All That I Can't Leave Behind

Beau

2011-05-18T00:27:00.006-05:00

We have been blessed to have two wonderful cats for fourteen years.

We adopted Oliver first. Oliver is an orange tabby. Some would say "ginger tabby" but he might bristle at that appellation. It sounds like a girl's name. He was abandoned along with his sister on someone's doorstep before they were even weaned. He was taken to the Humane Society where they nursed them to health. After calling ahead to the society, I had originally intended to adopt them both but his sister was taken by someone else in the time it took me to drive there. They won't "hold" animals for you. We're not sure exactly when he was born but going by the vet's estimate, it was sometime around the first week of February in 1997. We chose to make Groundhog Day his birthday.

Oliver was a handful as a kitten. He wanted to wrestle and bite all the time and needed to be fed by hand for the first few weeks. I was covered with tiny scratches. He really bonded with me during that time, though, and is my constant companion to this day. If I sit down, he is in my lap. He will wait by the window for me to come home at night. He's sitting here by my shoes as I type this.

We stayed on the lookout for a feline companion for Oliver. With the help of a neighbor who worked for our vet we found the cutest kitten we'd ever seen when she was only a few weeks old. She was shaped more like a piggy bank than a kitten - very roly-poly. She was gentle and timid but took instantly to my wife, falling asleep on her shoulder. We made an agreement with her owner to pay for all her vet bills and shots until she was weaned and then we'd take her in.

The owners had named all of her litter after NASCAR drivers and were calling her Ernie Irvin at the time because she opened only one eye the day she was born (I'm told Irvin once wore an eye patch while recovering from a serious crash). She was also raised with pit bulls who frequently "played with her" by taking her head in their mouths. While Oliver would frequently attack her when she first moved in, he couldn't accomplish that feat, so she adapted rather well.

We originally named her Twister but my wife decided at the last minute to change it to Misty when we filed for her license. It really fits her because she is very sweet and gentle.

Misty was an average size for a time but after being spayed her weight ballooned rapidly. At her heaviest, she weighed 18 pounds and we were very worried about her health. Thankfully we found a weight reduction food that she liked and leveled off at a still-heavy but less-alarming 11 pounds. She kept a tremendous appetite and would openly and loudly lie to one of us if she thought they didn't see her being fed by the other only moments before.

Over the past fourteen years they have become the children we never had. We love them, talk to them, talk through them, have conversations about them several times a day.

We also worry about them. In the past several months they've become less active. Their whole lives, they've greeted us at the door when we came home. But now Misty's arthritis bothers her too much and she just ambles into the dining room after we've already come in. Oliver has become more cold-natured and he tends to stay curled up in a warm spot, trying to catch a few more winks until we find him and let him know we're home. He also doesn't watch for me in the window every night like he used to. But he does like to sleep like a baby, with his chin over my shoulder, while I'm sitting at the computer.

Still, they are relatively healthy for their age and we're very thankful for them. We will certainly miss them when they're gone. (Edit: We said our final goodbyes to Misty on July 2, 2011. She was in kidney failure. We love you, Li'l Bit.) But we want to enjoy the time we have.

All this talk reminds of a poem by the legendary actor, Jimmy Stewart, which he read once on The Tonight Show. Take a listen below.

Chill

2009-06-04T06:24:00.000-05:00

I've got a political blog. But this is a spiritual issue related to it, so I feel it belongs here.

I've been frustrated rather than passionate about politics for the past decade. I don't like either side, really, and have been angry that people are growing more and more resistant to reasonable compromise. With the advent of the internet, there seem to have been more political opinions written since 1995 than in all of human history combined. I can see a dozen per day just among my friends on Facebook! Yet there is actually less sharing of information, less dialogue, less cooperation than I've ever seen in my life. Everyone's shouting and no one is listening - except to people who already agree with them.

Several times over the course of the past months I've had to remind myself that no one becomes leader of a nation without it passing through God's hands. I've tried to step into online arguments (some of which I started) and say, "It's not the end of the world if it turns out differently than you'd like. God outranks them all." Political parties, systems of government, and economic ideologies are - ultimately - just "chariots and horses."

Let's remember that the whole Earth will be ruled by a loving and benevolent absolute monarchy one day and is under its care right now.

Let's just put a peeing Calvin on it and be done with it

2009-02-10T18:06:00.018-06:00

Many people are ooh-ing and ahh-ing over the new license plate adopted by our state. In pastel colors it depicts an idyllic Alabama beach scene. This is intended to generate tourism to our narrow but lovely stretch of coastline on the Gulf of Mexico, something of which many folks - even in our own state -are unaware.

Others are marveling that we have finally secured the rights to the title of Lynryd Skynyrd's paean to our beautiful state and that the words Sweet Home Alabama will finally be emblazoned on our automobiles.

Here is the new tag in all it's splendor:

Nice enough, I suppose.

But I am not too amped about all this. Because I know how it will actually look on the highway.

Here's my guess at what the final exhibition will be:

Thank you, frailty

2008-08-16T09:38:00.012-05:00

I really needed this song today. Even though it's ten years old I only really listened to it this week - right before I needed it. Thank you, Providence!

Thank U
Lyrics by Alanis Morissette

How about getting off of these antibiotics
How about stopping eating when I'm filled up
How about them transparent dangling carrots
How about that ever elusive kudo

Thank you India
Thank you terror
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you frailty
Thank you consequence
Thank you thank you silence

How about me not blaming you for everything
How about me enjoying the moment for once
How about how good it feels to finally forgive you
How about grieving it all one at a time

Thank you India
Thank you terror
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you frailty
Thank you consequence
Thank you thank you silence

The moment I let go of it was
The moment I got more than I could handle
The moment I jumped off of it was
The moment I touched down

How about no longer being masochistic
How about remembering your divinity
How about unabashedly bawling your eyes out
How about not equating death with stopping

Thank you India
Thank you providence
Thank you disillusionment
Thank you nothingness
Thank you clarity
Thank you thank you silence

Alanis is more than slightly off her rocker sometimes (although I don't have room to talk) and this song was born out a trip to India, not Saddleback Church. But she's always brutally honest and I love her anyway.

Grace for the Captain

2008-08-13T10:28:00.012-05:00

Note: Some of this is sheer speculation but it sounds better this way!

Choker? You could argue that. She's an elite athlete. She's been in these situations before. She knows from pressure. I'm not of that school but many athletes (including, probably, the lady herself) and armchair quarterbacks are. I'm just too touchy-feely for that.

Goat? No dice. She wasn't the only reason Team USA finished second. She was a major factor but the Chinese were also.

Robot. Robot? Yes, I've actually seen this term in print, used to describe a world champion gymnast with a heart the size of her home state, Massachusetts.

The boors - actually the astonishingly perfect morons - who say Alicia Sacramone showed no emotion when her dreams of Olympic gold were quashed as she fell from the balance beam last night are blind and obviously have no clue how to read other human beings. I hope they aren't married or dating anyone. They will have many years of pain caused by their obliviousness. Sacramone was on the verge of tears immediately after her beam routine but she refused to cry for the phalanx of cameras that were stuck in her face. Why? I can't read her mind but here's my take:

Because she was the adult.

She was the leader.

She was the captain.

