I felt very blessed to be able to find an affordable plane ticket from Amsterdam to Minneapolis -- leaving on only the second day after the ash cloud started to clear out over Europe -- so that I could attend my grandmother's funeral in North Dakota.  But I had no idea just how incredible the level of blessing would be.  It was beautiful to be able to remember my grandmother's life, together with so many other family members and friends.  It was powerful to be able to hug my grandfather, hold his hand at the funeral, and speak words of support, love, and encouragement to him in the face of his catastrophic loss (he loved Grandma so very much).  But perhaps what surprised me the most turned out how wonderful it was to have our whole family together -- even if it had to be for Grandma's funeral.

Our family is so spread out -- not just to three different cities in Ohio, but to Texas and the Netherlands as well -- that it's a special occasion whenever we can all be in the same place.  But because of the last-minute circumstances of coming for Grandma's funeral, there was the extra dynamic of it being just our family (me and the five other people with whom I grew up), with no spouses and no children.  I shared a hotel room with my brothers.  We drove together in cars again.  We ate meals together.  And we got to interact with each other while simultaneously getting to see several relatives that we (or at least I) hadn't seen for decades.  As weird as it sounds to say it, we really had a lot of fun at Grandma's funeral.

Is it sacriligious to say it?  Is it inappropriate to find such joy in such circumstances?  I don't know.  All I can say is that we cried together, but we also got to laugh a lot together.  We put the rest of our lives on hold this week to mourn a significant death, but this afforded us the opportunity to experience a different kind of liveliness together as a family.  We came to see our grandmother laid to rest, but we also got to see the World's Largest Buffalo.

[For what it's worth:  I would advise viewing the above photo collage at a larger size, here on the Flickr page, in order to get the full effect]

In particular, it was really special to spend some time together with my brothers and sister, in between the post-funeral family visitation and the late evening private family hang-out at Grandpa's house.  And yes, we got to do this in the context of Jamestown's most celebrated landmark:  the world's largest buffalo (and its accompanying "Frontier Village").  We talked about serious stuff as we walked around together, processing Grandma's death a bit; but we also spent a lot of time goofing off and taking fun pictures of each other.  I guess you could say that we got to celebrate Grandma's legacy by simply being a family together that afternoon.

The sun set far too quickly on our time together as a family -- but at least we got to watch it set together, on the prairie overlooking the James River valley, up beyond our grandparents' house where we used to play together as children.  I'm so glad that everything worked out for us all to be there for Grandma's funeral.

[In case you might be interested in seeing more pictures from our family's time together, a couple dozen of my favorite shots (taken almost entirely by my brother Jay and my sister Anna) are posted in the Family Pictures section of the website.]

When I remember my Grandma Liechty, I remember her sweetness.  Just like her cinnamon rolls, Grandma was all warmth and comfort, cinnamon and sugar.  She was always smiling and chuckling and sharing amusing anecdotes in her distinct North Dakoootan lilt:  "Well, ya knooow, I remember when you were a little boy, and yer mom was just gettin' ready to have another little one..." and then she'd go on to recount -- with great fondness and happy reminiscence -- how I impishly used magic markers to create a new pattern on the living room couch or something like that.  So many of her stories were about little children and animals.  That says something about her, too, doesn't it?  Children and animals and my Grandma Liechty are some of the purest expressions of innocence and sweetness that we may ever know.  I honestly cannot recall a single occasion in which my Grandma demonstrated anger beyond a momentary shaking of her head and indistinct muttering of "Oh fer gooodness."  And even then, she did not dwell on these unpleasant things for any longer than a moment.  But here's what's really amazing:  that's actually how she viewed the world!  I lived with Grandma and Grandpa for a whole summer in Jamestown, and I witnessed first-hand the sincerity of her sweetness.  It was not an act, put on for others.  It was not a way of manipulating others.  It was just her way.  It was her sweet character.

