Ahhhh, my little bloggy friends, I have been amiss in my blogging faithfulness, and for that I apologize. 

So much has happened, so much has not happened.  Maybe I have become complacent in life....and lazy.

Where to begin?

I received a notice in the mail from The City of Birmingham, addressed to me as the registered owner of a 2000 Chevrolet Silverado.

It was for non-payment of a $60 parking ticket.

You see, the problem is, it was issued on a date while we WEREN'T IN BIRMINGHAM.  The notice also informed me that due to non-payment (for this mysterious ticket that I knew nothing about), if I didn't pay within a week, a Warrant would be issued for my arrest.

Well, being the hard-headed person that I am, and knowing full well that I was NOT in the 500 block of 19th Street North on October 15th, I refused to pay it.

After numerous phone calls to some of the most WONDERFUL, CARING, CONCERNED, AND KIND City Employees (insert Sarcasm here)...  It was determined that:

1.  "We can't find a record of the ticket, so I wouldn't worry about it." (Phone call #1)
2.  "Oh wait, here it is...Oh no, my computer system just shut down.  Can you call back tomorrow?" (Phone call #2)
3.  "I don't show any record of a warrant for your arrest.  I would recommend that you call back the day AFTER the deadline and see if one has been issued."  (Phone call #3...I was SPEECHLESS...)
4.  "Oh, here it is.  You claim that it's not legitimate?  Well, you'll need to call the Ticket Office and take that up with them.  We can't help you."  (Phone Call #4)
5.  FINALLY, after a phone call to the Citizen's Advocacy Office for the City of Birmingham (also known as "The MAN got you down, well we can help"  Office), I spoke to a wonderful gentleman who agreed to get it fixed. (Phone Call #5)

It was finally determined that the ticket was issued to a RED TOYOTA, not a Blue Chevrolet, and they dismissed it, with apologies.

What is horribly terrifying is that, due to a small mistake by a meter maid entering in the wrong tag number, had I NOT received the notice (mailed to old address, but forwarded by USPS to Huntsville), the next time I got stopped/pulled over, I would have probably been arrested!

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Let's see, what other "drama" is happening around here?

Tristan is in Houston this week.  Her mom sent her a plane ticket, and she went to spend a week or so with her. 

In the meantime, Grandma is in the hospital getting her knee replaced (Surgery #1 on her "Fix-It" list).  She's doing ok, but not recovering as well as expected.  I think at 78, it would probably be pretty tough on me, too..

I took the kids to the Hospital to see her the other day.  Gabriel loves her SO MUCH and didn't understand why he couldn't climb up  in her lap and love on her.  So, instead, he raised the lid on the portable potty chair in her room, sat down in it, scrunched up his face really tight, and announced, "Look.  I'm old, and I'm going poop!"

The rest of the visit was spent making balloon animals out of rubber gloves.

Looks like she will go to a Rehab facility tomorrow for about a month.  I've got to get with her Case Worker and figure out which one.  If she ends up in a total DUMP, I'll never hear the end of it.  Better yet, if she starts with me, I may just LEAVE HER THERE!

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So, in the absence of Wife and Grandma, I have taken some time away from working and am finishing cleaning the house.

I don't feel like there will ever be any PEACE (both physically and spiritually) in this house until it is under control.  The JUNK removed:  Old bad memories, clutter, dirt, filth, and whatever else I find.

This is what I removed in the first 24 Hours ALONE:



So, now the City of Huntsville Garbage collectors hate me.

Found amongst the "goodies": 

1.  Colt .38 Special Police Issue (about 50 years old).  Turns out that everyone has been looking for it for years.  One brother accused another of stealing it, and the whole time it was wrapped up in a brown paper bag in the bottom of the closet, buried under 400 pounds of clutter.  (Gun NOT loaded, by the way.)

2.  1981 Hot Wheels "Pacer" car, in original packaging.  Yes, the infamous "Pacer."  That car that EVERYONE wanted....along with the Pinto and Gremlin.

3.  VHS Porn.  Apparently someone was into "Swedish Erotica" at some point in time. 

4.  Approximately 400 empty Wal-mart plastic sacks.  All folded very neatly.  I did my part to the contribute to the demise of our Environment and threw them away.  For all you "recyclers" out there, who I fill no doubt catch some crap from on this one:  OK, you come get them and take them somewhere.  I don't have the time, I'm a little overwhelmed here.

5.  A 1940's Monroe adding machine.  Weighing in at about 80 pounds, this behemoth didn't even have eBay value.  The Salvation Army got that one.

6.  A Columbia metal desk from the 60's or 70's.  Remember those old "Steelcase-type"desks that your teacher had in elementary school?  Weighing in at approximately 350 pounds, I somehow managed to strong-arm him (by myself) out of Grandma's bedroom, down the hall, through the den, through the kitchen, out the door onto the Carport, and into the back of my truck.   Salvation Army got that one, too... And, NO, I didn't offer to help unload it.

7.   A dress, complete with tags and 1970's Belk Department Store box.  All one piece, quilted bottom, red velour top (that feels like the material they make Airline seats out of), with shiny buttons.  $14.00 on clearance back then.  Found this one a couple of days ago, before Tristan left for Houston, and she INSISTED on modeling it for me.  Tris is going to kill me for this one, but here it goes:



I LOVE my wife.  She totally could have been on Ozzie and Harriet with that one!

8.  Tax Returns dating back to the early 1960's.  Does the IRS even AUDIT that far back?

9.  5 VCR'S.  Sorry, sports fans, no Betamax, just good old fashioned VHS. 

10.  6 Airline pillows.  Who steals 6 Airline Pillows?

So, that's about it so far.  Next project is to haul everything salvageable into the attic via the pull-down stairs in the hallway, which are conveniently missing the bottom rung, making life just THAT MUCH MORE FUN!

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I'm going to donate Platelets this week.  I found out that you can give Platelets more often than regular blood.  It just sucks a little worse, as it takes a lot longer.

And Lifesouth has a deal with Huntsville Hospital where you get $20 worth of Movie Theater (your choice) Gift Cards every time you donate IN the Hospital.  I think I can donate about 25 times a year if I give platelets.  So, with $500 worth of gift cards, I figure I can take about 60 of my closest friends to the movies by this time next year!

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Life is good.  Church is good.  Friends are INCREDIBLE...very "transparent," which in turn causes us to become transparent.  But, if you know me at all, you pretty much already know that I don't have issues in this department!

Warning:  The following blog is pretty much rated PG-13, or maybe even R.  Sorry, I just feel like sometimes real-life lessons need real-life examples.  If you can't deal with it, click here to go to another site:  www.disney.com

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Can you forgive?

Oh, sure you can.

"Back in college, my best friend, Margaret, screwed my boyfriend behind my back.  But, I forgave her.  We're not really friends anymore, though."

BULL CRAP.  I mean, can you REALLY FORGIVE?

Webster's defines the word "forgive" as:  "to give up resentment of or claim to requital for;   to grant relief from payment of ;   to cease to feel resentment against (an offender)"

So, based on even the WORLD'S VIEW of "forgiveness,"  we see that it means to "give up resentment", or in other words, "to not hold a grudge."


So, let me throw out a few examples  (some based on actual incidents I know of, and some purely fictional), and just ask yourself, could I forgive the person in each of these examples?  I mean, could I really look past it, assuming they showed some remorse and sorrow for their actions, and love them with the same love that Jesus showed?:


You catch your spouse shooting up heroin in the bathroom.  They repent, go to Rehab, but a year later, they get arrested for having  marijuana in the car (with your toddler in the back seat).


Your spouse cheats on you, repents for it, but several years later they get caught with their pants around their ankles with their secretary in the break room at work?


A drunk driver hits your car, killing one of your children.   He goes to jail, and then asks your forgiveness for what he did?

You catch your spouse looking at teen porn on the internet.  They apologize and you think all is well, but then you catch them doing it again a few months later?


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I just finished reading "Redeeming Love" by Francine Rivers.  It is based loosely on the Biblical story of Hosea, which paraphrased is:  The story of a man named Hosea, who is ordered by God to marry a hooker.  She screws around, leaves, cheats on him, basically acts like a giant whore, but yet he keeps loving her, and taking her back.  The story is basically an example of what the country of Israel kept doing to God, but yet his undying love and devotion kept His arms wide open, and kept Him loving the people of Israel.

In the fictional book, God tells "Michael" to marry a specific prostitute, named Angel.  He married her, takes her home, but yet she leaves him time and again.   There is a deeper rooted problem to her unfaithfulness, caused partially by her rape at the age of 6, being forced into prostitution, and some serious psychological trauma.  Angel leaves Michael at one point, feeling incapable of loving him properly, the way he deserves.  She doesn't know HOW to love!  But yet, time and again, he takes her back, because God instructs him not to give up on her.  

Could I do this?  Could YOU do this?

I guess what you have to ask yourself is this, "Is there anything that ANYONE has done to me that is really that much worse than what we did to Jesus?"

I mean, he was rejected, spit upon, took ALL of our sins upon himself, died a horrible gruesome death for us, and he did it ALL out of love?

He took ALL of our sins upon Himself. 

Remember that time you cheated on a History test in high school?  He took that one.

Remember that time you embezzled from work?  He took that one.

Remember that time you got drunk on a business trip and cheated on your wife?  He took that one.

Remember that time you looked at porn on the internet late at night when no one was watching?  He took that one.

Remember that time you smacked the crap out of one of your kids (or even your spouse) out of anger?  He took that one.

Remember that time you got pulled over for speeding and got a ticket?   He took that one.

Does this mean that sin is without punishment?  Absolutely not.  But is it OUR RIGHT to punish and to judge, or is it our OBLIGATION to forgive?

Do we as humans have any right to hold any resentment towards a fellow man when they wrong us, considering that what we did to Christ was so much worse?

Is there any limit on how many times you should forgive?  In Matthew 18:22, Jesus is responding to Peter's question about how many times he has to forgive a person, and He says, "Seventy times Seven."   That's about 490 times.  I think the point is, as long as someone is repentant, keep forgiving. 

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So, maybe there's someone out there today that you need to seek forgiveness from.  Or maybe there's someone out there that you need to forgive.  Or maybe someone that you say you've forgiven, but you need to LET GO of the resentment and bitterness.

Or maybe you're OK with the whole forgiveness "business", and have learned to forgive as Christ did.  But, then again, deep down inside, are you REALLY?

Are you REALLY prepared for the next time that someone does you wrong?  Maybe it will be someone close to you.  Maybe it will be one of those "unforgivable sins."   Can you forgive it anyhow?

"If you read history, you will find that the Christians who did most for the present world were precisely those who thought most of the next.  It is since Christians have largely ceased to think of the other world that they have become so ineffective in this."

-C.S. Lewis-

Tristan's Mom came to Huntsville this weekend.   Had it not been for our move to Huntsville, and the resulting "opening of our eyes" about some things relating to Tris's family, she probably never would have not had the courage/curiousity to make that initial phone call a month ago.

That phone call started it all, and her mom left Houston, Texas at 4:00 A.M. on Friday morning, driving straight through.  Arriving Friday night and staying all weekend.

She got to attend church with us on Sunday, and I just happened to catch this photo opportunity which pretty much sums it all up:

I awoke Monday feeling unusually energetic, and as I was off work, I vowed not to waste it.

SO,  I started with the 450+ asphalt shingles piled up by the curb at the end of the driveway. 

You see, Guma's (Tristan's Grandmother) ex-husband was "general contractor" for 30 years.  Personally, I don't think he was anything but a glorified handyman, as he never really produced an income, but somewhere along the way he self-appointed the title.

He liked to bring home EVERY SINGLE piece of left-over construction "stuff" when he finished a job. 

He left about 6 years ago (who gets a divorce in their 70's anyhow?), and took with him only his clothes and his 25 foot long Oldsmobile Delta 88.

As a result, the last 3 months have consisted, not only of us moving OUR stuff in to this house, but hauling his leftovers off.

In the garage behind the house, there were at least 250 empty, dried-up Sherwin-Williams paint cans, dating back to 1976, a virtual "timeline" of the company's label changes on their paint cans over the years.

Oh, and did I mention?  Paint is considered "hazardous materials" and has to be disposed of properly.

He also left behind about 500 asphalt shingles, of which there were only about 20 of any matching pattern or color.   Even Habitat for Humanity wouldn't take them, and the garbage men left them on the curb 4 weeks in a row.

But, now it's all gone.  

And to top all that off, Guma asked me afterwards if I would mind planting some grass seed where the shingles had been lying on the (already dead) yard.  I informed her that I would, "Look into that."

"OK, Lord, it's Heaven or the Nursing Home.  She's going one of two places.  You pick," I mumbled.

I'm still waiting for Him to get back to me on that one.

Tristan and I then managed to unpack and put away another 5 moving boxes or so of our clothes.  We're kind of down to the "Why didn't we sell this or leave it behind" stuff now.

Put some of it in the attic, along with several things of Guma's that she refuses to part with.  Lord only knows why we need to hang on to the Presto Hot-Air Caramel Popcorn Popper, complete with original box, owner's manual, and picture of a model on the box, wearing bell-bottoms and happily using HER Popper in her Harvest-Gold kitchen!

I guess Microwave Ovens may just be a passing "fad" and we may need to pull the ol' POPPER out some day.

So, after the dust settled this morning (Literally), Tristan and I decided that we should make the most of the rest of our day and wander the Thrift Stores.

There are honestly 15 Thrift Stores within a 10 mile radius of our house, which incidentally doesn't say much about the 'Hood we live in, as they typically don't open these stores in affluent areas.

Finds of the day included:

Brand NEW Target scarves, gloves, hats (found a Goodwill that gets all of Target's clearance merchandise from last year!) for $1.00 each.

A Brand NEW Jansport black Messenger-style laptop computer bag for $5.00.

A Brand NEW white shirt to wear for Catering events at work for $3.99.  It's white and tuxedo-style.  The brand is "Bowie."  Yes, that's right, folks, as in "David Bowie."  Apparently this clothing line never went over real well with the masses of Bowie fans who shop at Target.

Several books, including Billy Graham, RC Sproul, John Piper, and Max Lucado.

Not a bad day in all.

Had lunch together at "Nothing but Noodles."  It's a pretty cool franchise concept that sells....yep, you guessed it.....Nothing but Noodles.   I had Pad Thai and Tristan had Eggplant Parmesan on Angel Hair pasta.

All in all,  a great day spent with my beautiful bride!

Somewhere in all of this bewildering wild ride that we call "our life," Tristan and I have a story to tell.  I'm not sure of the "how's" or the "why's", but I felt God telling me to write a book, and I have for quite some time now.

He hasn't brought us through all the tears, pain, joy and adventures (with one incredible lesson unfolding after another) for nothing.  We have quite a testimony.  And NOT to share it would be a dishonor.  If just ONE person can find some solace in my words,  then none of it has been in vain.

So, I did it.  I broke down and entered the world of high-techery, and ordered a shiny, new laptop computer.

If I'm going to write, I must be able to do it anytime, anyplace.  The kids will be told that the new computer is actually a BOMB, so that they remain fearful of it, and never touch it.   No fears of spyware and viruses that might possibly invade THIS computer, because my daughter decided that she should click "OK" on every single Internet "Pop-Up" ad that appears.

So, once the little Kathie-Lee-Gifford-sweatshop-children in Bangladesh finish assembling my custom-made-to-order pile of plastic, screws, circuit boards and what-nots, I will begin.

I just hope it's waterproof, 'cause I do some of my
best thinking in the bathtub.

So, I get blindsided when I returned home from my daily shift at the salt mines the other evening.  I just love it when my beautiful bride does this, and I now know why, all those years ago, my mother always said, "Wait until your father reads the mail and uses the bathroom before you speak to him."

Tristan says to me, "I found my Mother, and it only cost $1.95."

You see, for those of you who don't know, Tristan's mom and dad divorced when she was 5.   A bitter custody battle ensued, with Tristan being shuffled back and forth from Alabama to Texas.

The details are really sketchy, (and of course we have only had ONE SIDE of the details for the last 27 years), but Tristan's father and family won custody and she hasn't seen her Mother since.

So, she made the phone call.  Her maternal grandmother answered the phone, and Tristan asked for "Linda."

.....and the conversation went something like this:

"Linda?"

"Yes?"

"This is Tristan."

....brief silence..."

and then a soft voice, "My BABY GIRL?", followed by tears of joy from both ends of the phone receiver.

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OK, this is the point in the story when I usually begin crying like a baby.

For some reason, I can only get this far into the story before I break down.  I've told the story about a dozen times over the last 4 days, somehow expecting to be "tough, manly, and callused," but, nevertheless, the result is always the same.

Mother and daughter were reunited after TWENTY-SEVEN YEARS. 

No letters, no phone calls, no emails, no Christmas Cards, nothing.

You see, Tristan was always unsure of the real story, and lived ONLY with the knowledge that she was given by a well-intentioned family. 

Every story told has 2 sides, and for the last 27 years, she only had one.

Tristan has struggled with the questions over the years:

Do I contact her?  Will she still love me?  Will she remember me? 

Her Mother, on the other hand, had stayed absent out of respect.  A deep Respect for Tristan to live her own life, safe in the knowledge that she was in a loving home with a loving family, and knowing that was truly the best thing for her little girl.  Her deep desire to avoid making Tristan's life a living Hell (that would inevitably ensue with Tristan's family if contact had been attempted) overrode the desire to reach out, as bad as the human soul longed to.

So she lived, day after day in the knowledge that ONE DAY, if Tristan so desired, she could reach out and make contact and initiate the relationship again, but she would leave that up to Tristan.

For Linda, this meant letting go.  Letting go, knowing that it would be the most painful thing she would ever have to do.  But she possessed a love that was so deep that it did so nonetheless, knowing that it was the best thing FOR that person.

I looked into the eyes of my 9 year old daughter today, and I simply could not fathom that amount of pain.  If you don't have children, it may not be easy to understand.  Flesh of my flesh, bone of my bones, there is no bond like that between a parent and a child, and I truly believe that bond is even stronger between a mother and child.

Linda last saw Tristan on April 10th, 1981. 

27 years and 6 months to the DAY.

That's  10,045 long nights for a mother and daughter to wonder about each other, and to live in pain and anguish.

14,464,800 minutes.

But, through it all, Linda never forgot.  She never quit loving her "baby girl."  Tristan's baby pictures remained on her wall.  Her Christening gown and baby books remained locked in a cedar chest, never abandoned, never forgotten.

Tristan had a few remaining pictures, and a few memories from a 5-year-old's mind.

She doesn't need details.  Why they divorced, why the custody battle was ugly, why one family did this and one family did that.   None of that matters now.  What difference would it make?  Would it really matter?

For me, that's a tough one.  There's a morbid curiosity part of me that always desires to know the details.  Even though this means setting myself up for heartache and pain at times, I still persist.

And yet I love my wife for not wanting to know this.  And her mother for agreeing not to discuss any of it, unless Tristan asks.

What a beautiful example of LOVE.   A love that transcends all the PAST, all the CRAP, and the UGLINESS, and the CLUTTER.   It strips away all the "Stuff" and all that remains is a RAW, yet beautiful emotion, as pure as any freshly fallen snow.

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And then it hit me Sunday during Communion at church, and I looked over at Tristan and saw it as well.

Linda became a Christian about 15 years ago.

In the last 12 years of our marriage, that had been a concern that Tristan had voiced quite often.

"What if I never see her?"

"What if I never KNOW?"

But, mother and daughter now live safe in the knowledge that, regardless of what happens, regardless of the brevity or longevity of the remainder of this lifetime, they WILL be together again in Heaven.  NEVER AGAIN to be separated.

And, there in the stillness and sanctity of a small church sanctuary, our tears mixed with wine and communion crackers. 

And I DID, for the first time in a long time, TRULY "Do this in remembrance of Me."

"The Krispy Kreme Challenge is an annual race in Raleigh, North Carolina.

Beginning at the NC State Belltower, each runner runs 2 miles to the Krispy Kreme store located
on Peace St. in Raleigh. After downing a full dozen of the famous Krispy Kreme doughnuts, the runner
must run the two miles back. All in one hour."

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THIS ROCKS.  Why didn't I think of this?

I think I may initiate the "Huntsville-Pabst-Chili-Fun-Run" next year.

Dusty.

Yea, we've had our ups and downs over the last 12 years.  Good times....bad times.  Times to cry and times to laugh.  But, despite it all, over and over again, second only to God, she never fails to simply amaze me.

And so here it is, my shameless plug for an incredibly beautiful mind.  A mind that, up until recently, I'd rather keep all to myself.   But now <sigh>, I must share her with the world.

God has shown her that she has so many lessons to share, so much wisdom to impart.  Some of it came painfully, and some of it at quite a cost.  But, sometimes God speaks..........  and we listen.

And God told her to share her experiences with those out there.  Maybe she can be that glimmer of hope to those lost and dying.  Those women that can relate, and who may be going through some of the same trials that she has gone through.

So, (drumroll please), without further ado:

www.TrisGraham.com

Just one more reason I love my wife with every inch of my heart.

So, we've moved to Huntsville (long story, and if you don't know the whole story, there's probably a reason)

Maybe I'll post it all someday.

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The nearest Grocery Store to the house is not the best place to be after dark or before sunrise.

I've been there twice.  Once after dark and once before sunrise.

And both times, I've been hit up for change by a total stranger.  When I declined, they persisted.

NOW, those of you that know me...  Know that I would truly give the shirt off my back to someone in need. 

But both times, the person appeared to be drunk/high (base on alcohol smell, demeanor, gait, etc...)

On the second occasion, the grocery store employee called the police and got into a shouting match as the woman staggered off back down the street...

I guess the old cliche' comes to mind and the real question is:  What would Jesus do?

Would he have picked the lady up and given her a ride, even considering that she was pretty drunk, pretty ROUGH, and acting crazy?

Would he have given her money, KNOWING that she needed it to pick up a six-pack?  Offered to buy her something to eat?  Ignored it and left, like I did?  Stopped and tried to talk to her and used it as a chance to witness?

