Posted by
Mark Littleton on Thursday, November 29, 2007 5:06:01 PM
Nov. 29, 2007
Today's Picture:
Picture Caption: Okay, I'll admit it: I'm having a bad
day. But that soup just made it a lot worse.
From "101 Amazing Truths About Jesus That You
Probably Didn't Know"
Jesus's family tree included murderers, sexual deviants,
and genocidal maniacs.
It must have embarrassed Jesus on occasion. What, you
ask? His forebears. Some of them were real hellions. Few were saints. A couple
were genocidal maniacs.
How
would you like those skeletons in your closet?
Probably
all of us, at one time or another, have discovered an unsavory secret or two in
our genealogical attics. I have only one that I know of. My family rarely talks
about it. When my dad casually asked the person involved about a certain
relationship he had with another woman, Dad later told me, "He looked at
me with such hatred in his eyes that I decided then and there never to bring it
up again."
But
really, this wasn't much. Perhaps my relative only engaged in a strange
relationship. At worst, adultery. Compare that with the deeds done in some
families, and it's almost laughable. Next
to the fellow who has murder, lying, cheating, abuse, adultery, incest, and
even genocide in his family tree, it's pretty mild.
But
Jesus did have those things in his familial past. His genealogy in Matthew
1:1-17 gives us an astonishing insight into a Savior who had a lot to hide-if
he had wanted to. But he didn't. He laid it all out for us-all the sinners,
saints, and ain'ts of his family history.
There's Abraham, the ancient patriarch who lied twice to
potentates to protect himself-and in so doing almost caused his wife to commit
adultery against her will. His son Isaac did the same thing. And then there's
Jacob, whose name essentially means "cheat"-which he did to nearly everyone
dear to him without flinching.
Judah
and his daughter-in-law Tamar committed incest. Ruth the Moabite, who was
descended from the sexual union of Lot and his daughter, was a product of
incest.
Next
we find David, who committed adultery with Bathsheba and later had her husband
murdered to cover it up. Solomon, the wisest, richest man who ever lived, in
his last years deserted the God who made him wise and rich and became a pagan
idolater. And Manasseh, later in the messianic lineage, gained the reputation
of the bloodiest king in all Israel, murdering people left and right in his
awful reign of terror. In fact, if you take a hard look at it, the sinners in
Jesus's genealogy far outweigh the do-gooders by a wide margin.
Why
is this? Why would the Savior of the world and King of heaven be burdened with
such a tainted lineage? Perhaps for only one reason: Jesus was one of us.
Perhaps God gave Jesus these forebears to remind him what he was sent to do: to
save sinners. Another beautiful truth is
that many of those sinners in Jesus's family history also went down in history
as some of God's greatest saints: Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, David . . . even
Manasseh turned back to God at the end of his life.
Write
it on a billboard if that what it takes to really get it: all saints started
out as sinners, and any sinner can become a saint-by simply entrusting himself
or herself to the one in charge of the "Transformation Express."
From "Daddyhood"
The Diaper Disaster
I
learned to change diapers my first-time-around as a father. Just grab a leg, whisk up one of those wet
towel things, pull the baby skyward, refuse the impulse to vomit, and wipe away
the green stuff. It'll take several wipes, maybe seven or eight, but you'll get
it sooner or later. Then lay down a new diaper. Open it, and lie the baby on
top, her tushy in the middle of the diaper. Okay, she's wiggling. That's solved
by setting your hand on her stomach and holding her in place. Not too heavily
now, you don't want to suffocate her. Finally, peel those two tabs on either
side of the diaper. Oh, they're on the top? You'll have to shift the diaper
around. That's it. Good. You've got it. What's the big deal?
With
Elizabeth, the latest baby, my usual problem wasn't changing her. It was
after dispensing with the used
diaper, I had to find a new one. My wife informed me she kept them in a special
place - in a cute cloth diaper thingy hanging from the front of Elizabeth's
crib. But naturally, I forgot that at that moment because I didn't listen to my
wife in the first place, being a self-centered male who didn't think it
important at the time, so I careened about for ten minutes, muttering under my
breath, "Why don't we keep them in a regular place?"
