Persian Star

Chesnok Red

German White

The methodology was as follows:

We were going to test the flavors of the three garlics in three settings -- rubbed raw on toast, roasted and spread on bread, and raw in a simple bruschetta treatment. Each type was handled with uncontaminated utensils, and they were eaten in a random, blind test.

The Persian Star had a small head with about a dozen teensy cloves. The skins of the cloves were a lovely purply red, but they were a total pain in the ass to handle. I don't have a lot of patience with wee garlic cloves.

The Chesnok Red was basically exactly like the Persian Star. Again with the wee tiny cloves. Again with the eye-rolling and me grumbling, "This better not taste that good."

The German White, though, was much more my speed: big cloves (but not very many of them in the head), easy to peel, basically a dream to handle.

The processing was fairly simple for this test. I toasted some slices of bread with a little olive oil for the raw-rubbed test, nestled a few cloves of each in some tin foil and drizzled them with olive oil before roasting for the roasted-and-smeared test, and stirred together some finely diced Black Plum tomatoes (from our garden), the finely minced garlic, a pinch of chiffonaded fresh basil (from our garden), and a healthy drizzle of olive oil for the bruschetta test.

Then we hunkered down for some serious bread consumption.

For the raw-garlic-rubbed-on-olive-oiled-toasts test, we ended up liking the three almost equally. We started with the German White, and felt it had "a mild, not very forward flavor" and was "complimentary", "a team player". The Persian Star was "more garlicky", "sharper and sweeter", had "a flavor that lingers", but was "more raw-tasting" and was "asking for something else" to go with it. The Chesnok Red was our winner, by a nose, for being "a garlic-lover's garlic" and "very strong". In a very close vote, we decided the German White was the second best, and the Persian Star brought up the rear.

The roasted-and-smeared-on-bread test was next, and the Persian Star led things off by having a flavor "where 'sweet' and 'rich' meet"; we struggled to verbalize exactly what the flavor reminded us of, ultimately agreeing it tasted like the texture of tomato paste. It had no sharp garlic aftertaste. The Chesnok Red was up next and was "a total loser". It tasted "like if garlic and tap water were combined". Third was the German White, "delicious", "light and airy", "gardeny", "full but not heavy -- tastes like spring green", and was fresh-tasting even when roasted. The clear winner was the German White, with the Persian Star a modest second and the Chesnok Red a crushing disappointment.

The bruschetta test was led off by the Chesnok Red, which saw a strong rebound from its failures as a roaster. It "tied the flavors together nicely", "never tasted like raw garlic", and was "a good team player'. The Persian Star was next and was "not as peppery as [the Chesnok], more buttery" but also "almost overpowers the tomato flavor". The German White was the last up, and had a "warm finish" with "no sharpness", "plays beautifully with the basil" and got the rave "all four flavors [in the tomato mixture] work together the best". We voted the Chesnok Red our favorite in this round, narrowly edging out the German White, with the Persian Star coming up short.

Overall, even though the Chesnok Red won two of the three tests, we liked the German White best overall. The failure of the Chesnok to roast well was a damaging blow to its overall standings. The Persian Star, while delicious in its own right, wasn't a winner in any category and had teensy cloves that are impossible to peel. So there you have it: German Star it is. In fact, we just placed our order with Seeds of Change for oodles of it for next year.

Thus, I proceeded to apply for a Westpac Mastercard debit card the other day. It's done online. But I was surprised when I saw that one of the conditions for eligibility was that I must be a permanent resident. Despite that, I ploughed along with the application and submitted it. But as I feared, they've turned it down indeed. The tight arseholes... I can't understand why they would refuse me a debit card just because I'm not a permanent resident. The money spent on the card will be coming directly from my account anyway. If I ain't got no money with them, I can't use the card. In any case, they don't lose anything...

Except that they'll lose me at least as a "valued" customer now. As opposed to Westpac, ANZ doesn't have this stupid restriction. In less than 10mins spent online, my application for a debit card account with them was approved, and I got my Visa card today, 3 days after applying! Now, I can't wait to switch over to ANZ and slam the door at Westpac. I can now understand why some people would instantly show a sign of disgust when hearing that I bank with Westpac!

In brief, to any non-residents coming to Australia, avoid Westpac.

