Is Life Worth Living?
Sexist, maybe, but I don't see racist

People Who Can Do Things (a repeat)

Sunday Night Journal — July 11, 2010

When I discontinued the Sunday Night Journal for the year of 2009, someone suggested that instead of shutting it down I might simply post a link to an older installment every week. I didn't want to put even that much time into it, so I didn't do that, but as the year went on I was a bit sorry I hadn't taken the suggestion. But I'm doing it now. I've been very busy this weekend, and it's now late Sunday evening. Rather than try to slap together something hastily tonight, I'm linking to the journal for June 26, 2005. Something like it or some part of it will probably be incorporated into the memoir. Also, it's a good companion to this N.T. Wright book, Surprised By Hope, which I'll certainly be saying more about, and which I think is going to have a lot to say about what the resurrection of the body means: it is not, repeat not, some kind of spiritual existence in which the body won't matter anymore, but rather a new kind of physical being, something we really can only make guesses about from where we are now.


Feed You can follow this conversation by subscribing to the comment feed for this post.

The original post made me laugh--my husband and my father are both the same way. My husband can often be pretty good at thinking up solutions to mechanical problems; he just can't implement them. He once sawed a board held by his grandfather, who looked at the resultant cut and said, "Maybe it's a good thing you didn't become a surgeon."

When I was taking Anatomy and Physiology Lab, dissecting was a nightmare because of this sort of thing. We had to have one person who sliced ;-) and one who held the item being sliced still. I could never trust myself enough with a knife to let somebody else hold while I cut. On the other hand, I could never trust anybody else enough to cut while I held. Thank goodness, we had to have a third person who read the instructions. I'm really good at reading instructions.


I was reminded in conversation this past weekend of a sad incident from my youth: a really elaborate balsa-and-tissue model, one of those that's supposed to actually fly, that I spent weeks on.

Then came the big day: nyooownnnt (that's the sound effect of a short fast nosedive into the ground).

Still, the memory of building it is pleasant.

In fact, probably one of the reasons I picked this post was that the conversation mentioned above was with my brother-in-law who can build or fix ANYTHING. (not one of my wife's brothers, but her sister's husband--the humiliation is on all sides--my sister's husband is one of those, too...sigh)

A cheer for your husband, Anne-Marie.

Could you not nail the mice down, Janet?

No mice. Just a cat and bits and piece of other things. Nothing to nail them to except each other.


Verify your Comment

Previewing your Comment

This is only a preview. Your comment has not yet been posted.

Your comment could not be posted. Error type:
Your comment has been posted. Post another comment

The letters and numbers you entered did not match the image. Please try again.

As a final step before posting your comment, enter the letters and numbers you see in the image below. This prevents automated programs from posting comments.

Having trouble reading this image? View an alternate.


Post a comment

Your Information

(Name is required. Email address will not be displayed with the comment.)