When I remember my Grandma Liechty, I remember her unflappability.  It's an awkward, old-fashioned word -- but I really do think it's the best one to describe this aspect of my Grandma's personality.  Her cinnamon-roll sweetness was remarkable enough -- but to realize how consistent, how unswerving, how perpetual her sweetness actually was (along with all other manner of goodness that was wrapped up in my grandmother).  Her emotional presence brought the joy and enthusiasm of a sporty, black Plymouth Laser (with electronic displays and vocal commands, just like the car from "Knight Rider"); though she also carried the calmness and steadiness of a broad, burgundy Oldsmobile 88.  It seemed like nothing could phase my Grandma!  She was completely unflappable.  I should know:  because I got to witness her response to 373 miles' worth of driving with a back-seat full of pre-adolescent boys who spent the entire time cracking themselves up with stupid jokes, making up their own Latino-themed Christmas songs, singing those Latino-themed Christmas songs repeatedly, and otherwise antagonizing her (and Grandpa) all the way from Phoenix to Los Angeles.  Yes, believe it or not, even in those most desperate of circumstances, Grandma remained pleasant, positive, and even complimentary (she thought our Latino-themed Christmas songs were, and here I quote, "wonderful")!  Now seriously:  if that's not unflappability, I don't know what is.

When I remember my Grandma Liechty, I remember her faithfulness.  Through all her years, she was true to her family, to her husband, and to her God in a way that seems almost mythological in our day and age.  Grandma lived according to the promises she had made, the relationships she had nurtured, and the convictions she had developed in her heart.  And yet her faithfulness even extended to the unfamiliar, the uncomfortable, the unembraced.  As far as I could tell, Grandma simply chose to believe the best about other people and extend the benefit of the doubt -- however small that doubt might be.  She spoke in loving terms of others, even when the rest of the people in the room might be inclined towards gossip or unkind words.  These are the circumstances in which faith is tested and proved pure -- when no one else would have needed to know -- and Grandma had this kind of faithfulness and integrity in abundance.

I love the memory of my Granmda Liechty.  I think I will always remember her sweetness, her unflappability, and her faithfulness.  Yet even more than remembering these things about my Grandma, I hope to emulate them, and encourage my children to emulate them -- for generation upon generation, so that the memory of Grandma will never fade.  So help me God...

Today, I learned that my Grandma passed away.  The funeral is being planned for Thursday or Friday.  And suddenly, all of my family's grief, all the CNN news reports, all the travel restrictions, and all those clouds of volcanic ash from Iceland came tumbling down on my head.

I immediately found myself living inside the news story -- wishing and scratching and scrambling for an airline ticket to Minneapolis.  Unfortunately, they're a bit hard to come by these days.  Just this evening, the Dutch Minister of Transportation revealed that some of the national airspace is finally being opened up after being shut down for the better part of a week (in response to the eruption of the Eyjafjallajökull volcano on Iceland and subsequent ash plume fall-out).  Within an hour after the announcement, Marci and I heard the first jets roaring over our neighborhood again.  But even so, the back-log of travelers is severe.  They're all in a hurry to get to their homes, their jobs, their families, their weddings, and their funerals.  So I'm just one of a crowd, with limited options for getting back to be with my family during this time of mourning.

I realize that things could be a whole lot worse.  I'm with my wife and my children.  I'm staying in my own home.  My extended family back in the United States is remarkably understanding about the challenges that might prevent me from being at Grandma's funeral.  And with the recent chain of events that has opened up some possibility for air travel, even my immediate situation is not all hopeless.  Still, it's hard to be stuck like this.  Situations like this are the worst, when it comes to living so far away from my homeland and my loved ones.

The odd thing is:  even though I'm living under a vast cloud of ash, here in Amsterdam, I look outside and can't see anything unusual.  The skies are blue.  Spring is in the air.  It's one of the most beautiful times of the year in Amsterdam.  I guess I'm only just now starting to notice the ash.

[25 more pictures available in the Family Pictures section of the website]

I'm woken by the soft, slanted sunlight dancing on the far wall of our bedroom.  Light the color of koffiemelk or cinnamon butter.  The walls, the ceiling, the bedcovers -- all creamy and cool.  Birds are chirping, warbling, singing outside.  Beyond the bedroom door, there is the sound of children playing and singing, and there is the sound of their mother hushing them while pouring breakfast cereal into their bowls.  But I don't have to be up yet; it's my turn to sleep in.  There is justice in my laziness, and this makes it all the more delicious.