Any reasonable person could see Alicia was utterly shattered and her eyes were filled with shock, grief, and an absolute all-consuming rage at herself. She even fell on her hands and knees at one point and fought to compose herself. But she refused to give the prying eyes of the world the satisfaction of watching her cry. And she would not break down in front of her teammates because she was trying to keep the agony from spreading and to reinforce her example to them. An example she set when they had made many mistakes during Sunday's qualifying, when she encouraged and coached her younger teammates to bounce back, to focus, to overcome. She wasn't going to be a hypocrite.

Did she bounce back? No. Did she maintain her focus? No. Did she overcome? As far as last night goes, one could argue she didn't. But, my goodness, she struggled mightily to do so.

Personally, I think many of us would have curled up in the corner and gone quietly insane if we'd spent twelve years to reach that one night and had it all collapse in a fraction of a second.

Thanks to the newly intrusive microphones in the team's huddles, I have marveled at Alicia all week for showing superior leadership and level-headedness. Through the setbacks of Sunday's qualifying round she was unfailing in her ability to rally her teammates and keep them on task and in a positive frame of mind. Sadly, she actually seems much more mature, emotionally, than their coach, Marta Karolyi. Alicia may have realized that, too. And that may have been her undoing. Last night I felt like she had probably taken too much responsibility on herself. She may have seen their success or failure resting solely on her shoulders. For a 20-year-old with billions watching, that's an incredible amount of pressure.

When she finally cracked under that pressure, she could not encourage the one teammate who needed it the most.

She dispensed so much grace that she had none left for herself.

Stone-faced and feeling absolutely outside of her body, her brown eyes filled with both fire and ice as they stared out at nothing, she let her teammates' encouraging words bounce off her ears and fall to the ground like rice off a groom's back. She would hear none of it. It was a distraction.

But one girl got through to her. It was only for an instant but it was real and it was a harbinger of hope.

Shawn Johnson. A Miss Perfect who realizes that she is far from it. She stood toe-to-toe with her captain. She looked Alicia in the eye and said something. I don't know what. But it made a fleeting smile pass across Alicia's face. Just one moment of grace in a night that will haunt her dreams for months, maybe years.

It didn't take the pain away. It didn't rally Alicia to a triumphant recovery in the floor exercise. But it was a start in her recovery from that one mistake. She will recover. She will graduate soon from an Ivy League school. She will be a great leader in whatever field she enters, rest assured.

And this was a start.

Just six this time? I can handle six.

2008-05-27T10:58:00.008-05:00

I've been tagged by Dave C. to participate in this meme:

6 Random Things About Me

1. I am a supertaster, a person who experiences taste - especially bitterness - with far greater intensity than average. I also have a strong revulsion to almost any pungent food (I like only a hint of garlic) and any food that tastes, for lack of a better word, spoiled (rye bread, brie, etc.) Grapefruit, raw onions, Brussels sprouts, and spinach are absolutely inedible. One piece of diced onion can ruin an entire hamburger for me. It's all I can taste from that point on. Coffee is merely for warmth in the winter and must be heavy on cream and sweetener. Cilantro smells and tastes like a strong deodorant soap to me, which is usually a good indicator of a supertaster. My favorite Mexican restaurant recently began using cilantro in their salsa and I'm heartbroken. My sense of smell is equally sensitive. I get extreme headaches if I spend more than 30 seconds in the detergent aisle.

2. I was well into my thirties before I learned the real words to "I'd Really Love to See You Tonight" by England Dan and John Ford Coley. It's "movin' in" not "the linen." Even knowing that, I can't understand why they say it like "moo vinnen." That's what they get for cramming a 2-1 syllable combination into a 1-2 beat.

3. I believe ketchup doesn't belong on your hot dog if you're more than 12 years of age. Mustard, relish, chili, or cheese. Everything else is anathema. See #1 for my opinion on onions.

4. I am a Toyota man. They last 20 years, are very forgiving, and get great mileage.

5. I am a Smarties junkie. I cannot have a bag of Smarties near me. I will eat every last one of them in succession. Non-stop. It's scary. The sugar buzz makes my heart race.

6. True story: Once, as a teenager, I was washing my hair in the shower and got shampoo in my eyes. As I began to rinse away the burning soap, I tried to open my eyes to let the water in. When I opened them, I couldn't see anything! I kept rinsing and rinsing frantically but every time I opened them again there was still only utter blackness. I yelled, slung the shower door open and flailed at the wall trying to find a towel. Suddenly I heard the hallway door open and my mother's voice saying, "You didn't go blind! The power went out!" I guess she knew every adolescent boy's deepest fear...

Joy unspeakable. Or unspoken.

2008-05-22T16:04:00.019-05:00

I have had moments where I've had warm feelings about God. I'm sometimes grateful for some of the people and situations he's brought into my life. I appreciate what happened at the cross and I have been moved by it on occasion. But I've never been someone who just cannot contain himself about his unabashed ecstasy at how great God is. I suppose that's because I don't really have any overwhelming joy about Him.

I can't identify with people who - out of the clear blue sky - shake their heads and laugh and say things like, "God is just so awesome! He's just incredible! I'm just so astonished and amazed at how fantastic He is and how wonderful He has been to me! Yea, God!" Of course, I often take such people with a grain of salt. Too many times it has been revealed that they were trying to convince not only others but themselves that they were on the right track. But just as often I'm pretty sure they genuinely are overcome with joy.

Is there something wrong with me? Am I an ungrateful backslidden worm? I sure feel like it.

I know that the comparison game is a trap and that I don't get all wild and demonstrative about much anyway. It has to be really, really, REALLY outside my normal experience to get me fired up. Having an Apache helicopter descend on our riverfront retreat party uninvited (and hover for several minutes while we cheered) instigated possibly the last time I went spontaneously crazy about anything and that was several years ago. Even my recently acquired annual pilgrimage to an Alabama football game (thanks Mike!) has lost a little of its fire. Of course, actually winning could help that...

You want honesty? You really want honesty? Gloves off?

Why am I required to be grateful no matter what happens to me or the ones I love? If I ever stop long enough to really think about the horrors, I sure don't feel joy and gratitude. i just want to curl up in a ball and cry and beg Him to make it stop. In fact I've tried that, too. Didn't work.

Why am I supposed to tell God He's wonderful every time something terrible happens? Because He orders me to? That's not a good enough reason for me. At all. In fact, it's a pretty ludicrous reason on the face of it. "I make the rules. I define wonderful. It's whatever I do! Isn't that cool?!" Is that really what He means by His statements to the prophets or Job?

Maybe I will eventually learn something from it some day. Well, someday never seems to come. I never learn. So the hits just keep on coming. And what am I supposed to learn exactly? That He's right no matter what and I'm wrong no matter what? Hello! Square one.

How about I take the summer off and start that class again in the fall?

I get angry and hurt and confused sometimes. I cannot get better on my own. I at least know that one! But He never seems to fix me. It's a tough question and it causes its fair share of stress. I see glimmers of answers in the love of others and the positive things pain can drive us to. But it's a long, hard road.

All input is welcome. And don't worry, I don't need medication. Yet!

20 Years

2008-04-29T00:01:00.015-05:00

April 1988.