How much danger do you put yourself in when you have your own safety (as a father and Husband) to think of?

Anyone?  Anyone?  Bueller?

'Nuff Said!

So, I have been informed by a friend of mine that sometimes I come across as somewhat Harsh, Brash, and Self-Arrogant in my writing style (my wording, not his exact words)...

It's like this:  I'm not perfect.  I don't have all the answers.  I don't think that I'm the only one that "gets it" and everyone else around me is confused and lost.  I make mistakes, plenty of 'em.  I don't know it all.  I am a sinner...DAILY.  

BUT, I learn from my mistakes.  And if I have a chance to help others learn from my mistakes and avoid the SAME mistakes, I'll take it.

It's like a bus full of tourists.  They're in a strange town and not familiar with the roads.  The bus driver inadvertently turns the wrong way down a one-way street into the path of an oncoming tractor-trailer.

And there's a guy on the bus that sees the error in judgment.  Which of the following is his best decision?

1.)  He jumps off the bus and secretly hopes the others don't die in a fiery crash.
2.)  He alerts the bus driver and everyone on the bus of the situation and helps lead them to safety.
3.)  He does nothing and perishes along with the rest of the bus-riders.

OK, I know this is a very dramatic example, but let's stop and think about it.

I am not the apostle Paul by any means, nor am I a Saint (just ask my wife on that one!)

But, didn't the apostle Paul WRITE many letters to the various New Testament churches and Christians, letting them know, at times, of the error of their ways?

NO, NO, NO, once again, I am NOT placing myself on the same level with Paul, but if something is very obviously wrong, do we have a moral duty to bring it up, especially if people are not listening?

If it seems so obvious where we (as Christians and the modern-day church) have lost sight of the original goal, purpose, and passion, am I to just sit back and let it all go?  I'm not a revolutionary, by any means, but didn't it take the vision, the guts to stand up for what's RIGHT, and the passion of ONE MAN to bring about change, OVER AND OVER in history?    It's got to start somewhere and with SOMEONE.

And if I do it with the best of intentions, and with genuine LOVE, is it all so wrong?

I found out at the last moment that we were going to be closed ALL LAST WEEK at the Mission.

So, after a little scrounging and digging, I managed to come up with a "last-minute-special" on a little house on Dauphin Island.

And THIS is what makes it all worthwhile!:

Ok, I admit, I'm GUILTY.

Guilty of not following through with commitments.  Guilty of not being available for others in their time of need.

You know, I had a friend who was in a Rehab program a while back.  I said I would go visit him, and I did a couple of times.  Then I became too caught up in my own life to be able to make the time to "be there" for him.  It was a whole 15 mile drive out of my way, and I just flat out justified it by making up excuses in my head.

So, I've come to the recent realization, (and I guess this goes back to my previous blog about telling someone you've been meaning to call them).....

If Jesus were on this earth today, I think He would have been out pounding the streets.  Calling on the elderly, the widows, the sick, the shut-ins, the drug addicts in Rehab, the drunks in jail.

So, I vow from this time on to be a "friend."  If someone legitimately needs me, I will go to them.  Regardless of the time, the inconvenience, the discomfort, I am going to start trying to "be there" for people more.  I want to be that guy that people KNOW they can call, regardless of day or night, and I'll just "LISTEN."  ....  And give out practical advice on the situation, if I have any!

Now don't get me wrong.  In Matthew 7:6, Jesus says, "Cast not your pearls before swine..." 

Paraphrased, I believe what Jesus was trying to say here is that our personal life experiences (the valuable ones that COST you something) are like pearls.   The swine I believe refers to those who are TAKERS (for lack of a better word)... Those who don't appreciate or even CARE what you're doing for them or telling them.  Those who don't appreciate the holy things that are freely given to them from the depths of another person's life!

So, in essence, I guess what I'm trying to point out here is that there ARE instances where God would rather see you SAVE your resources on those that would appreciate it!

If "Bob the Drunk" calls me every weekend from Jail wanting to be bailed out after a DUI, then I think I need to reconsider being at Bob's ever-beckoning call, since he's apparently not learning a lesson, nor getting help for his problem. 

If "Larry the Party Guy" calls me at 2 A.M. on Saturday night and needs help getting his Drugs flushed down the toilet because the Cops are on their way, I may have to reconsider.  I don't think I would consider that a Genuine "NEED."

Disclaimer:  I know NO ONE that I can think of named "Bob and Larry."  Although completely fictional, these names were based loosely on VeggieTales, although, to the best of my knowledge, neither of those two characters are drunks nor addicts.  Come on, man, I had to pick 2 names at RANDOM!

So, I guess my point is, if you're sick and need some help, I'll be there.

If you're depressed and need someone to talk to, I'll be there.

If you're drunk and need a ride, I'll be there (the first couple of times, anyhow!.....hehehehe)

EMOTIONALLY, I'M GOING TO START BEING A TRUE FRIEND.

NOW I JUST HAVE TO FIND SOME! 

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God has been leading me down a path the last couple of years and I didn't even recognize it.  He stripped away the material "stuff".   The house that got foreclosed, the car that got repossessed, the bankruptcy, even friendships  ...and He got us back to our ROOTS.  It's like He's been saying all along, "None of that matters.  NONE OF IT.  It's just 'stuff.'  All that matters is my work."

And He's right! (like He's ever WRONG!)

I honestly could care less if I lived out the rest of my years in a VAN DOWN BY THE RIVER.  As long as my wife and kids have a roof over our heads and we're doing His Work, what difference does it really make how we live?

That's where it is starting to bother me.  As Christians, WHEN did we ever let church become BIG BUSINESS?  Yeah, yeah, I know.  The church has bills that have to be paid, too.

But, I mean, get REAL.  Do we really need all the STUFF?  Did God REALLY say, somewhere along the way, "Please pour millions of dollars into a giant building, and expensive equipment, fancy church-buses, and flashy bling-bling," when there are churches that meet in warehouses, movie theaters, and outdoors?

Let's stop and ask ourselves.  If Jesus were physically present on the earth in this day and age, would he have a multi-million dollar building?  I can't say for sure, but I would bet my LIFE on the fact that the answer would be a resounding, "HELL, NO."

So, where did we get off track?  And how did we get to the point where we worried too much about bringing in the "numbers" that we lost sight of building actual one-on-one relationships with those IN THE CHURCH?

I'm not talking about Sunday School or Pot-Luck Suppers.... Those are all feeble, yet noble attempts, that are literally just band-aids on the bigger wound. 

 I'm talking about our concentration NOT having to be so absorbed by meeting the budget that we actually have time to pick up the phone and call people and say, "Hey, how have you been?  Let's have lunch and talk."

You only have SO MUCH energy and 24 Hours in any given day.  And your Energy and Time are going to be divided amongst your various activities.  WHAT activities are entirely up to you.

I'm talking about all of us as Christians caring so much that we spend more time OUT of the church, loving on people as Christ commanded, than we do IN the church, pouring over the spreadsheets and having brainstorming meetings trying to figure out how to get more people into the church.

Let's take care of the relationships with those we HAVE before we worry about those we don't have.  When those on the outside see how much you are loving on those on the inside, they will WANT SOME OF IT, I assure you, and you won't have to actively pursue them as much!

And I've been guilty, and so has Tristan, of not loving people the way we should.  Of being guilty of the same things that I sit here and accuse the modern-day church of.  But, now we've realized that we can't necessarily change other Christians or how they think.  It's hard, if not almost impossible, to change an entire mindset of a group of people!

I dunno, I guess I just sit and watch people walk into the Mission daily.  People who have NOTHING.  People who are in transition from homelessness to moving into a housing project apartment and having a roof over their heads at night again for the first time in years.  And they're grateful for anything you can give them.   That old pillow that's stained and lumpy?  Sure beats NOT having a pillow under your head at night.

And I've never seen people more appreciative.

We live in such a VAIN SOCIETY.  From our fancy churches to our nice houses.  And we've completely missed the point.

IT DOESN'T MATTER.  It's supposed to be about leading people to God, and loving on them, and taking care of those in need.

And I'm sick.  Sick of the way we ALL have acted. 

And I'm ready for CHANGE.

Originally, the reaction that I got from people was one of, "You left your job?  How will you pay your bills?   What about Health Insurance? 

As Christians, it seems that we say we HAVE FAITH, but yet in reality at times we seem to be so lacking of it!

I understand and appreciate the concern for my well-being, and know that their hearts were in the right place, but where is the FAITH in those questions?  Not a single comment of, "Wow, what a great example of Faith.  Please let us know if there's anything we can do for your family."

It seems that somewhere along the way we were stripped of our ability to THINK for ourselves and lost the most basic of instilled abilities:  To have child-like innocence.  We lost our grip on that blind faith.  Faith that gets you through tough times.  Faith that enables us to move forward when you don't know what the future holds, or what is around the next corner.

Have we become so spoiled as a society that we must plan out every step of our lives, even when God has called us to do His work, and He assures us that He will take care of us, and that it will all "Be O.K."?

Matthew 6:31-35 says: "So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?'  For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them.  But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.  Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself."

Does that mean we're supposed to stupidly squander our money, and not worry about how to pay our bills, take care of our family, etc?  ABSOLUTELY NOT.  God still wants us to be wise stewards of our money.

The Bible simply says, in Luke 17:6, "If you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, 'Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it will obey you."

Do I think that faith combined with the knowledge that you are IN God's Will doing His work is powerful?

Absolutely! 

So, I've come to the realization, that somewhere along the way I became guilty of placing too much confidence and faith in MAN, in Leaders, in Relationships, and in the Establishment.  I let my confidence and faith, which should have rested SOLELY in God, be shifted to mere mortals.  We are all human, fallible, well-intentioned, but yet sometimes lacking in the most basic of child-like emotions.

And so it becomes a paradigm shift of sorts for me.  A realization that my faith and confidence cannot be placed in others.  It cannot be placed in friends and family, nor in the Church, nor in other people, not even my wife.  It can be placed in Christ ALONE.

-----------------------------------------------------------


This week I watched my son work in the Mission's warehouse, no air-conditioning, sweating profusely.  Happily helping, fully cognizant and satisfied in the knowledge that he was helping others. 

Gabriel rides next to me in the truck on occasion to help pick up donations, and he's zealous in his eagerness to help.  He asks me, "When can we go pick up some more stuff for people?"   He's only 4 foot tall, and weighs in at probably 50 pounds, but that little boy will put his entire determination and spirit into trying to help me lift a washing machine into the back of the truck.

And THAT is when it hits home....   It's all gonna be OK.

And while I'm on a tirade, here is another one of my Pet Peeves: 

Please don't say, "I'll pray for you" or "I've been meaning to call you", if you DON'T MEAN IT.  (News Flash:  That's called a LIE.)  Stop and pray for them RIGHT THEN.  If you've been "meaning to call" someone,  and it's been a month, then you would have already done it.  Plain and simple.

Unfortunately, we become so tied up in "canned responses" and cliches that our words seem to lose their effectiveness.

As I arrived down at the Condo pool earlier this week, it was completely deserted, save for the pool cleaning guy, stooped over the filter basket.  I asked him how he was doing.   He was an older gentleman, sweat soaking his shirt, with a look of exasperation, and he said to me, "Not real good.  I'm hot and I'm tired."

And, ya know, that opened the door to a whole new conversation.  One that otherwise would have ended with, "I'm fine.  How are you."   And we both would have gone our own separate ways, knowing deep down inside that we were BOTH LIARS.

So, start today by telling someone something and MEANING IT.

We've been looking for a house to rent out towards Helena/McCalla.  It's time to move.  There's nothing holding us down in the Vestavia area anymore, and after more and more re-exposure to the suburbs, we really miss living out there.  People are people wherever you go, but somehow when you strip away the huge house payments and the smog, something seems to "lift" in people's attitudes and mindsets.  Yeah, yeah, I know, you get the "redneck factor" as an added bonus, too.

I just miss living out away from the noise, away from the complexity of the daily hustle and bustle.  Out where the air is clear, and life is..... maybe, JUST MAYBE..... a little bit simpler and more relaxed.

So, if anyone out there KNOWS of a place that's reasonable, we come with an excellent rental history for the last 5 years, and I'd be more than willing to take on odd-jobs to offset the rent, if needed!

SO, that's my current prayer request.  And God made it abundantly clear that He will provide a place for us when the time is right.  And the price will be right.  And I feel that it will come through word-of-mouth, not the newspaper or a Realtor.   Am I nuts?   Maybe so.   Maybe I just "Get it."

Stay tuned and find out!

I went on my way, with dad's blessing, and in the course of the conversation, when I told him that I was  going to go into Ministry work of some sort, he said, "You know, your mom and I knew about 15 years ago that you would

I snapped this picture a couple of months ago at my parents house when my grandfather was visiting.  He was sitting alone.  Trying desperately to make sense of the tackle box and fishing gear that laid before him.  His mind struggling to tie the knots that he had probably tied thousands of times before. 

Papa was a Veteran of World War II.  He was discharged when the Navy discovered that he had bad eyesight.  He later found out that his same Unit ended up at Pearl Harbor and many of his friends had died.  Apparently God had other plans for him in life.  Plans that NOW, years later, all make sense.

He took the knowledge that the Military had provided him as an X-Ray Technician and immediately put it to use in the outside world.  He started out at the bottom, working in a Hospital, eventually working his way up to Hospital Administrator with a Masters in Psychology.  He worked as a counselor, sharing with others the knowledge and wisdom that God had given him, always willing to try and make a difference in other lives.

Papa has lived a good life.   Married to the same woman for 65 Years.  Father of 3 creative, artistic, talented beautiful children.  Successful in both his personal life, as well as his business life.  Never controversial, always seemingly the pillar of strength in both his family and community. 

You see, my 87-year-old grandfather was just recently released from the Hospital back home in Missouri.  My grandmother isn't really able to take care of him at home by herself and so he's now spending his remaining days in a Nursing Home Rehab Unit.  The doctors didn't give him long to live.

He was the kind of person you could talk to about anything.  Always full of soft spoken, wise advice, rarely raising his voice. 

"This, too, Shall pass" still echoes in my ears as the advice he gave me when I was going through a rough time about 12 years ago.  And it did.  It DID pass, and life blossomed more than I could have ever imagined.

He had a stroke about 8 years ago, and things slowly worsened for him.  What started out as a mild stroke progressed into other health problems, eventually spiraling downward into the last stages of Alzheimer's.  Unable to speak, frustrated, unable to accurately put into words the thoughts that I KNOW are running through his brilliant mind.

So, I found out the other day about the prognosis of "4 weeks to live", and at first, panic and fear set in.  The fear of losing someone you love.  The fear of death.

Then, the other day at work, my dad told me, "You know, Papa told me a few years ago, 'Don't worry about me if I die, I know where I'm going and I'll be in Heaven.'"  And then it really sank in......... all the recent years of living in misery would be over for him.  The misery of merely surviving, unable to adequately take care of himself, trapped in a body that won't cooperate with a mind that is probably racing with thoughts. 

So, I pray.  NOT for God to further extend what has already been a GOOD LIFE, yet, at the same time, I don't pray for him to die. 

I just pray that God will help the suffering to end one way or the other, whichever way He sees fit.  And I pray for those that are left behind, that they will be able to see this as a time of rejoicing and not of sorrow.

So it is inevitable that there is a funeral in my near future, yet I don't intend to go.  Not out of lack of respect, but for what purpose?  To mourn the loss of life of someone who will be in a better place?  Besides, I think my time would be better spent here, keeping things running and moving smoothly.  I think that's what Papa would want for me.

I'm content with the memories I have now.  Not of an empty soul-less body lying in a casket, but the memories of Papa who laughed and smiled.  The Papa that I KNOW I'll see again someday.

And I'm happy.  Not because he's going to die..... that's unavoidable for all of us.  But because I KNOW FOR CERTAIN that he's going to a better place.  A place where he'll once again be able to walk and talk and go fishing again in some great big Heavenly lake stocked with every fish of every imaginable size, shape and color.

I don't know if we'll have internet access in heaven, but if we do, and if by chance you read this blog when you get there...... Papa, please KNOW that you were and ARE truly cherished.  That you lived a life full of purpose and meaning and you touched a lot of lives in the process. 

I LOVE YOU.

Philippians 1:21 (New International Version)

For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.

I am TRULY saddened. 

Due to the Hollywood Writer's Strike, the production of the "Fill-your-mind-with-useless -garbage-when-you-could-be-spending-time-doing-things-more-productive-like-eating-dinner-with-your-family-or -reading-a-good-book" Television show, DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES, will cease immediately, as they are "running out of scripts."

Ok, here's a script for your Season Finale, Hollywood:  

All the women on the show get Divorces, venereal diseases, temporarily lose their minds, and live happlily ever after somewhere else with their Yard Boys, who they've all been doinking on the side, anyhow.  Their kids and husbands get amnesia and forget that they ever existed and are miraculously healed from all the mental scarring that Mommy Dearest caused, and go on to live their own lives with NEW SPOUSES and new mommies and daddies, and no one misses "Mommy The Tramp".

So, that's my tirade for the night.  I'm just sick of some of the trash that is on Primetime televsion anymore.

AND WE WONDER WHAT IS WRONG WITH OUR SOCIETY????

As for the Writers going "On Strike" and for Labor Unions in general, let me ask you this:  If you don't like the pay that you are receiving, and don't feel that it is fair, THEN QUIT.   Why did you agree to it in the first place?  Just walk away with your little writer's pad and pencil, and start over somewhere else doing something that you feel you are adequately compensated for.

All in all, this might be a good thing.... it may be like the SODOM AND GOMORRAH cleansing of Hollywood that this country so desperately needs!

GOOD NIGHT, I'm going to watch Dog The Bounty Hunter call some one a "MotherF*cker" and then pray for their soul and salvation 5 minutes later. 

Now THAT is true entertainment!

I KNEW it, but it never really hit me until recently that my wife actually HAD Childhood Cancer and survived.  I'd heard the stories about what she went through 15+ years ago, seen the scar on her leg where the Osteosarcoma and a portion of the bone was removed, seen the pictures of her with short hair, right after it started to grow back, post-chemo, but I didn't know her then, and I didn't experience it, and it was all so surreal because it didn't happen to me.


Then I recently went to "Kandles for Kids" at Liberty Park with her and the kids, a nightime memorial for survivors and families of those who DIDN'T survive.  And I watched a neighbor family who started www.curingchildhoodcancer.org after they LOST their beautiful 5-year-old daughter, Janie, to Cancer.  And I sat in my lawnchair, and watched my own kids in amazement, and watched the families of victims of childhood cancer with candles lit in the darkness, held HIGH in honor of their own children who didn't make it, and I cried, tears streaming down my face in the darkness, realizing how truly fortunate I was to have Tristan, Windsor, and Gabriel today.


And then I went to church the following Sunday, and the LifeSouth Bloodmobile was parked out front.  And I heard the still, small voice of God and He said to me, "Give blood, I did. It'll be alright, I'll hold your hand."


I went inside the church and found Tristan, and grabbed her hand, and blurted out, "C'mon.  Don't ask, just follow me."


I guess I should back up....  About 15 years ago, I went to Paramedic school, and part of our training was to practice starting IV's on each other.....  To make a long story short, I had a bad experience with a fellow student jabbing a needle in my arm for almost 7 minutes (without managing to find a vein, but finding EVERY bone, tendon, and piece of cartilege in between..)  I almost passed out and the Instructors eventually had to step in and stop the exercise.


Ever since then, I can TAKE blood, SEE blood, or watch blood being drawn, just DON'T bring a needle near me.

So I went inside the Bloodmobile and gave blood.  I turned my head and never looked down at the needle or the donation bag.  And I felt peace.  One quick glance at Tristan, who stayed by my side through the entire procedure, and the look in her eyes was worth it all.  

And the rest of the day I felt relaxed and an incredible sense of euphoria.  I KNOW it was partially from the fact that I had just lost 1/8 of my blood, but it was an incredible, peaceful feeling. 

3 weeks later, I got my Blood Donor Card in the mail, complete with my "blood type" (which I had never known), and discover that I am type O-Negative. 

Less than 7% of the population has this blood type and it is a "Universal" Blood type, meaning that ANYONE, regardless of their blood type, can use type O-Negative blood.

And it's like God whispered to me and said,
"See, I told you I'd hold your hand."

So, our Beta fish, Cosmo, disappears.  Just disappears.  There one night, and gone the next morning.  Not beaten up and left for dead, not mangled and mauled by a late night intruder, and he didn't hang himself in his cell.  He just disappeared into thin air.

Empty bowl, clean water, no signs of foul play, and the cat was acting cool and nonchalant (Suspect #1).

Tristan and I decided to just leave the empty bowl where it was on the kitchen counter for about 2 days, hoping the kids wouldn't notice.

WRONG.  Windsor discovers the fish is gone and has a major meltdown, mommy explains that the fish "died", and all hell breaks loose.  Fortunately I'm at work at this point.

So, I'm thinkin', "God, what good could possibly come out of this one, and did you really HAVE to let the cat eat the FISH!?"

Then someone at work jokingly says to Tris, "Maybe the fish got raptured," and THAT'S IT.  It all hits home.

This is the perfect opportunity to explain the Rapture to my kids.  Which will probably lead into a deeper discussion of Heaven and Hell.  I'm sure this will include a few questions by my six-year-old son, Gabriel, about whether or not there will be blood and guts, swords, guns and football in Hell, too.

But, WOW, so the death of a fish leads to a chance to witness to my own children on a deeper level about God, and opens up all kinds of doors.

Man, what an amazing fisherman that God guy is.

WOW, so much has been going on lately that I haven't had time to write and don't hardly know where to start!  So, I guess I'll just number the recent events (and rants/raves) in my life in chronological order and start like that:

1.  WORK.  Started the new job, and all is going SMASHINGLY well (I always wanted to use that word.)  I'm getting used to the drive again, and the Astro van is absolutely wonderful on the highway.  Captains chairs, armrests, cruise control, and I sit up high enough to look down on people.  I mean, what more could I ask for!?!?... besides getting my A/C fixed, of course, and the fact that it is TRULY an ugly vehicle.

