What's Your Threadcount? Your "weave and finish"?

The Truth About Thread Count (Linenplace.com)

The high thread count story hit the bedding market in the mid to late 1990s and has since dominated all conversations about sheets.  Now over ten years later it's still the focus of questions asked the most by our customers. Honestly, we wish there was a simple answer. The truth is that it's just not that simple, thread count is one metric that should be looked at when considering sheets.

I still remember the first time I heard about thread count. I was getting married, and Sherry talked of how important it was to getting good sheets: ones that are comfortable and made to last. I then suddenly understood why my cheap college dorm sheets were uncomfortable and full of holes. There was not enough raw material to sustain the fabric.

Thread count in sheets can range from 80 to 700, although most stores sell sheets that range from 180 to 320. In general, the higher the thread count, the softer the fabric feels, but that doesn't necessarily mean the sheets will last longer (and sheets with a higher thread count are usually more expensive).

This got me to thinking: How's my "spiritual thread count"? Is the fabric of my character and feel too thin? Am I prone to become threadbare; to fray around the edges?

2nd Peter 1:5 For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness, love. For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. But if anyone does not have them, he is nearsighted and blind, and has forgotten that he has been cleansed from his past sins.

Recently, many linens manufacturers have touted thread count as the best way to choose a sheet. But others point out that the quality of the fibers and finish are more important to the sheet's comfort and durability. How's your social/spiritual thread count? Does high quality spiritual fiber and finish add to your comfort and durability, and make those around you feel at home?

If fraying around the edges is an ongoing problem, try "reweaving" (look it up). Add quality fabrics....and keep the thread count high.

Love Remains

Shortly before my twins were born over 13 years ago, my youngest sister had her wedding.    In that wedding was music from a singer named Collin Raye.   Moved by the moment and the music, I did what many do: I ran out and began to download on iTunes, I mean steal on Napster, er, purchase a cassette tape (you old people like me know what one of those is) of the album containing that music.    I listened to that tape so much over the next year, I practically wore it out (a common problem of several years ago with the generation I inhabit).    Enough silliness on my part this morning, because I don't want to water down the point.

Our mother, grandmother, and great grandmother, Hazel Bingham, passed on a couple of days ago, and we spent time moving her things from the nursing home last night.   We've been preparing for this day for many years, but the reality is still painful.     The nursing home staff showered us with stories of how special she was, how kind she was to them, and how much they loved her.    She was with them for 4 years, and her mind, memory, and wit were sharp till almost the very end.

In my mind last night, I somehow went back to the many hours in the car from 1997, and listening to the song "Love Remains" from that old cassette tape.     Images of family past, my lovely wife Sherry, our kids, and good friends raced thru my mind, along with the thought "how can time have passed so quickly?".

Ecclesiastes 3:  For everything there is a season, a time for every activity under heaven. 

A time to be born and a time to die.   A time to plant and a time to harvest........

.....A time to cry and a time to laugh.
A time to grieve and a time to dance.

The lyrics to the referenced song follow.    I've watched a couple of homemade videos on YouTube this morning, and it's clear that many are moved in the same way as I by these words.    I hope they mean something to you as well.

"Love Remains", by Collin Raye:

We are born one fine day

Children of God on our way
Mama smiles daddy cries
Miracle before their eyes
They protect us till we're of age
Through it all love remains

Boy moves on takes a bride

She stands faithful by his side 

Tears and sweat they build a home

 Raise a family of their own

They share joy they share pain

Through it all love remains

Kingdoms come and go but they don't last
Before you know the future is the past
In spite of what's been lost or what's been gained
We are living proof that love remains

I don't know baby what I'd do
On this earth without you
We all live we all die
But the end is not goodbye
The sun comes up seasons change
Through it all love remains
An eternal burning flame
Hope lives on and love remains

musings on "Bruce"

A martial artist, I am not.    And yet, the influence of the martial arts in our American culture today is significant.    Growing up, my youth minister often referred to the movie "Kung Fu", starring David Carradine as a renegade man wandering the countryside making a difference with his feet and his philosophy.   "The Karate Kid" has now come full circle from my youth to be remade for the theater.

When she was a small child, I would play "Kung Fu" with my oldest daughter.    She would stand across the room before we began our "fight", and say "I bow to you, Bruce".     I would say "Bruce who?"    Her response was often "Bruce You", but most often, the famed "Bruce Lee".

