Irony

I write about the smut peddlers of Las Vegas, and the first comment I get to the post is from a website selling lingerie. I was told I had an impressive site. I'm sure the person viewed it to make that remark.

Actually what I think is that like the smut peddlers, they didn't know who I was, I didn't know who they were, neither of us cared, and they were just trying to make a buck from anyone who would bite.

Sorry. Not hungry.

Viva Las Vegas

We went to Las Vegas last week. I think the last time I was there was when I was a little boy and my dad drove us through the city and had us look at the "wages of sin". He warned my brother and I that the Devil was alive and working overtime in this city.

What I took away from the city this time is that it is all make believe. My daughter who didn't go with us, thought it was unfair that I got to see the Eiffel tower. I had to tell her that I didn't, that it was just a model. Moving through the casinos was an awe inspiring experience, and I had to continue to tell myself that we were in Vegas. No matter how elegant the entrances were when you got to the heart of the building there were the ubiquitous slot machines with the lonely souls communing with them, praying for a gift. It was a sobering reminder of why they were there.

Out on the strip, bored looking immigrants snapped smut our way. Men and women in florescent t-shirts promoted strippers, waving cards with seductive women on the front promising satisfaction, attempting to shove it in our hands. Our shoes trampled hundreds of discarded photos, making it a sobering reminder that these women are devalued in so many ways. I had to remind myself that we were in Vegas and that it was make-believe.

Hello

Ramblings of a curious mind are what I am looking at doing. The older I get, the less life and human behavior make sense. In fact the more simplistic things appear. For example, I don't look at politics with any kind of passion any more. I look at the political scene as an arena of pure naked power. The place to exercise one's will over others. I will seek to record my observations of the world as I see it.

We are looking at new churches as we just moved to a new location. In our search we found one that appears to have a lot going for it. At a youth group meeting the other night I listened to stories about angelic visitations and grew tired.

I grew up a pastor's kid. We were fed on the miraculous and the mysterious. In fact it had a better ring of truth if it had those elements. I believe that God is a God of miracles, but I don't know why it is so hard to hear His voice in the ordinary. Is that not good enough? Matthew 12:39 says that "only a faithless generation would ask for a sign." I grew troubled about the proclaimation of visions. No, I guess not troubled. I guess I would have to say I grew tired.

I don't look for faith to be confirmed from the weird or out of the ordinary. I look for faith to be confirmed by what I read that God has promised. I look to be confirmed by experience and the love I feel from my God. I guess that's the only "sign" I need.