George H. W. Bush and Michael Dukakis are in the middle of a primary race for the nominations of their respective parties. The Last Emperor wins nine Oscars, including Best Picture. Aloha Flight 243 makes a miraculous landing after its fuselage peels off in mid-flight with the loss of one life. The Soviet Union announces it will begin withdrawal of troops from Afghanistan.

And a nervous, skinny 22-year-old with a cold and a tiny, beautiful 23-year-old stand before God, their families, and friends in Huntsville, Alabama and promise their lives to each other.

He reads the following aloud:

So watch your step. Use your head. Make the most of every chance you get. These are desperate times!

Don't live carelessly, unthinkingly. Make sure you understand what the Master wants.

Don't drink too much wine. That cheapens your life. Drink the Spirit of God, huge draughts of him. Sing hymns instead of drinking songs! Sing songs from your heart to Christ. Sing praises over everything, any excuse for a song to God the Father in the name of our Master, Jesus Christ.

Out of respect for Christ, be courteously reverent to one another.

Wives, understand and support your husbands in ways that show your support for Christ. The husband provides leadership to his wife the way Christ does to his church, not by domineering but by cherishing. So just as the church submits to Christ as he exercises such leadership, wives should likewise submit to their husbands.

Husbands, go all out in your love for your wives, exactly as Christ did for the church—a love marked by giving, not getting. Christ's love makes the church whole. His words evoke her beauty. Everything he does and says is designed to bring the best out of her, dressing her in dazzling white silk, radiant with holiness. And that is how husbands ought to love their wives. They're really doing themselves a favor—since they're already "one" in marriage.

No one abuses his own body, does he? No, he feeds and pampers it. That's how Christ treats us, the church, since we are part of his body. And this is why a man leaves father and mother and cherishes his wife. No longer two, they become "one flesh." This is a huge mystery, and I don't pretend to understand it all. What is clearest to me is the way Christ treats the church. And this provides a good picture of how each husband is to treat his wife, loving himself in loving her, and how each wife is to honor her husband.

Ephesians 5:16-33, The Message

As he reads, he emphasizes the latter portions about love and respect. And they are important. Central, even. But he will learn as the years go by that the verses he (for some reason) couldn't let go of, the ones that didn't quite seem connected to the wedding theme but he couldn't bring himself to exclude, were just as instructive:

Watch your step.
Use your head.
Make the most of every chance you get.
Don't live carelessly, unthinkingly.
Make sure you understand what the Master wants.

He wastes many hours and years ignoring those verses. Thankfully, they remind themselves to him before it is too late.

FREE HUGS

2008-04-16T11:07:00.006-05:00

Encore presentation. One of my favorite videos of all time. There are few things like a well-timed unconditional hug.

More Free Hugs Campaign videos here.

Also, you might have noticed the format change for this blog. While I liked the imagery of the old layout, this one has much better organization and clarity in handling the links and things in the margin. I only just noticed it's a blue version of the one Terri uses but what can you do.

"It was you."

2008-04-07T13:47:00.006-05:00

I left some of you a little worried after an earlier entry ('My Brick Wall') and, truth be told, I ain't out of the woods yet. And life has gotten even tougher since.

But I found something.

I've never really discussed this topic here because, firstly, it involves my wife's health and privacy, and second, it could easily smack of sympathy-baiting. But you can't understand what I'm telling you without it. So, with as much delicacy as I can muster, here goes.

Some of you already know that my wife has an incredibly life-altering chronic condition (and that may not be vague enough to suit her but it is part of my experience as well). This leaves her vulnerable to myriad illnesses and one in particular that we were told from the beginning would be part of her life always and would, statistically, probably be the one that finally takes her from this world.

Well, this illness took a rather important step toward that end a few weeks ago. We were both terrified that it might be the beginning of the end and it still may be. This was extremely difficult to take, even after 18 years of knowing it was coming. No matter how long you live outrunning it, the reality still surprises you when it's finally breathing down your neck. I may be without the love of my life before very long.

Even in the midst of the indignities she bears and in the, frankly, substandard treatment she often receives, we are always together. That will not change. With courage and toughness (stoicism doesn't even begin to cover her response to the monumental pain she endures every hour of every day) she's gone farther than most ever do. We've fought hard to keep it that way. That will not change either. God's done all the rest (although some days we'd be hard pressed to say what, exactly.)

On her second night of this round at the hospital, I lay down as well as I could on the recliner next to her bed and covered myself with a blanket. I needed rest almost as badly as she did and hoped I could quickly find at least a few hours' sleep. I looked at her, lying on her back, her big, beautiful amber eyes looking directly overhead with more than a little worry in them.

I reached over and lay my open hand on her pillow. Silently, and without turning to look, she raised her hand and put it in mine. I gently closed them together. We both shed a tear and sighed. Then a slight smile crossed our lips.

We were happy.

"...wisdom through the awful grace of God."

2008-04-04T14:42:00.001-05:00

Wow.

2008-03-27T16:30:00.003-05:00

I've been bugged by today's date all day. I kept thinking, "Something significant happened on March 27th. What was it?"

Ah-ha!

I was baptized 25 years ago today.

Man, does time fly. Guess it's time to lose the baby formula...

My brick wall

2008-03-04T14:59:00.034-06:00

I've been doing some study on self-improvement, prioritizing, goal-setting, mission statements and the like. I've gotten up quite a head of steam and successfully set aside chunks of time to work on the program I've chosen and spend some time in deep thought about the concepts and principles involved. I was chugging right along and feeling pretty good about it all until I hit a huge brick wall.

One of the components of the program, used to determine what you should be doing with your life, is answering the question:

"What have been some of my greatest moments of happiness and fulfillment?"

For some reason, I cannot answer that question. I put pencil to paper and I cannot write.

Part of my problem is the exactitude with which I handle language. That sentence compels me to list THE absolute top moments in my life. They must have made me happy AND fulfilled. What is happiness? What is fulfillment? Is anyone ever happy or fulfilled, are we even promised happiness, should we seek it, etc., etc., etc. Yes, my head is a busy, busy place.

Many guys who see that question probably jot down, "My wedding day. The day my kids were born. The day I made manager. Restoring my old GTO," and move on to the next question. Thirty seconds flat. I cannot do that. It seems shallow and dishonest. And my story doesn't line up with most of that. At all.

I also refuse to write something I don't really mean because this is serious business, designed to make me confront such issues. For the sake of moving on I want to just put something there, like all the things you're supposed to put there. But those times were often tinged with great sadness for me. So, part of my problem is the guilt I would feel for leaving those things out.

I don't know if I ever have been "happy" in the conventional sense. Maybe I just have an unrealistic idea of what that's supposed to be like. Maybe I overestimate everyone else's moments of joy. Maybe they're overselling them.

I feel like I've spent very little time doing anything that I really wanted to do, either because I was too fearful to try, circumstances wouldn't allow it, or I was too busy living up to other people's expectations of what I am supposed to be doing. And that's a clue: I seem to make other people happy all the time.

"Hello? Mr. Sharp? Yes, this is your midlife crisis calling. How am I doing so far?"

I intend to provide some answers soon. This will end up being good for me because I plan to start doing the happy stuff. Once I found out what it is!

Where's Jim Steinman when you need him?

2008-02-20T10:26:00.006-06:00

Nothing I could do.
Total eclipse of the eclipse.

There's going to be an excellent eclipse of the moon tonight for North America. Not that I'll know it. We're scheduled for overcast skies and possible freezing rain tonight.

