I titled this post as such because I have a collection of tidbits to share.
First, our adoption. I have not written anything about our adoption in awhile. There are things going on with our adoption that I do not feel that I can share right now. However, I would very much like to request prayers in this regard especially this week and next week.
Secondly, our minister is teaching a four-week series titled “Sexual Revolution”. Bo is only 27 years old, but he is an incredibly gifted speaker. I missed the first week. But in this past Sunday’s lesson Bo spoke about how the world’s view of sex is very small. “It’s not a big deal. Do it whenever you want with whoever you want.” Then in the church there is generally very little said about sex and what is said is whispered. But sex is really BIG, and it is a gift from God to us. Bo said that we need a revolution to change the way we talk and think about sex. If you would like to download the first lesson to listen to, go here. Hopefully this past Sunday’s lesson will be up SOON. Just to tempt you to go listen, there is a full-size bed on the stage and this past Sunday Bo also brought a dog bed on stage to illustrate his point.
Next, yesterday was an absolutely gorgeous spring-like day here. So I spent the afternoon outside soaking up the sun and reading Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass for the first time. Some of it is hard for me to understand, but I really like this passage:
This is what you shall do: Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul, and your very flesh shall be a great poem and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body.
I do not know much about Mr. Whitman, but I think I would have liked him.