Of
course, the day finally came when the diaper thingie was out. Flat out of
diapers. Not a single one even lying on the floor, or under the crib. Nowhere
to be been, and I was home alone with the baby. I couldn't call out to my wife,
"Oh, dear, aren't there any extra diapers somewhere?" Because I think
she had told me the night before to get some when I went to Wal-Mart. But once
again I'd forgotten, because I had only gone to the electronics department,
being a self-involved male lout.
Of
course, I had to find something, so my typical male mind thought, Ah, maybe
there's a slightly used diaper lying in the dirty diaper bin that can serve
until we get a new pack.
I
hurried to the stinking bin where the used diapers had piled up. Thinking I
should put on rubber gloves but none were available, I just held my nose and
rummaged in the pile with my right hand. In the process, I learned the true
meaning of the word, "disgusting."
I
soon came to the realization that all the diapers there were so soaked and
saturated that nothing would work. Why? Because I never changed a diaper till
it was so heavy it hung down around the baby's knees.
Then
real inspiration hit: I could wad up some Kleenexes, use that for a diaper and
bind it to the kid while we went off to Wal-Mart to buy some real diapers.
I got Elizabeth ready,
duct-taped some Kleenexes around her waist and tushy, then rushed to Wal-Mart
where I hurtled around in a fever trying to remember where the diaper aisle
was, praying the baby wouldn't go until we'd found it.
Of
course, that was not to be. As I zoomed past the electronics department I
suddenly felt wetness on my arm. The baby, safely tucked in my right armpit,
smiled up at me as pee dripped down my forearm. Liberal pee. Gusher pee. I
wondered if the kid had imbibed a six-pack when I wasn't looking.
Finding
a sympathetic attendant, she told me where to find the diapers. I darted off
while she called after me, "Hey, what's this?"
"The
baby drools bad," I called back, hurrying out of earshot. But guilt set in
and I staggered back. "My baby . . . went."
"Isn't
she wearing a diaper?"
"Not
exactly."
"What
is she wearing?"
"Kleenex."
"That
doesn't work, sir, as you can see."
"I'm
sorry. Can I go find a diaper before she goes again?"
"Do
us all a favor."
Arriving
in the right aisle with Elizabeth now in a cart, I stared at a long row
featuring every kind of diaper ever created by mankind. There were 1's and 2's,
3's, 4's and 5's. There were Pampers and Huggies and multiple other brands. I
didn't know what kind my wife preferred. Frankly, I didn't care. Pee was again
dripping onto the floor under the cart.
I
soon discovered the numbering system had to do with weight of the baby. But how
much did she weigh?
Having
been at one time a Physics major, my mind zipped through the
possibilities. "Elizabeth was
a little more than one. So maybe ones was it." But ones were for babies,
weren't they, little babies, tiny babies, the cuddly kind that everyone cooed
at and made faces at and loved. Elizabeth was beyond that stage. She spit into
people's faces when they baby-talked, "Oo, da widdle liddle babee girlie
is so cutie-poo!"
I
hefted her like a bag of oranges. I knew she was less than a fifty-pound bag of
dog food, which I regularly had to heave home because we had an eighty-pound
Dalmatian galumping down wads of the stuff every day.
A
twenty-pound bag of potatoes? She was less lumpy, but that sounded close.
I
left Elizabeth and walked down the long aisle, reading the sparse information
on the sides of the bags of diapers. I settled on 2's. Meanwhile, another man
with a baby arrived looking for diapers. I prayed he wouldn't ask me for any
kind of diaper information, but naturally he did.
"Do
you know what size a baby like mine would take?"
"How
much does she weigh?"
"He."
I
stared at the baby. Long hair. Pink shirt. Green pants. Red sneakers. Even I
knew this guy had dressed his kid
without the mother around. No woman would have let her kid go out like that. So
now I knew I was dealing with somebody about the same as me.
"The
numbers on the packages relate to size of the baby," I said. "Figure
that out and you've got it."
"Great."
He turned to the long row and squinted. I walked away, laughing to myself. Men
are such idiots, I thought.