No depth of pain
No expression of love
No worldy gain
Can ever compare with the greatness of knowing Him

His compassions fail not
He is faithful and true
He gives what is not deserved
He gives His very self to you

Come what may
Mountains or valleys
Storms or still
He's unchanging; our best is His will

Nothing else matters
When young and when old
That through trial or triumph
It remains well with my soul

We moved to Manitowoc the summer between 4th and 5th grades, and my mom found both me and my brother a new piano teacher. I didn't love her, and my interest in practicing piano suffered for it. She was the kind who was always nagging you to curve your hands a certain way, and poking her bony finger in your back to get you to sit up straighter. I took lessons from her for a little over 2 years, and practiced less and less until I quit, both the practicing and then the lessons shortly thereafter.

I started public school for the first time the year we moved, and they offered 5th-graders the opportunity to play orchestra instruments. (Band wasn't offered until 6th grade.) So I signed up to play the violin on top of the piano lessons, my mom rented me a violin, and it became my new love. Colleen McMahon was my teacher, and I loved her, too. I worked hard to impress her, and I started off strong, practicing every day.

But though I played in school orchestras until I graduated, in time, my devotion to practice became spotty at best, and it always was on the violin, because if you're not playing the first violin part, it's pretty boring to play alone. Unless you're playing concertos, you really need the whole orchestra to bring the music to life. A lone violin part is like being just the flour in some really tasty cookies: necessary, but dry and dull all by itself. You spend a lot of time counting and playing repetitive rhythm bits until you finally fall asleep and crash head-first into your music stand, risking life, limb, and a bow up the nose. However, sometimes I'd be willing to practice without my mother having to holler at me to do it, and up to my room I'd go to do my cat-torturing impression, which (generally) became more sad and shrill in direct proportion to how much nagging my mother had to do to get me to practice and how much I didn't want to practice at that particular moment

My bedroom in our place on Michigan Avenue was in back of the house, and it came equipped with a balcony that overlooked the back yard, garage, and alley, which I loved. On nice days, I would put my music stand out on my balcony, drag a chair out there, and bring my violin outside to serenade the neighborhood for half an hour in the breezy, careless manner that only a 12-year-old not yet stricken with the extreme self-consciousness of adolescence can manage. It never occurred to me that the neighborhood would not enjoy the dulcet strains of me scratching away on my fiddle. It never occurred to me to think of the neighborhood at all. I was 12, after all.

I was put in mind of those carefree, caterwauling days recently when I unexpectedly discovered that the boy across the street had come into possession of a drum kit. Did I discover this information because I saw him and his dad carrying the drums into their house?

Oh no.

Let me just say that it is monsoon season here in the Old Pueblo, which means that everyone who has an air conditioner (in addition to a swamp cooler) has it cranked, and all the doors and windows are shut tight, because only the Rockefellers are able to afford A/C AND gasoline this summer. But nonetheless, I know that the neighbor kid has a new drum kit, because I can hear it.

In my house.

My house with all the doors and windows shut tight.

My house across the street from the kid's house, which also has all the doors and windows shut tight.

Sadly, the boy is a diligent practicer, and I hear drums from across the street from the time I get home from work at night until bedtime, and even more on weekends. Frequently, his long-haired buddies from the neighborhood come over and contribute the cacophony.

On the one hand, I think kids having the opportunity to play music is one of the best things we can give them, and for all my mother's struggles to get me to practice, I am grateful every day that my folks invested in musical education for me. I've gotten more out of it than I can ever quantify. And though it took 25 years, I've become a diligent practicer of the guitar, even if I never was on piano or violin.

And in truth, it's better than the situation we had in our first apartment here in Tucson. There, our bedroom shared a wall with the neighbor's living room. And the neighbor had a budding clarinetist in residence who was fond of practicing in the living room before noon on Saturdays. Lemme tell ya, there are few things more startling (and homicidal rage-inducing) than to be awakened from deep slumber by the squeaking and squawking emitted by a novice's clarinet at 8 a.m. on a Saturday morning.

The only way it could be worse is if it were an oboe. Which may be what one of the neighbor children to the east plays, but whoever it is tends to play only at night, and we don't have to share a wall. Thank heavens.