2.  HONDA ELEMENT.  We bought Tristan a new car.  Ok, not NEW, but NEW TO HER and not really that old.  A 2003 Honda Element with about 60,000 miles on it.  Sorry, the Mercury Sable had to go...  As much as I despise car payments, we managed to get a fair amount of Trade for the Sable and put a little money down, and we now have a VERY SMALL payment, which we plan to try and pay off in one year!  The Sable was having numerous problems that were going to lead to some big repair bills in the near future, and besides, Tris's been a real trooper and driven a LOT OF JUNK over the last 5 years or so, so it was time for her to have something NICE, DEPENDABLE, SAFE and RELIABLE, and something that she actually LIKED on top of that!

3.  EN FUEGO.  We went to the EN FUEGO Concert (Spanish for "On Fire") with the Middle Schoolers from M'top a couple of weeks ago.  That's a big old "Christian Woodstock" concert in Verbena, Alabama (I think "Verbena" is Spanish for "Between nowhere and Hell.")  We were fortunate enough to have a brand new Charter bus to ride down on, though, (which looked real nice parked next to the Podunk Baptist Church's 1984 Dodge Ram 16-passenger van, which was a cross between Doo-doo brown and grey primer in color.)

It was absolutely incredible.  The bands were awesome, and the weather was great.  It rained on the way down, but quit by the time we got there.

A couple of observations, though: 

a.  Don't eat "Festival Food" unless you have a stomach of lead, or you enjoy diarhhea.  "Alligator On A Stick" is probably not REAL ALLIGATOR when served by a man with 4 teeth from the back of a pickup truck.....  <meow>....

b.  Parents, PLEASE don't let your little girls wear shirts that say "Jesus is my Homie" if the bottom half of their attire is going to scream "LOOK AT MY ASS".   Either Jesus can be your "Homie" or Daisy Duke can make your shorts, you're gonna have to pick ONE OR THE OTHER.

c.  Fanny Packs.  This is the 2nd major Christian event I have been to in the last 2 years where I saw WAY too many fanny packs.    I really don't want to see you reach down and pull a snack out or your "crotchal-waistal-region" and EAT IT.  Yes, they are convenient, I admit, but so are BACKPACKS.

d.  I am getting old.  I was the only one at the entire concert of 31.5+ Million people that brought a Poncho and a lawn chair. .....  I guess the only thing left now is for me to buy a fanny pack...

I was, however, the only one who was both SITTING DOWN and DRY. 


4.  Vestavia Hills PTA.  I have decided I have officially written my LAST check to the Vestavia Hills PTA.  I wrote 2 checks on the 6th of August for the kids' school registration, and they were not cashed until August 30th.  This resulted in my excessive swearing when trying to balance my checkbook for 3 weeks.

Dear PTA:  You don't NEED my money.  Quit saying you do.  People that need money DEPOSIT THE CHECKS that people write them.  I understand the excuse that you "only make one large deposit once all the checks are in", but what about the INTEREST you could have been drawing on that money the entire time (however small it might be)??? 

Sorry, you will get no more of my money.   Not one dime.....

Oh well, at least my kids will no longer have to sell gift wrap and Christmas apples/oranges to relatives who only buy it because they feel obligated.

5.  Football and Cheerleading.  It is once again time for our wonderful Alabama fall sports programs to start back up.  Windsor had cheerleading pictures on Sunday afternoon at Vestavia High School.

Did you know that the air temperature is almost 15 degrees HOTTER on an astroturf football field than it is in the surrounding stands?  Seriously, no lie.   Miserable.

And I stand and watch the overbearing mommies and their precious little Jon Benet Ramsey daughters, and I want to get violently ill...oh, wait, maybe that was the heat from the ASTROTURF.

But, alas, we ALMOST got Windsor out of cheerleading this year.  Then she decided at the last minute that she wanted to do it after all.  <sigh>



6.  SWEEPSTAKES.  I am ALL ABOUT entering contests and saving bottle caps, etc, etc..   So, last week, Tris and I were LITERALLY down to our last 20 dollars or so for the week, without having to dip into savings, which I won't do unless it is a life and death emergency.  Given, thanks to our wonderful Dave Ramsey budget, all of our bills, groceries, gas, etc..  was already paid for that week, but still, I like to have a little "buffer" for unexpected expenses.

One afternoon at work, my dad hands me a couple of envelopes and says, "Oh yeah, here, these came to the store and were addressed to you."   Well, apparently, I had entered the Mountain Dew Summer Sweepstakes at some point over the summer, and the envelopes each contained a check for $25.00!  Not only did feel like I hit the lottery, apparently I did it TWICE.  So, I'm chalkin' that one up as "The Jesus Lottery."\

So, here I am on the 4th of July morn'...The kids are already outside playing, I'm on cup of coffee #3, and all is quiet and peaceful.

And then it comes blaring out of the TV, quiet at first, then louder, building to a crescendo...  My first thought is that the fire alarm is going off, maybe there's a tornado outside, or possibly an AIR RAID.

No wait, it's John Hagee preaching, red-faced and slightly resembling a blowfish.  And I start to watch, mesmerized.  I guess it's been a while since the "old Baptist days" of my youth, and I forgot what it was like to be yelled at by a Minister.



And I start thinking.  Our pastor, Dr. Bill Elder of Mountaintop Community Church in Birmingham, Alabama (SHAMELESS PLUG for my church) doesn't yell, at least not very often.  He is mild-mannered and soft-spoken, yet beautifully eloquent.  

So, here's what's going through my head this morning:

I guess it takes all kinds.  Maybe the people of John Hagee's church in San Antonio, TX are hard-headed and need to be yelled at to understand the point.  Maybe that's a Texan-thang, and everything REALLY IS big in Texas. Maybe those cowboy hats are like "John Hagee Protectors."  I'm sure that's just his personal style, and he's done it for so long that it's become second place, and he doesn't even realize he does it.  His church appears to be big enough in size, so apparently it's working for some.

I'm just not a big fan of the "Hell, Fire and Brimstone" style.   Do "unchurched" people find themselves drawn to a church where they know they're going to get screamed at?  When they flip on the TV on Sunday morning and see some guy hollering and shouting, does that in ANY WAY make them want to get up, shower, get dressed, and drive to Church?   Or would they be more likely to sit down and listen to a Teacher-type, who will teach them, explain it, and show them The Way out of love and compassion?

Is the INTIMIDATION FACTOR really necessary??

So, do they teach this speaking-style in Seminary?    How to YELL OUT the strong points, and then back down on the minor points?  How to "accent" every other syllable?  Do they have "HOLLERING FOR JESUS 101" Classes?

How would Jesus have taught?  Would he have SCREAMED out the Sermon on the Mount, or would he have been more timid, choosing instead to teach with kind words, a soft manner, and love?

So, hats off to John Hagee.  Buddy, you just might want to check in with your Doctor on a regular basis, I suspect your blood pressure is probably through the ROOF.

But, please, if it's workin' for ya, just keep on SCARIN' THE HELL OUT OF PEOPLE.

Disclaimer:  No representation is made that the quality of Religious services to be performed is greater than the quality of services performed by other Churches.  The views and opinions published on this website are my own and do not necessarily represent the views of any of the Businesses, Churches, or People mentioned herein.  If you don't like what you read, feel free to Post a Comment or click away to another page!

OK, so I'm leaving the "appliance parts warehouse Manager" job.  The company has been having financial difficulties for a while, and I've been kind of hanging in there to see what would happen.  No one in the company would listen to my advice on how to turn the company around, which was basically, "Pay the BILLS."

In the meantime, unbeknownst to me, God had bigger and better plans.

Without going into great detail, totally out of the blue, my dad approached me and we sat down and talked, and effective tomorrow, I will now be BACK at The UPS Store.....(with a few changes).  

One specific change that I'm stoked about is that I will be back at the Campus store with my dad and brother.  We always had fun working together, making fun of each other and cutting up.

So, in light of the big event, I treated myself to a new vehicle.  Something with a few hundred-thousand miles left in her, that wasn't TOTALLY ugly (unless you ask Tristan's opinion), that would double as a kid-hauler on weekends, that RAN GOOD and had a radio (please see previous vehicles).

So, here it is, The PIMP VAN:



I traded the Cargo Van (mentioned in the previous blog) in on it.  Anyone that knows me, knows that in any given year, I will probably go through AT LEAST 5 cars.  BUT, no car payments, and I usually either break even or make a little money off the cars when I sell them!

So, life once again is good.  Sorry, no amusing anecdotes tonight, as I really am tired and don't have my wits about me.  Maybe another night when I'm a little more rested!

Goodnight to all....  and, YES, I WILL let you ride in my van!   bahahahahahahahaha......

I think I'm in a slump right now.

1.  Work is OK, unless you count the fact that the owner of our company doesn't know how to run a business, and the only solution to all of our Corporate problems apparently is CUTTING OUT EVERYONE'S OVERTIME.   Not selling his Porsche to pay the bills, or maybe not maintaining a Race Car at the Company's expense.   Nice, real nice.

Anyone out there HIRING?  I just need decent benefits, and the ability to make MORE MONEY when I MAKE YOU more money.   I don't enjoy busting my butt, trying to turn your company around (and even sometimes being successful at that), and then being rewarded with NOTHING and having all my overtime taken away, in addition.  PAY YOUR EMPLOYEES IN DIRECT RELATION TO WHAT THEIR VALUE IS TO YOUR COMPANY.  PERIOD.  IT'S REALLY SIMPLE.  THEY'LL BE LOYAL AND STAY WITH YOU IF YOU DO, I PROMISE. 

Why is this such a hard concept for Business Owners, and how do they manage to stay in business without doing it !?!?!?

No, I don't do Sales.  Not interested.

2.  Several friends recently asked me to do them favors, and each time I just COULDN'T DO IT.  I really couldn't.  I had made prior plans with my wife and kids, and am trying to be a better dad and stick to my word.  This actually happened THREE TIMES in the last week.  And each time I felt like crap for not doing it, and then, to make myself feel worse, I convinced myself that Jesus would have done ANYTHING FOR ANYONE.  Or would he?!?!?

3.  Have you ever known someone who brought up the SAME THING from their past, OVER AND OVER again and just wouldn't let it die?   Get over it, it's over.   Grieve and MOVE ON and don't mention it again.  NO ONE REALLY WANTS TO HEAR ABOUT IT AND YOU'RE MAKING YOURSELF LOOK PATHETIC.   Well, that's what I wanted to scream, but I just smiled (and gave them a Vegamite sandwich.....)

4.  I broke down and bought a new computer.  Our last 4 computers have either been hand-me-downs or old computers that I pieced together.  The current computer works fine until you shut it off, then it takes 2 hours of trying to re-boot to get it to come back up.  It's on it's last leg, and my patience has worn out.   The new one will have a 22" Flat Panel LCD monitor.  SWEET!

My 8 year old asked me which part of our budget the computer was coming out of.  Tristan and I nearly fell out of our chairs in amazement.  She was worried that it came out of the "New House Fund." 

NO, it wasn't in the Dave Ramsey budget, but I considered it an "Emergency."

5.  I started listening to the SwitchFoot song, "This is Your Life."  It says, " This is your life, are you who you want to be? This is your life, is it everything that you dreamed that it would be when the world was younger,
and you had everything to lose?"

WOW.  I have to start thinking about that one.  I really want to be a Missionary, but I'm not sure how or where to start on that one.  I've been praying about it, though.

6.  I bought a cargo van last week.   It was cheap, and everyone needs a van.  Bumper Sticker I'm considering:  "NO, I WON'T HELP YOU MOVE."

SERIOUSLY THOUGH, I WILL help you do whatever you need for $50 an hour (this includes Gas).  One Hour MINIMUM.  So, just let me know if you need help.  Otherwise, I'll probably sell the van later this month and make some money off it. 

I guess that's about it in my fun life.

 Life is good, the money is hanging in there, and the home life couldn't be better. 

I've decided that my next job will be only working from 4 A.M. until Noon everyday, as I REALLY enjoy laying out by the pool with the kids.  Sun is relaxing, and it has Vitamin D in it, too.  Vitamin D builds stong bones, and since I'm lactose intolerant, I need all the help I can get in that department.

I'm too young to break a hip.

It's kind of interesting.  I can track Statistics on my blog page, and one of the statistics that I can view is from "Referring pages."  (i.e.....How did people get to my blog page and from WHERE?)

One of the referring pages was from a Google search on the phrase, "Christians Need to Lighten Up."

Apparently back in June of 2006, I was blogging about the Cruise we took and I said that some Christians needed to lighten up. 

Well, I hope whomever was searching that phrase on Google found what they were looking for (and THEN SOME!)

--------------------------------------------

Today is Sunday, and we went to the 9:00 AM service at Mountaintop.  It was good stuff about Brokenness and Healing.

It's a rainy, lazy kind of Sunday and I'm torn between taking the kids to the Library and visiting the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute (which is FREE on Sundays).

My kids are color-blind.  Windsor refers to Frances in her class as "the boy with brown skin", not "Black" or "African American."   We've never pointed out differences in skin color, and so they don't know any different.  I don't know if I can explain it all to her in one afternoon, though, not to mention trying to explain hatred, racism, and segregation and why some people are that way.

We took the kids to "Whole Foods Market" today, which recently opened here in Birmingham.  Whole Foods claims to be the "World's Leading Natural and Organic Foods Supermarket."

I have come to several conclusions after my trip to Whole Foods Market, conveniently located in Mountain Brook, home of healthy people and fruitcakes:

1.  If you drive a Mercedes, you will park VERY carefully, so as to not get it damaged.....UNLESS there is only ONE parking spot left in the entire Whole Foods parking lot and it's in between a Monster Truck and a Ghetto sled, and it's about 2 feet narrower than a normal parking spot. 

THEN, and ONLY THEN, can you make an exception to the above rule, and hold your own Gumball Rally with your fellow Mercedes drivers to see who can get the parking spot first.

2.  I like pesticides.  I think they probably help build our immune systems.  I mean, mosquitoes still exist, even after our attempts to eradicate them, and they've come back meaner and stronger.  So, I don't feel it necessary to pay twice the price for "Organic," when "Pesticidic" seems to suit me just fine.

3.  Rich people and Healthy people are NOT generally ATTRACTIVE people.  Apparently their beauty is on the inside, or maybe they keep it in their Prada handbags and only use it on special occasions.

4.  Whole Foods is a fun afternoon, but generally overpriced and overrated.  I fed my kids lunch just by walking through twice and trying all the samples.  I got out of there for a $1.49 coconut (I don't think it was organic, who would spray pesticides on a Palm Tree??), a 50¢ Paul Newman Chocolate Bar (Paul Newman thinks of EVERYTHING!), and some Mineral Water (it's sterile and I LIKE THE TASTE!)

So, we left there and went to Winn-Dixie, because they had Pot Roast on sale, and saw Don Siegelman.  I didn't have a clue who he was, but told Tris, "That guy looked familiar, and he smiled at me very politely."

She informed me that I was an idiot, and "That was Don Siegelman, you ding-dong."

Maybe he was there for the Buy-One-Get-One-Free Pot Roast, too.

BONDAGE, WHIPS & CHAINS, CALL ME EDNA.

 If you came here looking for S & M, sorry to disappoint you.  But now that I have your PERVERTED, SICK, TWISTED LITTLE MIND curious, feel free to read on.  Jesus loves everyone, even PERVERTS.

--------------------------------------------

I've decided that there will be nothing left in our family by the time everyone dies off and it trickles down to me, and I accepted that a long time ago.  It wouldn't make sense to live my life with the anticipation of an Inheritance.

3 Generations will be gone and there will probably be nothing to show for it.  That's just the way life is, and now as a Father, Husband, and the leader of my family, it is up to ME and myself alone to lead the way and break any Generational Bondage.

One of my siblings the other day gave my parents a list of my parents' possessions that they desired to have.   My parents were in the process of Moving, and this particular person presented my parents with a LIST of things that they wanted.   Not only do I find that to be just WEIRD, I think it is selfish, rude, and sad that people put that much emphasis on material possessions.  

Tristan and I stopped and looked around us the other day at friends and family who are in debt up to their ears, and we decided that it was sad.   Sad that people are in Financial Debt so bad that it probably seems like there is no end in sight.  You know the funny thing is, we decided that people probably look at us funny because of how we live and a few of them probably look down on us or feel sorry for us.   And I think it's hilarious, because we couldn't be HAPPIER.

You see, we FOUND financial freedom.  It didn't come in the form of a large inheritance or a great-paying job or a big house or a fancy car.   It came in the form of being able to sleep at night because you don't have bills hanging over your head.  It came in the form of living the simple life and being GENUINELY HAPPY while doing it.

Work is good.  I am still working in between the Adult Bookstore and the Ghetto Nightclub, right down the street from the ABC Store and Church's Chicken.

I like my job.  It's tough at times, but challenging.  Enough so that I don't get bored.  Our company is in the process of closing our main Corporate Office/Warehouse, and moving it all over to my location.  So it will be double the headaches, responsibility, and workload, but I like it that way.  Overtime Pay has been good to me, also.

Tristan is back at Church working in the bookstore and she is also working as the "Administrative Assistant to the Director of the 18-20Somethings College and Career Ministry."  Ok, I don't know her OFFICIAL titles, but she's super hot and sexy and she's good at what she does, and I love her, and that's all that matters!

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We have decided to put off trying to buy a house/condo for a year or so.  We'll work on saving up some more money in the meantime.

You know, it's funny, I listened to someone (a WEALTHY and respected businessman) tell me the other day, "You've GOT to have credit.  You'll always want to have credit cards, and you'll ALWAYS have some debt."

HORSE CRAP.

We haven't had credit cards for the last 4 years.  We've paid CASH for everything.  Has it stopped us from buying anything by not having a Credit Card?   YES.

It probably stopped us from buying a Plasma TV or Furniture that we really couldn't afford.  That's IT.

I agree that decent credit is helpful when buying a home, but it is NOT ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY.

Oh, but what about emergencies, you ask?  What if something horrible happens and you need a credit card for emergencies?  More Horse Crap.

Put some money in the bank in an "Emergency Fund."  Then if the car breaks down, or the hot water heater blows up, you just pull some money out and use it to fix it.  You'd be amazed at how much LESS STRESSFUL a catastrophe can be when you know you already have the money set aside to fix it!

"But I get SkyMiles and bonus rewards for using my Credit Cards," you say.    SUPER.  GOOD FOR YOU.   You paid $2,500 in interest charges last year and you got a $50.00 Olive Garden Gift Card and a roundtrip airfare to Sioux City, Iowa.  SUPER.  Let me know how that works out for you. 

I got a $50.00 CVS Pharmacy Gift Card from my Credit Union for using my DEBIT CARD last year.....and it cost me NADA, ZILCH.

Why should you listen to me, you ask?  Why should you listen to someone who went through foreclosure, bankruptcy, etc, etc....?  

I don't really care if you do.  All I know is that it WORKS FOR US.

Since I haven't blogged in so long, I think I will blog various random nonsensical thoughts and spread them all out in seperate blogs to make it look like I've been faithful in my daily blogs.... A lot like random MACHINE GUN FIRE in a drive-by shooting.

So, here goes:

-------------------------

I had to put the 1990 Toyota Camry out to pasture.  265,000+ miles and there were just too many little random things that were starting to get on my nerves that I didn't feel like spending the money to fix.  Like....I dunno.....AIR CONDITIONING, A STEREO, and a MUFFLER.

I just couldn't take one more summer of singing out loud (to my OWN tune) in a hot car that sounded like a Sherman Tank.

So, I got a 1992 Suzuki Sidekick, similar to this one:





Just like before, It's OLD.  And it's PAID FOR.  And it needs a few minor repairs.  BUT,  it has Air Conditioning, and a CD Player, and it's fun, sporty and practical. 

And my wife claimed it.  So, I'm back in the Mercury Sable.

I don't care.  Both cars have A/C and Radios.  I'm happy.

Wow, It's been a while, sports fans......

I've been here, there, everywhere.  I've been near, I've been far, but always just a phone call away.

Ok, so we sent the kids away to Huntsville for Spring Break.  Tris's Grandma wanted to keep them for a few days, and the kids wanted to go, so....what the heck?  I mean, if you were 5 and 8 Years old, wouldn't you want to go somewhere there were NO RULES?

So, we pick up the kids in Huntsville after 5 days at "Camp Grandma", and Frances looks at me and flatly states, "You need a bigger freezer at your house."

hmmmmm...where on EARTH is this one going?

She continues, "Your kids ate 5 half-gallons of Chocolate Ice Cream in the last 4 days."

I'm speechless.  My son is lactose-intolerant.

God love our Senior Citizens.  Someone has to.

---------------------------------------

On the way to Huntsville, we stopped at Stuckey's.   You know, the old red-roof, home of Pecan Logs, with the Dairy Queen inside of it?  I think they've been around for 100 years.

And there's this woman in line at Dairy Queen, and she's harassing the 4 sixteen year old guys that work there because they can't DIP her cone in chocolate like the picture shows (something about the ice cream machine making the ice cream too soft for proper dipping...)

She's extremely pissed and she's being really ugly with these 4 kids, who obviously are not Ice-Cream-Machine-Technicians, and I start laughing.  Partially because it's so FUNNY that a middle aged woman, well-dressed, and "normal" looking is making such a scene, and partially because I realize that I am surrounded by Yankees, travelling up Interstate 65 on their way back to Michigan, Ohio, and Iowa after getting WAY TOO SUNBURNED.

And they're all angry, and they're all rude, and they're all sunburned.  And it's JUST FUNNY.

Funny because we get called "Rednecks" in the South and we're told we act horrible and embarassing, and here are all these Yankees, the same ones who COULD NOT DRIVE on the Interstate for the last 50 miles.  Probably some of the same ones who ran me off the road 10 minutes ago in their big Tahoe with the Michigan license plate, the "Big Mac" luggage carrier on the roof, and "P.C. or Bust written with shoe polish on the back window.

