But It's Still Funny...

I know what you're thinking. This is someone's grandma. This lady bakes cookies and pancakes for her grandchildren. She prolly has a pocketbook too. That's what my grandma used to say. "Go get my poketbook." And then she would give me fifty cents. Cause back in those days, fifty cents could get you a soda pop. Those good ol' days.

Anyway, like I said, I know what you're thinking. But it's still funny.



If you look closely, the person in front of grandma ducks. What? Are you too good to take one for grandma? Ungrateful jerk. She made cookies for you!

It's Not Writer's Block...

So I know I haven't written anything in a while. We had a great trip to Tennessee. Got to see a lot of family and friends and had a great view from our cabin in the smokies. It's always good to see my family as I don't get to see them too much being that I live a million miles away and they are allergic to flying.

I have a couple of good stories to share, but I'm going to try to work on them a bit to make them worth your while. Till then...

Sweet Home...Tennessee?

Home.

It conveys so much into such a little word. Four little letters, but it conjures giant memories.

I grew up in Kokomo, IN. I didn't move away till I went to college, but even then I went home whenever I could. Then, when I was 20, I moved to Las Vegas. About six months later, my parents moved to Knoxvegas, TN.

So now, when I go see my parents, I'm not really going home, in the true sense of the word. Yet it feels like home. When people ask, I say I'm going home.

I think because home isn't a house. Home isn't even a city. Home is a feeling, a state of being.

Next week, I'm going home to see my family. There will be a family reunion with lots of cousins and aunts and uncles and people that I'm supposed to know but frankly have absolutely no idea who they are. There will be lots of food and I will probably eat as much of it as I can. Because that's what you do when you go home.

Where is home to you?

Keep Warm and Well Fed...

"You got a dollar?"

I smelled her before I heard her. I ignored her even though I know she was talking to me.

"Jake, you got a dollar for a hamburger?"

"Dang these work name badges!"

I looked up at the wrinkly old woman. I'm not quite sure how she was going to eat the hamburger with her two remaining teeth, but by this point, it was pretty difficult to pretend she was talking to anyone else but me.

I had a decision to make. I had about fourteen cents in my pocket and a Lincoln in my wallet. No Washingtons. If I pulled out my wallet I had no choice but to give her the five. I'm pretty sure she wasn't going to make change either. Maybe because she wasn't wearing one of those change machines the skating waitresses at Sonic wear. Maybe because she was wearing something of a Goodwill special. Or maybe because she smelled. In any case, I knew if good ol' Abe left the wallet, that was the last I was going to see of him.

I was tempted to give her the fourteen cents. I mean, there were plenty of other people in the lobby of Micky D's. If everyone gave her fourteen cents, she could supersize her meal and probably have enough for a sundae.

A couple of years ago I was at a ski retreat that Josh Finklea spoke at. I remember him teaching on loving the unloveable. Especially when they ask for money.

"They might use it to buy drugs or alcohol," one student argued.

"Really?" Josh replied. "And what were you going to use it for? Going to the movies? Getting the latest CD?" (Like I said, this was few years back, before itunes and their wonderfully addictive downloads.)

His point was, we waste so much money on ourselves, and sometimes in sinful ways, that the "they might spend it on booze" arguement doesn't really hold a lot of water. Since then, my defenses have always been broken. I've yet to come up with better reasoning as why I deserve my money more than someone in need.

Plus, being that we were already in McDonald's (insert copyright sign) I was pretty sure they didn't sell beer. So out came the five. Her eyes lit up.

"Wow! Thanks Jake."

As I sat in my chair finishing my double cheeseburger (still the best deal in fast food) I thought, "How can I get out of here before she comes back and sits down next to me?" But, of course, I still had one more double cheeseburger and a grilled honey mustard snack wrap (because the fried one would be too fatty, and I am the epitome of health). So I braced myself for what I knew was coming.

"You live around here Jake?"

"No."

"Where do you live?" She asks.

"Southwest part of the valley." (Sigh, here it comes...)

And there it went. I asked her where she lived. She said downtown. Here and there. I knew what she meant. I knew before she said it. I have to be honest, I don't know how to act in these situations. I gave her money. I act interested in her life. I say things like, "you know, if you wouldn't gamble all your money away, you might have enough to buy a cheeseburger."

Helen. Her name was Helen. She has a son that is an EMT in LA. She hasn't spoken to him in a couple of years. She is unemployed and receives a small social security check.

The more I study the scriptures the more I feel that these are the people Christ cares the most about. The reason He came to this world. The captive. The blind. The downtrodden.

And I feel so inadequate. I feel like the person James writes about when he says:

"Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him, "Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed," but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead." (James 2:15-17)

So is it my responsibility to feed and clothe every homeless person in Las Vegas? Nevada? America? The World?

Yes. Yes, I think it is.

I'm The Greatest...(not me, Bob Barker)

Classic.

163%...

The other day I went over to my friend matt's house and he revealed possible the greatest news I've heard in the last couple of months. ESPN Classic is now showing old re-runs of American Gladiators!

Man, when I was growing up, I wanted to be just like Nitro. Down to the mullet and everything. In the history of American Gladiators though, one contestant stood out above all the rest. Wesley "Two Scoops" Berry. He was THE MAN! I searched on Youtube to find a clip of this true american gladiator. Unfortunately, the only clip I could find was of his stint on "International Gladiators." Regardless, this is a perfect example of why he was the greatest contestant of all time. Enjoy.

Best. Sine. Ever.

Ideas?...

Over on Greg's site he asked for suggestions to help him write a new album. I'm in need of some suggestions but of a different kind.

At the end of this month I'm going back to good ol' Rocky Top to visit my family and go to my first Walker Family Reunion in about ten years. Last week my Dad called me and asked if I wanted to preach for him that sunday. I don't get a chance to preach very often so I jumped at the chance. This weekend I sat down to work on my sermon and I realized, I have no idea what to preach on! So, I thought it would be fun to open it up to suggestions.

What do you think I should preach on?

Measure In Love

125884800 seconds.

2098080 minutes.

34968 hours.

1457 days.

208 weeks.

4 years.

Four years ago today I stood at an altar in front of my father and watched as the most beautiful girl walked down towards me.

The girl with the green eyes.

There is a song in the musical "RENT" (and, subsequently, in the movie), that talks about how to measure time spent together:

five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes, five hundred twenty five thousand moments so dear, five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes, how do you measure? measure a year

in daylights, in sunsets, in midnights, in cups of coffee, in inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife

in five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes, how do you measure a year in a life?

how about love? how about love? how about love?
measure in love...
seasons of love...
seasons of love...

125,884,800 seconds.

And not a single one I'd take back.

I love you Candice.

Bring Me To Life...

I drive about 30 minutes everyday to and from work. Most of the time, I like to listen to podcasts on my ipod. Especially sermons because they are usually around 30-35 minutes so it almost works out perfect. I listened to a sermon this morning by Mark Driscoll that was really, really good.

Like jelly on your biscuits and gravy good.

Here is a quote I wanted to share:

"The goal of religion isn't to recieve from God, but to receive God."

I really like that thought. I have several friends who are struggling right now. A couple of them are Christians. A couple of them aren't. And in each situation, from the outside, I can look and see that it is going to take Jesus to fix it. One's an addict dealing with a crack addiction. One is going through the roughest situation outside unfaithfulness I have ever heard of in a marriage. When I see this, I can only believe that Jesus is the answer. I know that sounds trite and cute, but I have tried to answer these things on my own before, and I know the results then.

So what can we do? Trust in Jesus. And when that's not enough? We pray to Jesus. And when nothing happens? We live for Jesus.

My friend Bill has a saying that changed the way I look at my relationship with God. He said, "It's not about God trying to change us from bad to good, but bringing us from death to life."

I can't change the way people live their lives. But maybe I can change the way they view God. Then maybe, just maybe, they will let God give them life.

You Know You're From Indiana When...

I saw this on someone's Myspace (Thanks Kelli!) and thought it was pretty funny. I've taken the liberty to edit a few things. Because I wanted to. Because this is my blog and I can do whatever I want.