But regardless of this somewhat tarnished silver lining, the fact of the matter is that I get to listen to the kid across the street put in serious time on drums, and I can only consider myself lucky in that it isn't MY kid and my house he's playing in, even though it sounds very nearly like he is.

I think back to that young girl who played her violin for the neighborhood. And I think about the old girl who plays her guitar in the back yard now from time to time, and I think "Damn, karma's a bitch." And then I think, "I'd better plug in and crank this amp to 11."

Eine zu starke Fokusierung auf Vergangenheits- oder Gegenwartswerte führt nämlich zu zu stark vergangeheitsbezogenen Entscheidungen...

...obwohl wir an dem System in den relvanten Teilen nichts geändert haben, haben heute morgen einige der Nintex Workflow nicht mehr funktioniert. Nach dem ich mir die Workflows im Detail angeschaut habe und alle Einzelheiten geprüft habe, aber keinen Fehler gefunden habe, habe ich sie einfach noch ein mal neu publiziert. Und siehe da, es funktioniert...

Das scheint eine dieser SharePoint Besonderheiten zu sein...

I have to stop doing this to myself. I am abusing my body in more ways than I thought and losing my apartment isn't what I had planned, but this month I am coming close. I have to pull my hours at both jobs and if the grocery store can't give me enough hours, I'll need to pick up a 3rd job back at McDonald's again. Thank goodness minimum wage is going up, which will help with my grocery store check.

I can't afford to go to the doctor on Friday for my RSD. I just don't have the extra money. I have no clue how or if I'll be able to pay the ER bill from Sunday night either. I will have to charge my dentist bill week after next for my cleaning. I just don't have the money coming in. I know if I cut my food budget back, that will help, and I should be slapping myself in the face and on my fat tummy for how all of my binging this month has almost made me see a negative amount in my checking account. I have binged before, but never this bad. I can't believe stuffing my face has done this to me. Now I am fat and scraping the pennies.

Bottom line is that I will make it through. I will be getting some hours this week at the grocery store, at least 6, which I am picking up tomorrow. I will do my best to pull 40 at Relay and if I can't physically work them, I'll PTO them. I can do this for a week or two to help suppliment my paycheck. Once Texas Tech is back for the fall session, my hours are supposed to pick up at the grocery store... so I'll be bringing in more then. Right now, it just sucks - right now, I am just finding the bottom of what I am made of financially and in other ways.

Binging makes me feel worthless, out of control, and terrible. I have all of these clothes I can't wear, my bank account won't let me get new clothes, and I am physically uncomfortable in my own skin. I feel degraded and empty, despite having a full tummy. My stomach is full of nothingness, yes nothingness, because food is a temporary filling for something else. My skin physically feels tight pulled over the fat I have not had on my body in years. I sweat a lot, I am tired all the time, I can't sleep, and nothing makes me feel whole. Binging does nothing to make me feel better, not even in the here and now because binging makes me feel sick. I eat until I can't eat anymore, then I go to sleep or do something that doesn't cost my body any energy. Binging makes me feel sorry for myself, low, ugly, masculine, unattractive, and invisible. Binging has simply replaced self-injury in my life. Binging fills a pit I have in my soul that food can't fill because food doesn't fit.

I have to work tomorrow and can't go to Celebrate Recovery. This was another miscalculation, but I'll make it through. Maybe I'll have Sunday off this week. I really like the small group of Celebrate Recovery at the other church in town. The ladies are friendly there and encouraging there. I miss going to Celebrate Recovery alltogether. Celebrate Recovery has been as much a thorn in my side as it has been a light I have followed to keep me from falling off the narrow path around the mountain I am ascending, climbing toward God.

I'm feeling confused, overwhelmed, and scared. I'm having trouble grasping any sense of control over my life. Every aspect is spiraling in a different direction. I can't pretend anymore that I am okay. I know my threads are bare, people are starting to look straight through me, and I am not sure what they will see...

“Range” as I defined it was how far I hit the ball making good contact with somewhat decent form – not swinging like the Incredible Hulk or counting the several horrible shots that didn’t really go anywhere. All the while I tried to stay focused on controlling my backswing and keeping my left arm straight. I started through my irons and used about half a bucket each on my pitching and sand wedges, aiming for the flag on the driving range 106 yards out. I used my iPhone to make a note of what I was seeing...

