Good and Upright is the Lord!

He expects us to imitate Him in excellence in the things that we do as well!

The finals of the Aussie was just such an example to me. Men scaling the walls of human impotence to grasp an unattainable moment of excellence in bodily acumen. Mind and body syncapating to continue through a fortnight of grueling heat and competition.

I love the mens' final and the male motivations that are shown in the finals. Like male lions, they use their roaring serves to intimidate and hope to find some hole of inability and emotional submission from the opponent so that they can pounce upon it. And pounce they do, just to find themselves the pounced upon here or there throughout the grueling 5 sets, should they find themselves that fortunate to have elongated the pleasure and the pain that long

In the first set, "The Fed" was all over it. He served up the ultimate indignity, by successfully dropshotting from a serve! This is a humiliation that must be repaid, in tennis terms. Cilic took the entire rest of the set to recoup from such a disrespectful expression. He found his "a" game about the second game of the second set and began to really serve, his better self. Time and again he hit corners that seemed impossible shots, only to find his retribution from his opponent to be seemingly effortless and reflexive.

He is not the "King of the Courts" because he accidentally hits this or that shot. He is not vaunting himself without reason. He says to his opponents, if you want this prize, you will have to earn it decisively. I will not give it to you. He uses the adversity of the other guys' winners to prod him to another level of play. This is a wonderful expression of how God expects us to jump and hold our heads upright in imitation of Him.

This world is not our home and these crowns are not our crown. But how much more is excellence required in the things that we are called to do.

Swiftly, after the conquest of the first set, these men fell from their lionlike vaunt into a snake squabble. It wasn't pretty for a good while, as the mighty men traded venomous strikes here and there on the line and threading invisible needles in the air. Their tremendous prowess in doing these things were clouded by the rapidity that they traded these amazing shots. Had there been a sword in their hands, the blood would have been flowing all over the place. The showmanship was amazing, but the swiftly traded shots were hard to follow. We should have a slowmotion camera playback on each one to truly appreciate the skill it took to make those shots. They made it look easy and that was the sad part of it. They are both amazing athletes and skillful swashbucklers and the second set made me wish for more of the lion that I saw in the first set.

You are being loved!

I am still working on a precious scarf for my dear Ethan. It is not perfect, by any means. It is the work of a month of knitting and purling and straightening on the needles. When my father said he wanted a silk scarf, I had no thought of knitting one. I never thought of knitting him a woolen one. He said he wanted to look like Humphrey Bogart with a 6 foot silk scarf hanging off his overcoat. I could identify with the thought of wanting to be a "proper gentleman" in every outward expression. I knew what he meant.

There is something humble and demeaning about wearing homemade clothes. But there is one thing that is for sure, there is a personal love and care that goes into a season of knitting for a loved one. There is a spiritual covering of prayer and intention that is unmatched. Sometimes, when I go into the thrift store and feel the stitches of an old discarded afgan, I feel that direct expression of love and that is what I am trying to imitate, when I knit for my loved ones. It is a palpable and direct expression of love that covers the body and gives a great worth to life. Somebody loves me enough to caringly craft this garment and prayed for me in every stitch.

I don't shop much! I don't feel comfortable in the stores. I was so moved to shop with my daughters the other day and in awe of some of the stitch patterns that come off of the looms of today's machines. I feel the cloths and try to find that sense of loving delight that I find in the thrift stores. I don't know that I feel anything, but the pleasure of perfect fabrics. I do love the feel of perfect fabrics also. But, I prefer the feeling of real love directed toward me. I wonder if the children of today feel covered. I wonder if they can reason from the gifts and things that their parents shower on them to the reality of the love that they are experiencing.