You know you're from Indiana when...
* You think the State Bird is Larry.
* You don't know what a "Pacer" is and have never even wondered.
* You know that "Mellencamp" went to "Cougar" and back to "Mellencamp." (And you're proud you've been to Seymour!)
* You can say "French Lick" without laughing out loud.
* There's actually a college near you named "Ball State."
* The last "g" is silent in any word ending in "ing."
* You know several people who have hit a deer.
* You've never met any celebrities.
* You've seen all the biggest bands 10 years after they were popular.
* Down south to you means Kentucky.
* You have no problem spelling or pronouncing "Terre Haute."
* Your school was canceled because of cold.
* Your school was canceled because of heat.
* You know what the phrase "Knee-high by the Fourth of July" means.
* You've play Euchre.
* You've seen a running car, with nobody in it, in the parking lot of the grocery store, no matter what time of year it is.
* You end your sentences with an unnecessary preposition. Example: "Where's my coat at?"
* Detassling was your first job. Bailing hay, your second. Or you could stack hay, swim in the pond to clean off, and then have the strength to play a couple of games of hoops, all in the same barn lot on the same day.
* You've ever had to switch from "heat" to "A/C" in the same day.
* You say things like "catty-wumpus" and "kitty-corner."
* You install security lights on your house and garage, then leave both of them unlocked.
* You carry jumper cables in your car regularly.
* You drink "Coke."
* You know that strangers are the only ones who come to your front door.
* Kids and dogs ride in the passenger seats of cars and the backs of pickups.
* You think nothing of it in spring and fall to be stuck behind a farm implement driving on the roads.
* High school basketball game draws a bigger crowd on the weekend than movie theaters, IF you have movie theaters.
* Driving is better in the winter because the potholes are filled with snow.
* The local paper covers national and international headlines on one page, but requires six for local sports.
* You can see at least two basketball hoops from your yard.
* You can name every one of Bob Knight's "exploits" over the last few years.
* You shop at Marsh.
* Damon Bailey was your childhood hero.
* The biggest question of your youth was "IU or Purdue."
* Indianapolis was the "big city."
* The Wabash river was the biggest body of water near your house.
* You know several different definitions as to what a Hoosier really is.
* People at your high school chewed tobacco.
* Everyone knows who the town cop is, where he lives, and whether he is at home or on duty.
* To get to school you had to drive on a gravel road, a road with several right-angle turns in it, or if you were really lucky, over a covered bridge.
* You actually know what the CART vs IRL debate is about and have taken a side.
* The vehicle of choice in your area is not a car, but a pickup.
* You are a BIG John Mellencamp fan. (But really, who isn't?)
* You've been to the Covered Bridge Festival.
* You took back roads to get there. "Why sit in traffic"?
* To you, tenderloin is not an expensive cut of beef, but a big, salty, breaded piece of pork served on a bun with pickles.

I Tried...

to post this a couple days ago, but it didn't work. Here it is in all it's midget glory.

If You Liked Spiderman 3...

Then you probably won't like this.

You Can't Make This Stuff Up...

Funniest. Article. Ever.

And Now For Something Completely The Same...

You Belong in Amsterdam

A little old fashioned, a little modern - you're the best of both worlds. And so is Amsterdam. Whether you want to be a squatter graffiti artist or a great novelist, Amsterdam has all that you want in Europe (in one small city).

What European City Do You Belong In?

Thanks to Dustin for the link.

Two Post Tuesday...

This one is too good to pass up!

Watch every episode of Saved By The Bell here.

Fantastic!

The MTV Movie Awards Sucked...

I know I'm a couple of days late to the party, but come on! Mtv's awards shows have really gone down the tube lately. Sarah Silverman did an okay job as a host, but some of her comments even made me uncomfortable.

And I club baby seals!

Well, I don't actually, but I do think I could come up with some better catagories then "Best Summer Movie You Haven't Seen Yet." How much did Michael Bay have to pay for that one? That is the lamest award I have ever seen. Before the show, it should've recieved the "Lamest Awards Show Award Not Given Out Yet"

Now that would've been good television.

Because....Just Because

Where In The World Is Carmen Sandiego...

So, not technically the world, but if she's not in America, I'm not looking for her. This is every state I've been to. Have you been to them all?



create your own personalized map of the USA
or check out ourCalifornia travel guide

Food for Porn...

Here is an interesting article from Craig Gross over at xxx church. It'll take a second and read the comments too, but check it out and then come back...

What do you guys think? Is it all a clever marketing ploy? What exactly does it mean to be in the world but not of it? Does this cross the line (Hooters, Porn Shows, Club appearences, etc)? Or is this exactly where Jesus would be?

My dad has a quote under the glass top of his desk that goes something like this:

"Some try to save people from the safety of the pew or the church bell. I want to run a rescue shop within a yard of hell"

They certainly have done some things that have made me wonder about "the line" but on the other hand, for a lot of men, they might be the last stop between a life with Christ and a life of despair.

What do you think?

Where Was I...

I'm usually up on the viral video scene. Most of my day is spent surfing the net, so I have time to check out my favorite sites and get the best of the best. Every now and again, I'll post something that's worthy. Well, apparently this has been out for a pretty long time, but this weekend was the first time I'd ever seen it. My buddy Aarron showed this to me on Sunday night and I thought it was hilarious. I hope you enjoy...Charlie the Unicorn.

Reality in Pearl Harbor...

May 23, 2007. A day which will live in infamy.

No, not because I went to the dentist for the first time in 10 years, though this is true (well, I did have my wisdom teeth removed about three years ago, but that was by an oral surgeon, not a dentist, but this was the first cleaning in 10 years). That is a horrifying experience in and of itself as the hygenist scrapes 10 years of plaque (isn't that a gross word?) and bacteria off my teeth and gums. But that's not why.

No, not because the dentist found 7 cavaties, which are the first of any I have ever had in my entire existence. Though yesterday before 8 was the last time I could honestly say (even though it was in ignorance) that I had never had any cavaties in my 27 year existence. But, low and behold, the good doc found seven of them bugars in my pearly yellows. For reasons I'm not surprised, see above.

No, not because I had my second interview in as many weeks and am 99% sure I am going to get the position, though that is true as of yesterday as well.

No, the reason yesterday will always be a momentous day in the history of Jake Keck is because of my entrance to reality and adulthood. You see, as I've mentioned before, I've always had a secret desire to be a rock star...or not so secret. This wasn't born of my awesome singing talent or my natural ability to rock the mic (which makes sense because I posses none of those). No, despite my lack of natural ability, I was still born with the gift of desiring to be worshipped by millions of adorable fans.

I mean adoring fans.........either way I guess.

Though this amazing gift was bestowed upon me, it somehow hasn't come to fruition. I tried my best. Got a tatoo. Had my tongue pierced. And my body has always been an object to be worshipped (wait....I mean my brother's body...)

I was even in a band.

But alas, as I lay in the death, er I mean, dentist chair, waiting to be examined, I had this thought:

"You know, I haven't been to the dentist in 10 years. And I've never been to this one. I don't want to hear about how bad for my teeth my tongue piercing is. Plus, I don't want it to screw up the x-rays. I'll take it out.

But if I take it out for that, I might as well leave it out for my interview. I want to make sure nothing holds me back and allows him to have a reason to not give me the job.

Oh man...should I just leave it out for good? How will anyone ever know I was supposed to be a rock star? Maybe that will never happ..."

And that's when reality set in. I reached inside my mouth and removed the shiny little post.

Single tear.

The Power Hour...

During my lunches lately, I've been reading through Jeremiah. There was no particular reason I picked Jeremiah except for the "fire in my bones" line. That's a good one.

What a depressing book! It's all about how horrible and awful God's people were. He compares them to prostitutes, old rags, donkeys, mother deer who abandon their young, and much more. Apparently, they weren't doing a whole lot right. So God picks this young man, Jeremiah, to speak to them. Everywhere he goes, all he gets is resistance. All his efforts are futile. He's real discouraged and a little scared, and then God says this to him,

“If you return to me, I will restore you
so you can continue to serve me.
If you speak good words rather than worthless ones,
you will be my spokesman.
You must influence them;
do not let them influence you!
They will fight against you like an attacking army,
but I will make you as secure as a fortified wall of bronze.
They will not conquer you,
for I am with you to protect and rescue you.
I, the Lord, have spoken!"
(Jeremiah 15:19,20 NLT)
First of all, I like how God ends his communication. It's a little more powerful then, "Seacrest out!" The NIV starts with, "If you repent..." Now, Jeremiah wasn't necessarily doing anything wrong, but God was always wanting to draw his people to himself. This must always begin with humbly confessing what it is that draws us away.