This is really disappointing to me. I've had a fascination with astronomy since I was a kid. The incredible distances, sizes, and times involved are at once frightening, humbling, and just plain exciting. The complex interrelationships of all these massive objects and materials is mind-blowing.

I love all of it.

http://www.astronomy.com/asy/default.aspx?c=a&id=6613

Faxes from heaven

2008-02-14T17:29:00.014-06:00

If you know me at all, you probably can't recall hearing me say "God's been doing this" or "The Lord's been showing me that."

I've rarely ever been altogether sure that that's the case for one thing. Even when I was in the midst of an ocean of people who spoke like that and used it as a yardstick for spirituality, it was extremely difficult for me to assign responsibility to God for every event in my life or - especially - for any decision I made. I've always carried doubt that I haven't done God's will. And frankly, most of the time I figured I hadn't really sought it like one should anyway. I suppose I have this 19th century revivalist idea of what that should be like: Six hours on my knees, sweating and weeping and begging. Essentially a mini-Gethsemane every day.

But beyond that, I usually feel like people who use the "God told me" are not really hearing from God, that they're just following their reason or emotions and spiritualizing it along the way. That may sound like an unbeliever's point of view but hear me out.

Most of the people that speak that way, if they really heard from God on every choice they made and were really receiving all this warm and wooly confirmation on a regular basis, would have completely different lives than what they do. I suppose that, from my impossibly perfectionist standards, I can't imagine that God is all behind them getting that new Lexus when they're butt-deep in debt or going on that cruise when they haven't ever set foot in a mission.

It's not that they're bad people. It's just that they're people. And we are all trying to feel better about our lives. I'm not trying to judge anyone. My life is just as filled with contradiction. But I am so scared of all the religiosity I see in ALL of us. I want to scream, "Can't you just admit that you're guessing? Can't you admit that you did that because you need validation, not because God told you to? Can't we all just admit that we rationalize away most of our lives?"

Have I never felt like I've heard from God? I'm not saying that. There have been many occasions when I knew "This is definitely a God thing" but they are far from routine. And they normally didn't have anything to do with blessing me.

"That's like putting your whole mouth right in the dip!"

2008-02-01T18:28:00.000-06:00

Told ya.

Testing confirms Seinfeld phobia: Double dippers turn dip into bacterial soup

"It's not going to cause the plague probably, but the fact of the matter is ... if there was somebody in the room that had (a contagious disease) who was double-dipping, it's a pretty high risk that it's going to be transferred to other people if they're going to be eating out of that bowl."

And it's not a phobia. It's science.

If you must dip a chip multiple times, break it apart first and dip the pieces separately. And wash your hands first.

End of conversation.

Right Makes Might

2008-01-21T16:28:00.000-06:00

Each year on the Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday, I read at least one of his speeches or essays. I have an excellent book called Testament of Hope that contains all of his most significant work. I am partial to the Letter from Birmingham City Jail, the Promised Land sermon (his last), and, of course, his Dream speech. But today my focus is drawn to his Nobel Peace Prize acceptance speech, which contains my favorite MLK quote:

"I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. This is why right temporarily defeated is stronger than evil triumphant."

I believe that one statement encapsulizes the belief and hope that sustained Martin and the civil rights movement, specifically, and all who love truth and justice universally. Sometimes all we have to hold onto is the promise (the knowledge!) that good will eventually win.

The True Gentleman

2008-01-19T20:49:00.000-06:00

Today is my dad's birthday. It's also the birthday of one of his (and my) heroes, Robert E. Lee. I thought I'd share one of my favorite Lee quotes with you today.

"The manner in which an individual enjoys certain advantages over others is the test of a true gentleman.

"The power which the strong have over the weak, the employer over the employed, the educated over the unlettered, the experienced over the confiding, even the clever over the silly — the forbearing or inoffensive use of all this power or authority, or a total abstinence from it when the case admits it, will show the gentleman in a plain light.

"The gentleman does not needlessly and unnecessarily remind an offender of a wrong he may have committed against him. He cannot only forgive, he can forget; and he strives for that nobleness of self and mildness of character which impart sufficient strength to let the past be but the past. A true man of honor feels humbled himself when he cannot help humbling others."

Good boy

2008-01-15T15:07:00.000-06:00

I am a good boy.

I take no for an answer. Every time.

I always let people waste my time and my dime without complaint.

I always say, "That's okay," when someone does or says something thoughtless or hurtful.

If our desires conflict, I will always concede mine first and say, "That's okay," even though I'm dying inside.

I am therefore silently defiant in some aspect of nearly every area of my life.

People cut me slack in my defiance because I am a good boy.

Eventually they get tired of cutting me slack.

I am a bad boy.

Why Geddy Can't Schmooze

2008-01-03T19:32:00.000-06:00

Why do I read stuff like this?

There's a blogger post at IToolbox.com called "Why Geddy Can't Schmooze" that's really grinding my gears. It's written by a CEO who claims to be a huge fan of the legendary prog rock band Rush. He says he has a problem with one of the lyrics of their song 'Limelight' (which he mistakenly believes were written by lead singer and bassist Geddy Lee rather than drummer and lyricist Neil Peart).

If you're not familiar with the song, it's essentially about dealing with strangers in a very public life when you are a naturally introverted and private person. You can find the words here.

The blogger, Mike M., says he had an epiphany about the song after an intensive meet-and-greet schmoozefest he'd attended:

I used to think Geddy's anti-business lyrics cool and insightful until I, er, sold out. But on Friday, on that drive back to the airport, I was thinking about the lyrics ... where Geddy sings:

I have no heart to lie
I can't pretend a stranger is a long-awaited friend

But taking a genuine interest in others is a great way to help establish a long term business relationship. It disarms people and softens the edges if tough negotiations follow in the future. It reminds all the business people that we are all still human...

Ah, if I could talk with Geddy I'd say, "Dude. Don't lie. Don't pretend. Just meet that stranger for real - they might turn out to be a long-awaited friend....or not."

Do you see the thing that sticks in the craw of a true introvert - one who speaks to others only to exchange information and insight?

It is the passage "Taking a genuine interest in others is a great way to help establish a long term business relationship. It disarms people and softens the edges if tough negotiations follow." That ulterior motive - the business angle - is the deal killer. It's an either/or for the introvert. If I am asking you about your hobbies, your family, etc., so I can play the "friend" card in any potentially tough business activities or even just hit you up for favors later, then I am NOT genuinely interested in you. Doesn't this schmoozer get that? Even when he's trying to sell it to you, he sows the seeds of his argument's doom within the argument!

It's not the fact that they are using each other for business purposes. That's not the introvert's problem. It's the lie that it's all about caring for your fellow man. It's not. Stop throwing words like 'genuine' around and we'll stop giving you grief about it, Mike M.

When extroverts push me to "network" I want to scream. I cannot do it. My position is, "Here's what I've got to offer. If you want it, come and get it. It's great stuff. That's the way I approach your business. Feel free to approach mine the same way. Now, I'm going to find a place to eat and read this book. Alone. And don't pretend you've read it, too. If you're genuinely interested in Theodore Roosevelt, Frank Capra movies, or C. S. Lewis, I will gladly talk to you about it at length. But I'll never buy anything from you again."

