My Apologies in Advance

God's Grandeur on the Bay

2006-11-21T14:01:00.000-08:00

If you have read my wife's blog you know that our baby is stubbornly modest. So modest in fact that it has chosen not to reveal, just yet, whether or not it is male or female. At one point during the ultrasound we had a clear picture on the screen of two leg bones forming a perfect "X" over the part of the body that held the most interest for us. But, the little one is healthy and doing well. I will get back you when we have more information.

I was thinking today about the fact that I don't live in the most beautiful place on the planet. In fact, we are so far down on the list of beautiful places that it is probably better to flip it over and call it "The List of Least Beautiful Places" just so we have the privilege of being high up on a list at all.

Yes, I live near the ocean and right on a bay. And I am sure that that some speck of beauty did exist here at some point. But, most of it is now covered up by industry. Every time I drive over the Fred Hartman bridge I peer over the edge hoping to see deep blue water stretching out of sight, bordered on the shores nearest me by thick forests or rocky cliffs. Instead, I get a heaving mass of what looks like liquid dirt surrounded by a drab landscape dotted with refineries, giant metal footsteps of "progress" trudging through a muddy bog. Oh, how it stirs the soul!

But, really I'm not complaining. (I couldn't do that so close to Thanksgiving) A few days ago I would have been complaining but then a day like today comes. The temperature is perfect. The sky is clear. The smells of the factories are blowing away from me. It is a beautiful day. It is a day that reminded me of a poem I read years ago that did stir my spirit. So, please take these words of Gerard Manley Hopkins as my Thanksgiving gift to you. Take them and enjoy them, preferrably outdoors in whatever place it is where you sense the grandeur of God.

God's Grandeur

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs -
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

Should I blog? OK, sure. Why not?

2006-11-09T12:48:00.000-08:00

Though somewhat shameful, the title of this entry is the word-for-word inner dialogue that led to this post. I know, I know. If that was all it took why didn't I blog sooner? That's what you're asking, isn't it?

Well, let's just pretend that I have a really good excuse for not blogging. OK? For instance, I could have been on a missionary journey deep in the dark recesses of the jungles of the country of your choice. Or I could have been off climbing mountains in Nepal. Or I could have entered the Witness Protection Program after ratting out the bosses of my Mafia family only to be let out of the Program following the death of said bosses in a freak weekend barbecue "accident". You pick the excuse.

What I can tell you is that life has been hectic for the past however long its been since last we talked. Church work has required quite a bit from me lately. My truck was stolen and then returned, only slightly damamged and full of the enticing aroma of Marlboro's and Black N Mild's (see the wife's blog for the full account)
We moved from our apartment to a rent house. I spent another week in the woods with the senior adults from church chasing butterflies, working on jigsaw puzzles and discussing the theological importance of the Book of Jonah. We travelled a lot this summer. Nowhere exotic or really memorable (for that type of story please see Katie or Shanta's blogs), but the trips were fun all the same. For church I have planned events, written group studies, taught classes, visited hospitals, sang songs with kids, fixed sound equipment, ruffled feathers, smoothed feathers (not necessarily the ones I ruffled), and I loved every, most, some of every minute of it.

OK, and then there was the really big news. Hopefully, most of you know and aren't finding this out for the first time here. I waited until I thought most of you knew before I sprang this on the blog. So, here goes. Without further delay, here is the big news: Britney and K-Fed are getting divorced. Ok, just kidding.

We're pregnant!!! I know some of you are saying, "No, Jacquie's pregnant, you're expecting." But, those of you who are saying this have obviously not seen a sideview picture of me lately. Just as many loving spouses shave their heads for a wife who is undergoing chemotherapy, I have spent many long years developing a large belly as a sympathetic gesture for my pregnant wife. OK, no, not even close to anything like that.

Jokes aside, we are really excited about the new addition. We will hopefully find out soon whether this will be a female or male child. Feel free to cast your vote for the gender and even some name suggestions in the Comment section. However, I must warn you that we already have names picked out and have had them for a while. We will wait to reveal those later.

Please be praying for the baby, its beautiful mother, and its nervous-and-pumped-all-in-one-breath father. We would appreciate it. All three of us.

Sufficiently Punished

2006-06-07T07:48:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I hope you learned your lesson. Actually, I'm sorry for the long delay. I haven't really checked my blog in a while because frankly I didn't want to hear that sorry song. Needless to say Hasselhoff has haunted my dreams since I posted that so I feel safe saying that the punishment hurt me way worse than it hurt you. There is one good thing that came out of this whole experience though. I have a new happy dance that involves flailing my arms wildly and growling the words, "Ooga Chaka" repeatedly.

As a public service announcement I would like to warn all of you of an epidemic that seems to be sweeping the country right now. It is especially prevalent among people my age and I feel it my duty to warn you all so that you might take precautions to protect yourself. Can you guess what it is? That's right, it's pregnancy. Now, don't get excited I am not pregnant though I have been accused of it. Nor is my wife. So, Mom,you can breathe normally. Though we are not pregnant, everybody I know seems to be or have recently been. In fact, I was shocked the other day when I asked my four year old niece whether she liked the chicken nugget she was eating and she responded by saying, "I'm not eating it. The baby in my tummy is." (True story)
Now, obviously my niece is not pregnant but she has been infected by the disease we will call "baby fever".

I do want to say congratulations to all those who have just had babies or are currently pregnant. May God continue to bless you and your families. Now, I must go. The baby in my tummy is kicking. I think it's hungry.

Don't Say You Weren't Warned

2006-05-11T13:22:00.000-07:00

One of the main reasons that I blog is that I love to read the comments my friends make about the stupid stuff I put on here. In fact, I said at one point that if noone commented then I would quit blogging. Well, not many people are commenting so it looks like something must be done. However, it wouldn't be any fun for me to quit blogging (I do kinda like it). So, I have decided instead to punish you, my readers, for refusing to comment. So, here it is: David Hasselhoff singing "Hooked on a Feeling". Don't try to stop it. You can't stop the power of the Hasselhoff. Consider yourselves punished.

And don't think that there ain't more with this came from. I bet I could find the video to Snow's "Informer" or Chumbawumba's "Tubthumping" or a Hulk Hogan video or three if you are particularly negligent. Nobody wants that to happen. So, do what's right for your country and comment on this blog. (Wow, does that sound desperate or what?)

HOOKED ON THIS FEELING (David Hasselhoff)

Video Code provided by VideoCodeZone.Com

All Right Already

2006-05-05T10:37:00.000-07:00

The following is a true story:

I come back to my office yesterday after lunch and open my e-mail only to find that I am being served with an injunction from a large law firm in the Metroplex. Immediately, I think to myself, "What did I do this time?" Then as I continue reading I realize that I am being threatened with sanctions because my blog has been lacking in "substantive entertainment." In other words, due to my failure to blog last month I am being dragged, kicking and screaming, into the murky waters of the Harris County judicial system.

Question: How do you know when it has been too long since your last blog?
Answer: Your "friends" take legal action against you.

What happened to the good old days when my friends were poor, grossly immature, reality TV-addicted college students and not doctors, lawyers, and nationally recognized inner city ministers?

So, in my own defense I now offer you a look into the things that occupied my time in the month of April, thus explaining my reasons for not blogging recently.