When I finally emerge from the bedroom, I am wearing flannel pants printed with barnyard animals.  The imprint of creased sheets and pillowcases is on my face, and I smile a "good morning" to my lovelies.  A very good morning.

After a bowl of my own breakfast cereal, Cor and I shave.  He's only two and a half, with cheeks as soft as a parachute, but he takes his shaving seriously.  I dip his plastic razor into the water and hand it back to him.  I look into the mirror, Cor looks at me, and we both scrape our faces gently, using our left hands to check and make sure that we blaze smooth trails across our faces.  When he's had enough, he says "All done," and hands his razor back to me.  I finish up and then tell the children to get their socks and shoes on.  I tell them to brush their hair and find their coats.  I tell them that I'm going to take a little shower, and then we're going to take a walk together.

Shaved, showered, and shoed, we step out into the spring morning.  Brilliant blue skies stand out behind orange-tiled rooftops.  The sun is glorious, soaking into my dark jacket, giving it an almost iridescent quality, like the feathers of a blackbird.  We gasp about the glorious weather.  We talk about which parks we want to visit, which waterfowl we hope to see at the canal.  Elliot is partial to "diver-birds" (grebes).  Olivia likes the ducks.  Cor is especially fond of the coots.  I like them all, though I consider a swan to be an especially noteworthy sighting.  We all agree that seagulls are the worst:  so gangish, so greedy, so mean.  On this morning, however, there aren't many birds at all:  just a few pigeons and two mallard ducks.  We gaze at them for a few minutes, though Cor keeps asking where the coots are.  "Coot?  Coot?  Daddy, coot?"

We walk further, no hurry, no agenda.  The sun and the walk have warmed us to the point that we must unzip our coats.  Today, we decide to stop for a bottle of juice and a muffin.  Between bites, we read coffee-stained children's books:  "Tonnie in Bad" and "Teletubbies Doen Elkaar Na."  They're not such good stories, but nobody seems to mind.  After finishing our snack, we return to the cool spring air, ambling our way home by way of the butcher shop.  We're recognized as regulars by the brothers and their wives who run the shop, and before we leave they always ask, "Plakje worst?" The kids nod and say, "Ja, graag," and then they are given complimentary slices of grilled sausage (which Cor calls cookies).  We get home close to lunch time, which is blissfully close to rest time.

There is no point to this story -- just as there is no point to these mornings.  I have to say, though, that pointlessness and Saturday mornings have to be some of the loveliest things of all.

Did you see my post from yesterday, about the e-mail from Pakistan?  Have you had any chance to consider how you would respond to such an e-mail, outlining and explaining the basics elements of the Christian faith?  I had a couple of people remark to me about the scenario, basically encouraging me to take the e-mail seriously and give it a thoughtful response -- but I didn't get much direct feedback about what kind of content might be included in such a "thoughtful response."  Of course, whether you post your thoughts on the internet for everyone to read or not, I really do think it's an interesting and valuable exercise to consider.

At any rate, I thought I would let you know how I responded to the e-mail in question.  Here's what I ended up sending back to Mr. Chand:

Mir,

Thank you for your e-mail.  I'd be glad to help you learn more about Christianity.

Do you have access to a Bible?  If you cannot find one in print, there are also on-line versions of the Bible, for example:  www.biblegateway.com and www.biblija.net (which offer translations in various languages).  Reading the Bible is really the best way to learn about what we believe.  The most essential part of our faith is based on the life, teachings, death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus, and a good start for reading about these things might be in the Gospel of John (which is a part of the Bible).  The Letter to the Romans (another part of the Bible) also does a very good job of explaining the basis of the Christian faith along with things like prayer and worship.  These sections of the Bible would also help a lot with answering your question about how you could come to believe in Jesus and become a Christian.

If you come across any questions in your reading of the Bible, I'd be glad to try my best to answer your questions.  I pray that God will guide you into all wisdom and truth…

Eric

So what do you think?  Is that a good response?  What would you maybe add?  Or take away?  Or say differently?  What are the most essential elements of the Christian faith?  How would you go about communicating these essential elements to someone from a different culture, with absolutely no church background?  What might it look like to be a Christian in, say, Pakistan -- as opposed to the Netherlands or the United States of America?

Like I said, I think it's a valuable exercise to consider.

