We Give Up — Temporarily

John recorded me singing at church yesterday. It was a memorial for Jeremiah True, and we can see it in the video camera. There's a little problem, though. We can't get it to transfer to the computer. He pushed a wrong button which switched the camera to a different mode. All the video clips which were currently in the camera became invisible on the camera's monitor screen, but are visible when you try to download on the camera. (I'll admit, though, that when you push the download button, all you get is a beep.)

The recording of me singing for Jeremiah is clearly visible and playable on the camera's monitor. However, when you attach it to the computer to download, it disappears. No amount of fussing and button pushing will make it appear for download. We've read the manual. We've tried the Mac and the PC. John sat up trying "just one more thing" until two a.m., even though we're leaving for California this morning and he's pulling a trailer. He's that kind of man. He was the one making the recording, so he blames himself.

I know it's my fault. I thought the camera was so easy I didn't think he needed to practice. Push one button, point and shoot. But there are a lot of buttons, and he doesn't hold the camera the same way I do, so "the one by your right thumb" isn't a very clear instruction. We should have practiced. What he did was turn on the long playing feature, which apparently stores the clip somewhere else or some way else. It also, unfortunately, makes the clip a very low resolution.

My feeling is that we should just wait until we're in California and have the beautiful little church we used to attend available and go down there to St. Matthews and set the camera up and let me play it again. He can record it again. It will be the same song, with the same feelings—how could I ever sing it and not feel what I do for Jeremiah?

Still, I think we'll end up at one of those photo transfer places where they might be able to help us. John thinks that's the way to go, and he's so very often right. Meanwhile, if you're waiting for this... sorry. I haven't been thinking too clearly lately.

Food Court Flash Mob: Hallelujah Chorus

It happened at the Welland Seaway Mall in Ontario, Canada, on November 13, 2010. It's gone viral on YouTube. Over one hundred members of Chorus Niagra, a group of singers from local churches, colleges and homes, infiltrated the mall food court. The video that was taken that day has been watched well over 5 million times.

Because they allow people to embed it, I'm sharing this treasure with you. I hope it brings you the joy I just received when my high school friend Anita sent the link to me. (Thank you, Anita.)

Love Me Like a Dog

I'll admit it's a strange title, but it's such an amazing image that it has stayed with me all day. This morning our church had the youth group lead our early church worship service, even giving the sermon and scripture readings. They did the music as well. It was all handled very well, with reverence and some incredible thought and insight.

Nothing, however, touched me as much as a tall young teen named Geoff. In his portion of the sermon he described God's love in the scriptures, why we are all called to love one another, and how we are to accomplish this. One image he gave was so simple, it overwhelmed me. When he comes home, his dog stops whatever he's doing to come to greet him with such loving enthusiasm, he knows he's loved. There is no doubt. Nothing is more important in the dog's life than letting him know how wonderful it feels to welcome his master home.

I got such a clear picture in my mind of God welcoming me that way, but even happier than one of these furry bundles of friendship. When I've been wrapped up in myself for hours, busy with life in general, and sit down to a meal, turnubf my thoughts to Him for a blessing, I will now imagine him welcoming me back into his presence with that type of joy.

Thanks, Geoff.