SW -- 75 yards
PW -- 105 yards

I picked up the pace on my second bucket and made it through my 8- and 9-irons and 7-hybrid. The results were more frustrating than satisfying because I can’t seem to get close to any kind of consistency as far as where the ball goes. I found that when I relaxed and stopped gripping the club so hard, my shots often improved. I took some more notes….

9-Iron -- 110 yards
8-Iron -- 105 yards
7-Hybrid -- 120 yards

At this point, my body was starting to feel a little tired and my hands were a little sore. But I still wanted to get through the rest of my clubs, so I took a quick break to buy two more large buckets of balls. When I started into the fourth bucket of balls with my 5-wood, I began to question how much progress I was really making – I couldn’t seem to hit the ball any farther with my 5 than with my 7…

6-Hybrid 145
7-Wood 150-155
5-Wood 150-155

By now I had developed a large blister on the pad of my right thumb and it was making squishing noises with each swing. But I was so close to finishing… stubbornness prevailed and I asked the nice guys at the pro shop for some Band-Aids so I could get through my 3-wood and driver.

Looking back, the sun must have gotten to me – I have no idea why this seemed like a good idea. I flailed my way through have a bucket with the 3-wood and the situation degenerated beyond repair. I was hitting all grounders, trying not to touch any of my blisters, now numbering three. If you’ve seen the episode of The Office when Andy flayed his hands raw practicing for a round with a big customer, you’re starting to get the picture. (See the whole episode here – it’s really funny. http://www.hulu.com/watch/19502/the-office-job-fair)

A couple guys had started hitting balls next to me in the last five minutes or so. I gave them the remainder of the balls and was about to stagger home to nurse my wounds, but I hear a “Wait. Can offer you just one tip, just one?” I know the guy was trying to be nice, but I was already well aware that those last few swings were horrendous and not much he could have said would have made a difference. “You need to keep your wrists straight – that’s why you have blisters.” I just said thanks and trudged towards home… the wrists and the blisters were both products of the rookie mistake of staying way past any window of productivity. Lesson learned – golf takes patience and the investment of practice over time. Hopefully these blisters won’t take long to heal.

Not even if you're Danial Craig, or Pierce Brosnan.

I can't resist putting in Pierce Brosnan with it. It's not because both of them were/are Bond. It's just that, I remember my class teacher saying "kalau you all Pierce Brosnan, tak pe jugak tak nak butangkan baju." (If you people are Pierce Brosnan, it wouldn't be so bad if you do not want to button up your shirts). She taught me history, and the only think I can remember of her is that she likes Pierce Brosnan's chest. Hahaha.

Oh no. I do not enjoy seeing men, regardless how buff, with too little clothes, i.e. shirtless.

Or even with their shirts unbuttoned.

Okay I don't like people buttoning their buttons up to the neck if they're not wearing ties, but really... two max for the amount of buttons you don't use.

Especially guys with no chest hair.

Have you seen the August issue of seventeen? the supposedly "summer hunk"?

He looks like a pondan to me. Not to say that he is, but he does look the part. He is perfectly fine in the pictures with the T-shirts... but the unbuttoned shirt... Oh puh-leeze!!!

I have nothing against gays or effeminate men, but I have A LOT against pondans. Yes, there's a difference. Pondan has a bad connotation to it. They're what people think gay men are; always thinking about sex.

They are the reasons why it would be hard for gay men to come out of their closets in Malaysia, in my opinion.

I also have something against guys wearing sleeveless tops, even when they're playing sports. I just cannot stand it.

Men should hide as much of their skin as possible.

Seriously.

On a random note; I didn't know Ireland was not part of the Commonwealth. Oh sheeeeeetttt.

Ah well. Too bad then. I can't know everything, can I?

Still, I know that King Henry VIII was the first King of Ireland. My mom didn't know that.

Hahahahahahahahaha.

However, I wouldn't have known if I wasn't nutty enough to want to apply to the Irish bar.

I emailed them, "isn't it ironic that the only Inns in Republic of Ireland is named King's Inns?"

I can't believe I wrote that to their email, along with my question if they would be able to accept my degree. Good thing they found it quite amusing, so I received a super long email regarding the Irish history. Or at least, a very long winded reason why the Inns is called the King's Inns which included a lot of Irish history, which to be honest, I cannot remember anymore.