I was watching one day last week, and "Dragon, the Bruce Lee Story" came on.    Interesting movie, wistful, mystical musical score throughout, and a sad story of love found and lost, and a life spent too fast or too hard chasing a dream.

Aside from being an incredible martial artist, Bruce Lee deemed himself a philosopher, and even suggested a new form of the martial arts and a philosophy he dubbed Jeet Kune Do (The Way of the Intercepting Fist).

Some of his thoughts (courtesy of Wikipedia) included the following:

"Do not deny the classical approach, simply as a reaction, or you will have created another pattern and trapped yourself there."

"Quick temper will make a fool of you soon enough."

"I always learn something, and that is: to always be yourself. And to express yourself, to have faith in yourself. Do not go out and look for a successful personality and duplicate him."

"It's not the daily increase but daily decrease. Hack away at the unessential."

Despite these great ideas, his life, his passion, his fears, his failures, and his nightmares ultimately consumed him.    He was chased by demons in his own mind and from his past.

The family he loved and wanted to be there for, he ultimately stayed away from, eventually costing him his life at a young age.

What dreams are we chasing?   What sound philosophy are we espousing, but not really living up to?   What demons are we wrestling with?   Are we running away from the ones we love, the very people who are in our lives as an opportunity to remain grounded and sane?   Are we running away from God?

Romans 8:38-39:  No power on earth or heaven can separate us from God's love. Not our sin, not any authority, not any spiritual force. God's love is unshakable and can always be relied upon.

Another man ran from God.   His name was Jonah, and the contradictions of Bruce Lee's life pale in comparison.    Maybe another future blog topic...

Be still

I love early mornings, especially as I "mature" in years. Mornings are uber quiet, and have a unique "still" quality about them. Reading, thinking, walking, praying, or enjoying a good cup of coffee, the morning is unlike all other times of the day. You can feel the stillness.

No TV blaring, kids are asleep (like most of us should be more often) no traffic moving, few people out for any reason; just the strong hushed presence of the wind and the early morning song of the birds as the first rays of light creep over the horizon. I can feel the stillness, and I can sense that God is all around me, not hidden or drowned out by other noise and activity.

Psalm 46:10 came to mind this morning:
"Be still, and know that I am God;
       I will be exalted among the nations,
       I will be exalted in the earth."

I need to know that. I need to celebrate that. I need to proclaim that.

I should be still more often.

Transitions

Been away from blogging for a while; 7 months to be exact.    Been distracted?    Maybe.     Probably.   OK, it's been an interesting time. 

Going to give it another shot here.

I received a wonderful email blessing from a mentor, friend, and brother yesterday.      His message was entitled, "Transitions", and he spoke of my oldest daughter's upcoming graduation, my grandmother's recent passing (he's long been a friend of my extended family), and of all the stresses and obligations life throws at us, and his concern and thoughts about me during this time of "Transitions".

"Baby Hannah grew and grew; just like me, just like you.   Clap clap clapped her little hands, and she played, peek-a-boo".    It seems like only yesterday, but, as the little song says, she grew.     The two year old of yesteryear is now a thriving young lady, and drawing the interest of young men.

She's graduating from HS in two weeks, then a transitional summer, and off to college.    We have a great relationship, she, her mother, siblings, and I.   And yet, already, we can feel the change in the air.    Independence, judgement, deciding for herself irrespective of what we might, or did, suggest.    And we have to be OK with that.     Years of loving, teaching, sharing, and it's time to let her go.
We lost my grandmother of 94 years about two weeks ago.     She was a great example, Christian mentor, and friend.     She taught us so much.   She played "peek a boo" with us when it was my time.       It seemed like only yesterday, but as the little song says, I grew.      The two year old of yesterday is now a 44 year old man, watching her great granddaughter become a thriving young lady, drawing the interest of young men.

Time took it's toll.     She fought the good fight, she finished the race, she kept the faith.     My other grandmother, 96 years young, is struggling with her final days in a nursing home near my father's house.     Years of loving, teaching, sharing, and it's time to let both of them go.

Transitions; no one said they would be easy, and yet, they are required.