Speaking of correspondence, I recently received an interesting (though perhaps slightly suspicious) e-mail from Pakistan.  You never know, with these types of things, if they're ultimately con artists trying to butter you up for cash or what... But just before deleting the message, I paused and considered:  What if it is a sincere e-mail?  And even if it were to end up being a back-door plea for wiring money to a faraway land, how would I respond to a sincere, simple, basic request such as this?  What do you think about the following e-mail?

Dear Pastor,

I am from Pakistan and I belong to Hindu religion. I am very interested to learn about other religions, visiting some Christian websites I knew many things about Christianity and it helps me to increase my knowledge. I want to tell you that I want to learn more in deep about Christianity therefore I am writing this email to you in the hope that you will guide me for further teachings.

May I know how is Christian faith based on? How is Christian payer and worships?

Thank you for your help and I hope I have not given you too much trouble. How if some one come to believe in Jesus and become Christian?

Sincerely,

Mir Chand

Pakistan

It's an interesting challenge, to consider distilling the essence of the gospel and the Christian faith into a simple, easy-to-read e-mail.  So how would you respond to Mr. Chand in Pakistan (or to your co-worker, or neighbor, or family member who might ask similar questions someday)?

I'll share my reply here tomorrow (yes, I did already decide to send a response to the e-mail).  But in the meantime, I'd be curious to hear what you think of it...

I'm surprised by how few Amsterdammers have heard of LeBron James, professional basketball superstar with the Cleveland Cavaliers.  Their knowledge of basketball seems to have been frozen since 1998, with Michael Jordan and the Chicago Bulls.  In other parts of Europe (and in places like China and South America), basketball has been booming... but not in the Netherlands.  It's still very much a niche sport around here.

But at the very least, LeBron James has at least one adoring fan here in Amsterdam:  my son Elliot (though I might as well add myself to that list as well).  Not only is he currently the best player in our favorite sport -- he's also an Ohio boy, playing for an Ohio team.  So whenever we're playing basketball (be it at the playground or in our basement), Elliot always takes on the persona of LeBron James.  Yesterday evening, as we were shooting around in the basement, Elliot came up with the idea to send a letter to LeBron.  So after finishing our shoot-around, Elliot and I sat down together and penned the following correspondence:

Dear Mr. James,

I love basketball.  Me and my Dad play basketball in the basement.  Our record was 3 shots made in a row.  But today I beat the record by getting 5!

I was wondering if you could beat the record.  Could you come to my house?  I live in Amsterdam.  It’s a long way from Cleveland, but I saw one of your games.  Do you remember one of your first games in the season, when you lost against the Rockets in Houston?  And you remember how you won against them in Cleveland?  When you won against them, I was at your game.

Can you tell me your address?  My aunt lives in Cleveland.  I won’t be back in Ohio until this summer, but you could come and visit me before that.  Or after.

My name is Elliot.  I’m eight years old.  Two weeks ago I turned eight.  I have long blond hair, and I love sports.  I was born in America, but only lived there for 10 months.  Now, I live in Amsterdam.  Amsterdam is in Europe.  It’s in a small country called Holland.  There are not many people who play basketball.  They all play soccer.  Soccer is not something for me.  Basketball is what I play.  It’s not easy to play basketball, and I can’t go on a team.  But I still like to play, even though I can’t go on a team.  Maybe if you came here, then you could help me teach basketball.  It would show them that basketball is cool.

Just so you know, we don’t use cars so much.  If you want to go to a restaurant, often you just take your bike.  Amsterdam has cool houses by the water.  And the basketball court near our house has a really high hoop, so you have plenty of room to jump high.  I know you can jump super-high.

I could maybe try to show you my school.  I’d have a hard time getting them to believe that you were a famous basketball player.  They don’t know beans about basketball.  If you came here, I could translate for you because I’ve been in Amsterdam for 7 years.  My Dutch is pretty good.

Love,

Elliot

P.S. – Good luck in the play-offs.  Go Cavaliers!

I'm going to be very curious to see if or how such a letter might be answered.  We've warned Elliot that his chances of receiving a personal reply are not very high.  But I have to admit that I can't help hoping for a response from the King (one of LeBron James' nicknames, playing off of the "King James" version of the Bible) himself.  Stuff like this is silly, but fun.