1. I filled in for our preacher for three Sundays so that he could travel around Australia with his wife.
2. I spent a week in the Hill Country at the HEB camp with sixteen of our senior adults from church. I taught Bible classes during the day. I know this sounds like it should be fun. But, have you ever tried being on a diet while older ladies who love to cook tempt you with unbelievable meals? Also, have you ever tried to sleep with ten senior adults playing dominoes and Farkle until all hours of the morning in the room next door. Yet, with all that it was an incredible blessing to be there with them.
3. I attended my first local livestock show and witnessed an eight year old boy from our church small group win Grand Champion twice with two different pigs. His competition was local high school kids. It was unbelievable. I know this sounds like it should be fun. But, have you ever tried being on a diet while watching sixty pigs running all over the place shaking their pork chops and flaunting their ham?
4. I went to two "soccer" games that involved my niece and twenty other easily distracted four year olds. They don't keep score. They don't know the rules. And nobody cares. This is how all sports should be.
5. I decided that I wanted to see the Gulf Coast by hang glider. So, I fashioned one out of four brooms, some fishing line, and 3000 stale tortillas. The ill-fated trip lasted only two minutes and 13 seconds. Apparently, I underestimated the Gulf Coast's sea gull's appetite for stale tortillas.
6. I helped coordinate, with my wife, the Song Leading event at the Central Texas Leadership Training for Christ convention in downtown Houston on Easter weekend.
7. I coordinated our church's Fifth Sunday Fellowship last Sunday at a park here in Baytown.
8. I attended three Astros games. It's a tough task but someone has to do it. I have three more games scheduled in the next month.
9. I discovered that my office is infested with termites when I pulled a book off my shelf and found a hole eaten through the middle of it. It was impressive...for about thirty seconds and then it became gross, followed by unnerving, then annoying and ending with outright anger that God would create a animal whose main source of dietary fiber had to come from a book about children's ministry.
10. And, of course, I have eaten an inordinate amount of seafood (the beauty of living on the Coast). In fact, I even attended an "elder's meeting" in which we loaded into a van and cruised to a local eating establishment and discussed church business over 36 lbs. of huge crawfish, my first real crawfish feast. It was incredible and surprisingly low in calories.

So, here are ten of the things that kept me from blogging. They are mostly true. OK, some are outright lies. You decide which. There are many more that I could add to the list. Ladies and Gentlemen, of the jury. Here is your evidence. I am confident that you will exonerate me from all charges of laziness and forgive my lack of blog communication. Until next time.

Notes of Interest (at least they are interesting to me)

2006-03-27T05:54:00.000-08:00

1. First off, congratulations to the George Mason University men's basketball team for making it to the NCAA Final Four. Though they destroyed my bracket by beating North Carolina, I can't help but root for a team that nobody even gave a chance. I admire their tenacity, their skill, their heart but what I really admire is that their university has the same name as one of my favorite characters from seasons 1 and 2 of 24. Just like this upstart basketball team, nobody gave George Mason a second look. Yet, as grizzled, frumpy and irritable as he was, he went about his duties as the head of CTU with the same spirit that drove this team into greatness. I am so glad that the board of trustees of this school decided to take a chance and honor this fictional character by changing the name of their school. (As I hear it, they were previously called the Sam Beckett Quantum Leapers preceded by a stint as Cliff Huxtable University in the mid 80's)

If you were going to name a university after a fictional character, who would it be and what would the mascot be?

2. I have gotten addicted to looking at my site meter to see who has been visiting my blog. I also love seeing hos people get to my blog. Yesterday I found my favorite so far. Somebody in Washington found this site after doing a Yahoo search for "skinhead crucified wallpaper". I cannot explain the amount of pride that I have that my blog is what came up with those words.

3. On my new diet I have gotten into eating instant oatmeal for breakfast. Today I tried a new brand and it tasted exactly like ground up popcorn kernels. I think I'll go back to my Quaker Oats Lower Sugar Maple and Brown Sugar which is only 2 Weight Watcher points.

Have a great day.

Noah Webster in Blog World

2006-03-20T07:46:00.000-08:00

Here, as promised, is the best of the verification word definitions so far. I was so impressed with the creativity of all of you that I thought it would be appropriate to gather your creations in a collection. I have added some of my own comments in italics to clarify a few things, but overall these are the brain children of many of my good friends. Now, students, go out and use these words properly in your everyday conversation.

Definitions

mykdcskv - I'm embarrased to explain this to you Spruce since you clearly know already that it's the medical condition where one's head is oversized and basically "has its own weather system." It's Scottish in origin, but has etymological roots to Russian.
For those that do not know, I happen to have a huge noggin so this definition is mostly hilarious because it is an unveiled slam on me.

qemfluyw: what Chemistry graduate students, recently returned from Star Trek conferences, make in the labs to leave on the seats of the their least favorite professors.

yirssr - one of those redneck terms, I'm sure.

dtblzzlj--very few people know that this was the word that Snoop Dog was going to go with, but at the last minute, he decided on Fishizzle, both of which (as far as I know) have a broad range of definitions, from "cool" to "sick," etc.

kuqsr- An Irish insult for a stupid male. "You stupid kuqsr, stop shoplifting my potaotes!"

gnnpfunh-a private activity held on the day before NRA national meetings. Not to be confused with rflfunh, which takes place during dove season.
This is probably one of my favorite words so far.

mdjmquga- this is the word used in the Thai culture for a woman who buys and sells babies in return for turnips.

esoecpfr - someone who writes passive agressive comments about another person on their sister's blog! Nothing like a little sibling rivalry to get the blood flowing.

lwhoet - isn't that some kind of grain Matt and Erin put in their pancakes ?
This definition might actually be true. Matt and Erin are two good friends of mine who are always trying to get me to eat things like dried bamboo, sugar free sugar, various forms of "really good" organic "candy" and lwhoet.

oafspqbg - I think that is a derogatory old Celtic word meaning "large, dumb lazy man" also translated "dumbbunny"

zclob - an ancient term used to describe the drunken beating of an innocent Zebra.
I laugh every time I read this one. Remember that zclob is different than the drunken beating of a "guilty" Zebra.

Jzeuz - um yea..you're the preacher, so help me out here.
By far my favorite non-definition

hanllo - a Germanic greeting of friendship

egcsncyq - a linear charting which illustrates the degree to which your EKG and EEG tests are in sync.

eyeojnow - One little-known piece of African history is that the song "Old McDonald" was originally written in Zimbabwe by one Mr. Wamba Dia Wamba. After an initially disappointing debut in America, Mr. Wamba changed the lyrics "EYE-OJ-NOW" to "EI-EI-O" to hasten the songs acceptance into the repertoire of common American school-children. The rest, as we all know, is history.
I have no idea where Chad came up with this but it is pure genius

Acronyms - I didn't even think toask for acronyms but I received several funny ones.

MYVIKCCU - Man, you visually intimidate kids at church of christ universities...
This one is classic, because I know that I for one do visually intimidate kids at universities. Mainly because I have a large head.

dxywyko - Darn Xylophones Yearning With Yarn Knots Often

tbdrdbm - To Be Determined Right Down By Minneapolis

Words that have yet to be defined (help me out here)

ipzvr

wumpwy

Thanks for all your creativity. Keep em coming. If nobody else finds them entertaining, who cares, I find them hilarious.

Just to clarify the meanings of these words I have decided to write a short narrative using all of the words. Here goes.

Recently I went to the George R. Brown Convention Center in Houston to attend the annual meeting of the National Organization of Mykdcskv Sufferers. I was excited to be the featured speaker at this year's convention. However, as I entered the large convention center I realized that there were several groups meeting in the large meeting rooms. Not knowing where exactly to go I entered into the first room I saw. I quickly realized I was in the wrong place when I saw Charlton Heston standing at the front yelling, "Are you ready for some gnnpfunh?" With a raucous chorus of "yirssr"'s the predominately white, middle aged male crowd pulled out pistols and began firing them haphazardly at the 200 pictures of Michael Moore that adorned the walls.
I covered my head and ran for safety.

The next room I entered can only be described as a melting pot. I realized that it was an international convention when a large German man greeted me with a hearty "hanllo" and offerred me some cabbage. I was getting slightly hungry but not being a cabbage fan I opted for a steaming bowl of lwhoet which tasted how qemfluw smells and it promptly caused me to vomit all over a stack of pamphlets denouncing the practices of the Thai mdjmquga. As I stumbled away from the booth apologizing profusely I tripped over the leg of an elderly Irishman who cursed me at such a fast speed that I only caught the words oafspqbg and kuqsr.

At this point my heart was beating so fast that it probably wouldn't register on a egcsncyq but I was able to calm myself down by listening to an African children's chorus sing a precious version of Eyeojnow. The rest of the convention was fascinating. There was a booth that promised technology that could rid the Internet of spam and esoecpfr. That was really dtblzzlj. I also read some literature about an ancient religion in which people zclobbed in worship to Jzeuz, the god of the soil. Also, very dtblzzlj. To make a long story short I never got to my convention. I spent all my time studying the cultures and the vocabularies of other people. That's all for now.