Good thing I decided against taking the Irish bar, or even practicing.

Imagine meeting the dude who responded my email.

Embarrassing gila.

I suddenly remember the crap I told my personal tutor about my trip to Dublin. Rather ridiculous, to tell your personal tutor. Nani Nani... Living with an academic doesn't teach you how busy they are, huh?

For some reason, I miss my personal tutor. Silly, considering I can go 4 months in England without even thinking of dropping by at his room for anything for fear of wasting his time.

Admittedly, I don't have Shan's enviable relationship with her personal tutor. Really amazing, hers. Still, I always feel better after I talk to mine.

I felt so grown up when he bestowed me this smile after I said I realize the reason why he failed my Health Care paper; he wanted to do his best as an examiner. And being nice to me as a personal tutor, that is the best he could be as a personal tutor.

I can't ask for a better one. And I would forever appreciate him.

Ahhhh... Strike that out!! But I don't feel like it... So sweet. I'll just continue with my story.

I'm jet lagged. Or so I claim. I'm nocturnal anyway, so my sleeping British time in Malaysia is my no longer being jet lagged, I think. Still, I wake up at 4pm. Maybe I am still jet lagged. I don't wake up that late.

Still, I wake up at 4, and I see... Oh man... It's too late to have a hair cut.

That's what I've been thinking on Monday and Tuesday.

Went to the Mamak's for dinner (I know, a bit nutty, but I hate going there for breakfast. More people means more ciggies being lit) and passed by the saloon.

It was almost 8 and there was still people there!!

Well, just the stylists, closing down. Still, if they're closing down at about that time... They must have only stopped serving customers recently, right?

So today, even though I still woke up at 4, I said, to hell with it!! Even if they're closed, I'll go to McD's to get Big Mac (I ended up getting Chicken McDeluxe instead. Haha). They were not!! Also, I forgot that in Malaysia, if they say they're closed at 7, even if you entered at 6.55, they wouldn't chase you away like the ang moh's would. How silly of me.

Ahhh... It was nice, being pampered. They chose the hairstyle for me, which I think is like the one Vic has now. Good thing I didn't cut my hair for graduation then; we might be mistaken as twins!! With the light blue shirt and same hair... Hahahaha.

I like it. Even though it is rather short, I like it. Ahhh... My head feels so light after having such long hair for so long. Though admittedly, I had much longer hair when I was younger. The great thing is that I didn't have to take care of it myself. Hehe.

It was just a cut, in the end. Well, a lot of treatment, but I didn't streak or whatever my hair. It's nice to finally have my natural hair color again. Haven't had it since I was 14; when I started form3 and had an idiotic discipline teacher who thinks my natural hair color is dyed. Stupid bugger. So I had to color it pitch black to appease her. Sigh.

Still, I'll dye my hair again come September. Hahaha. After my cousin's wedding. Hehehehe. I don't feel I should make my grandmother upset. I miss her dearly.

I want to balik kampung (go back to my mom's hometown). I want to be a simple village folk. Haha. Like a lot of people say, as if I could ever be one. Still, I yearn to be one. Could I just go back and just... Take care of my grandma?

She definitely needs taking care of. Her skin!!!! So dry and it troubles her so much when it itches. So I got her body butter from Body Shop. Haha. My grandma will be a high class kampung (village) folk, who uses Body Shop body butter. Hehe. Alright I got some from Superdrug as well. It's the same texture!! The only reason I got the Body Shop ones as well was because they were having that 50% off. How I wish all the body butter was 50% off... Then I'll get the clementine one. I like!!

Sigh. Nani rindu Tok...

I look forward to my cousin's wedding. It would be a typical kampung one, where everyone would come and help. Everything would be from nature; hardly anything the type where you get from the shops. No such thing as instant coconut milk for us. Everything would be made from scratch so that they'll be yummier. Everyone would slave before the kenduri (feast) starts, with the ladies already in the outfit that they plan to come in since morning. Do remember this takes place in the village. Not that the ladies care; they would be in the kitchen while the younger males come to the kitchen to pick up the food to be served to the males seated in front of the house.