Our relationships change.     Our lives change, our kids grow, our own health and strength slowly begin to wain.    And yet, the time can be sweet, and we know it's how it's supposed to be.     Heaven is our destination; the home we were created to reach and share with our God.

And along the way, when you begin to wonder or worry about how things are, and how well you are handling it, a good friend and mentor comes along to bless you, encourage you, and lead you through life's "Transitions".     God's providence, at work in the life of another.

Who can I bless tomorrow?    Who can you bless?     Are we ready to help someone with their next transition?

Pickpockets; I Can Only Imagine

Ever been "pickpocketed"?    I had not, until recently.   When I was, a big overblown show took place before I ever knew something was going on - something involving me.

The scene was an outdoor cafe in Vienna.    One of my colleagues and I were having lunch with a mission team member in Vienna, discussing the city, real estate, the Church, and the mind and hearts of Europeans.    The day was beautiful, the setting was ideal, and the feeling of everyone around was comfort and safety.

Suddenly, there was instant pandemonium.    Men were screaming, and 2 men jumped up from tables surrounding ours and took off running.    Our waiter took off running after one of the men, running at full speed and shouting at him, I can only assume saying "stop" or "come back".    I don't know for sure, as it was in German, and maybe another language or two.     When the waiter returned, he pointed to me and began asking questions.    The mission team member, astounded, finally understood and translated for me: "they took something from your pocket".    I was bewildered, astounded, and frightened.    After a few harrowing seconds that felt like an eternity, I finally realized that I still had my passport, my cell phone, and other important things.    What did the thief actually get?    A mass transit pass with about 3 days of value remaining.     But, he also took some of my confidence.    For much of the rest of the day, I was paranoid, fearful, watching my back.

It was all so subtle.    Two men selected tables close to ours.    They were dressed like many others.   They seemed to belong.    And they slowly, methodically, and boldly worked their way into our space, until finally they were close enough to take things that did not belong to them, to create chaos at the appropriate moment, and to escape with their "prize".

Was I harmed?    Not really, but in a way, yes.      But this made me think: "isn't this much like the way Satan attacks us?".      Comfortable settings, acting like he belongs, slowly working his way in.    And then, it's too late.   The damage has been done.    We were comfortable, and we never saw the attack coming?    Were we complacent?    Maybe.    Were we deceived?    Absolutely.     Kind of reminds you of the story of Adam and Eve, and the Serpent, huh?

Scripture tells us that "the devil prowls as a lion, seeking whom he may devour".      I have sat in my front yard and, with amazement, watched our cat at work.    Stalking, prowling, seeking her prey, preparing to pounce, preparing for the kill.     And a killer she is.    I am amazed how she gets birds to hold still long enough to get them, but she's close to a 10 bird killer: a double ace, at least.      The scriptural analogy is amazing to ponder.

So we watch.    Is the loss of confidence a bad thing?    Maybe not.    It hurts, but it also helps us keep guard.    And this is not our home, anyway.     Not losing your passport is a big thing.      God calls us to protect our spiritual passport: our ticket to eternity - our heart - our soul.     "Guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life".     Proverbs 4:23.

Hang on to your passport.    The country we are travelling toward is a promising destination.     "Surrounded by your glory; what will my heart feel?    Will I dance for you, Jesus, or in awe of you be still?    Will I stand in Your presence, or to my knees will I fall?     Will I sing "Hallelujah"?    Will I be able to speak at all?     I can only imagine; I can only imagine." (MercyMe).

Mit Gott - "With God".

on the other side of the world; Holy Spirit moments; things we fight about; life comes at you fast; culture compression

Whether foreign land, or neighbors, everyone's the same. Searching for the answers, that lie within Your name. I wanna proclaim the love of Jesus, in all I do and say. Unashamed? Oh, yeh. These lyrics to a Mercy Me tune have been running thru my head this week, along with a thousand other things.




One of my newly inherited job responsibilities at OC this past year has been assisting in our facilities planning for our Vienna Studies program at OC, and, you guessed it, I have been blessed to go to Vienna, once last year, and right now, where I'm typing this from tonight. There's the explanatory background for you.



Lots of new or renewed experiences this week. Because of the very low airfares (yes, I do try to save money), my colleague from OC and I traveled this week thru Munich instead of directly to Vienna. That required we get a car, and, you guessed it, that we had to drive on the Autobahn. Tough deal. More on that later.