Old Fogerty

2006-03-08T06:33:00.000-08:00

Sorry about the blog funk. I was having a difficult time thinking of blog-worthy items. In fact, I was convinced I would never blog again. Then, last night happened. My wife and I attended the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo for the second time this year. On this occasion we went with some of Jacquie's family to see John Fogerty, the former lead singer of Creedence Clearwater Revival. The whole experience is way too big to just blog about freestyle, so I have decided to do it in pieces. Here we go.

The Rodeo Atmosphere
If you have never been to a music concert attached to a rodeo then you can barely claim to be alive. It is life changing if for nothing else than the variety of smells that attach themselves to your body as you enter. Here we are in a giant half-full football arena watching men and women sacrifice their bodies and perhaps their souls to ride beasts who are dead set against being ridden all for a shinier way to hold up their pants. It is mesmerizing. That is until the vendors come by. Big rodeos are full of vendors selling all kinds of useless rodeo items at ridiculous prices. Think of it as SkyMall's country bumpkin cousin. My favorite vendor item is the multi colored spinny light thing that hurls tiny neon lights around at alarming speeds, or as I like to call it, the epileptic seizure machine. Add these lights to the sights and smells of livestock and you truly have a full sensory experience.

The Man and His Band
So after the rodeo events, which were awesome, and a long video montage, the lights come up to reveal John Fogerty, looking about as youthful and virile as Vitamin E, Metamucil, a handful of Viagra and a couple lines of cocaine can make you look. I'm not kidding this guy danced around that stage like a wild man for over an hour. Maybe "danced" isn't appropriate. He mostly jumped up and down like a Jack Russell Terrier....a very old arthritic mangy Jack Russell Terrier....perhaps with heartworms. He at least attempted to keep his youthful look by apparently dipping his hair in several vats of various shades of Just For Men.

What was also amazing was the fact that he changed guitars between each song, playing 14 guitars in all including one that was shaped like a baseball bat when he played Centerfield, which was awesome. Oh, and if you thought he was unintelligible with CCR, try listening to him with his dentures in. At one point he made Fortunate Son sound like Fortunna Duh. I know the lyrics to that song and I was still confused. Really, though the guy was an amazing performer. He put on a great high energy show and I really did love it.

He also had a really talented band with him. Of course their talent will not prevent me from pointing out their funnier sides. For instance, the guitar player who looked like the bizarre love child of old, fat Elvis and Bruce Springsteen who beat up Porter Waggoner and stole one of his shirts (that reference is for Ash T. when she checks this). Or the drummer who I believe was a member of the one-hit wonder Right Said Fred in the late 90's. You remember I'm Too Sexy don't you, well he no longer is too sexy. He has officially been demoted to just sexy enough.

The Dancing
Of course the crowd for this concert was a slight bit older than most but they were still far more into it than the crowd for George Strait who I saw last week. What you can count on at the rodeo is that by concert time the beer has been flowing freely for a while and everybody is going to want to dance. And my how we danced! Here are a few of my favorite dancers.

My seat neighbor: Next to me was a middle aged Hispanic woman who obviously did not know any of Fogerty's songs but was there to support her well intoxicated husband/boyfriend who knew every garbled word to every song. But, that didn't stop her from dancing, pulling out every major dance craze from the 20th century. I think I recognized the Running man, the mashed potatoe, and the hand jive, just to name a few. At one point when Fogerty was singing "I Hoid it Through the Grapevine" I think she even did the hand motions to Roll the Gospel Chariot Along.

The elderly lady: When I say elderly I mean mid-80's. This lady was so pumped to be at this concert that she couldn't help but let loose. Granted her limited mobility allowed her only to do what I'll call the Octogenarian's Knee Bounce but it was so great to see her enjoying herself to the fullest.

The drunk man and his puppet wife: Apparently the drunk man a few rows in front of us became frustrated with his wife's inability to keep up with his intoxicated swayings, so in order to synchronize them he grabbed the back of her belt and swayed her himself for two entire songs. In his other hand he held up an imaginary lighter and moved it slowly back and forth. He was by far the most annoying of the dancers.

Me: Okay, if I am going to give everyone else a hard time you know I have to do the same to myself. Even I couldn't help but get pulled in by the music. For a while I just did a seated version of the business man's bounce where I shrugged my shoulders and nodded my head somewhat to the rhythm. The trick is to do this and stare intently at the performer. That way you look like you are really into the music but you are so interested in the lyrics that you don't want to let yourself really start dancing. This covers up the fact that you can't dance without someone offering you medical assistance for fear the you are having a seizure. But, then I stood up and I had to really get into it. So I swayed somewhat in rhythm and began to clap high above my head. The trick here is not to just clap once on the beat but to add a double clap in every once in a while to make people think that you might actually understand tempo and beats.

Of course none of this mattered because noone was paying any attention to me. We were all just focused on having a good time and enjoying the music. It really was a great experience to spend time with family and watch a really talented musician entertain. It was a great concert based on the amount of giddy joy you received from hearing those great old songs done in fresh new ways. I recommend it highly.

Honoring our Obi Wan Kenobis

2006-02-24T07:33:00.000-08:00

I return from ACU's Lectureship with a full spirit, fed by the words of He who is the Bread of Life. This was my first Lectureship as a non-student and I found it to be incredible. The speakers were amazing, the classes were life-changing, but I found my greatest refreshment in the renewing of treasured relationships.

On Sunday night, I was very pleased to see an older couple who were friends of my grandparents years ago, Earl and Sylvia. As I stood speaking with Sylvia, her grandson, Brock, a youth minister and fellow ACU alum walked up and we immediately embraced each other in a hug. As we broke the hug Sylvia said, "It is so special to see my grandchild and Elaine's grandchild hugging on each other." I don't think she could have know how emotional it was for me to hear her say that. In that moment it hit me that I miss my grandmother terribly. Yet, it was so great to feel connected with her for just the briefest moment by speaking to someone else who knew and loved her.

As the week drew on I continued to reflect on all those people like my grandmother whose love and support have been so formative for me in my life. I have been blessed with so many wonderful mentoring relationships, relationships that have called me to be a better person. I have two incredible parents who have taught me so much. I have friends that I would have never dared to ask for for fear that I was asking too much. I have an unbelievably patient and supportive wife. I thank God for each of them. I also thank God for my time in Abilene where I had a chance to see many of my mentors again.

I was amazed at the number of people in Abliene that I saw who I still adore for their influence in my life. Saturday, we spent a lot of time with the Wallaces so that we could see Matt and Nikki. However, while I was there I couldn't help but thinking of all the things that that wonderful family has done for meand Jacquie It was so great to reconnect with all of them.

Sunday we spent time with our old small group, a multi-generational group that was nothing short of miraculous in our lives. It was so good to see Floyd and Kay and Terry and Brenda and Scott and Joy and Dan and Laura and Sara. These people changed our lives. Through the rest of the week I saw so many people who served me as mentors, whether they knew it or not. David Wallace, Mark Hamilton, David Wray, Jordan Hubbard, Floyd, Terry, Matt W., Chris Blair, Derran and so many others are just a few of the men who taught me what it is to be a better man, husband, father, teacher, minister, and especially a better follower of Christ. Thank you all for who you are and what you have done.

I return thinking about all the men and women who make us who we are. So, today on this blog you can have your chance to honor your mentors. List them, Tell about them, Thank God for them, whatever. It is your choice.

Oh, and keep those word verification definitions coming. I promise to put an entry on here compiling the best so far. I have been amazed at how creative they have been.

Listen Up, Dumb Bunny Blog Readers

2006-02-14T12:44:00.000-08:00

Today has been eventful. I took a half day off of work and accompanied my wife's second grade class to a local Houston theater production of Junie B. Jones and a Little Monkey Business. That's right, my wife somehow suckered me into being a chaperone for a bunch of second graders. Translated, this means that I get to be the guy who carries the cooler, collects all of the trash after lunch, and makes sure the boys don't destroy either the facilities or each other's clothes as they use the restroom.