The effects of the global economic recession have been less severe in Amsterdam than in many other parts of the world.  But there are signs of its impact.  A couple of banks being bought out by the government over the past couple of years, houses taking longer than usual to sell, and international monetary exchange rates yo-yo'ing considerably from month to month... Several neighborhood businesses have also shut down in recent months.  Nothing major.  Honestly, they're the kind of businesses that always seemed a bit improbable, anyway:  a shop selling old audio cassette tapes, a men's boutique specializing only in sweaters, that type of thing.  But to me, these are some of the ways that I notice the economic climate in Amsterdam.

There's this one particular men's clothing store that has just recently shut down, and I found it odd how the storefront was arranged after the business had been evacuated.  That is, they cleared out everything except for seven identical -- completely naked -- mannequins.

Four of them are still positioned in the front window, looking at each other with lifeless eyes.  And three of them are lying, half-dismantled, on the floor, looking around like factory workers on a smoking break.  It strikes me as a very bizarre, very poignant signal of the failed business.  The mannequins literally lost their shirts in the financial downturn.  Life goes on, and the mannequins continue to make do as best they can.  But it's a little bit awkward in the meantime.

A friend of mine is getting ready to launch a new ministry in the Italian Alps, seeking to help facilitate people's connection with God through experiences in the great outdoors (it sounds like a really great initiative, which is really starting to pick up steam).  To support this new endeavor, he's launched a new website:  www.intothewilderness.eu.  And knowing about my personal hobbies, he recently asked me for some advice about blogging and website development.  Certainly, I'm not an expert in these things, and I told my friend that I didn't really have any polished, succint listing of tips that I've picked up through the years.  But I did have a few scattered ideas that might be helpful.  And I thought I might share this list here in this space as well.  Here are a few of the random thoughts that came to my mind:

• Quantity of posting is more important than quality of posting:  When it comes to generating web traffic and maintaining followers, it's important to post more often than to ensure that "the perfect post" is sitting there, waiting for readers.  The major search engines refer queries to the most recent posts on a given topic -- so it's important to always have something fresh.  I generally post 10-18 times per month (although I know other, more serious bloggers who do it much more frequently!).
• Use simple language expressing sincere thoughts and emotions, more than trying to maintain any slick PR presence.
• Encourage comments and make a point to regularly respond to comments (within the comment section of the blog itself), so people will keep coming back to carry on the dialogue within your web space.
• Write about stuff that's meaningful to you:  a sweet spot you found to go fly-fishing… photographs from the excursions… specific, personal, bullet-point highlights from the excursions (i.e. "that morning when Alessandro fell into the river")… sharing the joys of the wilderness with your children… a great prayer time that you had while hiking through the mountains… These are just a few guesses of things that you might be able to write about.  But it's most important that the material be interesting for you -- not what you think might be interesting for your readers.  This is the only way you'll be able to keep up any frequency of posting, and oddly enough this is what makes a blog most interesting to follow.
• Use a lot of sensory cues when you write (what things smelled like, tasted like, felt like, sounded like, looked like).
• Keep your posts short (500 words or less).
• If you don't feel like you're really going to be able to keep up a blog (at least one post per week), I would recommend that you just scrap the blog idea and keep it to being a sort of on-line, electronic brochure (which has its own usefulness).  A lifeless blog is worse than having no blog at all.

What do you think of these tips?  Would you agree with my advice, or would you contradict any of my suggestions?  Are there any other random tips that you would add to such a list?  It's interesting for me to note that I don't always stick to my own ideals, when it comes to blogging!  But these are at least interesting things to think about... I'd be very curious to get feedback from anyone else who might have his or her own opinions and experiences in these matters (and if anything good comes up, I'll pass it along to my friend, too!).

It's official.  Elliot has now completed his culturally-mandated swimming lessons and graduated with high honors.  Today, he received his covted Zwemdiploma A (Swimming Diploma, Level A), and we were there to witness the occasion.

For all the cynicism that I've expressed previously (primarily related to the ways that social pressure is applied to make parents pay large amounts of money for a skill set that most American children learn gradually, under much less stringent conditions, and with a much lower price tag), I have to admit that it was a pretty cool experience to witness this classic Dutch rite of passage.  I felt very proud to see that my son was able to fight through his fears -- marked by weekly terrified, tear-wrenching episodes -- for several months in a row in order to achieve this milestone.