He encourages Jeremiah to influence the culture without letting the culture influence him. For 5000 years that has been the cry of God. In the world but not of it. Redeeming culture through our participation in it, not our abstintion.

I'm not the greatest theologian, and sometimes when I read my Bible, it's more like quantity instead of quality. But today, I couldn't get away from this verse. I'm not sure why, maybe because it scared me.

Dear God, may our words be useful and not worthless.

Amen.

It Appears...

...that Lehrer's Flowers and I have the exact same goal!

Remember When...

...Dan Mejerle used to do this for you on NBA Jam? It's fantastic.

I Can't Wait...

...for Conan to replace Jay. Then there will be nothing stopping Conan from taking over the world...or, at least the 11:35-12:30 time slot.

Weekday Update...

It's been awhile since I wrote a blog with any sustenance, but this isn't going to be one of those. I just felt like it was time to give an update on my life:

Had an interview yesterday with the VP of Sales for my company. I'm trying to get a job as a New Home Consultant. Basically it's the real estate agent that works on behalf of my company with the home buyers. It'd be a pretty good pay jump which would justify the schedule change. They work either Thursday through Monday or Saturday through Wednesay. That'd be a bit of a change and Candice and I would have to figure out how to see each other. But it's the way I want my career to head, so you gots to do what you gots to do.

Thursday and Friday of this week our big boss is coming to town. Everybody is on high alert. I try not to let these things bother me to much. I figure I'll do what I've always done because it's always been my best anyway. But my bosses are driving me crazy!!!!!!!!!!

Hope your weeks are going better than mine.

Did Anyone Else...

...puke after seeing this? Not so much for the crap movie that it was, but for the crap money they took from my wallet. Apparently, when you make a good movie you get to follow it up with two crappy sequals. If you thought it was good, well, you were wrong. It wasn't. It just wasn't.

The hype was amazing. I mean, just look at that movie poster. That looks like it could be incredible. When will a movie live up to it's hype?

Oh wait, I know, when they make it awesome and call it 300.

The Most Extreme Hockey Fight In Ages...

I'm not sure how this happened and I didn't see it....oh wait, that's right. It's the NHL.



Awesome.

It's not The Office...

...but it's still pretty stinking funny.

Heard a quote...

...by a famous preacher. It goes something like this:

"If your sin is small, your savior is small. But if your sin is large, your Savior is large."

Agree or disagree? Discuss...

The Matrix Reloaded...

There are four men in my life. Each has his own role. Three of them are awful, one of them is good, and only two of them are real.

The first man in my life is the me I want you to see. This is who you know me as. This is the me that cares about others. This is the me that reads his Bible at Starbucks. This is the dedicated employee me. This is the blogger me. I repent and confess only of those sins I am okay with you knowing I do.

The second man is the Jesus I believe in. This is the Jesus that allows me to explain away greed as taking care of my family. This is the Jesus the prompts us to manifest destiny. This is the Jesus most of us pray to. This Jesus wants us to be healthy, wealthy, and wise. This Jesus just wants me to be comfortable in life.

The third man is the darkest man. This is the real me. The one who sins, though it's not just my sinful nature. This is the me that wants to sit on the couch all day. This is the me that slacks off as much as he can at work, yet makes himself look as good as he can. This is the me that is racist. This is the me that is scared. This is the me that worships. More often then not, I spend more of the real me's time trying to hide my sin then I do trying not to do it. No one really knows the real me. Sometimes not even myself.

The fourth man is Jesus. I don't know a lot about this man really. I read about him, but most of the time, my pre-conceived ideas only allow me to hear what I want to hear. So I only get to know the parts of Jesus that I want to know. This Jesus is very mysterious. He says things like, "Those that aren't for us are against us" and, "Those that aren't against us are for us." But He is the Savior of my soul.

The bible tells us in second Peter to grow in the grace and knowlege of Jesus. I had a prof in college tell me this meant to become more like Jesus and to know more about Jesus. The problem with this is it takes the two real men in my life.

To really grow to be more like Jesus calls the real me into action. The fake me will try to make you think I am growing by reading the bible in public. By blogging about things such as this. By praying long and lengthy prayers. But it takes the real me to wake up and do this.

To get to know Jesus I have to be okay with learning something I didn't know. Most of the time that's a really scary thing. Think about a subject you feel like you know a lot about. Maybe it's math or football or beauty pagents. Go ahead, think of one. Now pretend there is a law or a rule or some requirement that you had no idea existed.

Did you know that Jesus only talked about Judgement Day once? I know He mentioned His second coming and signs of the times and all that, but about the activities on that day He only spoke once. He said He's going to put us into two groups. One on His right and one on His left. The group on His right, He will thank for taking care of Him on this earth and welcome them to heaven. The group on His left, He will curse and send to hell. They will ask, "Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?" And He will say, "You didn't recognize me? You didn't see the real me in everyone else?"

It will be the real me that stands before the real Jesus. May they both become more known to me.

I Have Crossed Over...

Or maybe I was always on this side to begin with. Either way, I now know firmly where I stand.

When I was in grade school, I didn't even realize there was a separation. I lived within the tension of the two sides and didn't even notice the difference. I played trumpet in band and was on the basketball team. I was in Art Stretch and played football at recess. The line in the sand was a little blurry.

Then came junior high. At our Junior High, it was the combination of two elementary schools, which meant the first weeks were spent establishing the heirarchy. I did my best to bridge the gap again, but I slowly realized where the power lay. I quit band. I started working out. I did good enough in school to stay in the honors program, but not good enough to be the best. Still, though, I had my feet firmly planted in both camps.

This continued on throughout High School. I tutured the football players of which I was the captain of the team. I wrestled, but I ran track. Still straddling the line.

I remember growing up, wishing that it was all over. No, not my life, but the whole growing up thing. Stop getting hair in weird places. Stop having my voice crack at the most awkward moments in the world. I'm finally there. (well, I do still have the weird hair growth...)

Last night I think I was at my pinnacle. I was watching "Heroes" and at one point I literally jumped out of my chair and started cheering. I'm not sure when it was. But I have firmly lifted my foot from the 'cool' and am now fully residing in the 'nerd' camp.

You can go for the obvious joke here, it's okay. Or allow me, "You were never in the cool camp to begin with!" For all you jokers out there, allow me one last retort...

You just remember what camp you want to be in this weekend when you watch a guy in a spider suit fight crime with his super-spider abilities. Then I ask, "Which camp do you want to be in?"

Censorship And A Sock Drawer...

I did something today that I promised myself I would never do.

When I began this blog I teetered with keeping my identity a secret. That's why I'm the anonymous human. I've read reallivepreacher.com for a couple of years now and I really liked the idea of being able to say whatever I wanted without any kind of remorse. Without the thought of offending anyone or worrying about what anyone might think.

I wasn't wanting to write a blog where I could cuss, but a blog where if I cussed, no one would think my salvation was in jeopardy. But ultimately, I realized that if I didn't tell anyone I existed, no one would ever know. And I'm narcissistic enough to want people to comment and tell me how good I am, that I just couldn't keep it a secret.

So then I had to wrestle with saying how I really felt sometimes with what some people I know read this would think if I did. I have really enjoyed the freedom that comes with not being on the pedestal of full time ministry. I enjoy being able to have conversations with people at the poker table and not have to lie to avoid having an awkward conversation with the guy next to me who just told me what he did with his hooker last night. I enjoy just being a christian who ministers to his world. Having beer in the fridge and not worry what image it says.

Yesterday I posted a video about some really stupid people. It was a guy who thought it would be a great idea to dive through a slip and slide drenched in alcohol. Oh yeah, and the alcohol was feeding the bon fire taking place on top of the slip and slide. Well, long story short, he burnt half his body to a crisp and hopefull made himself sterile. After some conversations, I pulled the video....okay, Dad made me take it off, but I don't blame him. The language on there was bad and it showed full frontal male nudity. And lets be honest...who wants to see that?

But the reason I pulled it is because of my brothers. I have three little guys that look up to me and don't always know what's right and wrong. I really wouldn't want to be held responsible when the deck goes up in flames on my parents house and Nic is below it with his slip and slide and a can of gasoline. So, even I have bad judgment calls.