I realize that that last phrase seems a little bit foul, but it's the truth. Also, that description isn't near as foul as the smell of the school bus we rode in (how you like that for a segue). I'm not kidding, I had forgotten how bad those things stink. We had to keep the windows up due to the frigid 75 degree temperatures in Houston, so various smells had time to ferment. At one point, I was using my mastery of zen to transport my mind to another place that would smell better. I chose the apartment gym on the day it smelled like puke paint. It was a vast improvement. Actually, it has been several hours and my clothes still smell like I swam through a pool of milk.

The play itself was quite an adventure. For you unlucky souls who are not hip to all the new children's literature, Junie B. Jones is the reigning queen of elementary angst (think, Beezus and Ramona Quimby for a new generation). Junie is a kindergartner who dresses like her mother went on a shopping spree in a Units store back in the late eighties and saved the clothes till now. She is an only child who receives the frightening news that her Mom is going to have a B-A-B-Y, a word that she cannot bring herself to say but only spell. Oh, and this kid also has a real attitude problem. She calls her friends dumbbunnies, she always has a sarcastic comeback for any remark, and she has no qualms about saying anything to anybody. In other words, she is everything I wish I can be. (Actually, she is everything that I imagine Jenn G. was when she was a kid)

Despite all of her questionable qualities she really is a lovable character, especially as played by the thirty-five year old actress who donned the costume for an attempt at reliving her childhood. I'm not kidding, the girl had to be well into her thirties. But, she was great. I laughed out loud at a lot of her hijinks. The rest of the cast was pretty good too for being a bunch of cast-offs from the other more serious theaters in Houston. One guy in particular did a great job. He ad-libbed quite a bit and he was truly funny as Junie's arch nemesis at school as well as her loving grandfather. In fact, it got kind of weird when several of the mothers who were also chaperones started to develop a discernible crush on the guy and ran down to take his picture after the show.

The funniest part of the whole thing was at the end when the cast decided it would be a good idea to let the second graders ask questions about acting. I'm not kidding. We've got kids who have been sitting relatively still for an hour and a half trying to bust out of their seats, and these actors want to stage an episode of Inside the Actor's Studio right there in the theater. It actually was kind of funny to watch these people who obviously had no history with children try to explain what a set designer was or how one of the actors gave the appearance of being bald (by far the worst bald cap I have ever seen in my life). My favorite question came from one of Jacquie's students, "Is she the real Junie B. Jones?" By the look in the eye of the girl fielding the questions you would have thought he had asked her to explain sex. She froze and then, in the time-honored tradition of question dodging, she said, "What do you think?" Everybody yelled, "No!!!" She countered with, "Why do you think she is not the real Junie B.?" At that point I stood up from the back and yelled, "because she's 35, you dumbbunny!!!" Okay, no I didn't do that but I should have.

Over all it was a great experience. I'm not sure that I learned any real moral from the play or anything but I had a good time with the kids (later they dared me to race them up a giant hill at a park we stopped at). Trust me, you have not lived until you have chaperoned a school event.
Now, I have to go home and wash my clothes.

Quick Hits

2006-02-08T06:43:00.000-08:00

I do not have much time so here are some quick items.

Hit #1: If you would like to read one of the nastiest stories I have heard in a long time, click on Jenn G in my links and read her most recent blog entry.

Hit #2: When Jacquie and I worked out on Monday we once again ran into Business Woman (from previous exercise post). This time she was dressed more appropriately for the gym, sweat pants and a t-shirt. However, she was wearing hair curlers on only one half of her head. She just gets weirder and weirder. She tried to talk to us again and I couldn't understand her. I think she might speak some kind of business woman language that dumb old ministers like me can't understand. I just nodded... and left the room as quickly as possible.

Hit #3: David, my boss, sent me a newspaper notice from his hometown in Duncan, OK. Apparently, a man in the town reported a burglary in his home raight after Christmas. When asked to fill out a list of the items that were stolen, the list consisted of these three items:

A bottle of laundry detergent
A garden rake
FIVE POTATOS!!!

This is a true story.

Hit #4: I would like to ask a favor from you. When you comment on my blog I would love to know what verification word you are given to type. Also, if you are brave enough, try to assign some definition to the word. If you don't want to define it just post it. The rest of us will come up with something. I think this will help us all expand our fictional vocabulary together.

Darn You, Vanilla Ice

2006-02-06T05:26:00.001-08:00

Hang on tight this is going to be random.

In recent posts on several blogs I have seen some really interesting conversations about our lack of compassion and understanding when it comes to those who's sexuality is different from us. Frankly, I am glad that this discussion has started. If Brokeback Mountain does nothing else, it at least caused us to think and for that I am thankful. In the very near future, we as Christians are going to have to make some hard decisions about how we handle issues like homosexuality. I pray that we can make these choices with the love and compassion of Jesus Christ as our guiding principle. But, I really didn't want to blog about all that today.

Actually, what this whole conversation has gotten me to think about is the ways in which we choose to ignore certain voices in our culture simply because we do not relate to them or are not interested in what they have to say. Take a look around at how many groups and organizations there are out there in which people are trying to find a place where they can be accepted, voice their thoughts and concerns, or defend a cause that is important to them. We have Victim's rights groups, animal rights groups, grief support groups, consumer rights groups, the society for the preservation of the California avocado, and that organization so near and dear to anyone who has spent time in Abilene, Texas - The Texas Boll Weevil Eradication Association. And these are just a few. I have a friend that recently had dealings with the African-American Breast Feeding Coalition, a cause that I scoffed at until I heard the very real concerns that they have about the health and well-being of African American mothers and children. These are all voices that are making themselves known in our culture.

However, these voices don't just represent particular causes or concerns. They represent the hearts and minds of the people we live around, the people that we are called to love with the love of Christ. But, if we are ever going to love them in a real way, we have to be able to stop and listen to the things that their hearts have to say. We can never love them if we never take the time to get to know them. And we can never get to know them if we continue to ignore or demonize them. This kind of love also calls us to be willing to share our lives with other people. We have to be vulnerable in our love. That is what I adore about Matt and Nikki Wallace (Insert your own shameless plug for Dry Bones here) and their work in Denver. They are willing to live life side-by-side with people whose voices we didn't even know existed until Matt and Nikki were brave enough to sound them in our ears. Now, none of us can stop thinking about or loving those kids.

But, let me be confessional here. I think what I really liked about Matt and Nikki's ministry was that it was Matt and Nikki that were doing it and that they were far away in Denver. I could live vicariously through them and not get my hands dirty. I could listen to the voices through Matt and Nikki but I didn't have to do much about it. Now, please don't get me wrong. I am not saying everybody should pack up and move to Denver. I am not even saying that you should go find homeless teens in your city. All I am saying is that there are plenty of voices that you are going to ignore today as you go about your life. They are all around you. They are all around me. I'll give you an example. As a ministry student I found it very easy to deride all those members of the Church of Christ who held more conservative beliefs than I did. In some ways we almost seemed to be practicing two different religions. I was astounded at their judgmentalism, their aloofness, their inability to change. I began to ignore their voices because it depressed me to hear them. I disagreed with them so heavily and I could not get over that.

In my job now I am realizing that I hated their voices because I thought they represented a type of Christianity that I could not endorse. However, as I work in a church where I am by far the most "liberal" component I understand that I was wrong. Their voices represent the hearts and minds of people who are trying desperatley to follow God and Christ in the best way they know how. And slowly but surely, the Gulf Coast community that once gave ear to their voices is beginning to turn on them. At one time their voices meant something because the rest of the area was predominantly Christian. But, as our culture changes their voices are getting lost in the fray. The fear, confusion, and disappointment that I see in the lives of these faithful Christians as this shift occurs has humbled me in a serious way. I, as a Christian minister, am called to live along side them and be a person who is willing to hear their voices and get to know their hearts.

Do I agree with all of their religious "doctrines"? No. Will I ever? No. But, can I continue to demonize them or make them out to be ignorant solely because we read the Bible in a different way? No way. I have to be willing to practice what I preach. I have to be willing to listen to them as they open up their lives to me and I have to be vulnerable enough to open up my life to them. I have to be willing to love them as Christ loves them. Yes, that all takes wisdom and patience that only comes from God, but it is well worth the effort if it means that I am getting to live out the crucified life of Christ.