Living in the limelight, the universal dream
For those who wish to seem
Those who wish to be must put aside the alienation
Get on with the fascination
The real relation, the underlying theme

Dolphins Win! Dolphins Win!

2007-12-17T13:48:00.001-06:00

I know this isn't very spiritual but it so blesses my heart to say this:

Finally!

With a 22-16 overtime win over the Ravens, the Miami Dolphins have ended their streak of futility at 16 losses and prevented a winless season for 2007.

I can't begin to imagine how rough it is for the players but this has definitely been an extremely frustrating and embarrassing season for Dolphin fans. To be the constant butt of jokes for the past few months has been excruciating.

The most annoying aspect has been that everyone speaks of the Dolphins as if they have ALWAYS been a losing team and that they are synonymous with losing. Nothing could be further from the truth. I'm only going to say this once: The Dolphins have the HIGHEST WINNING PERCENTAGE OF ANY TEAM IN NFL HISTORY! [Note: That changed after this season. They're now behind the Cowboys (retch!). The 'Phins still have the best all-time regular season percetnage, however.] Before their current slide they only finished under .500 twice in 33 years!

Now that I think about it, I think I can draw a spiritual metaphor out of this. Actually it started screaming at me a few minutes ago!

Sometimes when you've gone through what seems like the worst possible season of your life, you may feel tempted to start writing off your entire life - forgetting all the accomplishments over the years. Others may conveniently forget your victories as well. This is true on a personal and a corporate level. Many of us have wondered lately (at least for a few moments but sometimes for a few weeks!) if we may have thrown upwards of several years of our lives down a hole.

We haven't. God can and will turn it around. More accurately, He is.

Just like a coach would say: Stay committed to what you know is true. Do the right things both in and out of the public eye - not because you're being watched but because it's right. Keep your focus on doing your assignment with excellence - in the present moment - and not on the circumstances or on someone else's performance. Be teachable. You will win again.

The reason I do this

2007-12-04T15:56:00.000-06:00

Stolen from ingrid.

Please let my dream come true

2007-11-16T12:15:00.000-06:00

Written less than three months after the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr., and only two weeks after the assassination of Robert F. Kennedy, the song 'If I Can Dream' is a passionate cry for and a solemn commitment to a better world. It was composed virtually overnight as a last-minute replacement for the finale of Elvis Presley's 1968 Comeback Special.

When Presley first heard this powerful, important song he was moved to reconsider the trajectory of his career, which then consisted of making frivolous, throwaway musicals. He told the producer of the recording, "I'm never going to sing another song I don't believe in. I'm never going to make another picture I don't believe in." After meeting contractual commitments to musicals already in production (and over the protestations of his notorious manager, Tom Parker) he never made another one.

If I Can Dream
Words and music by W. Earl Brown

There must be lights burning brighter somewhere
Got to be birds flying higher in a sky more blue
If I can dream of a better land
Where all my brothers walk hand in hand
Tell me why, oh why, oh why can't my dream come true

There must be peace and understanding sometime
Strong winds of promise that will blow away
All the doubt and fear
If I can dream of a warmer sun
Where hope keeps shining on everyone
Tell me why, oh why, oh why won't that sun appear

We're lost in a cloud
With too much rain
We're trapped in a world
That's troubled with pain
But as long as a man
Has the strength to dream
He can redeem his soul and fly

Deep in my heart there's a trembling question
Still I am sure that the answer's gonna come somehow
Out there in the dark, there's a beckoning candle
And while I can think, while I can walk
While I can stand, while I can talk
While I can dream, please let my dream
Come true, right now
Let it come true right now

Now, you may be thinking, "How cheesy can you get, Sharp? An ode to an old Elvis tune? Are velvet paintings next?"

But something about this song and the story behind it comforted me, if only for a fraction of a moment. Not just about political things (although that thought occurred to me) but about life. Especially in light of the anniversary of the tornado that altered the course of our lives. I don't talk about it much but sometimes the days are exceptionally dark and the future holds little hope of improvement. The bridge of this song in particular ("We're lost in a cloud..") resonates very deeply with me. I played this video over and over again that day. I bawled my eyes out. And I felt better.

Providence Ministries

2007-10-31T14:34:00.000-05:00

I've discovered some new friends at another blog.

Providence Ministries is a group of people headquartered in St. Paul, Minnesota who are doing all they can to help Haitian Christians in practical, lasting ways that the Haitians themselves can perpetuate. They travel frequently to Haiti and work closely with individuals in need, becoming involved in their daily lives.

Providence Ministries blog

One of these heroes is a pediatrician named Jen, a fellow U2 and Bono fan. She recently finished her residency and is currently living in Haiti full-time, working two shifts every day (free of charge) at local clinics and hospitals. She sees severe cases of malnutrition, malaria, tuberculosis, parasites, and HIV/AIDS while hampered with extremely limited facilities. It's amazing that this young woman was completing medical education in June and was in that country to help others by September.

Dr. Jen's blog
Typical day for Jen in the slums of Port au Prince as documented by PM member Marcia

Keep them in your prayers and - if you feel led - send them some support via their PayPal link.

For those of you with weather on the brain (i.e., the only other person who seems to read this blog!), they have several posts detailing their rain and flooding experiences and most recently their brush with the Noel system without the aid of professional weather reports.

How did I find this blog? I was clicking on my profile, finding people who had similar taste in books, and through 'Celebration of Discipline' I found the profile of PM member Terri.

Of course, this was all blind luck. Right.

Have you prayed for Britney lately?

2007-10-28T02:17:00.001-05:00

Church organizes support for Britney

LEXINGTON, Ky. - The congregation of Southland Christian Church is being asked to send letters of love and support to troubled pop star Britney Spears, described by the pastor as having made "devastating life choices."

"Take a few minutes and write a note to Britney Spears," pastor John Weece said in a sermon and in a blog on the church Web site. "No preaching. No criticizing. Just love. As a church, let's love Britney the way Jesus loves her."

Weece said the idea came as he watched repeated reports of Spears' reported problems with drugs and alcohol and the loss of custody of her children.

"If she were your next-door neighbor in the same situation without the money and success, wouldn't you care about her problems? Wouldn't you pray for her and offer her support and encouragement?" he asked members of the church.

Isn't that true? I'm guilty of occasionally using Britney as a punchline. Not too often, since I do find her situation more sad and perplexing than humorous or even scandalous. But enough to feel wrong about it.

When Britney burst on the international scene as a 16-year-old nine years ago (yes, you've known who she is THAT long) she professed faith in Christ. If so, she may be a child of God who went completely off the rails before she was even eligible to rent a car. Her two babies are also involved in this mess. And every waking moment of her life is documented by dozens of photographers who are wishing she'll do something - anything - wrong. That's cause for prayer if I've ever heard it.

Remember this troubled young girl from Louisiana sometime today.

Reality

2007-10-15T23:11:00.000-05:00

"In your teens you feel you can drive that car as fast as you can and you won't come off at the bend. In your twenties you have some near misses. In your thirties you realise you are in danger. And in your forties I think you're just really glad if you wake up in the morning."

– Bono

I know the feeling, man.