For now, I'll just hide this one in my sock drawer...

No Words...

I came across this little ditty on the youtube. Hilarious.

She DOES love to laugh...

My friend Betsy over at betsy loves to laugh posted this and I thought I would see how bad I could butcher it.

For hours and hours I could...Find something else to do instead of the task that would only take me five minutes.

I feel best about myself...when I look at myself naked in the mirror...I am SEXY!!!!!!!!!

I absolutely cannot stand...bloggers who copy stuff from others...

I am afraid of...the letter Q (I had to work up courage just to type that!)

I love to splurge by...spending money...how else to you splurge? Cause seriously, if there's another way, I would love to save money.

I save by...trying to find new ways not to splurge.

I am trying to work on...finding new ways not to splurge...is this like the same question posted three different ways?

In high school...I was never allowed to splurge.

In college...I was too broke to splurge.

I feel I'm a good mom when...I splurge?

I regret...splurging.

I could never have too many...chocolate chip cookies

And you thought I was going to say splurge now didn't you?

And This Is Why...

The Office is the greatest show on the tele.

I Wonder For Elysium...

I miss drumming.

I was never very good at it, but it wasn't really my fault. The couple of guys at our church that formed a little band were in need of a drummer. They had the equipment but not the body. They had been hired for a show in Ohio and needed someone. So I volunteered and learned in two weeks how to lay down the skinny. I must say it wasn't bad for only two weeks.

The problem is, I never got any better.

I took a personality test one time. I guess it wasn't so much a test as it was a profile. Cause you can't fail. You can only find out you're insane. Anyway, I found out that I enjoy new challenges but get bored easily. It's why I always want new cars. I'm already tired of the one I got.

Looking back, I guess it makes sense. I had a sort term goal and met it. After that, what's to learn? But sitting at my desk today, listening to a little Coldplay made me long to get back behind the skins. Drums are a funny thing you know? I learned to play guitar when I was 16. Of course (once again) I should probably be a lot better than I am now 11 years later, but at least it's something I can pick up everynow and again when I'm at home and bored. But to be a drummer requires an investment. You have to find a place and time to practice when you won't annoy the crap out of everybody. Plus, it's not like you can just bang on any ol' set of pots and pans. Getting a drum set is quite expensive.

So, I'll probably just sit here and miss it. No big deal. I'll get bored with missing it in a few minutes and decide to do something else.

Like write a blog.

I Might Be Slow, But I'll Make It...

One thing that really sucks about not being in full time ministry is just the feeling that you're out of it. There is a whole nother (is that even a word?) cuture that is out there and when you aren't a part of it...well, you aren't a part of it.

It's like when your friends go see a movie in the theaters and you wait till it comes out on DVD. And then you try and bring it up in conversation.

"So...how about "The Usual Suspects" huh? Never saw that coming."

"What? That was like ten years ago."

Anywho, I felt a bit like that yesterday. My church showed a video that Bill Hybels taped with Bono. Now, before you all criticize my speed at coming to the table, let me just ask you a question: Did you know there is a new kind of epoxy for all your retro anchor bolts? You didn't? Man, you're slow.

So, I'm sure this video has been out for a while, but I just saw it and I want to talk about it now. There was so much on there that I identified with. So much that convicted me. And so much that made me love my God. If you haven't seen it yet, I have no idea how to get ahold of one except to pray to Bill Hybels (he is right under Jesus after all) and maybe he'll put one under your pillow when you lose your next tooth.

Something on there that really gripped me was when Bono was talking about christian art. He said that chrisitan art seemed to lack the tension of living for Christ but failing miserably. I thought it a beautiful way of saying christian music sucks. It really caused me to wonder about the whole business side of christianity. It seems in a lot of areas, the only reason we have it is because the product wouldn't survive in the 'real' world without it.

I'm probably rambling here, and this might not make much sense to anyone else, but it furthered my philosophy that it just makes sense to be a christian where you're at with what you're doing. I mean, if christian music was any good, it wouldn't have to survive on christian book stores for most of it's sales or christian publications for most of it's advertising. If it really encapsulated the struggle of being holy in an unholy world, of searching for something beyond, of dealing with everyday life issues, maybe, just maybe, it could make it without the help of the christian market.

Kind of like...oh...I don't know...U2.

A Moment of Silence, Please...

Bubba's dead.

My wife is a kindergarten teacher and as such she recieves a plethora of gifts throughout the year. In her first year of teaching, one parent gave her a Beta fish. It was a beautiful little guy (or girl...couldn't really tell, you know?) with a dark blue main color and some red on his fins and what not. My wife held a contest with her students to name the fish. Somehow, and I'll never understand this, the name "Bubba" beat out the likes of "Fish", "Nemo" and my personal favorite, "Shark".

Well, winter break came and my wife brought Bubba home to take care of him during the break. Somehow, in someway, something happened to Bubba. We thought he had died, but we think now maybe he had a fish stroke. All we know is he could no longer use the right side of his body. He would lay on the bottom of the bowl and just swim around with the left side. Eventually, he could no longer reach the top of the bowl so we had to transfer him to a little dish so it wouldn't take so much effort to get his food. Slowly, but surely, all the color began to fade from his little body. His vibrant blue turned to a more familiar fishy silver. The crimson red now turned to something of a rust color. Not wanting to disappoint the kids, my wife pulled the ol' switcharoo and bought a new beta so her kids wouldn't have to see this now decrepit looking one.

The new "Bubba" looked almost identical and had way more energy than the old "Bubba". When my wife would come home on a break she would place the new Bubba by the old Bubba and it was very sad. The vibrant colors on new Bubba made you feel sorry for old Bubba.

Then a funny thing happened. New Bubba died. After only about 8 months, one morning he was done. And in the little cup next to new dead Bubba was Old Bubba swimming around on his side.
So Old Bubba became something of a legend. Though he looked like a fish version of Skeletor, he continued to be his little retarded fish-self. Soon he became very endearing to us and we even moved him into our master bath vanity so we could say hey to him every morning and make sure he was doing okay.

On Wednesday, April 11th, at approx. 5:15 a.m., Old Bubba met Jesus. He had outlasted New Bubba by almost two years. As I flushed his little body down the toilet, I must admit I was a little sad. Such a survivor.

I felt the need to dignify his life with some sort of remembrance. It may not be much, and only about two of you will read this, but at least it's something....a moment for Bubba.

Single tear.

God Works...

"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose."
Romans 8:28 (NIV)

I've known this verse for a long time. It's one I've heard my mom say a thousand times. Behind John 3:16, it's probaby the second greatest promise made in Bible. That no matter what happens, what evil comes along, that there is a chance it will turn out for ultimate good. I say a chance only because there are conditions on this promise. This isn't just blanket, cover-all that everything that happens on earth is ultimately good. No, before the good comes, certain qualifications must be met. But before I get there, let's take a good look at the first part of that verse...

"And we know in all things God works..."

Some translations say "all things work for good". I like the New International Version best. It makes God the subject of the verb 'works' as apposed to 'things' being the subject. And anytime you make God the subject, I think it's a step in the right direction. The greek word for 'works' used there is 'sunergeo' which means, among other things, "be partner in labor". I think of it as, God working with us and through us to turn the evil in this world into good. It's not that the works themselves suddenly turn out that way, but that the creator of the universe takes an active role in working to turn things that are wrong right. To make things the way they ought to be.

"...for the good of those who love him..."

So here we find the first condition. That God only promises (but does not limit his helping) to those who love him. I remember growing up and asking how we are supposed to love God. 99% of the time I was answered with the verse John 14:15, "If you love me, you will obey what I command." This was to imply that doing good deeds, doing the things we are commanded to do is loving Jesus. But that simply isn't true. Jesus says, "If you love me..." meaning we would already love him to do the things he commands us to do. The love would already be inside of us and would manifest itself into action, but the action itself isn't love. The truth is, if we really want to love Jesus, if we really want to love the king of kings, we simply have to accept his gift. To really love Jesus is to say yes to his grace.

"...and have been called according to his purpose."

Here is the second condition. I'm sure there are many interpretations of this last part of the verse. Those on the Calvinist side of the debate would probably use this as a prooftext of predestination and those on the Arminianist side would probably say it's those that follow his will. Since I believe it's both, I can say it is certainly for those on his side of the fence. That while the action of good works isn't a substitute for love, our love can't exist without it. That if we do indeed love Christ, our deeds would reflect it according to his will.