So, I guess what I'm trying to say is..............    Whether we want to admit it or not, we are all PRETTY MUCH THE SAME.  We've all got a little "redneck" in us somewhere. 

We all were made by the same God, in His image, Bad-drivin', Ice Cream spittin', Sunburnt and ALL.

And you know that He has got to be sittin' back, watching the freaky lady in Dairy Queen making a scene, and just shaking his head in amazement.

Christmas went OK this year.  I was a little worried how everything would go, in light of my last blog, and any possible misunderstanding from family.

Geoff called me Christmas Eve morning (Sunday) and asked if I could pick up Becky (also known as "Grandma") from her apartment in north Birmingham.  Grandma is our fearless leader when we go downtown to work in Linn Park/Shelters/Etc..  She was formerly homeless herself, and so she knows the ropes, and a lot of the people, as well.  She acts as a great liason between the folks down there and any of the "well-wishing Volunteers" who don't always understand.   Windsor and Gabriel think she's awesome, and she adores them, too.

Some wonderfully kind vandal was kind enough to break Geoff's car window out on Saturday night, so, needless to say, he was running a little behind Sunday morning, once he discovered it.

Windsor and I picked Grandma up and then ran back to the house and got Gabe and Tris.  We all 5 headed to Mountaintop to meet up with about 50 other people to go downtown and hand out Coats, sandwiches, and hats with the "Hands and Feet Ministry."

I had about 6 or 7 Bibles that were given to me by Jimmy that runs the Flea Market that I go to.  He told me that he didn't believe in selling the Bible, and that I could have them if I found them a good home.  Windsor and Gabriel covered up the people's names inside of them with stickers and Christmas decorations, and made them "just like new."

We gave a few of the small, pocket-size New Testaments to Geoff to give out, and then I had the privilege of watching my 2 kids give them away to a couple of the guys down at the Firehouse Shelter. 

Guys who towered above them like Giants.  Guys who were 10 times Gabriel's age.  Guys who were callused and worn, who had no doubt suffered numerous trials and heartaches, taking the Word of God from the hands of the innocent, who have not known anything but warmth, love and security.  There's just something beautiful and metaphoric about that.

When we left there, we went to the 11:00 A.M. Christmas Eve service at church.  It was a great service.  Not flowery or show-offy.  Some beautiful music, great lights, and an AWESOME message that hit home.  Our pastor, knowing that Christmas is the only day that some people come to church, and that sometimes you only get ONE SHOT, gave a Christmas Eve sermon that included Salvation. 

We let Windsor stay in the service with us, rather than go downstairs to the Children's Department....  And I watched her little eyes as she LISTENED and LEARNED.

After church we went to Moe's (Welcome to MOE'S!!!!)  with Grandma and Geoff.  Tris, the kids, and I had chipped in with Geoff to buy a Women's Devotional Bible for Grandma, because her last Bible "disappeared" when she was staying in the shelter.  I think it really meant the world to her, because she looked like she was going to cry while she was hugging everybody.

Then off to my parents house to open presents.  I was really impressed with how smoothly it went. 

Windsor got a digital camera/video camera, and Gabe got a digital camera.  Tristan and I got a HUGE Karaoke machine, with built-in TV Screen, 2 microphones, that also doubles as a TV or DVD Movie Player.

We had to leave my parent's house early to be at the Jimmy Hale Mission at 7:00 PM.  My good friend, Paul, was speaking at the Christmas Eve service, and several of our musical-talented-types were performing.  We arrived a little late, due to the rain, and it was PACKED.  No seats in sight.  Until 4 of the guys realized that Tristan and the 2 kids were standing in the back, and politely got up and gave them their seats.  We tried to refuse, but they insisted, and it nearly broke my heart.

We got there just in time to hear the last half of the last song, and they were JAMMIN'!!  The place burst into applause and hollering when they were done.

Then Paul preached about how we are all "losers", and how even the shepherds on Christmas Eve so many years ago were "losers."  About how we may be rich or poor, black or white, it doesn't matter, we are all the same.

It was an awesome, awesome day. 

And then Christmas morning, it hit me.  I watched my 2 kids take pictures of EVERYTHING in sight with their new cameras.  I watched my daughter sit (on the kitchen counter), with her leg crossed like a lounge singer, with the new Karaoke machine propped up on the kitchen table, singing her little heart out (and she was GOOD, too..)  And it hit me.  Here I was, all worried about what on EARTH I was going to do with a Karaoke machine, and now I had 1,000 uses for it.

Geoff used to take a projector down to the Firehouse Shelter to show football games.  What if we did Karaoke?
Windsor got a guitar for Christmas and is going to take lessons.  What if she had a Karoke machine to play along with?
Tristan and I work with the College class at church.  What if we had a Karaoke party?

So, I realized that in all my selfishness and sheltering protection of my children, that maybe, just maybe, I almost missed out on several opportunities for them to bring joy to others.

1.  See both of my children get married.
2.  Swim naked on a beach in Hawaii.
3.  Make a Million Dollars and give it away.
4.  Watch my car turn 500,000 miles.
5.  Own my own home, free and clear.

Hello Dear Reader...(BOTH of you.)  I want to apologize for not blogging lately.  I have been caught up in the momentum of the Holidays and have been quite the social butterfly.

Where should I start?

Tristan and the kids and I decided that we wanted to be selfish this year at Thanksgiving and so we had Thanksgiving with some friends...with NO family involved.  And it was simply lovely.

Don't get me wrong, I don't have anything against my slightly-dysfunctional family or my wife's.  We just felt like doing what we wanted to do for once.  Big mistake with Tristan's 78-year-old Mom.  On the other hand, I don't think my family noticed I wasn't there.

We had a BLAST.  The drive home only took 5 minutes, the kids behaved wonderfully, and everyone went home happy.  No one fought or made snide little comments (as my family tends to do, with our strange sense of humor.)

I have NO REGRETS, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

FAST-Forward TO THE UPCOMING CHRISTMAS FESTIVITIES:

We're going on the day of Christmas Eve downtown to one of the shelters to give out Gloves, Socks, Coats, and Sweaters to the homeless.  It's called the "Hands and Feet" Ministry.  My kids are excited and we already have one HUGE box full of mostly sweatshirts. 

Then, off we go in our sled, over the river and through the woods to family's house to eat an excess of food, and open an excess of Christmas presents.  (And with that comment, I will forever be labeled as "ungrateful.")

And then off to the Asylum to see Tristan's Dad and step-mom and have our kids open LITERALLY DOZENS of presents, one at a time, taking turns, so that everyone sees everything, and no one misses anything.  More presents than we can fit in the car.  More presents than we want or NEED.

Don't get me wrong, it's just not me anymore.  I WANT to do something nice together with my family, I just don't know why we can't go do something nice for people who don't have much instead, or just mail the money to some random needy family.

Why do my kids need nice big expensive toys?  Why do they need more toys than they could EVER possibly play with?  Why have we become such a gluttonous and materialistic society? 

OK, OK, I know.  I'm going to get a lecture from my mother now about the ONE Christmas back in 1986 when Mom and Dad decided to give all of our "Christmas" to a family that needed it.  We kids ended up in tears, crying.  That was an EXCELLENT idea, that still sticks fresh in my mind, but was just poorly executed.  Two problems:

1.  You wouldn't tell us kids who our Christmas presents were going to.  I think we were old enough to have handled knowing who it was.
2.  You gave me an ELECTRIC NORELCO RAZOR instead.  Enough said.

Why can't we do that again?  Why can't this entire society get up off our fat, lazy, rich butts, and give up ONE Christmas?  Just ONE Christmas.  That's it.  Keep one present for each person if you must, and then just give the rest of it away.  Would you really miss it?  Would your children REALLY be scarred for life?

So, my point is this:

I have 2 Children who were raised simply, partially out of necessity, and partially as a conscious decision on the part of their mother and myself. 

2 children who are perfectly content with a pad of paper and a set of markers.   Who would LOVE to just be read a book or taken to the park instead.

2 wonderfully precious children who have BIG, OPEN hearts of gold, who know the TRUE meaning of Giving to others....Who love without question and believe without reason. 

I just don't get it. <sigh>

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Tristan and I are going to see the Trans-Siberian Orchestra for Christmas this year. That is our ONE gift to each other, concert tickets.  We got to thinking about it, and there are lots of things we would LIKE, but there really wasn't anything we NEED, and the money could be put to better uses.

But think about what we WILL get for Christmas.  An awesome Christmas MEMORY.  A memory of a Christmas concert with friends.  Years after the Norelco Razors, ties, slippers, and other assorted gifts are sold in a yard sale, we'll look back and say, "Remember the year we left the kids with Grandma, and went to see T.S.O. together, just you and me?"

And THAT, my dear friends, is what Christmas is about to me.  About GIVING, about MEMORIES, about spending time with FRIENDS (and dysfunctional families).

So, if I darken your doorstep this Christmas Season, and you so choose to send me home with a "Parting Gift", like the Monty Hall of Christmas Extravaganza....  Please remember, I am eternally grateful for your kindness and thoughtfullness, but unless it is something I can eat, there is a possibility I may just sell it on Ebay or give it away.

And if you don't get a gift from me this Christmas season, please don't take it personally, I probably just decided that there are people worse off than you are.

DON'T GO TO CHURCH....

           .....BE the Church.

___________________

So, I'm thinking recently about a shirt that a friend of mine wears to church that has the above Slogan on it, and I decide to do a Google search on the words: "Don't Go to Church"......

WOW....the results were quite enlightening.  The first two pages or so of results were primarily reasons that different people have for why THEY don't go to church.  The reasons ran the gamut from:  "There are too many hypocrites in the Church" to "I'll go to church after I quit drinking/smoking."

GUESS WHAT?  Nobody's perfect.  That's not an excuse nor a cop-out. 

It's simply a statement: NOBODY'S PERFECT.

Which got me to thinking..  Why do we have such a hard time attracting people to church?  We live in a world that is desperately crying out, searching for a way, but yet we have such a hard time getting people to come to church.

It's sad.  If I weren't a Christian, and I were on the outside looking in, I wouldn't want to be a Christian.  I wouldn't want to become what I saw in the lives of most Christians.

I don't think we have to be cool, hip, or trendy necessarily to attract people to Church.

But what if we just simply weren't condemning, two-faced, and self-righteous?  What if we were kind and gentle?  What if people saw something in us that they had never seen before elsewhere?  What if they saw a light so white and a fire burning so brightly that they were magnetically attracted to it out of curiousity?

Lately I have been trying to figure out why my church is so different.  So comfortable.  So REAL.  I've been trying to figure out why an incredible 70% of my church comes from an UNCHURCHED background, and yet they get along better than most other churches that I've attended, where the members were Christians who had attended there their whole lives?   I realized that not only were the people at my church NOT PERFECT, but for the most part, none of them acted like they thought they were.  They let their flaws show, and don't try to hide the fact that they make mistakes.

That's perfect for me.


GOD DOESN'T NEED PERFECT PEOPLE.

Are you there God?

Lately I have been feeling distant from God.  Not like He's not speaking anymore, because I know He is, but maybe like I'm not listening anymore.

Now, as I try to focus back in, and get back in touch, I wonder where I went wrong, where I got off track.

Was it when I started a new job? 
Was it when Tristan went back to work and I picked up more household responsibilities?
Was it when I dropped out of my Men's Group at church?
Was it when I started volunteering for more things at church?
Was it when I started neglecting my daily prayer and devotions?

At what MOMENT did I become so busy and distracted that I forgot to talk to God?  At what point did I decide to take Him for granted, to subconsciously take advantage of His grace, knowing that like a Shepherd, He'd always be there when His lamb who strayed returned to the flock?

I didn't stray far, at least I don't think I did.  I didn't stray into any major sins or bad habits.  I just quit talking to Him.  It was kind of like I inadvertently said, "I'm sorry God, I TOTALLY forgot everything you did for me.  I was so busy taking care of the things of THIS WORLD that your Kingdom completely slipped my mind."  WOW.  WOW.  WOW.

So, as I enter this time of reconnection, healing, and repentance, this time of taking my spiritual "Medication" to try and get well again, I humbly confess:


"God, I don't know what to say, except I AM SO SORRY.  I guess I should say 'Thanks', also, for not hitting me with a lightning bolt or something to get my attention.  If you're not too mad at me, can we spend time together again?  There's a lot that's happening in my life that I want to share with you.  I miss you.  Thank you for LOVING ME."

I bought TWO.... (count 'em), TWO BRAND NEW Cordless Phones tonight.

I had to.  Someone was going to kill me.

I have created a new category entitled "Emotions", just for this blog.....

________________________

So, it has been pointed out to me lately, by anonymous sources (both in my life and out), that I am a "very angry little man."  I didn't realize that I was angry, and was unsure what I was even angry about, but I am bound and determined to get to the bottom of it.  I'll start by listing the things that make me angry:

1.  Dead phones.  Whether they be cordless or cellular, I cannot STAND a phone that has gone dead, simply because the owners of it neglected it, and failed to plug it into a charger.  (Sorry, Tristan...  I still LOVE YOU and your little "quirks"!!)  

2.  RELATIVES.  They can be in-laws, out-laws, brothers, sisters, or 3rd cousins....  Family has a way of pushing just the RIGHT BUTTONS that they know will piss you off.   And sometimes they seem to take delight in it.  I don't understand that.  Apparently these people took joy in torturing small animals as a child.   The irony of all this is that my father-in-law called during the middle of typing this sentence (NO LIE), and asked me why my kids weren't in bed.  The more ironic thing?  HE CALLED TO TALK TO ONE OF THEM.

3.  SUV'S.   Sport Utility Vehicles should be outlawed.  They are the gas-guzzling behemoths of the 21st century.  And what INSANE husband buys his wife one without teaching her how to park it in ONE parking space while talking on her cell phone?

4.  HAPPY-CLAPPY MUSIC.   I like Praise and Worship music, don't get me wrong.  But if you can get up on stage and sing the ENTIRE SONG while smiling, without your face cracking or your emotions changing....I can tell you right now that I won't like the song.  Some songs are WAY TOO HAPPY, and even Jesus cringes.

5.  PEOPLE WHO KNOW IT ALL.   People who know it all, or think they do.  Even if you DO, by some strange chance, happen to know it all, keep it to yourself.... No one wants to hear about it all the time.  (You know what they say about opinions.)  If I needed advice on every single thing that you think I do wrong in my life, I would hire a counselor.  Guess what?  You're not one.

6.  PEOPLE WHO HOLD GRUDGES AND CAN'T FORGIVE.  In light of the whole "Haggard" thing recently, and in light of other problems that I have seen lately, why can't people just FORGIVE?  I mean, even Haggard's WIFE is staying by his side.   Yea, he screwed up, and screwed up MAJORLY.  I don't really care if he smoked Meth or smoked Mike the Masseur, the fact of the matter is, WE ALL SIN.  If you yourself are perfect, please disregard the above comments... and disregard my entire blog...........and GO AWAY.

7.  GOSSIP.  I don't want to hear about what the latest scandal with my personal friends is....Unless you personally are involved in the situation, or unless I can offer some advice or be a SPIRITUAL BENEFIT to the predicament.  NEW RULE:  From now on, if you come to me and gossip, I am going to smile and nod and pretend like I'm listening, and then I'm going to blog about you.  Enjoy.

8.  FOOTBALL.  I still don't get it.  It's a bunch of hot sweaty men in tight pants chasing a ball, and slapping each other on the butt.  In any other culture, it would be considered obscene.  And yet, in an average week, the average male adult will spend more time watching football than they do worship God.  Gee, I don't know WHY our society is so screwed up!

9.  GIFTS.  I don't understand gift-giving.  Gifts are rarely practical.  I don't need anything expensive or fancy.  Do this instead:  Give me the cash you WOULD have spent, and write me a long letter, or take me to the movies or dinner and spend some time TALKING TO ME.  This goes for my kids, too.  I am raising them to be simple and practical.  Like Jesus.  Jesus didn't have a PlayStation.  He probably played with a hammer and nails.  His dad was a carpenter.

10.   LIVING VICARIOUSLY.  Please stop trying to dress your children like you want them to dress, and styling their hair like you always wanted your hair to be.  Allow them to establish identities and personalities of their own.  Chances are that your daughter doesn't LIKE the big GUMBY hair bow on her head.  And quit telling me how to raise MY kids.  They're not yours, they never will be.  I'm doing just fine, thanks.

11.  BLUETOOTH Technology.  I think it's great that you have a Bluetooth, and that you have the ability to Multi Task by talking into it while holding up the line at the bank ALL AT THE SAME TIME.   Let me be the one to tell you:  You look retarded.

______________________________

OK, I feel a little better.  Thanks for reading my rants and raves.  I think I'm starting to figure out why I'm getting so angry lately. 

I mentioned a while back that I recently discovered that I had the gift of discernment, and that I was still learning about it.  Some days I wake up and just feel completely bombarded and angry at all the wrong and injustice that I see going on around me.  I don't yet know how to react to all of it, but I am learning....

Learning to cope, learning to live, learning to manage my anger, learning to use my talents, gifts and abilities to the glory of God.

                                  
CONGRATULATIONS to 2 of my best friends on this earth on their recent acceptance into Samford University's Beason School of Divinity!!

And now their shameless plug: www.geoffgottlieb.org and www.podraza.org .....

50 THINGS ABOUT DUSTY

In honor of my good friend, Geoff Gottlieb, www.geoffgottlieb.org , Here are the "50 things about Dusty" that you probably never wanted to know, but I'm gonna tell ya anyhow!

1.  MS-DOS 6.2 was released on my 21st Birthday.  I was probably drunk and formatted my Hard Drive.
2.  My favorite T.V. show is "Intervention" on A&E.  It makes me feel better about myself.
3.  I love Chinese Food.  I could eat it for every meal.  I should have been born an Oriental.
4.  I was married once before for only 6 Months.  My kids don't know.  I'll tell them when they're 50.
5.  My first car was a 1982 Malibu Classic.  This was in 1986, and I paid $1,500.  It looked like a cop car.
6.  The only high school play that I was ever in, I played this crazy dude named "BUCK."   It was stupid.
7.  I have a fear of heights.  I don't worry that I'll FALL, but that I'll have temporary insanity and JUMP. 
8.  I was one of 4 children.  I was a middle child, Number 2.  Enough said.
9.  I have no credit cards.  Don't want any, don't need any.  Probably the only person in the U.S.
10.  I wear boxer briefs.  I would go commando before I'd wear whitey-tighties.
11.  I had a shirt in the 80's that said "Frankie Says Relax."  I also wore a bandanna around my leg.
12.  I love Pepsi, and can't stand Coke.
13.  I sleep on my stomach with my hands under the pillow.  On my back, I snore.
14.  I love rainy, gray, cold days better than hot, sunny ones.  I curl up with a good book.
15.  My car has 265,000 miles on it.  That's the equivalent of a trip to JESUS and back.

16.   I was born at a young age in Joplin, Missouri.  Nothing good ever came out of that town.
17.   I ran away from home on my "Big Wheel."  I got stuck in the mud and got spanked with a belt.
18.   I wore a white tuxedo with baby blue RUFFLES to a wedding. I was SUPER HOT & SEXY.  I was 7.
19.   I have been Baptist, Methodist, Church of Godist, & Non-Denominationalist. 
20.   I have my original Star Wars action figures in their Carrying Case.  I hid them from the Ebay police.
21.  My favorite movie is "Untamed Heart" with Marisa Tomei and Christian Slater.  She was HOT.
22.  My favorite time of day is the middle of the night.  It is quiet, dark, and peaceful.
23.  I want to be cremated if I die.  If I don't die, then just let me live alone in peace.
24.  I hate to wear socks in summer.  But, in winter, I wear big, thick WOOL ones, & won't go barefoot.
25.  Turning 33 was harder than 30.  Jesus died when he was 33, so I was relieved when I turned 34.
26.  I once got to be a Batboy for the K.C. Royals and go on the field with Danny Tartabull.
27.  I once rode in an open cockpit BiPlane that was painted like the Red Baron, and got to do Aerobatics.
28.  I has always been a dream of mine to learn to Scuba Dive.  It is quiet underwater.
29.  I have a permanently "seperated" shoulder.  Don't drink and ride a 3-wheeler with no brakes.
30.  I was hit in the forehead with a Cadillac Headlight.  I put a band-aid on it & now have a 3 inch scar.
31.  My left ear is pierced.  I haven't worn an earring in YEARS, or at least since ONE EARRING was "Cool."
32.  I have a tattoo on my right shoulder blade.  It is the Chinese symbol for "Prayer."
33.  I memorized the longest word in the English language.  It has 45 letters and is a lung disease.
34.  I almost joined Mensa once, but was the only person there with A.D.D.  No one else spoke. True story.
35.  I share the same birthday with my father-in-law and ex-wife.  Strange, very strange.
36.  I am severely lactose intolerant.  I can LOOK at a gallon of milk and get diarrhea.
37.  I stood in the rain and mud to see a Gun's N Roses concert.  Axl Rose got mad and left the stage.
38.  I like to be naked, and am quite angry at Adam and Eve for ruining all of that.
39.  I worked as a delivery driver for Steak-Out and actually enjoyed it.
40.  I have the Spiritual Gift of Discernment.  I haven't discerned how to use my gift yet, though.
41.  I was a paramedic for 3 years and have seen enough blood and gore to last a lifetime.
42.  I haven't ridden a bicycle in probably 10 years.  I wonder if it's true.  Would it all come back to me?
43.  I drink coffee 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.  It's part of the supermodel diet (that's NOT working...)
44.  My mom had a 1976 Honda CVCC that she drove us around in.  I would drive it if she still had it.
45.  My favorite color is Red.  Someone complimented me the other day when I wore red.
46.  My first name is Michael.  "Dusty" comes from Dustin, which is my middle name.
47.  I painted my toenails "Blood Red" once.  I wore sandals, and got really strange looks from people.
48.  I have been to the island of Barbados.  The sand there is pink.
49.  I eat fast.  I try to slow down and it frustrates me.  It must be Mastificating O.C.D./A.D.D.
50.  I love my life.  It probably looks unconventional from the outside, but I wouldn't trade it for ANYTHING!