Oh yes, my kampung is an authentic one. The people there are still very traditional. The women would enter by the back door while their husbands go through the front, to be greeted by my uncle, the host. And the female guests would help the host transfer the food onto the plates, which would be sent to the front of the house. This is usually only done once they've had their share of the feast, as the hostess would definitely insist every guest that enters the door to eat first, then help.

Some might even stay back to help wash dishes.

Amazing eh?

I still remember another cousin's wedding... The water supply was cut the morning of his wedding. Good thing we washed the dishes that will be used to serve the food from the night before. The water didn't come back for quite some time. The villagers helped bring river water up to our place. Awesomeness, eh?

You should realize by now that I always end up talking about something totally different than the one I started with.

I got new shoes yesterday. They were expensive. I was DYING to try them out on the treadmill so I did a Podrunner Podcast for 30 minutes. THEN attempted an upper body workout. The keyword is ATTEMPTED.

YES I did do some upper body work. It was not according to the book though.

Chest Press, 3 sets of 15 reps with increasing weight on each set. Same for Chest Flyes, Same for seated shoulder press, and side raises. Same for triceps Kickbacks and triceps dips. Same for biceps curls and hammer curls. So. I DID get an upper body workout in. it just wasn't exactly the one I had planned.

The shoes are the BOMB. I'm so glad I bought them. They made a HUGE difference in my running today. I can see myself getting a lot of mileage out of them.

I'm feeling a little zonked today. I think it may be because I'm doing cardio 6 days a week on top of my Body For Life weight training. I may back off to just the prescribed 3 days a week if the tiredness doesn't pass soon.

That's all for today. I think I'm due for a nap.

1. Problems were caused by a succession of temporary secretaries being involved in the organisation of the conference. One individual needs to be involved throughout the whole process.
2. One speaker had serious problems with his presentation because it was transferred from a Mac to a Windows PC. The presenters need a more detailed list of instructions on how their presentations should be prepared including testing it on various machines.
3. We need to be able to deal with credit card payments before the next conference.
4. The final copy of the printed programme needs better checking to avoid the mistakes made in this one.
5. The Geological Society venue charging is complex and has obsure charges such as opening before 9.30pm. Check the current prices to make sure you don't incure additional costs.
6. Try harder for sponsorship.

Das ist das Ergebnis:

WASHINGTON, July 22, 2008 - Today's military is stronger and has more credibility among the American people in large part due to a presidential decision 60 years ago to integrate the force, the defense undersecretary for personnel and readiness said.

David S.C. Chu credits President Harry S. Truman's 1948 executive order that integrated the military with laying crucial groundwork for success of the all-volunteer force.

Black soldiers had fought in every U.S. war, including the Revolutionary War, the War of 1812, the Civil War, the Spanish-American War and World Wars I and II, Chu noted during an interview with American Forces Press Service and the Pentagon Channel. But in most cases, he noted, they served in all-black units with white commanders.

Truman's Executive Order 9981 changed that officially, but, Chu conceded, it didn't take root overnight. Segregated units had to be reconfigured. Tensions had to be overcome.

"It took the better part of a generation and a half to ... really take it from an order from the president to a reality that meant that your race didn't matter," Chu said. But ultimately, Truman's executive order "provided the foundation for the U.S. military to become one of the United States' most racially integrated institutions," he added.

"What Truman really did was use the armed forces to change American society," Chu said. "The armed forces pride themselves in being leaders in this."

As the military became a national model in integration, its members put the concept to its first combat test during the Korean War, then in every subsequent conflict leading up to today's war on terror.

The integrated force provides equal opportunity, but also brings strengths that are particularly important in an all-volunteer force, Chu said.

"You've got a broader selection of talent if you recruit everybody or potentially have everyone wanting to join ... your organization," he said. "You have more talent than you would otherwise have."

Today, black servicemembers make up 17 percent of the active-duty force, 9 percent of active-duty officers and just under 6 percent of general and flag officers, officials reported. In addition, black troops make up more than one-quarter of the top three enlisted ranks.

In addition to providing a broad talent base, diversity ensures that the military looks like the American population it defends, Chu said. That, in turn, helps build public confidence and trust in the institution.

"If the whole society is not part of [the military], then you don't have the backing of that whole society," Chu said. "You have a backing of a fraction of that society."

