Accounting in Afghanistan

I don't know if anybody saw this, but for a while my profile said that I live in Afghanistan and my industry is Accounting. I don't even know how to spell Afghanistan. I guess if you don't specify these things your profile gives you the first industry and country in the alphabet. Well.

I've discovered this new Wednesday night TV show (LOST doesn't start up again till February :P) called Pushing Daisies. Strange little funny British show, people randomly dropping dead. But I really like it, we'll see where it goes from here.

Scary US history midterm is over, scary writing assignment is over (just in time to start the next one!). Trying to decide whether to do a scary taekwondo tournament which would probably be good for me, but would do nothing for my peace of mind.

I was thinking today about all the passages in the Bible that talk about sharing in the sufferings of Christ, and how, when I'm feeling anxious and fearful about what He might be asking me to bear next, I'm actually rebelling against a crucified God. Deep down I realize that I wish Jesus had torn the nails out of his hands, come down from the cross, called up a legion of angels, because then being united to him would mean being united to triumph without pain. Instead I'm united to a God who had to suffer for glory.
But then I think of the thief on the cross, a man who very literally shared in Christ's sufferings. In the midst of the pain and shame of his own crucifixion he recognized that Jesus' suffering was greater than his. He realized that Jesus was an innocent man, that Jesus was choosing every moment to not call down angels, to stay and die beside sinners. Instead of causing him to despair, this knowledge gave the thief the confidence to ask a really presumptuous question. Something in watching Jesus die, in dying with Jesus, gave him hope of eternal life.
I wonder if the thief knew about resurrection. I wonder if when he asked Jesus to remember him he still expected to have to go to hell for a time, to moulder in prison for a while like Joseph did, waiting for the cupbearer to remember his promise. I wonder what Jesus' face looked like when he answered the man's question, I wonder if he had to yell so his voice would be heard and the people standing below caught his words and scoffed like I would have been tempted to.
"I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise."
Verily verily.
I wonder if anyone laughed bitterly. I wonder if the thief himself laughed, in joyous disbelief. He probably heard Jesus die beside him. Maybe fear took him near the end, maybe Jesus' words filled his head as death filled his body. What did his heart cry when they broke his legs?
Verily verily.
I wonder if he even remembers being crucified now.
And I know that this has to frighten away my fear, has to make me laugh in joyous disbelief.

Weighty stuff.