I started the new job last week.   I am now officially the "Warehouse Manager" as we enter Week #2.   My coworkers are a heterogeneous conglomeration of hoi polloi.....Our workplace a variable cornucopia of wisdom and brainpower, muscle and brawn.    I snapped a quick picture the other day after we all went out to lunch:




We are located in one of the FINER neighborhoods in Greater Downtown Birmingham, conveniently located between the Alabama Book Store, and the Platinum Club which boasts "14,000 square feet of sophisticated adult night life, catering to ALL of your senses."
 
It's a good thing that I am not a Porn Addict with a predilection for Gangsta Rap, or I'd probably never make it to work.

It is enjoyable to honk and wave at people entering or leaving the Adult Bookstore as I pass by, all the while praying that it gives them feelings of shame and penitence, and they leave, baffled, puzzled, and remorseful, wondering if I was someone they knew, and they had possibly been "caught."

So, as I'm trudging through the broken Bud Light bottles, cigarette butts, hypodermic syringes, and empty condom wrappers between the parking lot and the building this morning, I'm thinking how different it is to work with people from my church, fellow Christians who you can talk to about what you're going through, whether it be emotionally, spiritually, or physically. 

And how strangely peculiar, yet wonderfully nice how God brought it all together in a strange little twist of events.........  If Tristan and I had never joined our church, we would have never gone to the Bible Study where I met my future employer(s), etc, etc... (I could go on and on..)

I found out today that I also work with a Gideon.  You know...the people who leave Bibles in Motel Rooms.  I didn't know they actually existed.   I always thought the Motel housekeeping staff left Bibles in the rooms and blamed it on the mysterious "Gideons" in a bizarre plot against the Devil.  I'm going to have to talk to him about this, although he doesn't appear to be a very "approachable person," as he only speaks when he is ANGRY.  So I am praying for the right time, lest he turn out to be a serial killer or some sort of Bible-throwing lunatic.

So, as I kick back, and enjoy the 10 minute commute to work, I don't mind when the guy driving the Mercedes SUV, talking on the cellphone, and typing on the laptop CUTS ME OFF.  I don't mind when my boss forces me to fix "Hot Cocoa" for him every afternoon at 3 P.M. like clockwork, despite the fact that it is 185 degrees inside our Warehouse.   I know I'm where I'm supposed to be. 

I'm happy, and life is good.

 

I have come to the recent conclusion that in order to be able to HEAR GOD, I am going to need to shut out some of the Melodrama that the devil is causing all around me.  Including any melodrama that I may have caused in the lives of others. 

Don't get me wrong, I understand that people have problems.  I understand that people need to talk to other people about their problems.  But at this point in my life, I feel that I am not qualified to act as a Counselor nor a Mentor.

Is it WRONG of me to turn people away from hearing about their problems?  Possibly.  Is it wrong of me to turn away people who have problems with their spouses or with another Christian?  NO.   "No" because not only am I not qualified to give advice to fix your problem, but maybe you need to be sharing your problems with the person that has "wronged" you, and not with the rest of the world.   Then it becomes GOSSIP.

So, if you see me in public, please don't ask me what is wrong if I appear to be unusually quiet.  I assure you that everything is JUST FINE.  I am merely watching, observing.   I am moving quietly, swiftly into silent stealth mode.

Don't be afraid to speak to me about any of your problems, but please don't be surprised if I politely turn you away, change the subject, or appear disinterested.  

I LOVE all of my friends just as Christ loved the Church, but I don't think I have handled "issues" correctly in the past, and it is TIME FOR CHANGE.

I'M SORRY, I JUST CAN'T DO IT THE OLD WAY ANY MORE.

Due to recent events in my life, I found it necessary to try and discover my Spiritual Gift. 

I feel strongly about certain people, places, and events when I see "injustice" in those situations, and it has always baffled me WHY.  

My observations on these injustices, while sometimes brash, have always received comments from friends and family such as, "Don't worry about it," and "You worry too much," and "Pick your Battles."

Well, after taking a Spiritual Gifts test, I have discovered that I have the gift of DISCERNMENT.  I think it was my mother who suggested this years ago, but I had never taken the steps to find out.

So, now it helps to know why I have the feelings and emotions that I have.  Feelings and Emotions that I can't just "put away", and "pick my battles", and "not worry about."  God didn't give me this gift to have it sit dormant and me not use it. 

What I DO struggle with, however, is the right TIME and PLACE and PEOPLE to express these feelings and emotions to.  And HOW to express them.   The right way, The right timing.

So, with that said, Please don't ever tell me to "NOT WORRY" about something, or to "Chill out, man."

If you do observe me handling a situation in what you feel is the wrong way, please kindly point it out, and I will be more than happy to take it under advisement, and remedy it if necessary.

Recently I posted a blog on my website about a situation I noticed that I felt was being handled poorly.  It was brought to my attention by a good friend of mine that maybe I was handling it wrong by posting a blog about it.  By coming to me personally out of love, this friend handled it in a Biblical, Godly manner, and I reconsidered and removed the blog from my website.

So, with all that said, I'm going to get off my soapbox.  The moral of the story is this:  I have discovered my Spiritual Gift and am trying to figure out how to use it in the proper manner as God intended it.  So, bear with me, I'm not perfect, and if I handle something wrong, have patience with me. 

We can work it out.



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Here is a little information on the gift of Discernment:

The gift of discernment is the special ability that God gives to certain members of the body of Christ to distinguish between truth and error, and to know with assurance whether certain behavior purported to be of God is in reality divine, human, or satanic.

People with this gift:
 

	distinguish truth from error, right from wrong, pure motives from impure;
	identify deception in others with accuracy and appropriateness;
	determine whether a testimony attributed to God is authentic;
	recognize inconsistencies in a teaching, prophetic message or interpretation;
	are able to sense the presence of evil.

I turned in 2 weeks notice yesterday to my dad.  I work for my father and 2 brothers who own 3 "The UPS Store" franchises.

So, before you think I am completely off-my-rocker-insane, let me explain:

My life priorities have changed over the last 2 years of working here.   My TOP priorities are now:  God, Church, Tristan, Windsor, and Gabriel (although not necessarily in that order).  THAT'S IT.  NOTHING ELSE.

You notice I didn't say money, fame, power, cars, clothes, business, or success?

Driving from Birmingham to Tuscaloosa 5 days a week is literally sucking the life out of me.  I felt that my career was in constant competition with my home life......and I don't believe that is the way God intended it to be.

I believe that it is MY RESPONSIBILITY to provide for my family.  I also believe that it is MY RESPONSIBILITY to make sure my children are brought up by their parents, and not the television, nor the daycare, nor the public school system.

So, with that said, Friday, September 29th will be my last day of employment for my family.

I will be taking a position in Birimingham that is 8 miles from my house, and only requires 40 hours per week.  This will free up an additional 20 hours per week to be spent with my family.

Tristan is my #1 Fan and in big approval, and so far, the rest of my family appears to be in approval and support.  But even if they didn't approve......It doesn't matter.   I don't care.

I don't live my life anymore for the approval of my friends and family, but for the approval of my Heavenly Father.

Ok, so I mentioned that I don't have alot to say lately.  That's not entirely true.  I have PAGES of notes in my Bible, in my car, and on my desk with jotted-down thoughts that have the word *BLOG* written out next to them.  Reminders on church bulletins, gas receipts, gum wrappers.   These are all random brain-farts that I meant to blog about, once I put them into a complete THOUGHT. 

I must get up.  I must push on.  I MUST BLOG.  So, away we go......

------------------------

FOOTBALL

It officially felt like fall this morning as I walked out of the house to head to work.  Kind of cool out, but not quite yet jacket weather.  Fall means 2 things to me:   Comfort and Football.

The "comfort" is because I no longer have to sweat in my little Camry with no Air Conditioning.  No more having to shower before church because I smell like B.O. from the commute home.

And that brings us to FOOTBALL......    I HATE FOOTBALL.   To be honest, I hate all sports.  I am not athletic and never have been.   I have no interest in coming over to your house and watching a bunch of guys slap each other on the butt and chase a ball around while you and your buddies scream at the T.V. and drink beer.  THAT IS NOT FUN.  I don't care if it IS Alabama vs. Auburn.

You can still invite me over, but I will most likely stay in the kitchen with the women and talk about cooking and girlie things.  I won't make a big production out of it, I probably just won't be a participant.

I don't understand Alabama's obsession with football.  My daughter is a cheerleader at her elementary school, and so I am forced to attend a few football games because I love my daughter dearly, and truly want to see her perform.  

But there is always a distraction in the background......  7 year old Boys trying to kill each other...This isn't flag football, THIS IS TACKLE.   Please explain to me the BENEFIT of teaching young men to try to kill each other at that age.   I just don't get it.  On second thought, don't try to explain it to me, I will never understand it because I have already made up my mind that I don't WANT to understand it.

Now don't get me wrong, I played sports briefly in school.   I played Soccer for one season....ummmm, until I found out that I could be the Team Manager and still get a Varsity Letter, still go on all the trips, and I got to hang out with the cheerleaders on the sidelines.      All I had to do was wash some uniforms (no jockstraps, so don't ASK) and occasionally videotape a game.

Despite not playing contact sports and not learning "sportsmanship", I feel that I turned out just fine.  I am creative, kind, sensitive, and have a "woman-brain" (as my wife lovingly refers to it).  I did not turn out GAY....., (although I am a Lesbian.)

-------------------------------

MARRIAGE

This past weekend, Tristan and I went to Grayton Beach, Florida on a Marriage Retreat with our church.   It was a lot of fun, and the weather was perfect.    We rode down with a couple that I have blogged about previously, Jay and Stephanie (whose hair is now Blue/Green/Black, no longer just Blue.) 

We turned at a red light in Florala, Alabama, and Jay and I spot it at the same time, a LIFESIZE Elvis, on the sidewalk on Main Street.


One hour, one Country All-you-can-eat buffet, and one Flea Market later, Jay buys a 1974 Motorcycle helmet for $1.00.  It is a size SMALL, and once placed on his head, unfortunately makes him resemble a large handicapped child, which I promptly inform him of.

He proceeds to walk out into the middle of Highway 331 (which runs right through the business district in Florala), and stand on the double yellow line and wave at cars for a full 5 minutes.   I have never laughed so hard in my life, and I don't think the town of Florala will ever be the same again after the appearance of the Tattooed, Body-Pierced, Punk-Rock retarded boy who stood in the middle of Main Street.  They will probably talk about it for years to come.

The rest of the weekend was awesome.  We stayed in an incredible 6 bedroom house on the beach.  We had a couple of Marriage-building group sessions, taught by my good friend, Paul Podraza, and did a lot of marriage strengthening.

One of the exercises that I was supposed to do this weekend was to write a Love Letter to my spouse.  Tristan completed hers, which she was already planning to do for our 10 Year Anniversary, but due to outside circumstances, I was unable to get mine completed.   I was thinking, why not put it on here, in my blog?  I am not embarrassed, nor ashamed of my love for my wife, and as long as I don't get overly sexual (which she says I have a tendency to do), I feel it would be perfectly appropriate to write her a public note.  I feel that I must scream my love from the top of the highest mountain, so here it is:

---------------------------

Tristan, my friend, my lover, my soulmate,

This letter was not easy, because it is hard to put into words 10 years of love that I have for you.  

I knew from the minute I met you that we would be together forever.  I had always wandered through relationships, wondering what a "soulmate" was, and what it would feel like when I found mine.  From the first date we had together, I quit wondering what it would feel like, because I had finally met mine.

Even though we "shacked up" together (which we now realize was wrong), and divorce statistics would condemn us based on that alone, we managed to pull through.

We have had our rough times over the last 10 years.  Yes, there have been fights, and times that both of us have wanted to walk out.....  But through the grace of God, we held together, with a TRUE LOVE that bound like glue.

Tristan, I love you like Christ loved the Church:  Unconditionally, Truly, Wholly, and Unselfishly.  

I have watched you blossom in the last year alone from a woman that once wore a T-shirt that said, "It's all about me", to a wonderful Godly Christian woman that now wears T-shirts that say things like, "It's NOT about me," "I Love My Husband," and "Blessed."............ WOW, that is truly amazing.

We have had some tough times.   I have personally caused you a lot of pain in 10 years through careless words and actions, and for that I say publicly, I AM TRULY SORRY.

Tristan, I look forward to growing old with you.  After only 10 years, even physically, you are more beautiful to me than the day I met you.   There is not a day goes by that I don't wake up, roll over, and smile when I see your gorgeous face.

Follow me, hold my hand, take my heart, share my dreams, and walk in my footsteps.   I promise to you that I will NEVER forsake you or lead us astray.  

You are truly a Gift from God.  He made you for me, and me for you.   Before time ever began, he knew us both and knew our destiny.   It is amazing to me how our worlds collided at just the right instance to bring us together, and there we have stayed ever since....In HIS arms.

I love you with all of my heart, soul, and mind,
Dusty

----------------------------------------------------------

So, my fellow bloggers, THAT is what can happen to you when you allow yourself to become SMITTEN.  Not with the things of the world, like FOOTBALL , but with a beautiful Godly creature that HE MADE EXCLUSIVELY FOR YOU.

Whenever he know he's about to get in trouble, my 5 year old son, Gabriel, always says, "I'm so, so, so, so, sorry, daddy."  And somehow in his small developing mind, he seems to think the disciplinary outcome hinges on how many times he uses the word "SO" in his apology.

Well, my loyal reader and dear friend, I'm saying to you, "I'm so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so sorry for not blogging over the last month."

So much has been going on in my life, but yet I haven't felt anything was "News-worthy" of posting on my blog.  I didn't want to post something JUST TO BE POSTING, and become a blog that was full of crap that was posted just because the blog owner felt it necessary to post 6 times a day.  

The dictionary defines WHITE NOISE as:  "An electronically produced drone or the sound of rain, used to mask or obliterate unwanted sounds."............So, THAT is what I did not want to become:   Incessant babbling and rambling.  Words without meaning, their posts echoing down the halls of the internet superhighway.

I am officially back amongst the blogging-living.   Please don't consider me a slacker, I was just sparing your ears the painful bleeding of the WHITE NOISE.

I don't know why, but I could read this passage from Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis OVER AND OVER AGAIN and it still gives me goosebumps:

"I am here trying to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: ‘I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept his claim to be God.’ That is the one thing we must not say.

A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic – on the level with the man who says he is a poached egg – or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice.

Either this man was, and is, the Son of God - or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about his being a great human teacher. He has not left that open to us. Nor did he intend to."

You know, I'm only human.  We all are.   I sin.   I make mistakes...of course, I probably manage to do it more frequently than most.

We have a new neighbor, named "Reagan", in the Condo across the hall from us.  The young, Christian, Pharmacist, married couple moved away, and instead we got a young, recently turned 21 years, blond Girl with a rude boyfriend who feels it necessary to light his cigarette right outside my door, rather than at the BOTTOM of the stairwell.

Skimpy clothes (I mean REALLY SKIMPY, like workout clothes, but then cut another couple of inches off...), Loud music at midnight, stomping up and down the stairwell (which now smells like a bowling alley), and THEN, get this: 

I see her outside the other day with a new puppy.  "Oh, that's a cute puppy," I remark.  "What kind of dog is it?"

Reagan replies, "A Great Dane."

Apparently "MOM" is worried about her young daughter leaving the nest and needing some protection from a 600 pound dog.  Keep in mind that Reagan lives in an UPSTAIRS unit.  This is going to be fun.

The other night, Tristan announces that Reagan is no longer dating the rude Marlboro dude.  She had to break up with him because he was into DRUGS.  Nice.  

BUT, as if I needed more excitement in this drama, Reagan now has a new roommate. 

Tristan tells me that it is another young 21 year old girl, but "Don't worry, her dad's a preacher."  Hmmmm, that makes me feel ALOT better.

So, I'm taking the trash across the Condo parking lot to the dumpster before work this morning, and while walking casually back towards my car, I see a girl come out of our building and disappear behind one of the cars.

Now keep in mind that I have HORRIBLE eyesight....  From a distance she looked GOOD.  I mean I wasn't "checking her out", but she happened to catch my eye, as I was walking in that direction and there was NO ONE else outside at that time of the morning, so I just naturally LOOKED.

Besides, the curiousity in me just wanted to know what our neighbor looked like....Not in a perverted sexual kind of way.  Just so I would KNOW what she looked like.  I mean, she is my new neighbor, after all.

Upon getting a little closer, I found it strangely odd that the new HOTTIE next door was getting something out of MY CAR.  Then I got a little closer and it hit me:  It's NOT the girl next door,  THAT IS MY WIFE.  And she has a really NICE butt....

So, this brings me to a crossroads:  Let's SAY, just for arguments sake, that I HAD been sinning and looking at her lustfully.  Upon finding out that it was really my wife, does that still constitute a "Sin"?

SO, THANK YOU GOD FOR SENDING US NEW NEIGHBORS TO WITNESS TO, BUT DID YOU HAVE TO INCLUDE THE FLESH PARADE?

Our pastor's newest Series at Mountaintop on Sundays is about "How to Hear God."  It's kind of ironic, because that's what I've been doing lately.  A new ability to listen have I learned....that was "YodaSpeak"...

It's some good stuff.   Attend if you can, if not, all of our sermons can be listened to online at  www.mountaintopchurch.com .....

I'm in "listen" mode lately, and not "speak" mode, so I apologize for the few and fragmented blogs.....I have Blog-Block.

For fear of losing the 3 loyal readers that I have, I having been praying for an idea....  Now I'm just listening, waiting.  

Apparently He's working on PATIENCE in me now. 

What a wonderfully crazy, yet tiring 3 days.

I have been up at Mountaintop taking part in the Summit Leadership Conference since Wednesday night, with little rest in between.   I have juggled problems at work (via Telephone), Volunteer work for the Summit, Meeting 2 new Teachers up at the kids' school, taking Windsor to Breakfast and the first day of school, Learning a TON, etc, etc...

.Just forget the whole "Summary of the Conference blog."   I learned a lot of great stuff which I'll share bit by bit over the upcoming weeks, but I'm just tired, physically exhausted, and a little frustrated at not being able to enjoy the Summit as much as I would have liked...and having to miss a few speakers.  

Nobody twisted my arm to volunteer.  I did it because I wanted to (and to save the $65 per person admission charge.)   I helped out where needed, and brought glory to God by helping, and have NO regrets.


So, now for the high points of this week:

I got to hear Andy Stanley speak.  GREAT TEACHER.  Pastor of a big church in Atlanta.  Funny, down to earth, and he spoke on juggling family and career.  GOOD STUFF, and a lot of it I will be putting into practice, like leaving work ON TIME and leaving work BEHIND and trusting God to handle work while you handle your home life and family. 

I got to hear BONO speak.  I started listening to U2 in 1983 when my brother Jeff bought a VHS tape copy of U2's "Under a Blood Red Sky- Live at Red Rocks."  It was an incredible Concert video, and Jeff and I played it probably 250 times that summer.  Bono was young and skinny back then, and wore black jeans and a black t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, and calf-high leather boots with lots of shiny silver chains and HEELS on the boots.      I remember because Jeff then went out and bought a pair and wore them around.   hmmmmm....  It's a wonder Jeff has a wife and kids today....  Weren't the 80's great?

I got to take Windsor to breakfast.  My daughter, Windsor, started 2nd grade today.  I started a tradition 2 years ago, in Kindergarten.   I take her to Waffle House before school on the FIRST DAY and LAST DAY of each school year.   So,  I had some "scattered, smothered, covered, chunked, tossed, diced and peppered" with my BABY GIRL.

I got to take Gabe to meet his Kindergarten Teacher today.  This morning, Tristan and I took my little 5-year old buddy, Gabriel, to meet his Kindergarten teacher.   Her name was Ms.  McNeese.  I tried to convince him to call her McNEPHEW, but he would have no part in it.   He starts school on Monday.  He's small for his age anyhow, but he looked so LITTLE in that classroom.

I got to start learning how to weld.   A new friend of mine from church, Jay, (briefly mentioned in a previous blog, and also the husband of the "girl with blue hair", Stephanie), took me downtown later tonight after church to a big old dirty dark warehouse to dig through some scrap metal bins and start teaching me how to weld.  This all came about after Tristan presented me at church with my 10th anniversary present, seen here:



Tristan asked him for something that would represent our marriage, and that is what he DESIGNED, HAND MADE, AND WELDED for me.  The 2 rings in the center represent Tristan and I, the outer one being me, protecting her.  And the 3 hand-forged spikes are actually going through the 2 rings, piercing them one at a time.    It weighs in at about 10-15 pounds and is about 20 inches high.  It's AWESOME.

WOW.  And you know the funny thing?  I overheard him tell someone earlier today that he only had about 4 bucks on him, so I asked him to lunch today with Tristan and I and about 15 other people from Mountaintop before I ever knew about this cross, as I didn't get it until later in the day.

I guess I should back up and explain.  Jay has two-tone hair which is half shaved/half spiked.  His lip, nose, eyebrow, ears and probably lots of other stuff are pierced.  He has tattos over most of his body, including a HUGE Jesus on his left forearm.  He dresses in all black.   Last Sunday to church he wore a t-shirt that said, "DON'T GO TO CHURCH" on the front of it.  On the back it said, "BE THE CHURCH."  He gets strange looks everywhere he goes, and he's aware of it (probably especially today at Dale's Southern Grille in the Vestavia City Center....)

But you know what?   Most people probably sum him up in the first 20 seconds and turn their nose up at him, just like a few people at lunch today, including a few people at our OWN TABLE.    I hope they all got food poisoning.

He doesn't care.  I try not to care, but it makes me angry at people.  Over the last few weeks, I have learned that Jay is probably ONE OF the deepest Spiritual people I have ever met.  He has memorized more Bible verses than most pastors.   He used to have a Ministry to punk rockers, and saw lots of people come to Christ.  His wife, Stephanie, is part of a Ministry to STRIPPERS.   She goes and visits them once a month at the Clubs and reminds them that someone does love them, and that there is a way out and better things waiting for them.  Sometimes she just sits and listens. 

