As I write this, I’m drinking a Lake Placid Ubu Ale. It’s an English strong ale “named for a legendary chocolate lab” (I’d give it a B+ by the way; you local Rochesterians can buy it at Wegmans). You probably remember the TV production company. “Sit, Ubu, sit. Good dog.”
Next to me lies a black lab. Actually, German Shepherd/Lab, but mostly German Shepherd. But still lab. Which brings me back to Ubu Ale, which is really good.
Which brings me back to the original point of this post, which was to write about how I can’t write about the stuff I was going to write.
Because the dog ate my blog. Not the legendary chocolate lab. The Lab/Shepherd mutt lying by my bed.
Earlier today, I was outside with Sophia (my daughter), Kaylynn (her friend), and Moses (the dog), reading Eugene Peterson’s fantastic book, Christ Plays in 10,000 Places. It’s a rich book, and every time I sit down to take in a few pages, I’m spurred on towards lots of really great thoughts I never would have had otherwise. I recently decided to start carrying my Moleskine journal around with me again, especially when I’m reading, because great thoughts stay with me for approxiately 11 seconds before I’m thinking about chicken wings or the Sabres’ disappointing season. Not that chicken wings aren’t a great thought. The Sabres’ season, however, is not a great thought. But chicken wings are.
And so is Eugene Peterson’s writing. So I jotted down some notes while I was reading, and even wrote out an entire paragraph which I planned to expand in a blog post this evening. Then I left the book and journal in the chair outside.
With the dog.
After dinner, Tricia discovered the disaster. My journal was eaten. Peterson’s book must not have tasted very good, because it was thankfully left in tact. Lord knows what would have happened had it been this Eugene Peterson book. (Do take the time to click that link, and notice also the quoted line just underneath the title.)
I tried tonight to re-write that paragraph from memory, but it came out all clunky and unclear. The dog is sleeping well on a full stomach of Moleskine journal, and I’m hoping that after eating my blogging plans, he’ll at least spend a full night’s rest without throwing them up.
{ 5 comments… read them below or add one }
Sit, Ubu, sit. Good dog. ARF!
Wasn’t that at the end of Family Ties?
At least it wasn’t a tablet computer he ate.
I second what revgeorge said. Let us also hope Moses doesn’t throw up on your laptop. Now there’s a sentence I never imagined! Imagine the bible that contained that imagery
BTW, is that a current picture of Moses? If so, my oh my, how dogs grow up so fast! The last picture I saw of him he was just a little lovable lump of fur in Tricia’s arms. Now he’d probably snap your spines if you tried to pick him up.
Peterson has done more than any other writer to shape my philosophy of ministry. I know what you mean about having to stop and digest. There is so much to ponder, and much of it I simply haven’t thought of before (or at least not from his perspective).
But that’s the way he wants us to minister: slowly, thoughtfully, patiently, reflectively. I’m about to eat his book on eating The Book.
He also put me on to Annie Dillard, especially Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. Wonderful stuff.
When I was laid up after a toe operation I read The Message New Testament from cover to cover. It spoke to me powerfully.
He’s a gift to the church.