So why the sermon? Because this verse has come to mean a lot to me in the past couple of weeks. As I type, my Grandma is laying in an ICU unit somewhere in Michigan. They just discovered the tumor they removed on Friday was cancerous. They don't know how much more is there. Sunday night she 'coded' which apparently means her heart stopped or was so weak it wasn't pumping blood to the necessary organs. And I have to say God is good.

My grandma is a kind soul. Even if I didn't always agree with their beliefs, they stood up for what they believed and humbly went about their business. She stood by my Grandpa as they started churches from Montana to Tennessee and many places in between. She has a great singing voice and makes a killer ham. How can cancer work for good? Because God's in charge. Because my Grandma understands eternal life doesn't start when you die. Because Jesus is enough good for everybody. It may sound hokey and it may sound trite. But He's either enough or he's not.

If He's not, then he doesn't promise us a thing.

And if He is, then we already know it's true.

In The Year 2000...

When I was growing up, all I ever wanted to be was a rock star (except when I was like in first grade...I wanted to be a doctor so I could look at naked people). Anyway, when I hit high school, some friends of mine put together a little ditty called "Last Exit." We weren't any good, but we were the only local band around for miles, so we kinda won the war of attrition if you know what I mean. It was great though, we made a little E.P. that we sold to our parents and grandparents. We played a couple shows and the occasional CIY. But our crowning acheivement was by far the time we opened up for Skillet. At the time, Skillet was an up and coming christian artist who rocked your face off. We had the concert at our high school and since my church was the one putting it on and I was the one organizing it, I got to choose the opening act. It just so happens Last Exit was free that night so we put together a 20 minute show. There was one song and one song only when I got to leave the dungeon of my drums for the glory of the microphone. It was to make it's debut at the Skillet show. Over 800 people packet the careteria/theater at my high school and cheered me on as I sang Blur's "Song 2." Somewhere there's a pic of me in front of this enormous throng of adoring fans. I love that pic.

After the concert we took Skillet out to the local Applebees for some fine dining. I remember sitting and talking with their then-guitarist Ken. He told us if we really wanted to make it we needed a hook. He suggested we name our band " ". (I only put the quotes in for effect. He didn't make the little gay finger quote things, he just didn't say anything.) He suggested getting a bunch of fruit of the loom white T's that we could sell with our band name and logo on them which would be nothing. I remember it vividly only because it was so funny.

Well, fast forward ten years and we are in the middle of the emo world. Make's me laugh. This whole story is a lead up to a clip I found from some comedy show in Austrailia. Enjoy.

Make the Madness Stop...

No, not march madness, although I've pretty much stopped watching after Thursday and Friday night. How is it possible to have every single team that you want to win lose? Butler, Tennessee and UNLV all lost really close games. UNLV put on a great comeback in the last three minutes of the game. So close.

But the madness that needs to stop is this song. My buddy Jeff gave me a copy of an old Damien Rice CD "O". I've had song number four 'Cannonball' stuck in my head for like a week now. The rest of that cd is a little strange, though I did give it a chance on my ipod.

I think part of the reason it's so prominate in my head is because they used it on an episode of "The Black Donelly's" (I think that's how you spell it). That show is good. I mean like real good. If you haven't watched it yet, you should catch up on Itunes and check it out this Monday.

I mean like jelly on your biscuits and gravy good.

I Should Blog More Offen...

Did you know that the 't' in 'often' is silent? In the words of Johnny Carson, "I did not know that." Seriously. Maybe I'm the last one on the planet that didn't know that, but the correct pronunciation of the word 'often' sounds like 'offen'. Look it up.

Have you ever had that happen to you? When something in your world you believed in with all your heart was found to be false. Maybe it wasn't even something earth shattering, like the anunciation of a word. Maybe it's something very profound. In either case, it feels like the life you've lived seemed veiled or incomplete, and now the curtain has been torn and you are viewing life a bit more raw now.

I think that I am really selfish. I know we all that have bit of "I'm number one"-itus, but I think mines a bit deeper than that. I was walking through Vons the other day and I thought, "I should get my wife something." Now, I know the Supermarket isn't the most romantic place to go shopping for your wife, but I thought, what the hey? So I went to the cards and looked a few, until I got a phone call that distracted me. After the phone call, I decided that I was hungry, so I went to Cold Stone and got myself an ice cream (nutritious and delicious). It wasn't really until this moment that I realized I never got anything for the girl with the green eyes.

I think I need to work on that. I would really like to love my wife as she deserves. I was reading in John 3 the other day and when John the Baptist says, "He must become greater, and I must become less," it just cuts to my heart. I think that line could apply in all our relationships, not just the one with Christ, though it certainly applies there as well. My wife needs to become greater and greater in my thoughts and actions, and my wants and desires need to become less and less. I think if I can start to do that, my selfishness won't pop up so offen.

The Smells Of Summer...

I washed my car for the first time in a long time today. I love the way she looks when she's not dirty. Such a beautiful car. The 'new car' scent never quite smells like it should so I go with the 'orange citrus'. Reminds me of summer. And with the weather in the lower 90's it's starting to feel like it to.

Watching the cars come off the drying assembly line, it's hard not to try and match the car with the owner. There's the Lexus SUV. Probably goes to the lady talking real estate on the phone. I spot a mullet at the table in the back. Let's see...any camaros in that line? nope? Well, then I'll go with the 80's mustang. Bingo. I spot one I can't place. It's a cadillac but it must be early nineties at best. It has a huge dent and scratches on the rear quarterpanel. Can't quite place that one. So I wait until it's done and the mexican twirls the rag. Up pops a rather unpleasant man who I only noticed before because he was arguing with the cashier when I first walked in to pay. He paces around the car holding the poor attendant hostage while he points at every miniscule droplet of water he can find. Doesn't want any streaks, see?

I find myself wondering if he's going to put this much effort into a car that will never look new, why bother? Why not put that energy and effort and time and money into something that at least when you're done, she'll sparkle and have that summer smell?

I find myself being that man many times. I put energy and effort in making something sparkle and smell fresh when in reality it's dead and foul. I read my bible just enough to give the air of superiority. I pray just often enough to show my piety. I think, "My, aren't I spiritual." I read the right books to know the right answers to the right questions in the right conversations. And I am so very, very wrong.

I wonder what it might be like if I gave in and let Him renew me. Instead of working hard on something that will never be new, what if I died to myself so I could know what new really means. Instead of holding people hostage with my piousness, I might serve them with my humility.

Finally, my car's done. She looks beautiful. I love the smell of summer.

Let Your Thinking and Believing Become Doing and Serving...

I was reading some blogs on the internet today and came across this little bit of writing. It comes from the blog of real live preacher. Something about it just resonated with me, like when you know you've been missing something but can't remember what it is until you find it. I encourage you to check out his blog anyway, as it has some great thoughts, but at least, enjoy this little ditty:

~Let go of big things and embrace little things.
~Ignore loud things and listen for quiet things.
~Put aside obvious things and seek out hidden things.
~Forget easy things and learn hard and ancient things.
~Stop saving your life and start losing it.
~Let your thinking and believing become doing and serving.
~Quit trying to arrive and become at home on the journey.
~Lose your road maps and find a wise guide to walk with you

That's beautiful to me.

Remind Me Not To Ride With This Guy...

You might remember this guy as manliest cartwheel every after beeting a russian behemoth a few years back in the Olympics. Or you might remember him as the guy who got lost for a few days in the frozen wilderness of Idaho and had to have a toe amputated after his body temperature had dropped more than 10 degrees. Or you might remember him from a 2004 motorcylce accident where he was hit by a car and almost died at the scene.

Just this past week, he was flying a little airplane (when will people learn, if you have any amount of fame whatsoever, STAY OUT OF TINY AIRCRAFT!) and it crashed into an almost frozen lake. Three dudes had to swim for about two hours in the freezing water then huddle together at night for warmth until they were rescued.

When this guy was in gradeschool, he brought a bow and arrow in for show and tell. He managed to impale himself with the arrow in front of the whole class.

So basically, the moral of the story is, if you see Mr. Gardner coming your way...RUN!

These Guys Are Good...