One time they took their own money and drove to Fort Payne, Alabama (Sock Capital of the World....don't ask..) , and bought as many pairs of socks as they could afford.   They brought them back and handed them out to the homeless because they heard that alot of the homeless deal with foot funguses (fungi?), known as boot-rot or jungle-rot or something I can't remember, and that they really need CLEAN SOCKS.

What a BOLD couple.   What a BOLD PERSON.   He loves God, and GOD LOVES HIM AND SO DO I.

And for THAT, I am proud to call Jay a true friend.

So, riddle me this, Batman:  I know it's just human nature, but why do people treat people like LEPERS?  It baffles me.  Have we completely lost sight of our true reason and purpose?  Are we too wrapped up in our Prada, Ralph Lauren, Gucci, Fancy Cars, Fancy Houses, that we forget those that are doing without?

There are 2,103 references to "POOR" in the Bible.   Hmmmm, I'm not a rocket scientist, but DO YA THINK HE WAS TRYING TO TELL US SOMETHING?

There is nothing wrong with having nice things.  God wants us to have nice things, but what if you bought a $20,000 car instead of a $30,000 car?  What good could you do for the Kingdom of God with the other $10,000??

I don't know why this makes me so angry.   I wonder if it made Jesus angry.  Maybe if it did, I would feel justified for my anger.

So, I spend the evening with Jay.  I'm trying to get him started on making some items to sell to our church bookstore.  He made an item similar to my Cross, and donated it to the Church for a fundraiser Auction a while back, and it brought $180.00!   So, I'm seeing a big missed opportunity here, and he tells me today that he would like to sell more stuff and do more welding work, but it was hard to get jobs because of his appearance.   He said he needed someone like me with the "White preppie clean cut appearance"  (Something close to that, but HE AND I understood each other..) to help him make the Sales pitches.

So, he and I went into the Church Bookstore this afternoon, and the person that runs it was REALLY EXCITED and is going to see about the Church bookstore being able to buy some of his Artwork for resale......COOL.

Please scroll down to my blog on 6/18/06, when I wrote the following: 

"Which reminds me, there is a girl at church with hair that is a different color every week.  I think it was blue or green one week, but this week it's red.  She's married, but I've only seen her husband once or twice.   I had a dream about her the other night.  I don't remember the details, but I woke up disturbed and sad, and with a HEAVY feeling on my heart about her and her husband.  I think they need help with something, but I have ABSOLUTELY no clue what I could possibly have to offer.   I have an extremely strong feeling that I'm supposed to talk to her, but I don't know why or how to approach her.  God, show me what to do.  Show me your will and your way."

It is TRULY AMAZING the things that God says and does when you SHUT UP AND LISTEN.

 

We've quit serving Starbucks Coffee before services at our Church.   Apparently we now serve Royal Cup or some such nonsense.  This concerns me.  Starbucks was hip and trendy.  Royal Cup is a Geriatric coffee, kind of like SANKA or POSTUM.

Ok, I'm not complaining, because as a Coffeeaholic, I'll drink anything, (especially if it's free), but I wanted to know the how's and why's of why we quit.

So, delving deeper into the mystery of the disappearing coffee,  I have discovered that the UPPER MANAGEMENT OF STARBUCKS CORPORATE in Seattle no longer wants to donate coffee to churches.  Ok, not a big deal, but I guess now that we're having to PAY FOR IT, we are "coupon-shopping" for Coffee. 

I'm not sure if this due to budget constraints at Starbucks or what, but I am also discovering that Starbucks strongly supports the homosexual "movement" (for lack of a better word), ....that's kind of gross.... nevermind...

......both through donations to Gay Organizations, as well as several gay "quotes" placed on their coffee cups in the past.  I'm not sure what a "Gay Quote" is.  Maybe it's something like "You sure look SUPER in that hot pink argyle cardigan sweater."

If you want to get really tree-huggin', granola-eatin' whacko crazy, consider this:  Starbucks serves milk from cows that are injected with genetically engineered recombinant bovine growth hormone.  

Who really cares? 

I LIKE genetically engineered recombinant bovine growth hormone CREAMER.  It tastes better with my Cancer-causing SPLENDA.

In conclusion, it would APPEAR that Starbucks is run by Hormonal Gay Atheists.

So, the next time you think about buying a $12.00 Latte.........STOP, and ask your friendly neighborhood barrista if they know how many homosexual atheist cows were slaughtered for that cup o' joe.

Let me know how that one turns out, Sparky.

Sorry, my faithful loyal fine friends, both the ONE of you.   I have been away, doing the work of the Lord.

Ok, I lied.   Actually, I have been at work.   Observations from this week:

1.  We take Air Conditioning for granted.  Especially when it quits at work 2 times in one week, and the temperature in the store hits 92 degrees.  I lost 8 1/2 pounds this week.

2.  Taking your child to work occasionally does NOT affect store sales, productivity, or the public's perception of your PROFESSIONALISM.  It does however, cause your son to admire you, look up to you, and having a lasting memory of a really COOL experience with his father.

3.  Children are SO impressionable.  On the way to the aformentioned job (that I am now probably FIRED from for taking my child to work), my son asked to listen to music in the car.  He apparently doesn't understand that the GIANT GAPING HOLE in the dashboard of my car is NOT a large cupholder, but where a Car Stereo would be.....if I had one.  

Luckily for him, I keep 2 portable CD players in my car. 

He never asked what kind of music I had, or what he was listening to.  He just smiled and beat his head softly in time with the music, all the while sucking his thumb.  It was SALVADOR LIVE and he loved it.

That made me realize how impressionable a child could be.  I could effectively shape and mold his taste in art, music, and culture by the things I subject him to at this young age.  I could convince him that POLKA music was cool if I wanted to.  Scary, scary...BIG responsibility.

4.  Bologna, Pasteurized Processed Cheese Slices and Wheat bread can feed MULTITUDES.  Just like Jesus with the loaves and the fishes, tonight Windsor and I put together 120 sandwiches for the Homeless at Linn Park tomorrow.   We also have bananas, 120 Twinkies/Zingers, 120 bags of chips, and about 100 bottles of water.

Thanks to Geoff for all his hard work.  He got the bread, bologna, and chips donated....and I got the lady at the bakery thrift store to make us a whale of a deal on 120 Twinkies.

I just hope the homeless like Bologna.  I don't think we have to worry about it, but that would be horrible if they refused to eat the sandwiches.  If nothing else, I bet we'll win the "Originality" award....

5.  S.C. loves J.C.   

My "Secret Santa" sent me a t-shirt with my life verse (Isaiah 6:8) on it:  Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?"    And I said, "Here am I. Send me!" 

Cool gift.  Thanks Secret Santa, whoever you are. 

My brother, Kipp,  got a Leather "The Message" Bible from HIS Secret Santa.  I think he thougt "The Message" was the sequel to Lord of the Rings, though.   Oh yeah, Kipp, "The Message Bible" was written by Eugene PETERSON.  Eugen LEVY was the Dad in the American Pie movies.  BIG DIFFERENCE.

So, so pretty cool gifts from some pretty cool SANTA's. 
Well, that blows the whole SANTA IS A SATANIST theory out of the water.

6.  Leadership positions are sometimes appointed.  You don't always just wake up and say, "I THINK I'LL BE A LEADER TODAY."  Sometimes it's learned through sinking or swimming.

I volunteered for the Willow Creek Leadership Summit this upcoming week at our church  ( https://www.willowcreek.com/events/leadership   .  To be honest, I volunteered for what might be considered selfish reasons.  Volunteers get to attend for FREE.  Tristan and I wanted to go, but didn't have the money. 

So, thrilled to be going, I let them know that I'll do ANYTHING that they need me to do (and I sincerely mean it...)

I'm told that I will just be doing "grunt work."  Then I'm told that I'm going to be an usher, which quickly changed as someone realized it was a LITTLE FRIGHTENING to have me speaking to and greeting Guests at the door.  First impressions are everything.  Probably wasn't a great idea.   (It could have also been due to the fact that I jokingly asked if Ushers were required to wear PANTS.)

In the meantime, I get an email.....Someone has determined that I am the "Facilities Director."   

hmmmm....  So, I'm thinking, OK..."Facilities" like the BATHROOM.   Wrong.

My first reaction is, "Oh no, there must be a mistake,"  so I proceed to send out an email to EVERYONE short of the pastor to let them know of their error.

Then I went to bed. 

God changed my outlook on the whole situation OVERNIGHT.   It hit me when I woke up the next morning:  I was just asked to be a LEADER at a Conference that I am attending to learn how to BE A LEADER.   And my initial reaction was a knee-jerk one.  How LAME.

So, after several apologetic emails, I am now officially the "Facilities Director."  

Do I know my official duites?  NO. 

Do I embrace and accept my title, and will I give it 110%?  ABSOLUTELY.

First Lesson learned in Leadership:  Accept it, embrace it, and RUN WITH IT, BABY.

Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results each time, due to the seeming inability to learn from your past mistakes.

Ok, I actually stole that loosely translated quote from Alcoholics Anonymous, of which I am a card-carrying member.  I haven't drank since July 17th, 2005.   Not once.

Do I think drinking is wrong?  No.

Do I think people who drink are bad?  Some, but only about 1-2%, and they were bad BEFORE they started drinking.

Do I mind being around people drinking?  It doesn't bother me.


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I personally chose to quit drinking in the Summer of 2005 because I saw the negative effects that it was beginning to have on my family, my wife, my kids, my health, my Spiritual Life, and my marriage.

I decided that the easiest way to quit would be to check out my  local A.A. meetings and see what that was all about.  I went, unbeknownst to friends and family (anyone other than my wife), to meetings after work for about 3 months, racing home from Tuscaloosa to Birmingham and changing shirts in the car.  There I met people who were JUST LIKE ME, NORMAL.  I met Doctors, Lawyers, a guy who owned a Nightclub, and NORMAL EVERYDAY PEOPLE, who you would pass on the street and not think twice.

I even attended an A.A. meeting that was held in a BAR in Hoover on Sunday mornings at 8 A.M.  Just in time to race home afterwards and go to church, like nothing was "out of the ordinary."   A church where EVERY social function outside of the church doors seemed to involve alcohol in ONE WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM.   The irony.

I just didn't want alcohol to be a part of my life anymore.  I could not see one single POSITIVE benefits of it.   Ok, except that maybe the beer made my hair shinier and more healthy, just like feeding raw eggs to a golden retriever dog.... (if you don't understand that one, forget it.) 

Did alcohol make social situations more "fluid" and fun?  Yes, but I think there are deeper character issues at play if you have to have a sip of an alcoholic beverage to loosen up.   Maybe those are character flaws or defects that need attention.   Maybe that is just the WIRING of some people's brains. 

This is exactly what I intended to find out.

I attended meetings for a little over 3 months.   During that time, I met some SUPER people.  The kind of people that would have been my "new best friends" had we met in a bar over a drink or two.    I took my family to a picnic on a Saturday afternoon in a Park along with about 50 other members of A.A. and their families, children, and loved ones.  We had a BLAST.

 I met some wackos, too.  I met a guy that was 95 years old, had been in A.A. for 50+ years, needed to seek mental help, and told me I would "never make it" if I didn't have him as my "sponsor."  (A sponsor is like an accountability partner, and some members of A.A. believe if you don't utilize a "sponsor" then the system WILL NOT WORK.) 

This I found to be untrue in some situations.  I think I was the exception and not the rule.  In my particular situation, GOD turned out to be my Sponsor.    A.A. puts a high emphasis on Religion (which they refer to as a "higher power", in case you are a Buddhist Tibetan Atheist Monk living in a Nunnery in the Vatican.)

I think God worked everything out personally for me.  After 3 months, I realized that I had a strong enough relationship with God, and a strengthened and renewed relationship with my wife, Tristan...enough to "wean" myself out of A.A.

My conclusion?  Not everyone who drinks is an Alcoholic.  Most aren't.  Some people are able to have just ONE DRINK in a social setting and then put it down.   A lot of people aren't.   I just don't personally have a need for it in my own life at this particular moment.

I am ETERNALLY grateful to A.A. for the program they offer (FREE OF CHARGE, AND FREE COFFEE!!), and realize that there are some people that will need those meetings EVERY DAY for the rest of their lives in order to remain sober.

Should I ever need them again, I know that somewhere, every hour of every day, SOMEWHERE in the world, they're having a meeting, and I'm always welcome.

THERE.  That's about as bare as it gets.     You have now experienced my most intimate, personal, deep, dark, dirty secret.    The only thing that would top that would be getting naked, and that isn't happening, THANK GOD.

Why do most Ministers act atrociously in public?  I have concluded that the following guideline applies:

If a Preacher volunteers the information that he is a "Minister" in the first SIXTY SECONDS of a conversation........RUN LIKE **LL......(literally).

Sorry, no way to candy-coat that advice. 

If they feel it necessary, in the course of conducting an ordinary business transaction, to LET YOU KNOW UP FRONT that they "are a Minister", then there is a 99% chance that they are not a Humble Man of God, and instead suffer from a "God Complex."

They will make unreasonable demands, complain, and expect you to give them everything for free or at a discount.  They will openly express their hatred, disgust, and frustration. 

My last 4 experiences at work with Ministers have made me ashamed and embarassed to say that I, too, was a Christian.

I know, I know, you're thinking, "But, they're normal people, just the same as you and I."

WRONG.

When they made the conscious decision to be ordained as a Minister, they should have realized that the rest of their life would be scrutinized under a magnifying glass.  That THEY would, quite possibly, be the ONLY BIBLE THAT SOMEONE MIGHT EVER READ.  Wow, what a huge responsibility. 

But,  I didn't twist their arm until they said "Uncle" and make them get ordained, either.

It deeply saddens me when I have a Minister come into the store, promptly anounce that he is a Minister, and then proceed to shame even GOD.  And that goes for your Church Secretary, too.  If you send her on an errand, please make sure that she's capable of properly representing your Church.  Oh,...yeah,.....you MIGHT want to do that a little earlier, like maybe BEFORE you hire her.   She may be the only contact a Non-Christian has when they deal with your church.


I actually heard an employee, who was not a Christian, say, "If that's what a Preacher acts like, why would I want to be a Christian?"   WOW.   

On the flip side of that coin, I personally know a few Ministers and Church Staff members who I think God smiles down on every time they walk into a public place.  Everytime I've ever seen them in public, they were the kind of person whose very PERSONA screamed, "I am a Christian," and their actions proceeded to reflect such, even when they didn't know anyone was watching.  I wanna make God SMILE, and THAT is what makes God smile.

So, in 100% truly Genuine "Dusty Style,"  I am not going to sit on my hands any more.   I am going to politely inform the next Minister or Church Staff member I encounter in a public place who is MISBEHAVING, that they are embarassing me.  This should be interesting.  I'll let you know how that one goes.


Well, I'm behind a small pickup truck at a red light this morning, and apparently the Marlboro Man is driving it.  He is smoking a cigarette with the WINDOWS ROLLED COMPLETELY UP. 

Now, as a former smoker (in a previous life), I am here to tell you, at some point, with no window cracked, THE smoke and Carbon Monoxide in that truck will make it impossible to:

1.  See the other traffic/people around you.
2.  Breathe.

So, I'm thinking, "I KNOW there is a metaphor in all that foggy, hazy, cloudy mess."

That's it.  Plain and simple. 

The next time you go out in public, STOP, roll down the proverbial windows so that you can see those stuck in traffic around you, and if the situation gets tough and makes you want to lose your religion, TAKE A DEEP BREATH, and remember that you represent MY GOD, MY SAVIOR, AND MY JESUS.   

And I take that very personally.

I was going to skip ALL THINGS REMOTELY RELIGIOUS tonight in order to blog about my 76-year-old Mother-in-Law, Frances, and her strange otherworldly idiosyncrasies, but Tristan happened to walk by the computer just now....<sigh>...THIS is why I blog at night after everyone is in bed.

So, now that Tristan has left the room, I will keep my word, and there will be NO ranting and raving about how Frances uses long distance calling cards to call our house from HUNTSVILLE, Alabama which causes our Caller I.D. to read exotic faraway places like: "Tempe, AZ",  "Atlanta, GA", "Bangor, ME", or even "Fort Worth, TX."   I'm always afraid it's some nut-job who has the wrong number, and I never know whether to answer the phone or not.  Her mom never understands why I act surprised when I answer and hear her voice on the other end.

No mindless drivel about how when she comes to visit, she cleans out her refrigerator at home and brings everything in either a Bread wrapper or a plastic Margarine dish, marked neatly with masking tape and a #2 pencil. 

For the first week after she arrives, the fridge is a place of mystery, and even the kids are afraid to go there.

I won't mention the fact that she drives her Oldsmobile FIFTY-NINE MILES PER HOUR on Interstate 65, coming down here from Huntsville.  She read somewhere that if you go SIXTY or above, it will cut your gas mileage in half.  Apparently it's worth saving a nickel to get CREAMED by a Kenworth running EIGHTY.

I won't talk about how terrified she is and always complaining that we allow our kids to do dangerous, wild and earthshattering FEATS OF TOMFOOLERY like <GASP>:     Riding bicycles without helmets,  Swimming in public swimming pools,  Playing outdoors where mosquitos MAY roam, Going near underbrush which MAY contain Poison Ivy, and occasionally even RUNNING WITH BLUNT SCISSORS.

I have to keep in mind that Frances is 76 years old, is technically Tristan's grandmother (she raised her, so to Tristan she IS "MOM"), and has put up with ME, (despite the fact that she is from another planet outside our Solar System.)

Frances unselfishly goes the second mile, even when she is not physically able, and never complains.  She drives down and stays with us for WEEKS at a time, cooks, cleans, and allows us the opportunity to spend time alone together while she watches the kids.  We have not had to hire a babysitter in 7 years, that I can ever remember.

She never complains when I retreat down the hallway to the bedroom in the evening, wearing only a towel, which I ALWAYS "accidentally" allow to drop just as I round the corner out of sight.  She just shakes her head, smiles, and swears under her breath.

She shakes her head and smiles when we refer to her as "The Old Lady" and remind her that she is as old as some of our antique furniture.

She just shakes her head and smiles when Tristan and I try to gross her out with a Public Display of Affection.  I don't think that phases her after 76 years.  She and Thomas Jefferson probably invented kissing.

She just shakes her head and smiles when I "FORGET" she is here, and wander into the kitchen in the morning wearing only a pair of boxer briefs.

I've never called her "Frances", it's always been "Mom", since DAY ONE, almost 10 years ago. 

I started this blog tonight to COMPLAIN, but after all that, I've realized that I can truly say, "I HAVE THE BEST MOTHER-IN-LAW IN THE WORLD."

All in all, Frances is a pretty incredible old lady, I couldn't ask for a better mother-in-law, and I wouldn't trade her for the world.

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But she's still a fruitcake.

It seemed like it rained ALL WEEKEND.

It's funny how something small, like rain, will remind me of a specific moment, frozen in time.  One of those memories that is permanently emblazoned across the retentive canvas of my mind:

About 2 years ago, for my birthday, Tristan surprised me with tickets to go see Michael W. Smith at Oak Mountain Amphitheatre  (Sorry, Verizon Wireless, with your attempt at the Commercialization of a venue that was, is, and always will be an ICON, it will always be "OAK MOUNTAIN" to me.  CAN YA HEAR THAT NOW?)

Michael W. Smith has always been my favorite musician.  I remember hearing him play back in the early 80's at a small camp called Kanakuk in Missouri.  He was nobody back then, and neither was the camp.  They have both since hit the big leagues.

So, just as he starts to play his new song, "Healing Rain" (NEVER played before in a concert, as the album hadn't been released yet), it begins to rain.  Just a light drizzle at first, then harder.  The entire crowd just stood there singing, in the downpour.  It was one of those moments that you never forget.

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This whole weekend has been a weekend of healing:

1.  Tristan worked 30+ hours in two days this weekend, and has spent the entire day today "Healing"  She has blisters on her feet and pulled her back out a little.
2.  I went to a wonderful Memorial Service for a woman whom I never even met, but got to experience the "Healing" already taking place in the lives of family she left here on earth.
3.  My pastor just had knee surgery and talked about the healing in his sermon this morning.
4.  I look down at Gabriel this afternoon and he is covered in band-aids.  Apparently he found an ENTIRE box of band-aids and proceeded to cover every mosquito bite, freckle, scratch or bump on his little body...in a 5-year-old's attempt to "Heal." 
5.  I put on my Casting Crowns CD just now, and I SWEAR, as I write this, "Praise you in this Storm" starts playing.  God-Eerie.

Everywhere I turn this weekend, it's either HEALING or RAIN.

What is God trying to tell me this weekend?  Sorry, no deep words of wisdom here, cause I don't have a clue. 

But I bet you that some long needed, long awaited Healing for someone will occur along the way.

I have felt for YEARS that something was wrong with the way I thought, the way my mind worked.  I have always voiced my opinion, somewhat loudly, when I saw something that wasn't right or was UNJUST.  I'm not a complainer, because my comments and grumblings are always followed up with suggestions for improvement or for CHANGE.

I have pretty much always been stiffled and told not to talk so much.  I don't care anymore.  I read this today, and it FLOORED ME:

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Visions are born in the soul of a man or woman who is consumed with the tension between what is and what could be. Anyone who is emotionally involved - frustrated, brokenhearted, maybe even angry - about the way things are in light of the way they believe things could be, is a candidate for a vision.

Visions form in the hearts of those who are not satisfied with the status quo. Vision evokes emotion. Vision drives motivation. Vision gives direction. Vision translates into purpose. No two snowflakes are alike - nor are our visions.