The flip side, he said, is that the public recognizes its diverse military has a difficult job and unifies behind it. "That moral authority is crucially important to the military's ability to operate," he said.

Chu pointed to broad American support for its highly diverse military, as demonstrated in polls in which the public repeatedly ranks the military as its most trusted institution.

As the military looks to the future, it needs to remember the lessons learned as it integrated the force and continue to embrace diversity, Chu said.

"I think it is important to remember this history to be ready to deal with the new elements of diversity coming forward," he said.

Original artical at: DefenseLink News

So get the picture here.  You're all excited about your vacation, you are only 37 miles from your destination, driving down the interstate at 70mph (okay, maybe 75), and all of a sudden your car decides to just cut off.  Grr. In the middle lane of a three lane highway.  Ouch.  What follows is not exactly what happened, but I want you to imagine what my conversation with God about this may have sounded like.

Uhh, Lord.  My car just quit running. 

Yes Dennis, I am aware of that.

Well, I could use a little help here God.  I mean, surely you do not want us to have this kind of problem, right?

Exactly what is your problem right now Dennis?

Uhh, my car is not running.

I am aware of that, but why is this such a problem?

I don't think I understand Lord.  This does not look like a problem to you?  I mean, I am sitting on the side of the interstate, it is like 95 degrees outside, we have no AC, our friends have had to pull off the road behind us, and we are going to be late getting to our wonderful condo!  Not to mention the fact that I wanted to at least get a chance to hit a bucket of balls at the driving range this evening before dark!

Well, it seems as though the plan you made is not exactly following the path you laid, is it?  What does this say to you about plans YOU make Dennis?

I guess they are subject to change based upon what you want Lord.  Is this one of those lesson times again?  Is this one of those events you intend to use to grant me wisdom?  I ask only because I have been known to miss your instruction at times.

So are you telling me Dennis that you only listen for my voice SOME of the time?

Uhh, well, you know how it is Lord, I ...., I...., well - I guess so.  I'm sorry Lord.  I just get so busy doing what I think I should do.  So I guess you were trying to get my attention then?

I always want your attention Dennis.  I have so many things to teach you, if you will just be still and listen.  It really does not take that much action on your part. As a matter of fact, the less busy you are in your life, the more you will stay in the moment, which is where I am.  So let me ask you some important questions.

Well Lord, I am sitting on the side of the road, with no way to go anywhere, so you have my attention for sure.

Okay.  Do you want to hear from me?  Do you want to move through life with me as your guide?  Do you believe I can guide you every moment?  Do you understand that I do have a plan for what is best for you?  Are you willing to keep your ear tuned to my voice at all times?

Wow.  That's a lot of questions!  Of course the answer in my heart is YES to all those questions, but in my day to day life it is so easy to step away from you Lord.  I don't mean to, but it just happens.  How do I stop it?

Don't overcomplicate it Dennis.  Just make sure you take time during the day to be still.

Oh -- you mean like my car is right now?

You got it.  I may occasionally stop you myself.  I use fatigue, spoiled plans, other people, illness, and yes even death at times to speak to you.  Just make that your first response to all events is to be still a moment and listen, and I will instruct you.

Okay Lord.  So can I start my car now?

Sure Dennis, go ahead.

So them my car started.  Amazing.  And it ran for 25 more miles.  Then it stopped again, 3 more times before we got to our destination, but each time I only had to let it rest a few minutes.  I guess God felt we needed to test out what I learned right away.  Each time I stopped that day, I listened attentively, and I heard his voice.  Some of it had nothing to do with my car, I thought about my blessings, how I take things (like running cars) for granted, etc.  My wife and I took the time to chat a bit (always a good thing), and it really did not bother me much at all to be on the side of the road.  Strange...

Is your life a bit like this?  Does God have to stop you occasionally to get your attention?  Do you intentionally look for times to talk with Him outside of a moment of need?  I know I am guilty of that, but am determined to stop more often, just to have a chat. 

Oh, and by the way, my car breaking down was a mere inconvenience, not a problem.  I need to see more things that way, instead of getting upset anytime one of my plans go awry.

Tell me about your conversations with God outside of pleading prayer.  Do you have enough of them?  I hope so .....