These guys are my heroes. My brother and I came up with some fantastic games when we were kids, but I'm pretty sure we never did anything this cool. Sorry about the music...

Am I The Only One?

When I first saw the trailor, I thought, "This looks stupid. All that CG and special effect crap that ruined star wars. I won't see it."

Then I saw the second trailor. Then I thought, "You know, it may not be too bad. It's people fighting and swords and arrows and blood and stuff. How bad could it be."

Then I started to wonder what it was actually about.

And that's when I fell in love with the story.

You can read all about it at Wikipedia, but let me just say, I think I want to name my first kid Leonidas. It means "son of the Lion". Seriously.

My favorite part of the story is when King Xerxes of Persia is having a conference before the battle with Leonidas. He says that they are too outnumbered and if Leonidas will lay down his arms he'll make Leonidas king of all Greece under Persian rule. Leonidas tells him there is no way he could do that to his compatriots. This ticks Xerxes off and he aggressively orders Leonidas to lay down his arms and Leonidas says, "Come and get them."

Son of the Lion indeed.

In Case You Missed It...

I present the best moment of the Oscars...enjoy it while it lasts...

The Perfect Storm...

Have you ever had a perfect day? I mean the kind of day where everything goes right? Yesterday was one of those days for me.

I slept in till about 9:30. Then I got up, ate breakfast, threw my clubs into my jeep and took off for the golf course. Played a not-too-shabby 18 (well, for myself anyways...I'm sure there'd be a few people embarassed with my score). Came home to an immaculate house that my wonderful wife had slaved away all day cleaning. Hopped in the shower and then made some mean chili for some friends we had come over. Watched a hilarious movie, and then went to some other friends house for a party to cap the night off. Came home at about 11:00 pm and went straight to sleep.

Why can't they all be like that?

(Oh, and did I mention it was like 75 degrees all day?)
(Oh, and also, you have to spell degrees because there is no key on the keyboard with the little degrees sign)

See What I Mean?

We Wasted The Good Suprise On You...

When I was a kid, I loved the Oklahoma Sooners. Well, mostly their football team. And mostly because my Grandpa did. At that point, I really couldn't have cared less about college football. It was more about getting as much swag as I could that had the name "Sooner" on it. It's why I like the movie "Far and Away".

I remember one christmas telling my parents all I wanted was Oklahoma Sooners gear. Footballs, bed sheets, sweatshirts, whatever, as long as it had the word Sooner on it (although at that age I still wasn't sure what a 'sooner' actually was). Well, christmas eve comes and all is quiet. I, of course, can't wait for the morning, so I sneak out in the middle of the night with my flashlight, scissors and tape.

I pick the nearest gift with my name on it. With the precision of a seasoned surgeon, I slice the tape perfectly between the seams. Ever so quietly, I pull the object out. With much joy, I admire my new sooner's hat.

Fearing I might get caught, I quickly use the tape to re-assemble the gift with the kind of perfection that comes from years of sneaking. The next morning we bound down the hallway to our new gifts. My brother and my sister are excited about what the unknown has in store. I'm a bit more reserved. I try to play it off as maturity, but it was all because there was no more unknown. I knew what my gift was. Of course, when the moment came, I played the part of the excited kid getting exactly what he wanted.

I've never really thought about that christmas until yesterday.

Sure, the Colts beat the Bears. Whoopieding. Even when Hestor ran the opening kickoff back, I can honestly say there was never a moment I was worried. Somehow, I just knew that we were going to win. Not because of destiny or anything else, just because I knew we were a better team.

I have to be honest when I say the present opening came for me two weeks ago. When Jackson intercepted that Tom Brady pass, I jumped up and ran around my house screaming like a crazy person. Yesterday, I barely smiled. It was like it was a forgone conclusion.

Don't get me wrong. I've been waiting a looooooong time for the Colts to reach this point. I've been waiting since Colts stood for: Count On us to Lose This Sunday. Back when Dean Biasucci was the kicker, and Bill Brooks caught passes from Jack Trudeau. Yes, I've been through those low times. And it feels good for us to finally be at the pinnacle.

I think, though, the pinnacle is when you know you are the best. It's when you beat the best. Sorry Chicago, but the real super bowl was two weeks ago.

It had better commercials too.

Just a Side Note...

If you have an ipod and itunes, you need to subscribe to "The President's Weekly Radio Address". I know, I know, you don't want to listen to a half-hour long dissertation by our beloved commander-in-chief. Don't worry, this is the minute and a half parody. Make sure you have the title right and DOWNLOAD! It will make you giggle.

And The Battle Rages On...

This past sunday, a group of sixteen brave soldiers trudged onto a battlefied brown with the winter's death. We came from all parts of the valley, with tape and water bottles and cleats. Sixteen men, putting our reputations on the line in a war most of us were not prepared to fight.

It had been awhile since I had last strapped on the boots. The motion of attack had long faded and was but a sweet memory. The emergancy manuvers that had once been instinct had now become something of a chore and took more time.

As the battle lines were drawn, the anticipation grew. Men who had been mortals a mere hour preceding, had now become immortal gods on the eternal scales of a gridiron.

This was serious. This was a war.

With flags.

Okay, so it wasn't the epic event I was hoping for, but it was epic in other ways. Football is unique among most modern popular sports. With baseball, it only takes two to get together with a couple of mitts and make sport of it. With basketball, hockey, and soccer, you can literally practice by yourself. But not football.

Sure, you can toss the pigskin back and forth, but that is nothing like the assault that takes place after the ball has been snapped. Or the feeling of invincibility as you catch the touchdown pass. With football, it takes a concentrated effort of coordination. It isn't something that is just going to spontaneously errupt after a trip to starbucks.

When you are going to engage in this competition of greatness, you make the appointment days, if not weeks, ahead of time, ensuring the proper warriors of kinship are present. And the anticipation builds.

The last time I threw a ball in competition was during football intramurals at Johnson Bible College. It's amazing how quickly the throwing motion comes back. The instinct of linemen breathing down your neck, forcing you to scramble and throw a pass you have no business throwing. Your body cracks as the rust breaks free.

But then, you catch the receiver's eye. You know what he's thinking. He makes a break. You cock your arm and release with the power of a man's arm. And it all comes back. Poetry in motion.

The war was hard fought. And when the final whistle blew, the combatents threw their arms around each other and vowed to meet again in a couple of weeks...

After the soreness wore off.

Stephen Colbert Is A Genius....Seriously...

More Than Heaven...

It's been quite awhile since I've had anything real to blog about. Not that I have anything real to say right now, but I thought it might be nice to actually post words that I've written than ones I've simply copied and pasted into the Html area.

Two weeks ago I started real estate school. It's been a lot of fun learning all the different laws that go along with it. Before I took this class, I thought real estate agents simply printed out a pre-manufactured set of papers and then said, "Sign here and here and here and here..."

Even though I now see all the work it actually takes to make money in the real estate world, I find myself excited at the thought of doing it. For the first time since ministry I think I would actually enjoy getting up in the morning for work. That would be a good feeling.

Back to real estate school for a moment. I want to tell you about my friend Grace. Grace came to this country from South Korea four years ago. She came to study at a small bible college somewhere in Kansas (if I could remember the name of it, I would). She was telling me about her professor who had died on three seperate occasions. The first two times he went to hell but God called him back to earth. The last time he was on his way up to heaven but God told him not to come yet. I type all this nonchalantly for that is the way she explained it to me, as if we all have friends who have died and gone to hell and came back to tell us about it.

She then proceded to let me know that the most important thing we could do is go to heaven. That nothing else on this earth matters but that when we die we go to heaven.

Sadly, I know that she believes this with all her heart.

My good friend Bill and I have had many conversations on this topic. I'm pretty sure he's blogged about it a couple of times, but I'm too lazy to find it and link to it, so you'll just have to do a little homework on your own.

The problem is, while I disagree with Grace in principle, my life agrees with her in practice. I know I get too comfortable in my grace. I'm not sure that I understand fear and trembling anymore. Don't get me wrong, I love grace. Mainly because I need it more than most. I just think I get too used to having it there, knowing that I'll never be good enough, so most often I think, "why even try?"

Of course, I know the answer. I know it's because there is more to life than getting to heaven. I know that there is a journey that we are all on and that we are incomplete without each other. And that our journey is incomplete with out the Guide.