And
then suddenly, with that searing white-hot lightning of realization when you
know you've majorly messed up, I remembered I left the baby sitting in the cart
in the aisle. What aisle?
My
heart went to my throat. I thought, What am I going to do? If she's missing, my
wife will kill me. My parents will kill me. Wal-Mart will kill me immediately.
They'd go to the gun department, get a shotgun and shells and execute me on the
spot.
Then
I saw the trail of pee. Ah, nothing like a little pee to lead you back to your
prey.
My
eyes followed the little yellow stream down to a whole clothes rack quivering
ten feet away. Ah, that idiot male
must have pushed her out of the way to get his cart down the aisle. What a
jerk. I glanced back to see him holding a package of diapers and quizzically
looking around for help. Just
desserts, as far as I was concerned.
I
found Elizabeth wailing under the clothes still in the cart, soaked but whole.
I
tore open the 2's pack, pulled out a fresh new diaper, and changed her there on
the spot. She cooed with pleasure.
I
spotted the attendant from before walking down toward me with a mop. "I hear your Kleenex contraption
didn't work down here, either."
"Sorry.
But I got on a new diaper."
"Before
you paid for it?"
"Well,
I thought . . . "
"Men,"
she muttered and began mopping.
"What idiots!"
I
considered pointing out the moron still in the diaper aisle, but I didn't want
to cast aspersions.
At
that point, I walked back and bought sixteen more packs of 2's, 3's, and 4's. I
vowed never to run out of diapers again.
Mark's
Comment: Before you get married, you should sign a prenup agreement that states
your agreement or non-agreement about changing diapers. Get it in print,
notarized, etc. Because if you don't, you will be changing diapers. A lot. And
just as it's true that "all's fair in love and war," so it is when
changing a diaper. Also, my best advice about changing a diaper for fathers,
it's not the stench, it's not the mess, it's not having to wipe it all up. What
will really help you is how your wife will look at your finished job, cluck her
tongue, shake her head, and say, "Where on earth did you learn to change
diapers?" This is your best chance of never having to do it again.
Elizabeth's
Comment: I don't remember any of this.
Prayer and The Political Debate
I
have been praying for sometime that the main-stream media and especially CNN
and their ilk would be exposed for the partisan stance they take on politics.
I'm not endorsing any candidate, Democratic or Republican, but I have noted
that the MSM consistently supports left-leaning causes and leaders.
Last
night, and of course many times in the past, I had a prayer answered. I didn't
see the Republican's YouTube debate, but I have read much about the
"planted questions" from various Democratic candidates. CNN claims
they didn't know about these, but it seems remarkable that of thousands of
entries they would pick these among others, especially when much of the
information about the questioners was available right on the Internet. Either
CNN is totally incompetent, or partial to the point of trying to make any
Republican candidate look bad. Either way, it's not good.
I
believe that God is in charge, whoever gets elected. We have survived bad
administrations in the past, from both ends of the political spectrum, so it's
in God I trust, not the MSM or any single candidate. What floors me is how
little Americans seem to care about this problem. I suggest we as Christians
pray that:
1.
God will continue to hammer the MSM with exposures of their bias.
2.
That Christians will vote, even if the leading candidates don't line up on
every issue the way they may want.
3.
That God will continue to assure us of his control and guidance, even if things
do not turn out the way we wish.
Website: marklittleton.com
Our writer's network website:
heartofamericachristianwriters.com
My literary agency website: winsunliterary.com
My blog: life-ology.townhall.com
Latest books:
101 Amazing Truths About Jesus You Probably Didn't
Know(Howard Books, 2007)
The Ten-Second Prayer Principle: Powerful Prayer As You
Go(Howard Books, 2007)
Books to come:
What's In the Bible for Teens? (Bethany House, January
2008)
BIble Bathroom Book(Howard Books, April 2008)
The Big Bad God of the Bible(AMG, August, 2008)
The Real Life Kid's Devotional Bible For Boys(Zonderkidz,
September, 2008)
The Real Life Kid's Devotional Bible For
Girls(Zonderkidz, September, 2008)
The NIRV Kid's Devotional(Zonderkidz,
October, 2008)