Gettin' preachy with it

Most of the time, I try to avoid gettin' preachy with it (na na na na na na na, na na na na na na na na, OW!(Sang to the tune of gettin jiggy with it, of course)) with my blog posts. But today, I'm going to make an exception.

After finishing the blood and guts stories of 1 and 2 Samuel and 1 and 2 Kings, I decided to back track and study the book of Ruth. I had read the story several times before. Before I started, I tried to recall what I could remember about the book. Here's what I came up with:
* Ruth is Naomi's daughter-in-law.
* Ruth's husband dies. His brother dies also.
* Naomi encourages Ruth to go back to her home land.
* Ruth refuses, saying "Where you go, I'll go. Where you stay, I'll stay."
* Ruth inspires Chris Tomlin's most recent single with her words.
* Ruth works in Naomi's kinsman's field, picking up the leftover harvest and things that other workers have dropped.
* Boaz fancies Ruth and ends up marrying her.

With that in mind and Chris Tomlin's song stuck in my head, I began reading. Several times in chapter 3 and 4 the phrase "Kinsman-redeemer" was used. I was perplexed because I had never heard of the term. So, I did what any good, well-educated Biblical scholar would do. I googled it.

The first site I came to had a list of qualifications for a Kinsman-redeemer in Biblical Israel.
1. He must be a kinsman.
2. He must be free himself.
3. He must be able to pay the price.
4. He must be willing to pay the price.

Naomi and Ruth needed a Kinsman-redeemer in order to keep their family name alive and to maintain the property that the owned. Boaz eventual became that Kinsman-redeemer and preserved their family name.

This is all good and well, but a very wise young woman told me once that every story in the Old Testament has something that points to Jesus; that he is present in every story of the Bible in some way. I looked at the above criteria and thought,

"Yes! That describes Jesus Christ. He is free. He is able to pay the price for us. AND, he's willing to pay the price. But, where does the Kinsman criteria fit?"

Then, it hit me. This summer I spent several weeks delving into Hebrews. in chapter two, it says,

"In bringing many sons and daughters to glory, it was fitting that God, for whom and through whom everything exists, should make the pioneer of their salvation perfect though what he suffered. Both the one who makes people holy and those who are made holy are of the same family. So Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers and sisters. ... Since the children have flesh and blood, he too shared in their humanity so that by his death he might break the power of him who holds the power of death, this is the devil..."

How remarkable is the thought of Jesus being my Kinsman-redeemer? He became man and shared in our suffering so that we could become of the same family. He purchased us willingly.

And if that isn't cool enough, I read another quote from a book today about Kinsman-redeemers. It says,

"The redeemer is the next of kin whose duty it is to vindicate a family member within the family. The responsibility of the redeemer extends to brothers, uncles, cousins, and any other blood relative. He was bound to avenge the murder of a kinsman. Blood revenge is intimately involved with kinship and genealogy."

When Satan convinced Eve to eat the apple and to share it with Adam, he, in essence, murdered humanity. Jesus avenged us. By his blood, we are intimately involved with him in Kinship.

Praise God for Jesus Christ, my Kinsman-redeemer.

My most mint mishaps

I feel like life would suck if you didn't know how to make fun of yourself. I long to be one of those people who continuously reflects on the oddities and embarrassing moments of my day and turn them into a comical anecdote.

For instance, last Friday I decided to spend my afternoon reading the Bible at Meads Corner. I ordered my hot drink, sat at my table, and proceeded to read. After a minute or two, I lifted my cup to sip the sweet, sweet life-giving java that it contained. While drinking, I felt a sensation on my leg akin to my phone vibrating in my pocket. I didn't think much of it. When I looked down to check my phone, I saw that the phantom vibration actually turned out to be my drink seeping through a poorly secured lid and cascading onto my bright white shorts. Oh, and it was burning the CRAP out of my inner thighs. Try explaining that one to the doctor giving you a physical.

I opted to play it cool. After the burning sensation stopped, I said to myself, "Ok. Just let the coffee dry and the stain will be less noticeable when I get up from my chair." I nonchalantly perused my Bible for another 20 minutes, letting the brown serum seep into the cloth. This whole time I thought, "AH! I should have invested in a Tide-to-go Pen!"

When it dried, I grabbed my sweater and used it to conceal the stain with all the finesse of a elementary school child trying to conceal the Sour Punch Straws that he slipped into his mom's shopping cart. Which, for those of you who have never seen "that kid," it looks way unnatural. And so, with my stained short fronts I strode proudly out of the room anxious to destain them.

See? I could have not told you that story and deprived you the privilege of laughing at my leg burns. So, here's another short anecdote.

This morning I decided to buy my class donuts for breakfast. I pulled out of the parking lot in my 2004 Mustang Convertible with the top down, enjoying the cool morning weather. As I was driving, I passed a car that emitted an awful stench. I dismissed it as normal air pollution and kept driving. A few seconds later though, when the car was long gone, I still smelled that terrible smell. I blamed the Wichita air and kept driving, thinking that the city officials really should do something about that odor. When I got to the donut shop, I parked my car and went to put the top up. In order to do so, the parking break must be engaged. I went to pull the parking break, and found it to be already up.

Yep. You read it right. I drove all the way to the donut shop with my parking break on. The friction made godawful odor similar to that of a dead, decaying animal. And to think, I blamed it on an old beat up jalopy and the Wichita maintenance team...

Smooth move, me.

Hope you got some laughs from those. What are some of your most mint mishaps?