I read the paper in print or online every day without fail, and I simply can't keep up. News bombards me faster than I can sort its pieces, and either make mental storage space for each tidbit, or toss it out.

U.S. record arms deal with Saudis advances. Keep it. Texans embarrass the Colts. Keep it...finally. Imam says resolution to NYC mosque debate in the works. Keep watching, anyway. Trial opens in rape of 4 year old who died. Keep it. Shudder. And remember.

But the cognitive throw-away pile dwarfs the keepers--and much of it regards so-called "reality": an annoucement of the handful of new "stars" who will dance off the stage one week at a time this fall. A que of singing "idols" (how apt!) who will apparently keep singing until some of us quit watching. Chefs, stylists, decorators, models and clothes designers (don't even get me started on the bachelors!) are dueling to be the last something-or-other standing, Jennifer Aniston and John Mayer may be back together, and Martha Stewart's show premiers today on the Hallmark Channel.

I'm not even watching this stuff--I'm reading about it in the morning paper and can't toss it out fast enough! As I read what passes for news, I'm struck at the blurring of lines between what is real and what is not. At how little fight we've put up against the invasion of un-reality. This stuff is not real life. And as we blindly consume it, I'm afraid we forget what is.

Real life is a song and sigh, and sickness and struggle. It's a day well spent, a job well done, a friend well loved. Real life is a kiss and a kind word--and on a good day, it's both. It is memory tested and muscle taxed. Real life is the patient mom who lets a toddler try to put on his own shoes, or comb his own hair. It's the widow who passes each "anniversary" day of the first birthday or holiday or Sunday dinner or car registration renewal without her spouse. Real life is old scars and fresh scabs and whispered prayers; a clear, long-held note on an old  violin and the crack of a well-hit ball on the sweet spot of a bat. Does that sound too simple to be true?

Reality isn't what's manufactured, broadcast and then regurgitated as news. Reality is simply what happens to us along the way. You way. My way. His way. Eugene Peterson writes "So many who understand themselves to be followers of Jesus, without hesitation and apparently without thinking, embrace the ways and means of the culture as they go about their daily living 'in Jesus' name.'" But that's not where our reality lies. The real news of the day is the news you and I are making as we follow and find Him in the moments that will never make the news. Because He is the real way...the real truth...and the real life. No matter what the papers say.