Bill Hybels teams with Bono on African relief

2007-09-14T17:22:00.000-05:00

In an unlikely pairing (at least on the face of it), megachurch founder and pastor Bill Hybels and U2's Bono have become fast friends and partners in an effort to alleviate (if not completely eradicate) the poverty, starvation, and AIDS that have wracked Africa for decades. It's a brilliant collaboration for God to concoct! Bill is a conservative, analytical, market-driven evangelical preacher from the Midwest and Bono is a drinking, swearing, Catholic/Protestant "mutt" of a single-named rock star. But they both have a passion for reaching the world.

Here, in eight parts, is the video presentation of Hybels interview of Bono for Willow Creek's Leadership Summit in August 2006. They discuss Bono's thoughts on grace, the church, and it's avoidance of the poor and sick in contrast to Christ's mandates on the subject. And Hybels counters with the necessity of working through the local church to have a lasting impact. It's good stuff!

You don't have to watch all eight parts at once but please watch it all when you can.

Focus

2007-08-17T16:51:00.000-05:00

Do you really know a guy who's THIS focused?

Me neither. Of course it's an exaggeration. That's why it's funny. She's writing her number on a newspaper that will be in the recycling tomorrow (using a semi-opaque medium, so he can still read through it). No guy with half a brain would seriously swat away a beautiful woman for that. (Half would frame it!) But it's a humorous illustration of - as they said - priorities.

Now is it merely cynical of me to think that no guy would be that focused or am I just being realistic? Worse, am I saying that just to absolve myself of trying? Are you?

I love these types of questions. Hate answering them.

Willow Creek Arts Conference 2007 - Pt. 3

2007-07-05T13:40:00.001-05:00

The actual draw for the conference was the roster of guest speakers. But it was the ones I was least familiar with that had the most impact on me.

Donald Miller

Though I don't see eye-to-eye with Emerging author Don Miller on everything, I can't help but like the guy. He is so candid about his thought life, his doubts, his shortcomings, his vices, and his all-around goofiness that he's like a favorite cousin you find cool, challenging, and consistently befuddling. He's a big, teddy bear kind of guy who looks like he could have played center in football but couldn't pull himself away from TV and Doritos long enough to bother. He wears rumpled clothes and has a buck-toothed grin that makes him look like a 1950s child star when he smiles. And he smiles a lot, especially when a joke goes over well.

Miller's self-deprecating wit, his conversational style, and his arms-length relationship with his evangelical background are his trademarks. You feel like he's hanging out with you at dusk, sitting on the hood of a car, swapping life stories and wondering about why crap works the way it does. It's like he circled around things in life until it dawned on him that - even though its representatives are often lame and its concepts seem outdated - Christian spirirtuality (an Emerging euphemism for Christianity, minus the supposed institutional "baggage") actually had the answers he was looking for.

Even though he tries to maintain a fairly liberal and liberated life, deep down he's fairly orthodox in his beliefs. He just doesn't dress them up in 19th century traditions, rules and regulations, and both fear- and comfort-based judgmentalism. He wants to leverage ALL of church history and teaching, not just the post-Awakening "convicted, converted, and conservative" stuff.

Miller sees Postmodernist Christianity as a corrective to the Rationalist theology of the past three centuries (give or take a few years) so he's pretty stoked about protesting the reduction of the gospel into a set of beliefs (he calls them The Five Bullet Points). He is adamant that subscription to set of doctrines does not make you a Christian. And he is right. Correct beliefs are no indicator of salvation. Satan believes in the virgin birth, the atonement, etc. and he ain't saved.

Miller is insistent that we must have an experiential relationship with Christ as well and that this relationship - like any relationship we have with another person - cannot be broken down into formulas and systematized. Or rationally explained!

He drew a great parallel with marriage. I'll make a hash of it but here goes:

He once asked a friend, Tony, "Why do you love your wife?" His friend ticked off several reasons: She was a Christian, she was great-looking, she was intelligent, etc. Then Don proposed a hypothetical to him. Suppose, Don asked, if he found an insanely beautiful woman with a body like a Greek goddess, was NASA-physicist smart, and was a dedicated missionary who made Mother Teresa look like a gal handing out tracts. Would he then transfer his affections to that woman?

"Of course not!" Tony replied.

"But all those things you listed as why you love your wife are even more present in this woman."

"That doesn't matter."

"Then you still haven't told me why you love your wife," Miller said.

"I just do. That's all I can tell you."

It's a mystery. And in our rationalistic society, where everything must be explainable and quantifiable, we hate mysteries.

But it's the same with loving Christ. If you can only rattle off a list of things you know about Jesus, if there's no inexplicable passion that you know is true but you can't put into words, maybe you don't know Him.

Side note: Even though it's honest, that "I just do. That's all I can tell you" line will not work on your wife. Unfair but true.

Miller says making the Christian life about following 4 steps to salvation and 5 points to understanding God and avoiding 7 deadly sins is a left-brained template foisted on a right-brained Bible. There are true things that are simply a mystery and cannot be dissected or proof-texted.

While his biggest-selling book, "Blue Like Jazz," doesn't expound on it satisfactorily, he is very clear in his public speaking and teaching that this is not an either/or propostion. You must use both approaches - right belief and experiential relationship - but they are both imperfect in this world.

Right belief can point you to the right place but it is always filtered through human reason and swayed by cultural biases (like fiscal conservatism and prohibition - neither of which is mandated by scripture). Like Miller says, the chances of your theology always being right are a million to one. Experience can indicate you made it to the right place but it can be influenced by flawed emotions and manipulation. We need both.

I cannot recommend highly enough that you read his books, particularly Blue Like Jazz and Searching for God Knows What. If you're a seeker, read Jazz first. He goes into how and why he finally came to believe Christianity despite all the religious trappings. If you're a Christian, read Searching first, because it will assure you he really does believe before you read Blue Like Jazz. In fact, it's so passionate it'll make you wonder whether you believe! There are some chapters in both these books that were so good they rank very near C.S. Lewis in my affections.

My greatest concern with the Emerging movement is that it can undermine assurance. About salvation or about God in general. There's an intentional humility in saying, "No one has anything completely figured out." But for some, that is becoming their overarching belief, not Christ. And that's pretty uninspiring, really. Not to mention scary. I will address this movement at length at a later time.

Here's a video clip of quotes from Don's session.

Willow Creek Arts Conference 2007 - Pt. 2

2007-07-02T13:26:00.001-05:00

The nominal draw of the Arts Conferences are the "breakout sessions" with subject matter experts drawn mostly from Willow Creek's own ministry teams. These are either lectures or demonstrations of practical areas of expertise or concern for those involved in artistic endeavors in the church.

The four sessions I signed up for had varying degrees of impact on me. The first, on script editing, was helpful for me as a drama leader but was all too brief. Led by one of my favorite Willow script writers (and actors), Mark Demel, it went step by step through the draft and edited versions of an actual script done by a Willow staff writer. Especially handy was the appearance of some of their volunteer actors to read each version of the script as it evolved. Mark engaged the class for opinions as things progressed and it was a fairly involved group. One thing it really blessed us with? A sense that we actually knew what we were doing. We made some pretty good calls about the script.

The first thing that Mark pointed out when the class began was that drama often gets a great deal of praise but usually not as many resources as other ministries in the average church. Unlike Willow Creek, only a miniscule number of churches have paid drama staff. He asked for a show of hands in our class and only two out of about 60 or so were paid - and they were part time. He said in the worship leader classes that number was usually reversed. This means that drama ministry has to run almost completely on passion. But that can be a good thing!