The official requirements for this level of certification are as follows:

WHILE WEARING STREET CLOTHES:

1. From a 1-meter diving platform, jump into the water feet-first (going completely under the water); and after rising to the water's surface, continuing to
2. Tread water for 15 seconds, using both arms and legs, follwed by
3. Swimming the breast-stroke for 12.5 meters, diving under a line, making a half-turn on the horizontal axis and
4. Swimming the back-stroke for 12.5 meters (arms may be actively employed); ending the exam with
5. Climbing out of the water, independently (potentially with the use of a ladder), at the side of the pool.

WHILE WEARING SWIMMING ATIRE:

1. From the side of the pool or a diving platform, jump into the water (preferably with a head-first dive), directly followed by (without surfacing)
2. Orienting oneself under water and swimming, while submerged, through a hole in a vertically-positioned wall in the water placed 3 meters from the starting wall; after surfacing, continuing to
3. Swim the breast-stroke for 50 meters, ending this portion of the exam with
4. Swimming the simple back-stroke (with passive arms).
5. Then, voluntarily entering the water with a head-first dive, followed by launching from the side of the pool and then continuing to
6. Float for 10 seconds on the chest, followed by a few short meters of the breast-stroke, after which
7. Floating for an additional 5 seconds on the chest, after which a few meters of the breast-stroke.
8. Then, launching from the side of the pool and floating on the back for 10 seconds, after which
9. Swimming for a few short meters with a simple back-stroke, followed by 10 seconds of floating on the back, finishing this portion of the exam with a few meters of the simple back-stroke.
10. Then, from the side of the pool or a diving platform, entering the water with a jump (preferably a head-first dive), followed by 8 meters of beginners-crawl swimming.
11. In the water, pushing off from the wall, swimming for 8 meters of beginners-crawl swimming, followed by
12. 60 seconds of treading water, using arms and legs, in which a complete turn is made at least twice along the vertical axis.

It's hard-core stuff, isn't it?  The Dutch do not mess around, when it comes to their swimming!  They say it's all the water lying around, in the canals and ponds and lakes -- it requires a serious and sober assessment of a child's ability to fend for himself in the water.

Fortunately, Elliot's lessons prepared him well, and he was able to perform all the required tasks with very little difficulty (you can see Elliot in the long-distance photographs by virtue of his orange swimming trunks and black swimming shirt).

What we were not completely prepared for was the festive atmosphere of the swimming pool.

One of the life-guards/instructors wore a head-mounted microphone and entertained the crowd very much like a game-show host.  Most of the kids going for their diplomas had brought not just moms, dads, brothers, and sisters -- but also grandparents and aunts and uncles and neighbors.  There was probably a good 60 or 70 people on hand to witness the occasion!  Wild applause and shouting was encouraged (even expected).  And even while the kids were doing their swimming, there was music playing over the loudspeakers and everyone clapped along in rhythm to the songs.  Everyone was taking pictures and video footage.  And, from what I heard from other parents in the locker rooms afterwards, many of the "graduates" were to be congratulated with gifts when they got home.

Overall, the atmosphere was much more like a children's birthday party than a swimming examination.  In spite of the seriousness of the swimming requirements, there were no clipboards or checklists.  None of the children who were there failed (though I'm guessing that some of the children from Elliot's class were told that they were not yet ready to take the exam).  It really felt more like a celebratory exhibition than a test or a ceremony.

A good time was had by all.

It was especially nice that we got to have some "extended family" -- in the form of our church friends, Naomi, Linda, and Claire -- come to witness the occasion with us.  Elliot was all smiles, posing with his diploma and with everyone who was there at the poolside ceremony.

Afterwards, we went out for ice cream to celebrate.  We didn't really get Elliot any other gifts to mark the occasion (though he didn't seem to mind or expect them).  I think he was just glad to be done with it all -- and to have had the opportunity to shine in the spotlight for an afternoon.  As we were leaving the swimming facilities, the teachers were trying to warn us of the necessity of the children going on to get their B (and eventually their C) diplomas as well.  But we told Elliot that he's allowed to decide if and when he would like to continue his swimming lessons, in the future.