This also provided opportunity for me to revisit a family I have not seen in 21 years; "meine Deustche famile" (my Germany family) from a church campaign over 20 years ago. They live in a town just outside of Munich (Augsburg), and I had opportunity to meet them for dinner Saturday night and worship with the Augsburg church before heading to Vienna later that day. It was wonderful. Everyone was so gracious. I got more hugs in a church building than I've had in years. They knew I was coming that day. One man had looked me up in Google and knew I had something to do with "borrowing some money to build something" (great legacy), and another approached me and said "you are the American boy!".

I was asked to speak to the church at the end of the service, and while I said a few things to them "auf Deustch", they had an interpreter both during the sermon, for my benefit, and to tell the church what I had to say. It was an amazing experience. I am not one to often admit to or claim to have had "Holy Spirit moments" but I felt them this past Sunday. I have often wondered about the meaning of a word, "Botschaft", that I heard often 20 years ago in prayers during that campaign. The few German speakers I have inquired of could not define it for me. As class began on Sunday, I was switching back and forth on the iPhone Bible between German and English for the topic of the day, and there it was in verse 1 of Obadja (Obadiah) 1:1. It means tidings or message from God. I went all the way back to Germany to finally get the answer I had wondered about for two decades. Then the sermon: Not being disappointed or disillusioned when life delivers setbacks, financial, health, and otherwise. The preacher this Sunday was the retired long time preacher, and a man I knew when I was here before. He only preaches 6 or so times a year due to his health. He called me up before it started and shared an outline with me in English, and he had someone sit with me and translate. It was wonderful, and it was a message I very much needed to be reminded about. I needed this "botschaft". Sherry could not make this trip, partly for duty to the kids, but in large part due to heath concerns. The financial world continues to make life difficult, for families, for Universities, for churches, for businesses. We need to see that life is so much more, and these trials are temporary.

As we drove on to Vienna later Sunday, I watched the view thru the Alps and the green countryside, and remembered scenes from CS Lewis' "The Great Divorce" and the imagery of the pain of working our way toward Heaven and what we need to let go of on the journey. I thought about if Heaven looks like southern Bavaria and the Alpine mountains. Beautiful land; beautiful people. Of course, all people are, especially in God's eyes. But not too many decades ago, our people fought each other to bitter ends. Noble purpose dually noted and aside, fighting is an evil thing that brings out the worst in almost all men. And here we were on Sunday, generations from that era and generations since, worshipping God side by side in two languages, showing love for each other, and longing for a day without pain and sorrow.

What things do we disagree and fight about today? As families? As friends? As coworkers? Noble purposes dually noted and aside, does the fighting take control and end up causing collateral damage? I need to think about that; we all do.

Life comes at you fast. What does that mean? It's a phrase from a popular commercial for an insurance company right now. Driving on the Autobahn, briefly (very briefly, but you can't say I would not want to try once), let's just say I got to the triple digits for MPH. It was fun, but it did not feel that fast, until I glanced to the side and saw how fast everything was going by. I was missing things moving past, and there was inherent danger in the speed.

Which leads to my final line of thought, then I've got to go to bed. 1:22+ am here in Wien, and I have meetings starting at 8:00 am and running all day. My colleague and I have talked this week about the feeling of culture shock: everything is so different from our home. But, is it more "culture overload", or "culture compression"? My days are going by just as quickly as at home, but the minutes feel long. Each experience is soaking in: the images, the sounds, the ideas and thoughts. Expressions on people's faces; what a place looks, sounds, and smells like. Conversations in other languages, some of which I can understand and most I cannot. It is all being compressed and processed actively by my brain, and it makes the 4 days so far feel like 4 year's worth of experiences. The culture is being compressed in my brain. It took weeks to move beyond the feeling last year, and I suspect it may again.

And a sense of loneliness unlike you usually feel. Others are around; some can speak English; my colleague and I are spending significant hours together visiting as we work. But it is different. I miss "home" and the feeling of familiarity: of what I "know". My hope and prayer is that, in returning to that soon, I won't be going 108 miles an hour (oops, meant to not reveal that; OK, I did) and that I will still soak in facial expressions, conversations, and cultural moments with those I miss the most.

From the other side of the world. Guten nacht, meine freunden!