I stuck around for a few minutes after class to speak to Mark. But as the line grew, I just sat down in the front row a few feet away and listened as he addressed others' questions. Most were about practical things like lead times and rehearsal schedules. Some were about creative ideas and others were along the lines of "Master Yoda, teach me the ways of the Force." It was helpful. As the line ended, I joined Mark on his way out the door and told him about the success we'd had with their scripts and how much I appreciated the inspiration they'd given for tackling tough subjects and in addressing mundane ones in risk-taking (and fun) ways. He was glad to hear that Willow's stuff was playing well to our audience.

Here's one of my favorite Demel scenes we've performed, "The Next Step." It's edgy and as funny as I've ever seen. Mark is the guy in the plaid flannel shirt and the other fellow (whose part I played) is the director, Rod Armentrout. They are priceless together.

Willow Creek Arts Conference 2007 - Pt. 1

2007-06-16T20:32:00.000-05:00

I spent the better part of this week in South Barrington, Illinois with 5,000 arts ministers at the annual Willow Creek Arts Conference. That alone would be an experience in itself. But the lessons, the blessings, and the encouragement I walked away with are a little overwhelming and certainly hard to describe in one sitting.

The first impression one gets is of Willow Creek itself. This is a massive church, folks. It's like a convention center, airport concourse, shopping mall, college cafeteria, and office complex all rolled into one. The main auditorium (click on the photo) seats 7,400 and they fill it up at each of three services per weekend. Then there's the food court, coffee shop (complete with lots of tables and counters and free wi-fi), a full-fledged Christian bookstore that's open 7 days a week, a regulation gymnasium, a top-notch television production studio, and ... well, I could go on but I won't. I wouldn't be surprised if the campus could be seen from space without magnification.

If you know me, you know I had a bit of unease with all this ... stuff. Part of me was crying "Is all of this really necessary?" Sure, it brings in the affluent suburban white males they want to attract, but at some point can't they say, "Okay, you're in the door. Start trying to live wthout your toys for an hour and let's sink the next $600 million into building a church for poor urban black males in downtown Chicago"? Is it because their tithes would only be about $5 a week? Just wondering.

At any rate, it's accommodating and professionally run. The thing that impressed me most? The restrooms. Every soap and towel dispenser was full, every motion-activated sink worked, every toilet flushed, the trash was collected constantly, and the floors were always clean, even with thousands of people stampeding through them all day. There were volunteers posted throughout the place to give us directions (and we needed them) on our way to classrooms in the six different buildings that comprise the complex. I've never been to a conference or convention so organized and professional.

Bill Hybels, the founding pastor of Willow (as they call it), says, "Excellence honors God and inspires people." I get what he's saying but I must point out: Sometimes striving for excellence can just be a sign of ego or anal retentiveness. Any quality in and of itself does not automatically honor God. Their has to be intent behind it.

Having said all that, I'm not trying to bash Willow Creek. As you will see in my later posts, I enjoyed their conference immensely and have great respect for many of their staff. I'm just thinking out loud, that's all.

Leadership

2007-05-24T12:12:00.001-05:00

At this moment, I am humbled and awed by Joe Paterno.

I am a huge college football fan but I have been embarrassed by the off-the-field behavior of players for years. Many act like nothing more than thugs with scholarships. But I am even more appalled by the weak, unprincipled, self-defeating responses of the head coaches involved.

For example, star linebacker Juwan Simpson of my very own Alabama Crimson Tide was arrested for illegal firearm and drug possession a little more than a year ago. What was then-coach Mike Shula's response? He suspended Simpson for a few games - but Shula cherry-picked the games so that they were against (supposedly) pushover teams and Simpson's absence wouldn't be as sorely missed.

Shula said he "didn't want to penalize the rest of the team." WHY NOT? Did that not miss the whole point? Shouldn't Simpson have missed consecutive games regardless of the opponents? Wouldn't that drive home the point that his behavior effects the whole team, not just his stats? Wouldn't that bring pressure on the other players to hold each other accountable and learn, oh, I don't know, leadership, maybe?

Well, Penn State head coach Joe Paterno hasn't missed the point. Or the opportunity to demonstrate it. One of his star players instigated a brawl and called up some of his teammates to "back him up." The word spread among the players and more than a dozen showed up to fight and some were hauled into jail.

Paterno did not hole up in his office mulling police reports or press acoounts or interviewing players to see who did and didn't participate in the melee. Instead, he wanted to know why the other players - some of whom knew about the call for brawlers - didn't step up and try to intercept the others before they embarassed the team and the university. Why did they not act like leaders and shut the thing down before it began or at least try to break it up once it had?

His response? He IS penalizing the rest of the team. He IS reminding them that the actions of one or fifteen effect ALL of them. He is making the entire team clean up 107,000 seat Beaver Stadium after each home game this fall. They will spend every Sunday morning picking up hot dog wrappers and used diapers, scraping up chewing gum and crusty nacho cheese, washing beer and ketchup off the surfaces, and sweeping up used straws. In the meantime, they will build a home for Habitat for Humanity and serve as volunteers for Special Olympics this summer.

I say I am humbled because - as a leader - I'm not sure I would have the guts or presence to execute this gargantuan bit of discipline. But I sure hope I will learn from Joe Pa's example.

I know Bear Bryant would love it!

Read the amazing details here:
Full story

I need a hug!

2007-03-26T13:37:00.000-05:00

Seriously. I'm tired and not feeling very good about myself today.

And I bet very recently you've needed one, too. There's something healing about a well-timed, genuine, unconditional hug.

Just hug somebody today. They need it, too, whether they admit or not.

Fore!

2007-02-26T16:00:00.001-06:00

According to MetLife, the average life expectancy of a person born the year I was is 72 years. I do however have a 50/50 chance of hitting 83.

So ... if I look at my life expectancy as a game of golf (even if nothing untoward happens), I am on the back nine of my years. Precisely, if I assume a par 4 (and that I'm shooting par), I just hit the tee shot on the 11th hole and I'm watching the ball reach its apex over the fairway.

If my life were a football game, there would be about 10 minutes and change left in the third quarter.

A baseball game? There'd be one out in the top of the 6th.

Yikes.

I'm struggling with this because I really feel like I've not even begun to touch what I should be doing with my time. Perhaps this exercise - which really points up how little time I have for counterproductive nonsense - will help me get more serious about finding God's will and better prioritize my schedule.

Impact

2007-02-13T11:15:00.000-06:00

I've been hearing a lot lately about mentoring and reaching out to those who are learning, growing, and struggling and taking time - no matter how little - for them. It's often reiterated that we have no idea how much things that we may consider inconsequential can profoundly influence others. But I'm often intimidated - even by kids a third my age - into inaction in this area. I pray for help.

My friend Mike was recently approached by a former middle school student of his and learned just such a lesson. Even though Mike initially had trouble even placing the now-grown attorney's name, the young man hadn't forgotten Mike. This fellow recounted the things that Mike had done to show interest in his life, things like bringing him along to a major league ballgame. Mike had no idea he had made such an impression and he was now profoundly moved himself by the gratitude he was being shown.