For now, he's just basking in the glory of his A-diploma.

[In case you're interested, there are a few additional photos of the afternoon available for viewing in the Family Pictures section of this website.]

Link: http://proverbs365.ericasp.com

I'm now officially one-quarter of the way through my Proverbs 365 project:  taking a Proverb for each day of the year and then considering it and applying it for 21st Century living.  And it's still going like gang-busters.  In fact, there seemed to be a surge in momentum and in readership over the course of the last month -- which makes it even more instructive and enjoyable, getting to experience the Proverbs in (electronic) community.

So I thought I would continue what has now become something of a monthly tradition -- highlighting three of my personal favorites from the month of March:

One of the month's most meaningful entries for me, personally, was drawn from Proverbs 19:3 where it says, "A man's own folly ruins his life, yet his heart rages against the LORD." It occurred to me that I have, on more than one occasion, thrown myself a pity party when there was no reason for pity.  I can make such a big fuss of the "horrible curses" God has thrown my way -- when in fact the difficult circumstances really result from my own life choices.  In particular, I recalled a cold February night in 2007, when really found myself raging against God.  I'm guessing that others might be able to relate to my experiences.  If so, you may want to take a look at P1903 - Misplaced Rage...

Another highlight from the last month was my post entitled, P1704 - Accomplices.  In it, I consider the questions of how one is really supposed to deal with awkward social situations like someone mouthing off about their boss, or openly insulting one's own spouse, or sharing inappropriate information about one's own vices.  These situations happen all the time.  Proverbs 17:4 says, "A wicked man listens to evil lips; a liar pays attention to a malicious tongue." But how is this really supposed to work itself out in these awkward social situations?  This particular post may not offer any magical answers -- but at least it poses some interesting questions...

And thirdly, one of my most personal entries in the past month was P617a - Pitfalls of Pride.  In this post, I share about one of the most significant moral struggles in my own life:  pride.  I pick apart some of my negative thought processes -- ranging from "The Blame Game," to "The White Knight Complex" -- and I realize how frequently my life can unpleasantly veer towards the "haughty eyes" that are listed in Proverbs 6:17 as one of God's most hated human vices.  I don't know about anyone else, but I definitely know that I was challenged significantly by this particular Proverb in the month of March...

For a more comprehensive listing of March's content, here are the titles of all 31 entries, along with direct links to the rest of the content.

• P118 - Burning Flesh, Bleeding Wounds, and a Nice Big Bowl of Popcorn
• P208 - The Pathmaster
• P305 - Life Mandate
• P425 - Pick Your Line
• P508 - Practicing Peripatetic
• P617a - Pitalls of Pride
• P719 - Long and Gone
• P801 - The God Who is There and Is Not Silent
• P908 - Mockers and Sages
• P1011 - Busting an Agent's Cover
• P1101 - Calibrating the Scales
• P1228 - The Path to Immortality
• P1320 - Call to Community
• P1405 - God's Honest Truth
• P1511 - Sheol, Abaddon, the LORD, and Me
• P1615 - When the Compulsory Education Bureaucrat's Face Brightens
• P1704 - Accomplices
• P1802 - Listening for Heaven's Sake
• P1903 - Misplaced Rage
• P2024 - Following the Inukshuks
• P2105 - Lessons Learned from the Acquisition of a Cherry Bomb
• P2229 - Pining Away on the Island of Obscuritania
• P2331 - Red Red Wine
• P2413 - Sweetness
• P2525 - Coldwater News
• P2602 - An Undeserved Curse Does Not Come to Rest
• P2707 - A Honey-Loathing, Gruel-Gobbling, Crying Shame
• P2801 - Lessons from the Three Amigos
• P2911 - E-mail Wars
• P3017 - Quoth the Raven
• P3121 - When a House Becomes a Home

April promises to be another great month -- so check it out for yourself at http://proverbs365.ericasp.com.  And feel free to spread the word, too... One of the distinct advantages of the Proverbs is that it's easy to tune into them, whenever one might so choose.  It's not like if you missed the first three months, then you're "behind" or anything like that.  The Proverbs are just like these little power pellets that can be consumed and digested immediately.  So it's never too late to start enjoying them!