracklin' with dried soap scum.  

I might as well go roll in a slime pit. 

I hope this helped.  

Dare to be a Job!  Buy ZEST.

As together we stand and sing.

BP  

THE PARABLE OF 2 PIZZAS

And in those days of hunger there cometh 2 pizzas.

And behold, one of the pizzas was filled with extra cheese and mushrooms, green peppers and sausage.  

But the other pizza was covered with pepperoni alone. 

Then came unto the pizzas two men.  And one of the men saith unto the other, "Behold, here are two pizzas.  Let us sit down one with the other and feast upon them both for there is enough for all, and by them, let us put away the hunger from our bodies.  And after we have had our fill, then let us bring unto the pizzas our wives and our children, our goats and our oxen, so that all may sit and feed upon the pizzas, whether they be lovers of the one or of the pepperoni only.  And let all be one in pizza and in the fullness thereof."

Then turned he the second man and walked away from him sorrowful from that place, for he was on cholesterol medicine and both his doctor and his wife would lay him low were any pizza to cross unto his mouth. 

So shall the same be to any man over 45, who loves ice cream more than celery, and pizza more than salad.

As together we stand and sing.

BP