That is the real gift of the gospel. It's not just that we are forgiven or that we get to go to heaven. It's that we get to live like Christ lived. Right here. Right now. We get to love those around us with a love that is incomprehensible. We get to listen to the voices of this world with compassion and mercy. I pray that you hear a voice today that you have neglected in the past.

P.S. You want to know what really got me thinking about all of this? This weekend I listened to one of my favorite rock songs of all time, "Under Pressure". If you don't know the song you at least know the bass line because years after it was released Vanilla Ice stole that bass line and used it as the intro for "Ice, Ice, Baby". I have not forgiven him.
The original was done by David Bowie and Queen. As I listened this time I made a point to hear the lyrics. As I did I realized that this song contains one of the best definitions of love that I have heard in any song before. Here is a sample:

Why can't we give love that one more chance?
Why can't we give love give love give love?
Give love give love give love give love give love give love?
Cause love's such an old fashioned word
And love dares you to care
For the people on the edge of the night
And love dares you to change our way
Of caring about ourselves
This is our last dance
This is our last dance
This is ourselves under pressure

Strange, isn't it that I would learn something about love from David Bowie, an androgynous glam rocker, and Freddie Mercury, a flamboyant rock star and drug addict that later died of AIDS. With everything I would probably disagree with them about, they at least had a pretty good idea of what real love could potentially be.

Working Out in the Twilight Zone

2006-01-24T11:37:00.000-08:00

After repeated requests for more stories about me torturing myself in the gym I have decided to humor you all. (As one friend so gently phrased it, "It's just funny to imagine you working out." OK, that didn't happen but if I had more conversations with people like Jenn G., Shanta, Matt W., or Jessica G. it probably would have. Tell me I'm wrong about that, Jenn.)

Jacquie and I did have one pretty interesting workout experience recently that bears recounting. To really do it justice I would need Rod Serling, host of the Twilight Zone, to give a short monologue about an unsuspecting couple that stepped through the door of their local gym to find themselves in a dimension beyond space and time in which nothing is as you expect it to be. It really was bizarre.

First, we got to the gym and found the door propped open by one of the stationary bikes which is odd. It was then that we realized that the gym was emanating some kind of strange heat. Usually, the fans are blowing full blast and the air conditioning is cranked very high. This time it felt like I was entering a sauna. I didn't know if I could work out in a furnace or not. I had already worked up a pretty good sweat walking from the apartment to the clubhouse. But, I thought I would give it a try. That was when I noticed that the gym was filled with the distinct smell of vomit. I'm not kidding. It smelled like someone had walked around the gym strategically letting loose with regurgitated food. It was sick. Soon, we realized what had actually happened. The maintenance men had painted the walls. Apparently, they went to Home Depot and found some bizarre vomit scented paint and decided that it would be appropriate for those who are exercising and dieting to work out with that smell in their nostrils. You know, as motivation not to go and stuff yourself with a huge dinner right after you leave.

The smell wasn't the only strange thing though. There was one other guy in the gym who was working with the dumbbells while admiring himself in the mirror. This was not weird. I do that all the time. What was strange was that his hair was perfectly sculpted with hair gel, he was wearing a sleeveless concert T-shirt, nice jeans, and a brand new pair of heavy duty work boots. Honestly, the guy looked like he was just passing by the gym on his way to some "black-tie" Neo-Nazi Skinhead soiree and decided his biceps could use a few curls. It was strange but I let it go. It could be somewhat explained.

So, I jumped on the recumbent bike and was doing my usual ride. Things were going well. I was huffing and puffing pretty good and I was feeling the pain. Then, out of nowhere, a thin middle-aged woman wearing a perfectly nice business outfit breezed through the open door, cell phone to ear, in full conversation with an unknown friend and jumped on the bike that was facing mine. Here, she is having a chat with someone that she kept having to remind that she loved, cranking on the pedals fast enough to generate a large air flow in my direction. I was thankful for that. I was at the if-I-go-another-minute-I-might-pass-out stage of my ride and needed some cooling off.

However, she was also crippling my will. She wasn't breathing hard at all. When I work out I breathe so hard I can't even talk to myself silently in my head much less with a friend on the phone. And her attire wasn't making it easier. She's in a pant suit and high heels not perspirating at all while I'm in athletic shorts and a v-neck undershirt that is small enough to show part of my midsection with a neck-to-navel sweat stain that's only getting bigger. That and she was pedaling just as fast as I was. It actually became a bit of a contest. We made eye contact a few times and each time we did we both began to pedal faster. At one point I thought my left leg had fallen off. It felt like it. I realized that she was actually trying to show me up. Of course, she did.

So, I quit my ride and ran over to the weight machine to lift a little before I was totally desire-less. As I did, two boys walked in wearing full skater garb and carrying boards. They layed their boards down and walked to two different machines and started working out, one on the elliptical trainer, the other on a treadmill. So, here we are, our happy little family: a skinhead, a business woman, two skaters, and Jacquie and me. Just a normal day at the gym.

Soon, it became apparent that the skaters were not there to work off those extra pounds they had accrued from school cafeteria pizza. They were just messing around. At one point, one boy had the elliptical machine going so fast I couldn't see his feet. He looked like a cartoon character running in a cloud of dust. Then, the edge of his baggy jean shorts leg got caught under his foot and he actually fell off the machine. I thought he was hurt. Business woman though he was an idiot. She stormed out of the gym only to return a few minutes later with the manager who promptly kicked my new friends out. I think its good when we crack down on those under age exercisers.

In a huff of self-righteousness, business woman plopped herself onto a bench right beside me and started doing sit-ups. But, her frustration with the boys was so great that she had to tell somebody about it. That somebody was me. She turned to me with this real serious look and started pouring out her heart. I wish I could tell you what she said but I couldn't understand her. I couldn't hear her over the sound of my own breathing or over the sound of my heart beat pounding in my ears. So, I just nodded my head and when I thought she was finished I said, "Yeah, that's bad." I have no idea what I meant by that. It was just that her facial expression said that she was telling me something bad so I decided to agree with her face. It must have been the right thing because she nodded thoughtfully and went back to doing her sit-ups.

After all that excitement, Jacquie and I headed back to the apartment to stuff ourselves with a huge meal and to try to get the smell of vomit out of our clothes.

And Away We Go...Again

2006-01-14T13:54:00.000-08:00

Like a phoenix from the ashes
Like Lazarus from his would-be tomb
Like the '05 Houston Astros from 15 games below .500
Like Rocky Balboa from the certainty of defeat
Like Ben Affleck's love life from the heartbreak of Bennifer I and Gigli
Like John Travolta's career from the bowels of Look Who's Talking

Ok, sorry, now I'm just starting to sound arrogant
So, here it is:

My blog is back.

Somehow, in the process of adding a site meter to the sidebar my beautiful wife "accidentally" erased my blog. We are not quite sure what happened, but after much hard work she was finally able to resuscitate the site. So, here it is. I know that you have all been waiting anxiously. I know that you weren't sure if you were going to make it without these entries. Well, put down the Prozac folks because we're back in business!

Actually, if I'm honest I was kind of relieved when it went down for a little while. Even though I created this blog and have spent a good deal of time nurturing it, I was growing somewhat bored and had run out of ideas of what to do with it. So, I was glad for the break. (Sidenote: The last two sentences pretty much encapsulate all the reasons that I will probably be a terrible father...just kidding)

So, now with a new blog, perhaps I will be able to think of plenty of stuff to write about. In fact, in my next blog I will share with you one of my exciting exercising experiences from my short blog hiatus. It was interesting to say the least. Until then, I hope that you all have a great day or week or month or however long it takes for me to write another entry.