- From "Visioneering" by Andy Stanley

 

Tristan and I are childless last night, and we go to Barnes and Noble (the bookstore I can't afford, but like to read books in). And I find this book called, "Surprise Me, God" by Terry Esau (please see www.surprisemegod.com for more details). But, the premise of the book is this:

"What if Every day, for thirty days, I pray and ask God to surprise me? "Surprise Me, God." Nothing more, nothing less. Three words. Not asking for something in particular. Not giving him my list. Not presenting my agenda. Just inviting him to barge into my life in any old way he pleases-to crash into the busyness of my schedule and mess with it."

Cool Idea. So, I pray that when I wake up this morning. Then, I roll over, realizing I have a few extra minutes to snooze before work, and flip on the T.V.

SURPRISE!  Did you know that Richard Scrushy has an Evangelistic Television show? I find this deeply confusing, a gamut of emotions. I mean, none of us are perfect, but I think I would tuck my tail between my legs and HIDE if I had been through what that man has, whether he got "acquitted" or not. I don't think I would start the "Wayne's World for Jesus" on some cable access low-budget television station, or start a church. I don't know if I find Richard's "move" to start a ministry BOLD and COURAGEOUS or STUPID.  For the LOVE OF GOD though, man, can you think of ANY OTHER WAY to make Christians look dumb??!? 

At least he's not wearing a visor and a fanny-pack.

Thanks, God, that was DEFINITELY A SURPRISE!

I'm not sure how this Surprise Me, God thing is going to go over, but I think I'll give it a shot.

Oh, yeah, and Richard?  You are formally invited to ride with me downtown to Linn Park to feed hotdogs to the homeless.  You might want to lose the Suit, though.  

Dusty out.

Ok, the title of this blog is really more to generate some hits from the Unchurched Blog LURKERS out there in hopes that they can see that not all Christians are stuffy and wear sunvisors and fannypacks, as it really is irrelevant to today's blog.  If it offends thee, GET OVER IT.......

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I think God wakes me up sometimes.  This morning I woke up at 5:30.  I NEVER wake up before the alarm, unless I have to use the facilities.   It also happens to be Tuesday, and I have a Men's Group that meets at 6:30 at church.   This is the 3rd Tuesday morning in a row this has happened.  Kind of oddly, Godly coincidental.

I get there this morning and it's mostly the usual group.   I shake hands with a new guy named "John", and don't think much about it.  He looks average age, average build, average hair/clothes, nothing out of the ordinary, and I'm way too sleepy to be judging people anyhow,......plus that's not really my forte.

So, we get down to business ....... about Jesus sending us all out into the world to be disciples, and make disciples of others.   This is something I've been struggling alot with lately, as I am on a "Missions Mission," and it just bothers me...

It bothers me to see everyone (the majority) around me in life more concerned with their worldly possessions, and their Cars, and their Houses, and their Vacation homes, and their Credit, and their Boats, etc, etc, etc, puke.

I mean, what happens when 60 (or less) years from now we get in front of God and He says, "Hey, Dusty, good to see you made it up here.  I was a little worried about you there for a while, but you made it, eh?  By the way, about that whole 'Making disciples, winning souls, feeding the unfed, taking care of my sheep THING'....did you get a chance to work on it any?"

What am I going to say, "Oh, sorry, God, you see I got REALLY busy trying to make sure I took care of my family.  I mean, they had to wear the best clothes, and have the nicest of everything.   I couldn't drive them around town in a piece of junk, it had to look good.  I had to make sure we had a large all-brick house, cause YOU KNOW, a small siding house wouldn't have worked out.   We wouldn't have had room for a Play Room for the kids for all their worldly possessions that we started building up for them at a young age.   I was gonna get around to that whole 'humbleness' thing, God, but I just never got a chance."

Remember as a kid,  that look in your Dad's eyes when you did something that disappointed him?  That was usually punishment enough to know you had let your dad down.

Ok, now imagine the look in God's eyes.

I don't think I want to see it.

I want to be the one with the "Heaven SPEED PASS", that gets to go to the front of the line, like those jerks at Six Flags that paid the extra 40 bucks.

SOOOOOOOO, with that tangent out of the way.......

This guy, "John", introduces himself and tells a little about himself.....(I hope I got his whole story pretty accurate..)  He appears very quiet, humble, unassuming, but once he begins to speak, his method is eloquent yet simple at the same time, completely captivating, causing you to hang on every word he speaks......

He's 33, married, 4 kids, and been a Christian for about 9 years.  About 4 years ago, God told him to move to China.  He had no formal Bible College/Seminary education, but just knew that God had told him to go, and he better obey.

After about 30 days in China, and having not really figured out his purpose there yet, he fell to his knees in his living room one night, crying, asking God, "WHY?  Why did you send me?  Are you sure you have the right guy?   I don't KNOW WHAT I'M DOING, and I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DO THIS!"

God told him, "I know you don't. BUT I DO.  Trust me."

Wow.  I mean, WOW.   So that pretty much shoots the lid off of anyone's theory of "I can't be used by God, what could I DO?"  or "I don't have any training."

So, for the past 4 years or so, he's been in China with his family apparently doing some wonderful things.   Now he's home in the states.  He doesn't know what for, but God told him to come home, because He's got plans for him here.

I know what one of God's plans was for him.......to show up at Mountaintop at 6:30 A.M. this morning.

I started this category for people to post prayer requests.  I'm trying to start being a "deeper prayer warrior", and this will give me stuff to talk about in case God and I run out of stuff when I'm praying, and there's that long, akward "first date" silence......    Which I seriously doubt will ever happen, but I gotta be prepared.

Today I skipped church, fixed the A/C in my car, got about $2,000 worth of FREE Polo, Izod, Tommy Bahama clothes, and fought (and made up) with my wife.

It's like a power struggle between God (in me) and the Devil. 

The kids were gone to Grandpa's last night, so Tristan and I went to see Poseidon at the IMAX.  Pretty cool.  The only way it could have been better is if it had been more "sensory", like they would have turned on the sprinkler system or something.  I highly recommend seeing it, (it's pretty spectacular), especially if you are in a position like maybe.....MEDIA DIRECTOR or something. 

So, we sleep through Alarm clock #1, and then through Alarm clock #2, and it's too late to make the early service at church.  Then Kipp calls, and I have the opportunity to go get the A/C in my car fixed at a buddy's house.   The buddy only works on cars when he feels like it, but it's worth the sacrifice because he's GOOD and CHEAP and HONEST.

Off to Walker County where I spend all day getting my A/C fixed, along with a hole in my muffler and some other little things.   I decide to stop by Mom and Dad's on my way back to B'ham, and Dad has just gone through his closet.   I leave his house with the ENTIRE (I kid you not) back seat of my car full of clothes. Summer clothes, winter clothes, jeans, sweatshirts, shorts.

The kicker?  He and my mom have classy taste.  Every single piece is Eddie Bauer, Ralph Lauren, Tommy Bahama, Tommy Hilfiger, etc...      Looks like there will be NO Wal-Mart shirts for me this year.  I could care less what I wear, but it always ROCKS to have a few nice things, especially if they are FREE.

I will be SO SEXY in my new clothes driving my beat-up car.   If only I had a little bling-bling.

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In other news, my 5 year old, Gabriel, has been at Grandma's all week and came home terrified of using the bathroom.  He is lactose intolerant, and can get diarrhea if he eats too many dairy products, but he instead appears to be the opposite, and he is, for lack of a better word, "clogged" or "egg-bound", like when you eat too many boiled eggs.

Off we go to CVS.  I'm not sure what Castor Oil tastes like, but it is pronounced just like the motor oil I put in my car.  We end up with Ex-lax.  I mean, what kid doesn't like chocolate?

So, we're standing there in CVS, and there's this guy and his wife that have been wandering around CVS for about 30 minutes.  I think they're both stoned out of their gourds.  He looks like Earl from My Name is Earl, and they're laughing their butts off.  They have an entire shopping cart full of Pringles, Twinkies, and Coke, and maybe they have a Chlorine allergy and went swimming today, and THAT'S why they're lookin' for the VISINE aisle, but I doubt it.

After about 30 minutes of perusing the entire "My-butt-has-problems" aisle, and being circled like vultures by the Hippie couple, I am now convinced they want to eat US.  So, trying to be funny, and ready to get out of there, I turn to Tristan with the box of chocolate Exlax, and said, "Ok, let's just get this.  And, HEY, we can make some REALLY GOOD brownies with what is left over."

OK, WRONG THING TO SAY within earshot of the potheads.  The guy turns to me and says, "Dude, where do you live?  I LOVE brownies."  

True Story.  I was speechless.

I am the only person I know that has the most BIZARRE experiences in the most BIZARRE places.  If you ever want to have fun, just call me up and ask me to go to Wal-Mart with you.  I assure you.  Something strange will happen.

So, I'm thinking.   Everything we do has a purpose and a reason for God.  Things just don't happen on accident.   So, everyday I ask God, what does all this BIZARRE stuff mean???  So, where does all this lead?

I think God is preparing me to DO or GO someplace bigger and better.  I now have air-conditioning, so it's going to be somewhere hot.  I have experience in curing ailments like constipation.  I'm good with handling strange situations and strange people.  And I just had an epiphany. 

I think I'm going to be a missionary to circus CARNIES.

 

 

Something just dawned on me this morning (this happens frequently, as I drive the "Short Bus for Jesus"), plus the one hour commute each way doesn't hurt either.  I'm listening to Casting Crowns new album "Lifesongs"...I usually don't buy albums, I copy them illegally from other people, but they had a $5.00 off coupon at the Christian bookstore here in T-town yesterday, and I figure that illegally copying a Christian album is like buying a One-Way Express Ticket to hell.

 

But, it dawned on me.  I had been thinking/meditating/praying about Faith alot lately.  I'm not a super-Christian by any means, but I think I figured out one of the keys to Faith.

 

Poverty and humbleness brings faith.  I'm not POOR, but I'm definitely not RICH.  I have been financially "down and out."   Tris and I had some hard times in the last few years.  We have had a house foreclosed on, had a car repo'ed, filed bankruptcy, had our credit destroyed. 

 

Try hitting ROCK BOTTOM and not knowing where you are going to live when you get served with papers that tell you that you have 48 hours to be out of your house.   Your whole perspective on life will forever change from that point on.   All the things you took for granted will now seem like a BIG deal.  That will make you humble, and Faith is just the next natural step (or if you’re not careful, you can fall into depression and end up homeless…)  

 

When you hit bottom, there's nothing left but faith, and nowhere to go but UP.  And if you learn to DEAL WITH IT and accept it, it can be a fun journey UPWARDS.   It doesn't have to be all about crying and hardship..... 

 

I realized this morning that I have driven to work EVERY DAY for the past 3 months in a Sixteen Year old car with 256,000 miles that I bought sight-unseen for $613 on Ebay, and NEVER THOUGHT ONCE about whether or not it was going to leave me stranded.  It could quit on me tomorrow, but I don't sit and worry about it.  At least I HAVE a car.  I'm just grateful for that.

 

I didn’t share all this as a “sob-story” or to make anyone feel sorry for me.  I’ve said it before in a previous blog, but I am HAPPY this way.  Tristan tells me on a regular basis that she LOVES OUR LIFE.  Yea, it would be nice to have a big house and a nice car, but we have learned to appreciate what we have, and take nothing for granted.

 

I don’t think I necessarily woke up one day and said, “I’m going to have faith today!”  It just kind of evolved, just as my character evolves daily.

 

THAT IS WHAT FAITH IS TO ME.

 

And, on a lighter note, since all of my new friends are YANKEES and Hockey Fans, this one is for “YA’LL”:

Wow.   What a WACKY, WACKY, weird, odd, strange, yet wonderfully pleasant 24 hours.

In case you haven't noticed, I now am the RULER OF MY OWN DOMAIN, www.mdgraham.com.  This isn't really anything new, as I've had domain names before. 

"Back in the day" (i.e. Before everyone else was doing it), I used to buy domain names and re-sell them.  I never got rich, but I did OK with it.  

I had to let my blog on MySpace go, as I didn't appreciate being bombarded with half-naked girls everytime I signed in.   I toyed with several domain names, but they were all kind of cheesy or they were already taken.   The only one I hesitated on was DevilSucks.com, but it kind of needed the word "THE" in front of it, and that was just WAY TOO LONG and hard, kind of like "Podraza" or "Gottlieb."

So, here I am.  In case you are wondering about the "MD" in front of Graham, I am, in fact, A DOCTOR.  Yes, it's true.  Being the humble person I am, I haven't advertised it much, but I guess the word is out now.

At any rate, back to the story:

The last 24 hours.....

I finally met the girl at church with blue hair and her husband, Jay and Stephanie.  I had blogged about them about a month ago.  I felt like I was going to eventually play a part in their lives, or maybe they in mine or something. 

So, Tristan gets up and leaves the Church Service during the singing to go make a phone call.  She doesn't come back for about 10 minutes, so I go out into the Atrium to check on her, and she's sitting at a big table talking to Jay and Stephanie.

They are really cool and down to earth.  I don't know why, but I thought they lived far away, but they live right around the corner from us in Vestavia.

So, Tris and I went downtown with Jay after church last night and he introduced us to a friend of his who does Tattoos.  I want a cross made of spikes, but I can't decide between my CALF and my upper ARM.  Any thoughts?  Anyone?

So, then this morning I drove a good friend's mother's "Cremation Remains" to work with me, so that I can ship them to Florida.  I don't mind a bit, as I would do anything for this person and her husband, but it was just a NEW EXPERIENCE, and the responsiblility of anything happening to the shipment made me a little nervous.  It's an honor that someone would trust me with that responsibility, though.  SO PRAY, PRAY, PRAY. 

Ms. Nancy got to hear me sing "Lifesong" by Casting Crowns at the top of my lungs over and over again.   I can't wait to get to Heaven and meet her.  It'll be kind of cool.  I'll be like, "Remember me?  I'm the one that let you ride in the front seat and I sang really loud for you."  She'll be like, "Yea, and I've been up here HOPING you didn't quit your day job."

So, to Ms. Nancy:

I never got to meet you in person, but I saw your picture.  I got to take a short roadtrip with you, and I will always remember and cherish it.  I will meet you again someday, so don't forget me.  I won't forget you. 

Dusty

 

JESUS LOVES YOU and He wants you to get off your cellphone and drive.

I drive a 1990 Toyota Camry with 256,xxx miles.  Do you think I CARE about your cell phone converstaion in your Lexus?!?!?

I could be UN-Insured.  You never know.

SO HANG UP.

Wow.  Sorry I haven't blogged in a while (except for the god-awful Redneck picture).

It's not that I haven't been excited about the journey, it's just been so overwhelming all at once, and then my A.D.D. kicks in.

Where to start?

Well, the feeding of the 5,000 was officially a success.

Geoff, my daughter Windsor and I, and my brother Kipp, show up at Linn Park on Saturday.  I'm kind of apprehensive, thinking, "Great, we'll stand there all day with 80 hotdogs and 30 pounds of bananas and no one will show up to eat."

WRONG.  They (the homeless of Linn Park) were helping us unload the car and carry stuff from the minute we showed up.

AMAZING.  I don't know any other way to describe it.  

By my nearest calculations, we fed about 60-80 people with less than about $75.  I want to do it again, but "funding the efforts" may become an issue. 

SO, with that said, if you are RICH, and would like to help, please let me know.

Tristan and I joined the church on Sunday.  They do it a little different than the churches I was accustomed to (please see "The church formerly known as Rumplestiltskin" section.)   But, I liked the way they did it.  You attend a 3 hour "Membership 101 Class", and they basically just tell you what the church believes, what is expected of you, etc, etc.   There's some accountability in place that way, and that's a GOOD THING.

Monday I took a whirlwind tour of the world after work.  I met up with about 6 other guys from church and took the church Minivan to Nashville to hear Rob Bell speak.  Please see www.Nooma.com for more info on Rob Bell.  (Click the "Rain" video at the bottom and you can watch the whole 15 minute thing.)

Oh yeah, here's a picture of us before we left:

Rob Bell is an INCREDIBLE speaker who has a church called Mars Hill in Grand Rapids, Michigan.  (Not to be confused with Mars Hill church in Seattle, WA.  That would be Mark Driscoll, the "cussing preacher."  He's one of my favorites, too, though.)

ROB BELL: 

 

Rob spoke at this incredibly cool place called Rocketown in Nashville.  It was a converted warehouse space that had been made into a Concert Venue/Skate Park/Coffee House.   REALLY COOL.

Then, I got up before work for 6:30 A.M. Bible Study at church the following morning (after having gotten to bed at 2:30 AM the night before.)

At any rate, I'm reading a lot of good books, I've put down the TV remote, I'm trying to spend more time with wife/kids, and just trying to become a better husband/father/Christian.

So, with all that said,  in no particular order, and with no names mentioned (in case you are in the witness protection program),  THANKS TO:

1.  GOD.  ( 'nuff said.)

2.  "P" for the mentorship and encouragement.  For "loving me just as Christ loved the Church," and putting up with my sarcasm.

3.  "G" for finding me (me finding you?), and for being on the same wavelength and same mission, and for having a heart of Gold that TRULY wants to serve.

4.  Tris.  For putting up with my "quirks," and for being an INCREDIBLY supportive wife, lover, and best friend.  You are TRULY my soulmate and I love you with every bit of my exsistence.

5.  Mountaintop Community Church.  For being the coolest, kick-butt church I have EVER been to (and there have been a lot!), for accepting anyone and everyone EXACTLY the way they are. 

6.  "V" for the card of encouragement, and for just being OUT THERE (literally!) and knowing that there is someone else who has been/is going through it all.

7.  "K.M.Y" for reading my emails and listening to my rants and raves.  Even though you're really busy, I know you're always listening.  I guess you're kind of like God in that sense.

8.  To anyone else I'm forgetting, who has affected my life, whether good or bad.  If good, THANK YOU.   If bad, THANK YOU, TOO, whether you meant to or not, you've helped me to grow, also.  So the jokes on YOU.

Ok, so I went shopping and to lunch today.  Alone.  by Myself.  In public places.

Those of you that know me are aware that EVEN THOUGH I am outgoing, I have a morbid fear of going shopping, dining out, etc... by myself. What if I choke while I'm eating or go unconscious?  Will some nasty old woman give me mouth-to-mouth?   What if they steal my wallet?  What if, on the way to the Hospital, they discover I'm not wearing underwear today?

"Autophobia" is described as the fear of solitude or the fear of being alone.  "Agoraphobia" is the fear of public places.  So I think I have AUTOAGORAPHOBIA.  I dunno, I'm weird.

In researching PHOBIAS just now, I found that "GENOphobia" is the fear of sex.  That's odd.  I would be afraid of sex, too, if it was with someone named "GENO."

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So, I pray all the way there, and somehow manage to go into Books-a-Million and am browsing through the Bargain Books, and I find a book called, "The Lost Books of the Bible."  I was aware that these books existed, and knew they were referred to as the "Apocrypha", but I had never really given it any deep thought until I picked this book up and was flipping through it.

I always wondered why Jesus' life started with Birth, and then there is this 20 year GAP.  Did He not have a childhood?  Did He have a lemonade stand like I did when I was a kid?  Did He build a treehouse?  Maybe He set up a neighborhood Camel Wash.  Would He shovel sand off your sidewalk for a few bucks?  Did He have a fairly NORMAL childhood?

Was Mary just some random Virgin chosen to bear Jesus?  Where was she before He was born?

So, I'm not sure what the Organized Religion/Christian view on these books are, but since I don't really care anyhow, as my own views are formulated between myself and my Heavenly Father, I bought the book, and I'm going to research it and come to my own judgement.  I'll keep you posted on that one.

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So I leave there and decide to eat at the "Scary Mall", as I like to refer to it.  THE MCFARLAND MALL.  It's right by our store, it's old, its smells, it was decorated in grey/mauve in about 1981, there is never anyone except REALLY OLD LONELY people there, and about 50f the stores are empty.

But, they have a Food Court with some pretty decent chicken fajitas.  It's the same guy cooking all the time, and he calls me "Amigo."  I think that may be the only word he's ever spoken to me, as a matter of fact.  He no speako English, and me no speako Espanish.

The food court in the McFarland Mall is a lot like the set of the movie "Cocoon." 

So, I'm sitting there eating my fajitas and drinking my Metamucil, wondering if I should have worn my EXTRA-THICK Depends Diapers or if my "Oops-I-Crapped-My-Pants" will work out O.K........

And I realize that they are filming a TV SHOW in the Food Court.  They have a little stage set up with some God-awful wicker furniture and some hideous fake ficus trees.

There is a guy who looks like a blond Ron Burgundy, complete with leisure suit, holding a microphone that is about 2.5 feet long.   The whole thing looks like an episode of "Let's Make a Deal" gone bad.   I'm not close enough to hear who he is interviewing, but apparently what they are saying is downright FUNNY, as they are both laughing hysterically.

Curiousity gets the better of me.  I must move closer.

I pick up my cafeteria tray of fajitas and move closer, which is REALLY OBVIOUS, as there are only about 11 people in the entire mall anyhow and 8 of them are store employees.

They're discussing something about politics and the "Good people of Tuscaloosa" and the "Fine Citizens of Tuscaloosa need this and that...."   Have I ever mentioned that I DETEST politics, especially politicians?

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I walk out of the dingy, dimly lit mall into the bright sunshine, causing me to squint.  I have this throbbing feeling in my head, like I just sat through a 3 hour movie in a dark theater.  It all seems so surreal. 

I think it may be from the beans.  Yep, it's just gas.

IMMUNIZATIONS:  I had to leave work early today to take my 5 year old, Gabriel, to get his Immunizations so he can start Kindergarten in a month or so.  I had been elected to do it, as Tristan is SUPERMOM, but she draws the line at seeing the kids get shots.

I, having been a Paramedic for about 4 years (many, many moons ago), and being the INVINCIBLE father that I am, was therefore elected to take Gabriel.

So, I wrestled with the right approach.  Do I tell him where we're going, and let him anticipate and cry the entire way there?  Do I act like we're going to Chuck E. Cheese, and veer off the road at the Doctor?

I ended up having plenty of time in the waiting area to pray about it, and talk with him about medicine and immunizations.  It broke my heart though, looking at that little face, and knowing how much trust and faith he has in me, and knowing that I was about to disappoint him.