I don't have any eye opening final points. I can't think of a clever way to wrap this up that will make everyone go, "Ohhhh, what a clever way of stating that obvious fact." I just hope when I think of Grace, my soul will desire more than heaven.

NEWS FLASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

CHICAGO (AP) -- Chicago Bears football practice was delayed nearly two
hours today after a player reported finding an unknown white powdery
substance on the practice field. Head coach Lovie Smith immediately
suspended practice while police and and federal investigators were called to
investigate. After a complete analysis, FBI forensic experts determined
that the white substance unknown to the players was the goal line.
Practice resumed after special agents decided the team was unlikely to encounter the substance again....

Janice!!!!!

I'm pretty sure that Janice will be the cause of some future therapy sessions.

Superbowl!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Somebody pinch me.


What a game.

Um...Am I Going To Hell?

Okay, before you judge me, let me at least say this: If they didn't want us to watch and enjoy they wouldn't have made it, right?

My Son...

For those of you who don't have myspace, here is a look at the newest addition to our family...Diesel!

I Usually Don't Stay Up This Late...

Good thing they didn't send him to report on the AVN...

Nice Web, Mr. Crack Spider...

Found this little gem on Ebaumsworld. Warning: Adult language ahead.

A Tale Of Two Churches...

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all doing direct the other way - in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only."

Thus begins Charles Dickens classic "A Tale Of Two Cities." (Forgive me Mrs. Pugh, I have no idea if I'm supposed to italicize, bold, or underline the title of a book...two out of three ain't bad eh?) As many of you know I am a huge fan of the Church. Sometimes, I am also her worst critic. I can be the loudest cheerleader or the most skeptical cynic. I love her and hate the whore we've made her. I often feel like the beginning lines of this book encapsulates all that I feel about her, possibly never more than the events of the past two weekends.

Two Sundays ago was Christmas Eve. We woke up early and took my wife's parents to the Gospel Brunch at the House of Blues. This may sound like a strange place to have been on Christmas Eve, but my father-in-law had been wanting to go there for awhile so we thought it would be a nice Christmas gift. Plus we scored some free tickets so what can I say?

It was quite an experience. Any House of Blues that you go to is going to be decorated very cool. With the quilt tapestry for a stage curtain and the eclectic art on the walls, it was a groovy environment. The food was also quite good (though the coffee had been sitting out awhile and was a bit cold) and I must say the bacon was very tasty. Then the show started. Luckily, about a quarter of the congergation...er, crowd was of the ethnic persuasion so it soon became very lively and gospely. I was quite impressed with how forward the singers were in their proclimation of Jesus as Lord. I remember several times thinking...this is just like church. There's energy, food, and people singing to Jesus. Sure, you have to pay 50 duckets to get in, but hey, that's less then my average offering per week. This is kinda neat.

That same afternoon we went to a church service near our house. We've been to this church several times and now that we live on that side of town, we will probably start attending. Of course, being Christmas Eve, they were doing their big Christmas production. After a few songs of the obligatory Christmas worship, the bulk of the service consisted of a drama about an unwed mother trying to win a car when a fellow contestant befriends her and tells her about Jesus. There are some more details in there, but I think you get the idea. It was all very well done with first class production. I think it's safe to say that everyone who left that day felt good about who they were and that Jesus was a baby and then were soon distracted by the hustle and bustle of the night before Christmas.

This past weekend, we (the in-laws and my wife and I) traveled to Indianapolis to watch the mighty Colts defeat the hapless Dolphins. (Okay, so they put up a fight, but who cares, we won!) One of my best friends lives on the north side of Indy. He attends a church called Common Grounds. I know, I know, it sounds more like a coffee house than a church, but believe me, it's a church. You can tell too, from the moment you walk into the more than 100 year old cathedral type building to sliding across the wooden pews. It reminds you of the kind of church your grandparents went to when they were growing up. Right down to the beginning of service and a guy on a mic doing a congregational reading of Psalm 104. But then the worship leader got up and grabbed his guitar and we worshiped. Occasionally a second guy would sing with him, but mostly it was just a dude and guitar. I asked my friend if it's always like this, so un-produced. He said not always. He said it's generally different everytime. Even though it was only a dude and a guitar, somehow it seemed more than just a dork who knew five chords. It was somehow very authentic. Then, the music stopped and there was silence for about five minutes. At first I didn't know what was going on, but quickly I realized this was some type of unanounced meditation time. Soon people began getting out of their seats and moving towards the front. Up there they had the communion elements. After communion, the pastor got up and basically said the following:

"We're not going to have a sermon today. I've been praying this whole morning that God would move His Spirit umong us and I think if I try to preach the sermon I've prepared, we won't give Him the opportunity to do it. So I'm going to sit back down and ask the worship leader to lead us in some more songs. The front of the chapel is open to anyone who needs prayer. Or if you just need to get out of the seat to actualize and set in motion some of the feelings in your spirit, come. We are going to worship and we are going to let the Spirit move."

Now, it very well could be that this was a cop out for not writing a good sermon because of the Christmas holiday. Or maybe he had family in town and didn't even attempt one. But I think there was more. I think so because I felt so.

Maybe it'd be neat to say that by the end we were all dancing in the aisles and handling poisonous snakes. Maybe it'd be neat to say that someone started prophesizing and I knew God's specific call on my life. Or maybe it'd be neat to say that a lame person was healed or a deaf could now hear or even a mute could now speak. Maybe. But what I saw was about a third of the congregation go foward. After that, about another eighth or so came up to pray with them. I saw people hugging and laying their hands on one another. I saw tears and I saw smiles. But most of all, I saw Christ glorified by his people being devoted to prayer and to one another. I knew with those tears and hugs came stories of struggles and of battles and of defeats. But I also knew that with those battles were victories. I knew that daily there were people who call themselves Christians soldiering into the world and taking up the battle right where they were at. This was their refuling station. This was their respite. This was their peace.

It's hard to say that one church experience is "better" than another. I'm not sure anyone but God can know for sure that what happens at any given moment isn't exactly what is supposed to be happening. But I think I've seen a tale of two churches.

I don't have a problem with attrational ministry. I'm probably going to attend a church whose main focus is attrational ministry. I simply find it refreshing that there is a fellowship of people who aren't afraid to not be attrational. To be intentionally un-attrational. And maybe, just maybe, that is the most attracting element of all.

Yo, Adrianne...

I just got back from a guys night out. We had dinner at Outback and then went to see the new "Rocky Balboa" movie. I loved it. Of course the story was awful and the cinematography was worse, but hey, it's Rocky!

As I was driving home listening to a little "Eye of the Tiger" on the ol' Ipod, I was punching the air imagining myself in the ring. Yes, sometimes I am still eight years old. Okay, most of the time I am still eight years old. Just ask my wife! =)

In the process of my montage, I was reminded of an event that occured when I was younger. I was probably eight or nine years old at the time. We were all riding in the car when out of nowhere some jerk cuts my dad off. My dad lays on the horn behind the guy. Well, the guy slams on his brakes trying to get my dad to hit him from behind. After a couple of scary moments we end up beside this guy at a stop light. My mom is kind of freaking out at this moment and begging my dad just to forget it. Well, my dad turns and looks at this guy and sorta pumps his fist as if to say, "Bring it on buddy."

I remember afterwards my mom talking to us and telling us that my dad was sorry and that acting that way isn't very christianlike. She was probably right. But all I could remember was, "My dad is the toughest guy in the world!"

They say that the way you picture God has a lot to do with the way you view your Dad. My dad was (and is still) a very concrete guy. He knows what he believes and why and isn't afraid to tell you so. You always know where you stand with him. When we were kids and we got in trouble, we knew it was only a matter of time before we'd be in front of the ultimate judge and his leather judgements. Projecting this view on God can be scary when you're in trouble, but it's extremely comforting when you're scared.

In this Christmas season, it's easy only to think of Jesus as this little helpless baby that apparently didn't cry when he was born. But I kind of like to think God was a little pissed at the fact that his people were being so led astray that he just couldn't take it anymore and finally looked and satan and pumped his fists and said, "Bring it on buddy!"

Jesus was born and so we give presents...

