A Nice Bowl and the Good Book

It is a nice bowl:


I found it back when I had days off while at a Salvation Army thrift store. I paid pennies on the dollar and when I got it home I found that it was made in Turkey. I like everything about it, and its size is ideal. I mused this evening that if each of the major characters in The Good Book had his/her own index card, they’d easily fit in the bowl.

I was reading in Luke and John (Luke on my phone, and John from that well-traveled book), drawing parallels between the accounts of the birth of Jesus in Luke and the entrance into the world of the Word (the existence of that Word [λόγος], of course, simply was in the beginning before said entrance). It is a remarkable and enriching endeavor, such that I will share it tomorrow on Christmas Eve.

I was brought again to tears thinking of the impact of The Entrance and then mused of those others who have played parts in preparing, prophecying, proclaiming, praying, and preaching of it. The names of all of them, if written on an index card, would fit in that nice bowl. And yet . . . dear God, what God has done with the contents of that bowl!

I will say it: I want my name in that bowl, and yours beside it. What a stunning miracle is unfolding throughout continuous history because of one Word! Of the nearly 8 billion of us alive on this earth, we are in the majority this season who dwell upon its significance in a sweetly tender, and sometimes cute way.

I say cute because last evening as I turned a U (a you turn, because I knew I’d have to take a picture and write about it later), I saw two kids with two moms standing beside a table on the side of the road. This was a road at the end of a street, and they were standing there as I turned around, so I called out to them hey, what are you selling?

One of the moms squealed and said this is so awesome it’s the mailman and he’s our first customer and come on kids I think he’s getting out of his truck, and I am pulling onto the road with my flashers on and walking over to the table and I can see the delight in their eyes and some little things on the table and a piece of paper that says $1.00 written by a child’s hand, and I had to compose myself in royal fashion from sobbing at the sight! It was because it was cold, cold out there where they were standing, but their warm hearts just made it all go away and I was warm-ish anyways in many ways and I said oh these are nice and only a dollar and I will take three, two that you pick and one that I will pick. Here they are, so cute:


Standing in the cold and almost dark, happy and smiling and feeling the amazement from an Entrance before time, and its repetition in parallel more than two thousand years ago, it is just as alive today as ever, and shall ever ever be.

I could have named this post “A Predilection for Realized Eschatology” cuz that’s what I have coursing through my veins, but it simply means I want what the Word-Become-Jesus-Flesh asked for: On earth as it is in heaven. Please, Father . . .

Speaking of earth, here is a domestic tip for you. If you need coasters, you can go to the home supply store and pick up some 4″ tiles of your choice. I found some that I like, and they have cork on the reverse as you can see. With a pair of pliers, you can trim the grooved end—gently—and then file it smooth. You can probably scrape it if you do not have a file, or you can even use a fingernail file if you have some cheap ones or a metal one, and then you have this:


Six coasters @ 25 cents each on earth, and $3 for a slice of heaven from some children, and like I said, predilection or not, eschatology is being realized all ’round.

It is His gift, especially at Christmas.