Love,
SPRUCE

Neice #2

2006-01-14T13:36:00.000-08:00

12-29-05
To quote Sheriff Roscoe P. Coltrain from the Dukes of Hazzard: "Good news, Good news." Yesterday, in the middle of the afternoon, 28 years and 4 days after the birth of yours truly, a new blessing was added to the world: my niece, Kylee Jeanne. Yes, that's right, my little sister, Andrea and her husband Brannon had their first child yesterday and she is beautiful. At least, she looks beautiful in the pictures. I have been sick all this week and thought it would be better if I didn't show up just to pass along a much undesired infection. I did, however, send my faithful emissary, Jacquie, who supplied me with a ton of pictures and a phone call when she entered the room to see the baby for the first time. I actually got to speak to my sister as she held her child and I have to admit I was so proud of her. Her voice was so full of excitement and energy. I know that Andrea is going to be a great mom and Brannon will be a great dad. Also, there is no doubt that I will be an incredible uncle. I've had good practice with my other niece. All that and she is going to have an exceptional aunt...my sister Becky. I'm just kidding. I mean, Becky will be a great aunt, but really, Jacquie is already an incredible aunt to our niece and I know that Kylee is going to love her just as much as Mallory does. I hope to see Kylee in the next few days. Please be praying for continued good health for both my niece and my sister. Thanks.

Pictoral Dictionaries

2006-01-14T13:29:00.001-08:00

12-16-05
I must warn you. If you read this you will find that my mind works in some really odd ways. As an example: Last night my wife and I were talking to some friends, Jamie and Doug, about another family that has a new baby. In the conversation Doug made the comment, "I haven't seen their new baby." Immediately, I began to think about how weird that was. I started wondering, "How old does a child have to be for us to start saying 'I haven't met their child'"? When do we stop seeing them as zoo animals or museuam exhibits and begin to refer to them as human beings. When I accidentally verbalized the question to my wife, she gave me that look that says, "What are you talking about?" Well, I had a similar incident this morning as I worked on a sermon for Sunday. As a preacher and teacher I deal mostly in words and concepts. I spend a lot of time thinking about my use of language and how it can be theologically formative and/or destructive for other people in the church. One of the things that I am often reminded of is that we have a slew of words in the church that are our words alone. They may be commonly used but our specific Christian interpretation of them often makes them unrecognizable to outsiders. I would include words like love, justification, sanctification, holy, worship, baptism, faith, hope, joy, and many others on this list. These have become part of our own specific language. The problem I find is that even our church members have a hard time defining many of the words we use. Try asking a group of Christians what the word "holy" means and see how many different answers you get. We often allow these words to become ambiguous concepts with all kinds of interpretations. I'm not saying that that is totally bad. For instance, I wouldn't want to pigeon-hole the definition of love. However, I also don't want to over-define these words so that they become impotent, lacking all their power. I am writing a sermon about the theme of reconiliation right now and I am having a hard time explaining exactly what that word means. So, I asked myself the question, "Why do we always try to define a word or a concept with other words or concepts?" Doesn't it seem somewhat strange to think that I could explain to you what one word means by using hundreds of other words? Sometimes I think we just muddy the water and making understanding an unattainable goal. So, here is my stupid question of the day. Wouldn't it be more meaningful to define words through actions or pictures? At least, some of the time. Instead of writing six pages on how to define reconciliation wouldn't it be more powerful to live it out? Really, I think Jesus did that on occasion. He could preach all day on service but I think the disciples learned more about the word when Jesus strapped on a towel and started scrubbing feet. He could tell you all you want to know about forgiveness and thankfulness but rather he just let a woman bathe his feet in perfume. He could tell you about innocence and trust but, instead he just p0inted at a group of kids clamoring at his feet and said, "Be like them." I think in some ways we are called to be walking, talking pictoral dictionaries. It is in our lives that people will understand the definition of love, holiness, patience, forgiveness, sacrifice, selflessness, and reconciliation. It is through our actions that we clear up the muddiness of our wordy attempts at defining biblical concepts. Now, believe me, I'm not trying to think my way out of a job. I still believe in the power of words, of preaching, of teaching, of prayer. But, I think we can become too logical, too focused on objective definitions and never truly discover what it means to be Christians, what it means to be humans created in the image of God.

I Wish I Had Been There

2006-01-14T13:28:00.001-08:00

12-13-05
It has been a busy week here in Baytown and it seems only to be getting busier. My preacher/elder/boss/buddy/teaching partner/fellow blog enthusiast/Obi Wan Kenobi, David, decided to bug out of Baytown for a little vacation time so I am left with some extra duties this week. I hope the building is standing when he gets back. I make no promises. So, being forced to make this blog brief, I decided to post my vote for "News Story of 2005". I realize that this has been a year full of controversy, unparalleled disaster, pleasant surprises (My Astros made it to the World Series), and life-changing tragedy (the Nick/Jessica split still has me destroyed). However, there was one picture that caught my eye and never let go. So, without further ado. Here is my News Story of 2005:
Unfortunately for a 13-foot (4-meter) Burmese python in Florida's Everglades National Park, eating the enemy seems to have caused the voracious reptile to bust a gut—literally. Wildlife researchers with the South Florida Natural Resources Center found the dead python last week after it apparently tried to digest a 6-foot-long (2-meter-long) American alligator. The mostly intact dead gator was found sticking out of a hole in the midsection of the python, and wads of gator skin were found in the snake's gastrointestinal tract. The gruesome discovery suggests that the python's feisty last meal might have been too much for it to handle. Clashes between alligators and pythons have been on the rise in the Everglades for the past 20 years. Unwanted pet snakes dumped in the swamp have thrived, and the Asian reptile is now a major competitor in the alligator's native ecosystem. (See "Huge, Freed Pet Pythons Invade Florida Everglades.") "Clearly if [pythons] can kill an alligator, they can kill other species," Frank Mazzotti, a University of Florida wildlife professor, told the Associated Press. "There had been some hope that alligators can control Burmese pythons. … This [event] indicates to me it's going to be an even draw."
So, I know all of you will want to make this picture your wallpaper. Go right ahead. I mean, come on, is there really any other choice for news story of the year. I know that some of you might be thinking, "Oh, he made that up and Photo Shopped the picture." To you I say thank you for the confidence but I can't even figure out how to blur out my unsightly double chin and believe me I've tried. The other way you can know that I did not create this picture is that I would not have had a dead alligator sticking out of the python. It would have been either Toby Keith or Paris Hilton...or maybe both.
Have a great day and please don't release your Burmese Pythons into the wild. The alligators would appreciate it.
Feel free to offer your favorite bizarre news story of the year, decade, or century.

Happy Little Trees

2006-01-14T13:28:00.000-08:00

12-6-05
One of my duties here at Lakewood is to write a weekly bulletin article every Monday. On most Mondays my brain is fried from Sunday so it is hard to come up with good articles every week. But, yesterday I decided to write about one of the strangest memories I have from childhood, my fascination with Bob Ross and The Joy of Painting. I don't know why the show interested me. It was slow and not exciting but it was amazing. He made me feel like I c ould paint beautiful landscapes. As misguided as I now realize that to be it did give me a sense of empowerment. That, and the guy's fro was just exquisite. Tell me you weren't slightly jealous of his hair abilities. The man was a force. Bob also had a way with words. In just a phrase he could make your world feel special. Take for instance these two gems I found. "God was having a good day when He made Alaska" and "Everybody needs a friend" Now, tell me you didn't smile when you read those. You can't help but smile when a guy can speak the truth with so few words. So, feeling nostalgic, I honor Bob Ross, the afro-wearing wisdom-whispering happy tree-painting guru of the PBS art world (small as that world may be). He may be gone but he is not forgotten. So, today on my blog is a chance for you to honor your favorite childhood pop culture hero. Who were you fascinated by when you were a kid?