Here's a Tony Campolo lecture (about 10 minutes long) that contains a couple of really good relevant stories:

The new CT is here! The new CT is here!

2007-02-08T17:28:00.000-06:00

I feel a bit like Steve Martin did in 'The Jerk' when the new phone books came in. He saw his name in the phone book for the first time and carried on as though he'd won the lottery.

Well, I'm not that bad but I am rather excited to have a letter published in my favorite magazine, Christianity Today. You may want to read the article I was critiquing (see "The Mary We Never Knew") to appreciate my letter, but here it is:

Scot McKnight's fantasia on Mary paints a portrait of Jesus' mother that's a cross between Che Guevara and Betty Friedan. His eisegesis is breathtaking. My favorite instance: Luke mentions Caesar Augustus' census, therefore the kind doctor is depicting a revolutionary Mary who spits in the face of Rome by carrying the Messiah.

I don't doubt that Mary's Magnificat is an earnest song of joy that includes praise for Israel's long-awaited deliverance. McKnight's interpretation, however, evokes nothing but a bandoliered young woman standing atop an armored vehicle, shaking her fist at the palace gates and daring Herod to come out and face her baby boy.

Marys' response to Gabriel's birth announcement clearly shows that subversion was not her modus operandi; submission to God was.

Reading it anew for the first time in weeks, I was stricken by just how glib and showy my writing can be sometimes. I e-mailed the letters editor to thank them for printing my diatribe. But I also told him I was now embarassed by my attempt at vitriol couched in wit. He said the other editors who agreed with my position loved it and that it was the most concise statement of all the readers who felt likewise.

Yay, me, I guess.

So I read McKnight's article again and found that it still provoked a passionate response from me. Scot's a recent addition to CT's staff and is intended to give the Emerging movement a voice in evangelicals' flagship magazine. I agree with him on many points and some of his explanations of the Emerging trend are worth a listen but his subjectivism really crossed the line with the Mary as Rebel theory. Now I think I might have been rather easy on him.

However...

Qualifying, conciliatory language may not have been as economical when it came to word count but it may have been more loving. And it wouldn't have been ammunition for him when lecturing his college students on how out of touch and mean-spirited the geezers are.

No excuses. No hiding.

2007-01-29T22:43:00.001-06:00

It's Miss America time again and that always reminds me of one of my biggest heroes of all time: Heather Whitestone McCallum, Miss Alabama 1994 and Miss America 1995. I'm a little biased because she's a Christian, she's jaw-droppingly gorgeous, and she's from Alabama. But I think most people who saw her win the title would agree: Heather is one of the classiest, bravest, and most talented and beautiful women my state and my country have ever produced.

Deaf since age 18 months after a near-fatal bout with meningitis, Heather went on to become a model student, a state orienteering champion, and a competitive ballerina. If you watch her Miss America talent competition, you can see she could have won based on her ballet skills alone. Now add to that the fact that she was deaf and yet dancing in perfect time to the music!

How did she do it? She will gladly tell you: Jesus Christ, her mom, incremental goal-setting, and tons of hard work. She spent A YEAR learning to dance to that song.

Try to keep your eyes dry as Heather celebrates the sacrifice of Jesus Christ while earning the longest ovation in Miss America history.

> (There was a video link here but it's gone now. Sorry. Blame Donald Trump's lawyers.) <

Now, just how hard does your day look after seeing that? Yeah, mine too.

Heather says:

"Helen Keller became a role model of mine when I was in 4th grade. As most people know, she was born in my home state of Alabama and became deaf and blind at around 18 months of age. I felt like she was my sister and I began to take her words and accomplishments very seriously. She influenced me not to use my deafness as an excuse for not achieving my dreams."

Another point Heather makes that hits home with me is that she learned not to hide or minimize her disability. When she first started doing the interview portion of her paegants, she would try to act like her disability did not require any special interaction from the judges, so that she wouldn't be perceived as getting special treatment. When she lost the interview portion and the paegant, she blamed her deafness.

"My family, they watched the videotape of my interview with the judges. They said, 'No, Heather. It's not them. It's not your deafness. It's you. It's how you handled the situation with them. You made them feel unconfortable because they knew something was wrong but you were not being honest with them. You did not explain to them that you are deaf, that they need to talk slowly, and look at you directly so that you can read their lips.' And I thought more about it and my family was right.

So she took a risk:

"I went back to the paegant for a second time. There were different judges and I sat down and told the judges, 'I want you to know I'm deaf. But I read your lips, so when you talk to me, please look at me directly and talk slowly. If I still do not understand you, then write down the question on a piece of paper.' So they did. And they appreciated my honesty and we had a great time. And I won!

"So it's okay to face your problems, to say, 'Okay, I'm going to accept this problem and be honest about it.' Because sometimes this is the only way to achieve your dreams. So now I'm always honest about my deafness ... I always face my obstacles as a deaf person. But I am NEVER ashamed of it because I believe in my heart that my deafness is a blessing from God. It just gives me a different way to hear. I hear with my eyes and with my heart."

How many things are there about me - weaknesses, failures, and struggles - that I don't ask for help with, that I try to hide? And what is it costing me (and others) to keep up the charade? What have I not achieved because I don't want to appear defective?

Thank God for Heather, will you?

View that speech and other video clips here.

What am I packing myself with?

2007-01-26T08:42:00.000-06:00

The U2 lyric at the top of this blog ("You're packing a suitcase for a place none of us has been. A place that has to be believed to be seen... The only baggage you can bring is all that you can't leave behind.") has special significance to me because it reminds me of this verse:

"Because of God’s grace to me, I have laid the foundation like an expert builder. Now others are building on it. But whoever is building on this foundation must be very careful. For no one can lay any foundation other than the one we already have—Jesus Christ. Anyone who builds on that foundation may use a variety of materials—gold, silver, jewels, wood, hay, or straw. But on the judgment day, fire will reveal what kind of work each builder has done. The fire will show if a person’s work has any value. If the work survives, that builder will receive a reward. But if the work is burned up, the builder will suffer great loss. The builder will be saved, but like someone barely escaping through a wall of flames. Don’t you realize that all of you together are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God lives in you?"
(I Corinthians 3:10-16)

If everything about me that has no value will be burned off when I die, what will I have left to show for my life when I reach eternity? It's a sobering question.We hope we are doing things of lasting significance but sometimes that hope is tied strictly to our legacy on earth. We often forget the component that really counts, the buildings we are constructing on the foundation - which is Jesus.

The buildings aren't optional. We're all making one. The only difference is what we're choosing for materials. The temporal junk will dissolve like cotton candy when we pass out of time. But the eternal materials can't be destroyed, they can't be taken away. We couldn't even leave them behind if we wanted to!

"Walk on, walk on
What you got, they can't steal it
No they can't even feel it
Walk on, walk on
Stay safe tonight..."

Lyrics

All aboard

2007-01-25T17:58:00.000-06:00

Withdraw the gangplank. Weigh anchor. Full speed ahead!

Launching into the ocean of self-involved commentary that is the blogosphere, I am fitting out this little boat with my thoughts on God and on my relationship (or lack of it) with both Him and others like me.

I'm sure things will get deep, shallow, obvious, and obscure with varying frequency. Just stick with me and I promise it'll retain a modicum of entertainment value if nothing else.

Welcome aboard!