I love Christmas time. I love the music and the decorations and the church services. I love the cold and the presents and the traveling. I love Christmas. If nothing else I love that there is no other reason to celebrate Christmas then Jesus' birth. I know the 'liberals' have turned into "Happy Holidays" and "Winter Break" for the kids, but December 25th is still recognized as Christmas and the reason for all the holiday madness.

Like I mentioned, I love the Christmas music. My favorite is a song called, "O Holy Night." It was written by a frenchman named Cappeau who was a winemaker. His priest asked him to write a Christmas poem to be read at their Christmas mass. He wrote the poem on a journey to Paris. In Paris, he met up with a friend of a friend named Adolphe Adam. About this time Adam was hot stuff because of an opera he had written the year before. Long story short, Cappeau put it to Adam's music and a masterpiece was finished. Later on, the song would be banned from some church's because of Cappeau's un-Christian views. Cappeau was anti-slavery and anti-social in-justice. Imagine that.

Anywho, I thought I would post the lyrics and a video of Eric Cartmand singing it. Just because I like it.

Enjoy and Merry Christmas!

O holy night, the stars are brightly shining;
It is the night of the dear Savior’s birth!
Long lay the world in sin and error pining,
Till He appeared and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope, the weary soul rejoices,
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.
Fall on your knees, O hear the angel voices!
O night divine, O night when Christ was born!
O night, O holy night, O night divine!

Led by the light of faith serenely beaming,
With glowing hearts by His cradle we stand.
So led by light of a star sweetly gleaming,
Here came the wise men from Orient land.
The King of kings lay thus in lowly manger,
In all our trials born to be our Friend!
He knows our need—to our weakness is no stranger.
Behold your King; before Him lowly bend!
Behold your King; before Him lowly bend!

Truly He taught us to love one another;
His law is love and His Gospel is peace.
Chains shall He break for the slave is our brother
And in His Name all oppression shall cease.
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,
Let all within us praise His holy Name!
Christ is the Lord! O praise His name forever!
His pow’r and glory evermore proclaim!
His pow’r and glory evermore proclaim!

I've Got A River Of Life...

Have you ever had moments where you were refreshed? Like the kind of refreshed after a good nights sleep, where you get to sleep until you just wake up. I'm having one of those days today. Well, technically, it started yesterday.

I was on my way home and I had just unpacked my ipod from it's hiding place inside my workout bag. Yeah, it had been awhile since I'd seen it. Anywho, I was flipping through the artists and came across a band I hadn't listened to in forty years. Smalltown Poets. I used to love those guys. Clickwheeled it to "Prophet, Priest and King." I would like to share a bit of this song...

"If I indeed am misperceived by some heads of state.
Hey, that's great
'Cause I talk to a prophet who tells me the truth
And I dine with a king at my home in Duluth
Better yet I'm in touch with a much needed friend
Who hears my confessions and pardons my sin

But my closet's a shrine to an old friend of mine
Here I talk all the time with a prophet, priest...
I pull out boxes and brooms and I gush like a groom
For it's here I commune with a prophet, priest and king"

For awhile I had forgotten about the gift of prayer. Not that I never prayed, but most of the time it was in passing or in traffic (Dear God, smite this bad driver and the piece of crap he is driving. Amen.). You know the kind, when you just kind of think of stuff and you say, "Yeah God, do that okay?" I used to think that this was okay, that as long as I 'thought' about God at some point during the day I was okay, or I had filled my quota for the day. But the more I thought about it, I thought of Jesus. Here is the Son of God, the most connected human ever to God, and even he had to go away and be by himself for hours and hours at a time to be right with his Father.

Wow.

But then I realized it made sense. Jesus isn't so concerned about the end product, or the result of our prayer like we are. We say, "Oh be with them cause they have cancer, amen." Now, whether he decides to heal them or not isn't really the point. He wants to struggle with us. Cry with us. Rejoice with us. And the only way for that to happen is for us to choose to spend time with him.

It's uncomfortable at first because he usually airs the dirty laundry first. Yeah, that sucks. But isn't always the best when you slide into bed on those nice clean sheets that are still warm from the dryer? Well, the only way to get there is the laundry room.

So today, feeling all refreshed I went on the internet in search of new adventures. Came across this site of a church that seems to be living my dream. First of all, I think they have the best name for a church website that I could ever dream of: http://www.churchinabrewery.com Check them out, especially the two blogs about rethinking church and rethinking life. Good stuff. God is good!

Beau Red...

Have you ever had nothing to do? I mean nothing. Not a time when you were putting something off. Not a time when you were waiting in anticipation for an event to occur and it was just the calm before the storm. Just nothing.

My job site has slowed down quite considerably. We only have one house left to build. There is three of us and I'm the boss, so whenever something actually needs to get done, I have my choice of lackeys to acomplish this task. Well, this all leads, of course, to my task list being quite short. Whenever life is overwhelming, you seem to long for these moments. But now that these moments last forever, I just wish they'd go away for a bit.

The worst thing is, when you have nothing to do, your brain actually stops working. I've gone on some other blogs and tried to leave witty and insightful comments, but most of the time they just make me look like an ass. Have you ever wanted to be the funny one in the room, but in the end, just end up looking like pauly shore? Yeah, that's me.

I wish there was some great spiritual or moral insightfulness I could leave. "Idle hands are the devil's...something or other. I could look it up and actually get the quote right, but that might actually give me something to do. And in keeping with the spirit of this post...

Just how...

Just how much am I willing to give?

Just how far am I willing to go?

Just how deep will you take me?

Is it so far, I'll have to let go?

Just how wide will your love be?

Just how long will it last?

Just how much abuse will you take?

Before justice comes to pass?

Just how much will I trust you?

Just how long down this road?

Just how far from your borders?

Just far must I go?

I don't think I can do this.

If you aren't a part of it.

I was hurt so much the first time.

I was hurt and it bled.

But now the bleeding is over.

And my wounds are almost healed.

And the scar is left to remind me.

It's in your blood I am sealed.

Just how can you love me this much?

Really? This is the mentality of my country?

A friend (who is a proud republican) recently sent me this email. I'm sure he was serious.

"A lady wrote the best letter in the Editorials in ages!! It explains things better than all the baloney you hear on TV.

Recently large demonstrations have taken place across the country protesting the fact that Congress is finally addressing the issue of illegal immigration. Certain people are angry that the US might protect its own borders, might make it harder to sneak into this country and, once here, to stay indefinitely. Let me see if I correctly understand the thinking behind these protests.

Let's say I break into your house. Let's say that when you discover me in your house, you insist that I leave. But I say, "I've made all the beds and washed the dishes and did the laundry and swept the floors; I've done all the things you don't like to do. I'm hardworking and honest (except for when I broke into your house).

According to the protesters, not only must you let me stay, you must add me to your family's insurance plan, educate my kids, and provide other benefits to me and to my family (my husband will do your yard work because he too is hard-working and honest, except for that breaking in part).

If you try to call the police or force me out, I will call my friends who will picket your house carrying signs that proclaim my right to be there.

It's only fair, after all, because you have a nicer house than I do, and I'm just trying to better myself. I'm hardworking and honest, um, except for well, you know.

And what a deal it is for me! I live in your house, contributing only a fraction of the cost of my keep, and there is nothing you can do about it without being accused of selfishness, prejudice and being an anti-housebreaker. Oh yeah, and I want you to learn my language so you can communicate with me.

Why can't people see how ridiculous this is?!

Only in America ....if you agree, pass it on (in English). Share it if you see the value of it as a good simile. If not blow it off along with your future Social Security funds.

Are you able to read this? If so, thank a Teacher. And since it's in English, thank a soldier."

Now, I'm as proud as I can be to be an American. I take my hat off during the national anthem. I even have red, white and blue underwear. But let me see if I can follow the logic of this...

You are comparing this country (into which I was born) and my house (that which I paid for). I don't own America. Just because I carry a Costco card doesn't make me the CEO. What happened to:

"Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Yes they came here illegally. But I doubt very seriously if anyone can look back down their family tree and find someone who made an "agreement" with the Navajo. I'm not saying we should send an open invitation to every soul in Mexico. But maybe instead of strengthening our borders we could find a way to strengthen the Mexican economy. For all the millions of dollars we spend on defense of the border, we could initiate some new business ideas and commerce for the "wretched refuse." We are all, afterall, citizens of only ONE kingdom...and that's something even republican's will agree with you on!