Should've Seen It Coming

2006-01-14T13:25:00.001-08:00

12-1-05
I realize that I have not blogged since thanksgiving so I decided to relate today one of the greater stories that came out of my holiday trip to Oklahoma City. I guess I'll start by saying that I return from my trip with a renewed sense of determination to exercise and lose weight but not for the reasons that you may think. The truth is I ate very reasonably or as reasonably as can be expected from a big fella faced with a large bowl of mashed potatos, buttermilk pie, and green bean casserole. I was sure to watch my portions and, in the end I was proud of myself. No, my new zeal for working out stemmed from one brief comment and one tiny hand motion from an unexpected source. On Wednesday, I travelled with my family from Oklahoma City to middle of nowhere East Texas to spend Thanksgiving Day with my grandparents. On the way there I asked my dad if he wanted to place bets on how long it would take my grandmother to make some crack about my weight. My grandmother is a sweet lady. She is also consistent...consistently worried about the size of my tummy. Over the years any weight I have gained has settled nicely in my midsection giving me a very substantial beer gut (sans the beer). It's hard to miss and my grandmother is sure to remind me of that whenever I see her. I have begun to track the amount of time it takes from the moment she sees me until the first comment is made. Her record is well under three seconds. So, this year I decided to include my dad in on the game. We briefly discussed how long it would take. What I didn't know then was that the record would indeed be broken this year just not by my grandmother. As we entered the house on Wednesday evening I quickly scanned the living room and failed to find my grandmother. I continued on glancing briefly down the hallway, suspecting that she may be lurking there armed with a develish grin and some new cutting remark. She was nowhere to be seen. As I began to turn my head a sudden realization came to me. I had been tricked. My grandmother's absence from the main room was simply a diversion. The real threat was waiting on my blind side. The plan had worked flawlessly. This year the joke about my weight would not come from my grandmother. No, this year the culprit would be my beloved grandfather. He came from my right. By the time I realized it it was too late to retreat. He had me. He was just finishing giving my sister a hug and he cut around her straight toward me. It was too much for me to handle. The words were bad enough. He said with a huge smile, "Looks like you got some good preacher material there." What made it worse was that as he said it he slowly reached out his hand and did the unthinkable: He patted my belly. Please explain that to me!!!!! It was as if he didn't want me to miss that the remark was aimed at stomach. No problem there. I knew what he was talking about. Why in the world would anyone find it necessary to pat a fat guy's belly? I don't know, maybe he thought his great grandchild was going to communicate to him...(wait for it)...from the depths of my womb!!!!!!!! I'm not pregnant. I'm not a buddha statue at a Chinese restaurant. In what world would it be appropriate for you to touch, in any way, my gut? None that I could think of. The action was so shocking that it took me a while to think back to the words he had said. When I did I was equally perplexed. "Looks like you got some good preacher material there." WHAT??????????!!!!!!!!!!!!! What does that mean? Are all preachers fat? Am I supposed to use my size as an illustration for a sermon? What? Now, it is true that I have eaten one too many unidentifiable but tasty casseroles at pot luck suppers. I have been fed well as a minister. But, really, "looks like you got some good preacher material there"? Is that necessary? So, the moral of the story is: if you know a guy with a big belly, don't pat it. Please, don't pat it. Blogger's Note: Once again, a disclaimer. I'm just having a little fun here. My grandparents are great people and I love them dearly. I wasn't offended by their comments at all. In fact, the whole incident truly was humorous, I just thought I would tell it in a way that emphasized how funny it really was. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Maybe some day I will write a blog that is more serious...but probably not.

Christmas Favs

2006-01-14T13:25:00.000-08:00

12-5-05
Though my wonderful wife stubbornly refuses to start a blog she has, in a delirious state of Yuletide euphoria, offered to allow me to post a list of her favorite things about the Christmas season. As you will see, I have married a Christmas fanatic. She loves everything about it. It was a struggle to get her to narrow it down to 23. Perhaps later I will write a list of my favorite things about this season. It will not be as long. Oh, by the by, I have made a few brief comments in italics. Top Twenty Three Reasons Jacquie Loves the Holiday Season

23. Green and red peanut M&M’s
22. 24-7 Christmas music on Sunny 99.1 Here it starts the day after Thanksgiving!!!
21. Christmas Socks
20. Malls, every store imaginable decorated
19. 24 hour marathon of “A Christmas Story” on Christmas Eve Fra-gee-lay
18. Mint Sonic Blasts from Sonic in the Christmas cup
17. Sending out Christmas Cards
16. Getting Christmas Cards in the mail
15. Sitting by the fire (now if we only had a fireplace)
14. Buying my yearly dated Hallmark ornament
13. Wearing my pea coat, gloves and a scarf (not that that happens very often in Texas) and coming into a warm house and your face starts to tingle because it’s so warm. She does look cute all bundled up for cold weather
12. Wrapping presents and always putting on a bow
11. Driving around looking at all the houses that are decorated.
10. The smell of winter
9. An excuse to go shopping!
8. Counting down the days on the advent calendar
7. My precious husband’s birthday on Christmas Eve I may be the greatest gift Santa has ever given
6. Christmas crafts with my students.
5. Decorating the Christmas tree to Ann Murray Christmas 1985 and reminiscing with every ornament I am partial to John Denver and the Muppets Christmas but Ann Murray is good.
4. Charlie Brown Christmas
3. Candles lit, Christmas tree on, watching tv, bundled up drinking hot cocoa.
2. Candle Light service on Christmas Eve (Does Lakewood do that?) Highly Doubtful
1. POLAR EXPRESS
Well, I hope you enjoy my wife's list. She really is fun to be around at Christmas because she gets so into it. Thanks, Jac, for letting me post this.

Of Desperate Churches, Hurricanes and Blogs

2006-01-14T13:24:00.000-08:00

11-23-05
I have recently found an exciting new pasttime: reading random blogs. In doing this I have learned a number of things that I had never known before. For instance, I now know more holiday recipes than I could ever sample. I now know that the Bible is full of mathematical codes that, if deciphered, make it possible to know what Jesus thinks about Social Security and George W. Bush. I have also found one blog devoted solely to the praise and worship of bean bag chairs (actually, it is a very funny blog authored by a newly found blog buddy, Josh). I have also learned that my blog so far fits into a certain category of blogging that I have recently discerned in my blog searches. This category includes all those blogs that are written with an air of feaux superiority in which young men like me try to keep up the appearance of cynicism, intelligence, and self-importance. These blogs are filled with false self-effacing humor, harsh criticism of society, and a high-fallutin refusal to be involved in anything sentimental or self-revealing. If I was serious about keeping my blog in this category I would begin this blog entry by saying something like, "I guess it is time to write my yearly obligatory list of things I am thankful for" or "Though I don't know that I am thankful for anything there are some things that are not as bad as others." But, neither of these beginnings represent how I feel: I am truly thankful. So, today I want to list all the things that I am incredibly grateful for. Four months ago I was working in Abilene as the city's most highly educated paper delivery man resigning myself to the fact that I may be delivering business cards well into my late forties if the job search didn't pick up. I was sure that there would never be a church desperate enough to hire an inexperienced 27 year old to be an associate minister. Jacquie and I both found ourselves praying constantly for at least some sign of interest from a church. Then, suddenly, our prayers were answered in a whirlwind of blessings. Lakewood Church of Christ in Baytown called to offer me a job. Two days later Jacquie had an interview with a school in Baytown. One week later, she was offered a job, we had found an apartment, and my days as a paper cutter were over. Oh, what a week and a half. Now, a few months later I am happy in my job and Jacquie feels settled in enough and happy enough to drop "it might be time to start having a baby" hints every other hour. Things are good. Gratitude is easy this year. One reason is that I have seen quite a bit since I have been in Baytown that makes me thankful. Katrina blew through Louisiana the week before I arrived and I spent a lot of time working with evacuees in Baytown. Then, three weeks later, Katrina's only slightly less ugly step sister, Rita threatened to come straight for Baytown, causing us to be caugth up in a wave of evacuation towards the North. We left thinking that we were going to lose everything we had just moved into our new apartment. It was quite a feeling. Thankfully, our area was spared by the fickle storm who struck slightly to our east, causing all kinds of destruction. I can't tell you how thankful we were but we were also completely aware of the fact that the thinngs we own are just fleeting pleasures. there was something more important. I think I was more thankful for that lesson than anything else. Finally, I am thankful for, of all things, blogs. I know this sounds weird but it has been great catching up with everybody. I feel more connected now than I have in a long time. I have some really incredibly faithful and clever friends. But, on top of that I am also able to write about things that are important to me and in doing that I constantly remind myself of the ways in which I have been blessed. God is good. He has blessed my life with great family, an amazing wife, but more importantly with the promise of his love, provision, and peace. Even in the face of two hurricanes I think the people of the Gulf Coast can be at least somewhat thankful for God's blessings this year. There is a sense of peace here that only comes from above. Thanks for reading. I know it's long but I am a preacher, I'm supposed to be wordy. Soon, I will give more exercise updates. Stay tuned.

Breaking the Equipment

2006-01-14T13:23:00.000-08:00

11-18-05

As if the pictures I posted on my last blog were not enough motivation for even the laziest person to get in shape, I must admit that it took more than one motivation for me to make this decision. It, in fact took many many motivations. Some were physical (not being able to breathe after picking up the ice cream cone from the picture in the previous post). Some were spiritual (when God calls our bodies temples, I no longer believe that he is talking about the Temple of Doom). However, one of the most important reasons was geographical. Our apartment complex has a pretty decent gym which we have free access to day and night. It is difficult to use the old "the gym is too far away" excuse when you can throw a rock from your balcony and break the window by the treadmill (although this was the exact excuse I used for the first few months). So, recently I took the dreaded walk over to the clubhouse and found the gym mercifully empty of people. I took a little while to acquaint myself with how each machine worked and mapped out the quickest route to the water fountain from each station. Overall, it was an enjoyable experience. I walked a little, I ran a very little (probably to the water fountain), I lifted a few weights, and I climbed a few stairs all while watching SportsCenter. Oh, what a glorious day. My radiant wife accompanied me on my next gym excursion and it was, again, a pleasant experience. This time we watched Sister Act (nothing is quite as motivating as Whoopi Goldberg in a habit(I have no idea what that last parenthetical statement meant)). Everything was good. It was on our third and fourth trip to the gym that a new wrinkle was introduced into my fledgling excersing life: other people. Nothing can ruin your workout faster than some physically fit specimen running their little heart out on the treadmill next to you. I have to admit that I wasn't so much worried about them seeing me make a fool out of myself with ridiculously small weights or jogging at a creepingly slow pace. If they want to watch me, go ahead. It's there nigthmares, not mine, right? No, what really gets me is that when someone comes into the room you instantly become aware of every noise that you or the machine you are on is making. I know that sounds weird but when the first guy came in I was suddenly cognizant of the fact that the bike I was on was wheezing only slightly louder than I was. It sounded like it was in pain. When the guy jumped on the treadmill to sprint for half an hour, his machine ran silent and smooth. When I get on a treadmill, beer-lovers everywhere come out to their patios to see if the Budweiser Clydesdales are making a promotional run through the complex. And that's just while I'm walking. While that workout was annoying, yesterday's was worse. Several people came and went, including one guy who was 1 1/2 times my size who proceeded to set some kind of land speed record on an eliptical trainer without so much as making a peep. But, he wasn't the worst. Soon a tiny middle-aged woman power-walked into the room straight to the treadmill and began to run at a crazy pace for a long time without breaking a sweat. Here she is sprinting with her mouth closed breathing through her nose like she's on a sedative while I'm on a stationery bike trying not gag on my own tongue pedaling at a pace that wouldn't have gotten me to the corner store by midnight. Needless to say I was perplexed and frustrated.
When I was finished with my ride I decided that I would do some weight training with my legs. I figured that, if anything, that would boost my confidence. Throughout my life, due to some insane genetic blessing I have maintained freakishly large calf muscles (one of my calfs would have fed half the Donner party for several days). So, I figured I should be able to lift a good amount of weight smoothly without much problem. I sat down on the machine and contorted my legs into some bizarre prison torture position and began to lift a fairly good amount of weight. My dreams of smooth lifting were quickly shattered when I realized that my legs were shaking so bad that it was causing the entire machine to rattle like a wooden roller coaster. Luckily at this point everyone had left except for Jacquie. If anyone else had been there they would have run over in order to either treat the machine for seizures or arrest the rogue jackhammer operator hiding in the corner. I guess my legs have gone a little soft, along with my arms, my belly, my chest, my neck, and after yesterday's workout, maybe even my brain. Why am I doing this to myself? Well, there it is. Me in the gym using machines with instructions I can't understand exercising muscles with names I can't pronounce all in the name of....whatever. Author's Note: Most of this blog entry is an exaggeration (although not much of one). The truth is I have found working out ot be exhilirating and occasionally enjoyable. It's just a lot more fun to tell it this way.

How to Choose?

2006-01-14T13:09:00.000-08:00

11-15-05

I have to admit that it was an incredibly scary notion for me to start a blog due to my overwhelming inadequacy in all tings computer related. My previous expertise in computers reached only as far as how to insert footnotes in Microsoft Word. Then I start blogging and realize that I am going to have to post pictures and edit HTML and publish things and my head started spinning. A shot of whiskey, two Xanax, and a call to my wife later and I was sufficiently calmed down enough to have Jacquie come up to the office and walk me through the process. I wanted to choose a picture for my profile so that people could see what I look like. Little did I know what a terrible process that would be. We searched through hundreds of pictures of the two of us together and each one was the same, Jacquie looking radiant and me looking like I had just been on a five-month kolache bender. The choice was difficult. So I thought that my second blog should be the finalists for the worst picture for my profile contest. So, here goes. Picture #1 - Obviously I have never taken etiquette or posture classes. Also, listen closely to the picture and you can hear that chair screaming for help.

Picture #2 - The problem I have with this picture is that I look incredibly uncomfortable. Apparently I cannot turn my head, open my eyes, or smile in any way that looks natural. This picture was taken on a trolley in Abilene. Maybe that's the problem. Maybe I'm depressed that the only excitement we could find in a hundre-mile radius was riding a trolley down Pine Street.

Picture # 3 - Check out that sweat stain under the arm pit. At one point that stain stretched all the way around the back and connected to the sweat from the other pit. That would look nice on the profile.

Picture #4 - This was actually contender until I realized that I am holding what has to be the biggest ice cream cone this side of wherever it is there might be big ice cream cones. It is as big as my head. Can you imagine looking at that on a profile? "that fellow likes his ice cream"

Picture #5 - I actually like this one because the perspective is all thrown off and I look tiny. Then I looked at my face and realized that my smile looked a little forced, like I was posing for my junior high girl's volleyball picture.

Picture #6 - This was taken at a fourth of July party in Maryneal Texas where I was preaching for the week, which is appropriate since I seem to have accidentally come dressed as the flag. The pin I am wearing says, if you can believe it, "I (heart) Maryneal" I wore it proudly.

Picture #7 - The best for last. If I had anything resembling an explanation for this picture believe I would write it here. There is just no excuse.
Well, there you have it. Needless to say I went directly home after looking at these pictures and excerised my little heart out. I guess I should explain to you that I have recently begun an attempt to lose some weight which will probably be the subject of many a blog in the future. Oh and by the way, I chose the picture for my profile because it shows me and Jacquie having a good time and smiling real, not picture posed smiles. Those are the pictures that I love. I hope you have had a little fun looking at these pictures, but don't get used to them, that Spruce won't be around for long.

And Away We Go!

2006-01-14T13:08:00.000-08:00

11-11-05
As is the custom of most dorks, I have traditionally been incredibly late in accepting and/or participating in cultural trends or sensations. However, recently, I decided that it would be worth my while to try out many of those cultural phenomena that I had previously refused. So, here I sit wearing a HyperColor T-shirt, Z Cavaricci's, a pair of Aqua-Socks, and Oakley shades, drinking a Starbucks Slim-Fast Smoothie, eating a Gordita while constantly checking my Swatch to make sure that I am not late for my Spinning/Pilates/Macarena class that starts in twenty minutes. (I apologize for the fact that you just spent fifteen seconds reading a sentence that may have possibly made you dumber) So, as a part of my new identity as a band-wagoning sheep I have decided that I will allow myself to be caught up in the blogging craze. (Actually, I just figured that it would be cheaper than therapy sessions) I promise you that the things I write in this blog will be actual thoughts that I think, so that you can gain some confidence that you are not, in fact, the strangest person on Earth. Just think of this as my ministry to all the other dorks in the world. Yes, that includes you. Seriously, I started a blog because I have had a great deal of fun over the past few days catching up with friends from college without having to have a conversation. It is a remarkable thing to be able to tap into the random thoughts of other people in the universe. I thought it might also be fun to add a little to it. I have also found that blogging can allow us to share the more serious sides of our lives as well. I have found great inspiration in reading Matt W.'s, Katie's, and Shanta's blogs over the past few days. It will be great to have this forum to share in all these things with my friends. Now, on with the show. (I'll put pictures and stuff on here later)