When the time came, he got 3 shots in both thighs.  Now keep in mind that his little thighs are only about 4 inches in circumference, and the needles were about 2 inches long, and looked like they would hit bone.   I think it pained me worse.

I could stick a needle in someone ALL DAY LONG, but when it comes to my kids, that's a different story.  It's tough to watch, knowing that little boy is MY FLESH AND BLOOD, also.

Amazingly enough, he DID NOT CRY, even after the "Syringe Surprise Attack"  by the evil Healthcare witches.

So, I told him how much I loved him, and how proud of him I was afterwards, and told him I would drive him ANYWHERE he wanted to go.  He picked Burger King, cause they have Superman toys in their kid's meals right now.

SARCASM:  It has recently been pointed out to me by someone I consider a close friend that I need to work on my Sarcasm.  Tristan and I have always been that way, at least as long as we've been together, but what causes it?

Insecurity?  Inability to say what is really on our minds, so we "mask" it behind sarcasm?

It's not cool, and it probably becomes very annoying to people, so that is something I am trying to work on.

I don't want to lose my personality completely, but I need to get rid of any words/actions/sarcasm that are damaging or that do not bring glory and honor to God.

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On another note, if you haven't done it lately, WATCH YOUR CHILDREN SLEEP.  They're innocent and beautiful when they're asleep.  Even if they have been the WORST children on earth that day, it all changes when they're asleep.

I LOVE my family.

A comment was made to me at church today, and it just hit me...People are reading my blog.  They are lurking, not posting, but they are reading.  That's a GOOD feeling, don't get me wrong.

Wow.  I knew this would come.  All my friends, whose blogs I read, have gone through this at one time or another,  so I knew it was coming.  I knew that eventually someone OTHER THAN my younger brother would read it.

It just kind of puts it all in a new light.  Responsibility.  Dedication.  Commitment.

Now I'm scared.  People are either extremely bored or actually interested in what I HAVE TO SAY.  The thought that I have something interesting enough to say to hold someone's attention amazes me.

Varied, Diverse, Eclectic.....  That's my writing style.  Don't like it?  Don't read it.  (That's my style, also.)  Now that the pressure is on, and I know I have an audience (however small it may be), I pray that I continue to be ME, and no one else. 

I now feel pressure to change my picture, too....

Goodbye, Flava Flav, you're been a good friend, and I will miss your GOLD smile.

Jeremy Camp

I have been listening to a song lately by Jeremy Camp called "My Desire."  The lyrics have kind of hit home.  Here they are (paraphrased "Dusty style", of course) :

You want to be real, you want to be empty inside
You want to be someone, laying down your pride
You want to be someone, someday
Then lay it all down before the king.

You want to be whole, you want to have purpose inside.
You want to have virtue, and purify your mind.

You want to be set free today,
Then lay it all down before the King.

This is my desire, this is my return.
This is my desire to be used by You.

You want to be real, you want to be empty inside.
And I know my heart is to feel You near,
And I know my life is to do your will.

All my life I have seen
Where You've take me.
Beyond all I have hoped,
And there's more left unseen.

There's not much I can do to repay all You've done
So I give my hands to use.

I just realized that I refer too much to the "Old Church."  Although this was my only basis for comparison to the "New Church," and I used it merely for proving points,  I think I've worn it out.  I must leave the old parishoners to rest and suffer in their own misery, God bless them all.  I had some good friends there and good times.  If they are meant to be, I will see them again. (Insert Moment of Silence here.)

So, you are all hereby notified that I am closing that chapter on my life, and will henceforth never refer to the old Methodist church again.   I am moving on.  If there is an absolute emergency and I absolutely MUST refer to the old church, it will now be referred to as "Rumplestiltskin."

Life is pretty good.  My wife lost her cell phone today, so we are praying for it.  I've never prayed for a cellphone before.   May the Nokia gods return it safely to us, as we had no insurance on it.  Otherwise I think I will have to get her a 10 pound Bag-Phone, that will be a little harder to lose.

She feels horrible about it as it is.  She feels like she let me down.  But in the words of my 90 year old grandfather, who was formerly a psychologist, "This too shall pass."   You know, it's not the end of the world.  I told her, "Hey, it was just a cell phone you lost, at least it wasn't one of the kids."  (Not a good comment, by the way...)

But you know, it's strange.  Ordinarily, I would have been fuming.  And I did..... for all of about  10 minutes on the way to church.  And then I walked late into the Sanctuary at church for Wednesday night service, just in time to hear Kevin pray, "Lord help us to put our worries and concerns aside for the next 45 minutes to an hour and focus on YOU." (paraphrased), .......And then I had peace come over me, and I didn't care.

Kind of neat stuff.  I think maybe this more of the start of the new Dusty.

I don't know about this whole "Holiday in the middle of the week" thing.  July 4th falling on a Tuesday has me really fouled up.  It's Holiday Lag.

Anyhow,  my four-day weekend was good.  Hung out with friends, a little bit with family (just my brother).  I guess I should have called the rest of the family and wished them a "Happy 4th", but they didn't call me, so there's no hard feelings there.  We're a weird family, and I'm good with that.

I had a couple of thoughts lately:

#1 - Tattoos:  What if I had "I LOVE JESUS" tattooed on my arm?  How would I act?  Would I act differently?  Would I think twice before I showed my BUTT in the middle of a store?  Or before I did something I knew I shouldn't?  It would be the Jesus remedy for "Unsportsmanlike Conduct."  

This has been on my mind lately, because I now have a few "religious" (for lack of a better word) bumper stickers on my car.  My whole thinking pattern has changed when driving.   Try it.  You think twice about the old "middle-finger" thing in retaliation to someone who runs you off the road in traffic.  I actually STUCK MY TONGUE OUT at someone the other day, instead (And wiggled my fingers in my ears...)  They laughed, and apparently forgot about the road rage.

So, what if I had really visible Jesus tattoos instead, like on my FOREARM?  Not just the little Cross on the ankle that everybody has, but something UNIQUE and BIG and BOLD.  How would my behavior change?  What if it was a really cool tattoo, and people asked about it all the time?  Like Jesus' face morphed into a Lion's face, like the lion of Judah, or something weird like that, but not sacreligious?  Would it be a chance to witness to them?

Oh yeah, and YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE, this verse is for you.....hehehehe:

Exodus 32:2 (King James Version)

# 2 - Weird People:  We have no normal people at our church.  (Myself included.) 

Old church:  Everyone was originally from the South, grew up in the same church, was fairly boring, worked at normal White-collar jobs, lived in a 250k house, had 2.5 kids, a Volvo, a Mercedes, and a cat or dog.

New church:  About half the membership is from somewhere OTHER than the South, everyone has really cool, fun, interesting jobs.  Everyone (for the most part), drives normal, practical cars, and lives in modest houses.

Maybe I'm just making friends with a different type of people than what I used to have.  I like it.  I like THEM.  They're not phony, they're REAL.

I just realized the other night when we had people over to eat, that for the first time in a long time, when people came to our house (not that we ever had people over anyhow), I was NOT EMBARASSED that I didn't live in a $250,000 house like everyone else in Vestavia.   I didn't feel self-concious, and wonder if they were looking down their noses at me.

Have I changed or has my choice in friends?

#3 - Drinking:

If you feel it necessary to drink, please do so.   I don't feel that there is anything wrong with it in MODERATION.  But please tell me how many people you know that are capable of drinking ONE BEER, or ONE Glass of wine.

There are some that can, but unfortunately, I know more that can't.

So, if you feel it necessary to cross the "moderation line,"  please be mindful of those around you.  We may be the ones that get stuck driving your drunk butt home, or apologizing to FAMILY for the way you acted, or there might be alcoholics around you that are struggling with their alcoholism.  You never know.

It's easy to have a drink and let your guard down, and not care about the feelings of those around you.  TRUST ME, I KNOW.  I think I earned a Merit Badge in that department.

If you can't control yourself, though, then maybe you need to drink in the privacy of your own home.  I have a right to enjoy myself in public, just as much as you have a right to get trashed in public.

By the way, this RANT was NOT triggered by any recent incident, so everybody chill out, nobody did anything wrong!!!  hehehehehe   It's just the culmination of several years of observations, frustrations, and experiences.

#4- Family:  I have neglected my wife and kids.  They are my best friends, but sometimes I'm not as patient with them as I should be.  I should take the time listen, I mean REALLY LISTEN.  I watched Gabriel in the rearview mirror on the way home tonight.  He just looked out the window into the rainy darkness for about 20 minutes straight.  What on EARTH goes through a 5 year old's mind for that long?  Is he scared?  What is he thinking about?

I need to learn to shut up and LISTEN.  Being an extravert, I struggle with listening. I am constantly wondering and thinking about others and their feelings, but feel it necessary to verbalize it, when I should be listening.

------------------------------------

Anyhow, that's about it for the night.  I made a couple of new friends over the last few weeks.  If you read this, you know who you are.  If you DON'T read this, then you'll probably figure out who you are as our friendship grows stronger.   Thanks for being "real", and not phony.  I look forward to many long years of friendship.

Gotta go, hopefully someone is still awake.  Maybe one of the kids, or maybe Tristan.  If not, I think I'll watch The Pink Panther.  Good night.

I was reading something the other night, and someone posed the question, "What is your Life Verse?"  I guess I never really had one specific verse, as there are quite a few that really mean alot to me.  But, if I were FORCED at gunpoint to pick one, it would probably be:

Isaiah 6:8-10

8 Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying,
"Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?"
And I said, "Here am I. Send me!"

So, with that said, I guess I just gotta sit tight and wait on God's "road map" to get here.  Or maybe it's been in the glovebox the whole time. I always overlook the obvious.

Or maybe I've already figured it out. It's all so confusing.  I know where I'm supposed to go, who I'm going with, but not really sure what to do when I get there. 

It's called "Operation G."  That's for Graham/Gottlieb.  We had to have a codename of some sort, or we wouldn't feel important....hehehehe 

For those of you that are thoroughly confused, I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.  Top Secret stuff.   More to come later.

Work like you don't need money,
Love like you've never been hurt,
And dance like no one's watching.

Oh yeah, here's the Katrina pictures I promised.   Sorry for the blurry ones, but they were taken from a moving vehicle:  http://s81.photobucket.com/albums/j205/dustygraham/

Wow, what a wild week.  Tristan and the kids were in Huntsville visiting family, and I feel like I've been around the world.

It's not over yet.  One more day, Friday.  Then a 4 day weekend.....NICE.

I found the website tonight of an old friend:  www.bloodnfiresanantonio.com

This was a guy named Mark Roye.  He and his wife Susie were YOUNG (like probably early 20's) youth ministers at the only COOL church I ever went to growing up (Southern Baptist), back in Springfield, Missouri. 

Part of me wants to email him and find out about his Ministry, but I haven't seen or talked to him since about 1984.  I know he would remember our family, and LOVE to hear from me, but I've just got to figure out the words.

Anyhow, I'm kind of "pumped" about some work that a friend of mine wants to do in downtown Birmingham (Linn Park) with the homeless.  Giving out food, and just talking and listening to people.

I'm on a Missions "course" right now, and those of you that know me, know that I have a one-track mind, so GET ON BOARD or GET OUT OF THE WAY.

Seriously, though, if any of my 3.2 readers want to participate, let me know.

In all my inadequacies,  I have been struggling lately with feeling bad about all my mistakes/errors of the past.  I haven't lived the greatest life, but I was reminded by a good friend of mine that God only used one person who was perfect.

God doesn't need Perfect People.

If you're perfect and disagree with me, please email me.  I will post your picture on my blog page, and send you a complimentary t-shirt.

Now get off my back. 

Hate is a stong word.  Biblically, we shouldn't hate people.  We SHOULD, however, hate evil.

I hate AOL, they are EVIL:  http://www.nbc10.com/news/9406462/detail.html

Just got back from Mississippi (I had to sing the little "jingle" to spell that, does anyone else do that?)

AWESOME experience.  It's always amazing how God brings everything together JUST RIGHT at just the right time, which is usually His time and not ours!

OK, I'm tired, and gotta get up in about 5 hours, so tonight will be short, and I PROMISE there will be pictures later.

10 Observations about Gulfport Mississippi, Hurricane Katrina, and Mountaintop:

1.  There are animals called "sand fleas" that will attack you in your sleep.   However, if you turn on 12 fans simultaneously inside of an army tent, and have one person SNORE all night, it will suceed in scaring them away.

2.  There are some cool people at our church.  Everyone gets along really good, too, regardless of age/sex/creed.

3.  Showering outdoors is rather exhilerating, in a semi-exhibitionist sort of way.

4.  Painting SUCKS, but laying a Roof appears to suck worse.  Painting outdoors does not suck as bad as painting.........LET'S SAY........ a Living Room red for your wife.

5.  If you want to get rich, build a Restaurant or Starbucks in Gulfport, MS within the next 6 months.

6.  Hurricanes are a powerful force that I always made light of.  You have to see the aftermath of one FIRST HAND to comprehend it, though.

7.  Half of the Church vans in the United States are currently located in the Gulf Coast region.

8.  There's probably a reason God had Hurricane Katrina relocate your Casino INLAND.  Take the hint.

9.  Logan's Roadhouse is good, but Boiled Peanuts and some good conversation can be better.

10.  Home, Sweet Home.  There's no place like home.  For my roof and 4 walls, I am ETERNALLY GRATEFUL.

God Bless, and I'm outta here for the night.....

I am typing this from a public access computer inside a church in Gulfport, MS. I came down with Mountaintop to help build some housing for the Relief workers, as well as help with another family's house, as well. It is Saturday night about 7 PM, and everyone is showering, getting ready to go eat. The showers are outdoors in little portable buildings, pretty cool.

We got the WHOLE building put up today, roofed, and painted, electrical run, and all we have left is the Front Door and windows.

I am sunburnt, hot, tired, and sleeping on a cot in a tent tonight (with a Spongebob Squarepants sleeping bag...)

But, HEY, there are people that have had it worse than that for the last 9 months.

We drove along the beach road, and it's pretty amazing, even 9 months afterwards. Whole houses GONE, just foundations remain. Nothing left of a McDonald's but the sign. Pretty wild. Makes you grateful. I will write more and post pictures when I get home Sunday night.

dg

This is terribly frightening.  The man needs mental help.

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=7661095487366390191

If anyone from my old high school, Class of 1990,  reads this, please know that I am alive and well, and thanks for NO COMMUNICATION whatsoever over the last 16 years.  I know I moved away from Missouri, but SURELY you're not all dead.  Maybe you all drank the "Kool-Aid" they were feeding us at our Christian High School run by the well-intentioned, yet mis-guided Baptist Bible Fellowship.  I think they served it at Graduation, and called it "punch", but I didn't drink any.

To Mr. Mowris, my high school Bible teacher at Christian Schools of Springfield:  I know the school was small and struggled financially back in the 80's.  I know you didn't get a paycheck a lot of times, and you taught because you believed strongly in Christian education.  I appreciate that.  But, if you'll check the records, we paid tuition in FULL for 4 kids for probably 10 years. 

The fact remains,  I sold you my 1982 Malibu Classic.  You never paid for it.  I didn't go to college, partially because of that money (not really, but that part sounded good). 

Good News:  I have since heard that the school has gotten it's bills paid up over the last 15 years, and they are doing GREAT financially, and you're still there. 

Better News:  It's time to pay up, WITH interest.  It was only like $750, but you do the math.  (Just in case a Bible teacher can't do Math:  $750 invested for 16 years at 5% interest compounded annually would be $1,637.16, and that's giving you a few years, and a low interest rate.)

Don't make me send Guido after you.  I know you don't want me to have to bust that Malibu through the Pearly Gates into your Heavenly driveway someday, if you know what I mean.

If not, please send the Malibu Classic back.  I liked that car.  It was pimpin'.

WWJD?  Maybe I'm wrong, but He'd pay up.

To Mr. McClure who was once my History/Homeroom teacher and a good "friend" to all of us, but now is the Principal of the school:  Congratulations.  You were always pretty cool.  But as the our class sponsor who we elected to include on our Senior Trip to Washington, D.C., you could have written something more in my Graduation card than, "Thanks for helping me go on the Senior Trip."  That's it.  9 Words, and the final curtain falls.  I saw everyone else's card, and you wrote them each a BOOK.  I saved that card, and it's been bothering me for 16 years. 

To Ms. Shrock:  You rocked.  You were always my favorite.  I hope you're doing good.

To Mr. Ken Brooks, who is now a Basketball Coach somewhere in Indiana or Kentucky:  You were a bully.  I don't know if you were just a "young, fresh out of Baptist Bible College" teacher, but you were a cruel, mean, horrible person, and you owe AT LEAST 300 former students an apology.  Start writing.

I could have just "let this go", but I won't.  On the chance that you are still out there bullying young people as a teacher, I must and WILL post this.  The actions you took as a teacher over 4 years time, were HORRIBLE.

I remember having my mouth duct-taped shut for talking.  What about having a student stand at the front of the class and letting everyone else flip rubberbands and spitballs at them?  Remember that "Spock" thing where you'd squeeze someone's collar bone until they cringed and cried?  Remember "sitting the wall" (crouching in a sitting position with both arms outstretched without being able to lean against anything or support one's self) until my legs started having spasms? 

Remember making someone hold a fire extinguisher straight out in front of them until they were in TEARS in front of everyone else?

Remember all those you picked on who WEREN'T athletic, and weren't members of your elite "Basketball Team"?  Remember how mean you were to those weaker than you?  Remember how many people you humiliated?  Now imagine all the ones that cried behind the scenes.  That held back their emotions until afterwards.  Maybe even YEARS afterwards. 

As much as I am ashamed to say it, and I know it is not the proper Christian attitude, I HATED YOU.  HATED.  H-A-T-E-D.

Good News:  I have forgiven you.  Whether you know it or not, I have forgiven you. 

Better News:  The statute of limitations has probably expired on CHILD ABUSE. 

 Do yourself a favor.  If you have changed, GOOD.  Now go read, "The Wounded Spirit" by Frank Peretti, and think about how many HUNDREDS of lives you affected over those years.  It wasn't just me.

If you have not changed:  God help your soul, and for your sake, pray that you don't work at the next "Columbine." 

Hopefully you were just young and have grown up and wised up.  If not, you probably wouldn't still be alive, as some psycho soccer mom would have assassinated you for doing that to her kid.

Mr. Brooks, Feel free to post a PUBLIC apology or rebuttal, and I will, in turn, leave it on my website for all to see.    Or, if you prefer, I can check into that statute of limitations thing.......

I feel better having gotten all that off my chest.  If anyone out there works with Youth, for GOD'S SAKE, please remember how young and impressionable those fragile minds are.  How different their thought processes are than yours and mine.  Try your BEST to remember how you felt and "thought" at that age. 

I try daily to hold onto the memories of my childhood.  I want to REMEMBER what it felt like to experience something when my son or daughter comes to me crying about the same issue years from now.  I want to truly KNOW their pain.

I don't want to be a KEN BROOKS.

Why did I start this blog?   Maybe to find out if anyone was haunting me from my past.  Maybe not.

 I really don't know.  It is a place for me to vent frustrations, joys, sorrows.   I would keep a physical journal of thoughts, but I am always afraid that I would lose it, and, in effect, "lose my mind." 

 If anyone out there receives a blessing or benefit from this blog, then I have done good.  If I cause someone to STOP and think, then good. 

Lately, I have been reading the blog of someone that I barely even know, and they went through some pretty bad stuff with an online community.   People can sometimes become someone/something online that they are NOT in the "real world."  People gain alot of power, whether it is real or not, by hiding behind a computer screen.  Anyhow, this person's past experiences made me ponder a few things:

I just want to make sure that nothing harmful ever becomes of this blog.  If I offend someone, please email me and let me know that I have offended you, and I will be more than happy to respond (either public or private), and explain my intentions (But not necessarily apologize, if I have done no wrong.  I will, however, take a second look at the situation.)

I am by no means an eloquent person.  I'm a pretty simple person.  I have a mind full of deep thoughts, but they don't always EXIT in the right form.   I think writing helps some, as I am able to go back and correct a thought before the final "POST", an opportunity that I am not always allowed in conversation.

At any rate, ENJOY my ramblings.  I'm just a normal guy.  I wish I was COOL, or GOOD LOOKING (like my Flava Flav picture), but I'm just a normal guy with normal worries, thoughts, and a heart of gold.

Dusty

While reviewing some of my previous blogs, I just realized that in one of them,  I quite carelessly referred to an "old black guy" who was preaching. 

I was afraid this might offend some people, so please let me be POLITICALLY CORRECT.

HERE IS DUSTY'S OFFICIAL "POLITICAL CORRECTION":

  He was BLACK.  I am WHITE.  He was not "African-American."  I didn't get to know him well enough to find out his family tree from 150 years ago, and nor did he care to find out mine.  He would not have referred to me as the "Scottish/Irish/American-descent Guy."

It's really simple.  I was raised in the 1980's in Missouri.  I wasn't brought up around Racism and I never heard the "N-word" until I moved to Alabama.  Some of my best friends are black.

So, people to me are either "Black" or "White", (or Indian, Chinese, whatever....)

I don't consider myself "Caucasian."  I'm WHITE. 

So, if I have offended you, please understand:  By asking me to refer to you by a term other than what I used growing up, you are offending ME.  I am a person that TRULY loves everyone in Christ, whether Black, White, or Purple.

GET OVER IT.  Pick your battles.  Get out and save some souls, or do something that matters for eternity.   That's just plain ignorant, and I think God probably moans everytime someone starts that junk. 

And He might just be BLACK, too.

Ahhhhh....Father's Day.  Waking up early, rolling over in your soft bed while the sun shines lazily through a crack in the curtains.  The smell of Bacon and Eggs, fresh coffee brewing....

WRONG.

Instead I feel sticky little fingers (that kind of smell like stale pancake syrup) prying my eyelids open, saying, "Hiya Dad, open my present." 

There it is:  Gabriel's goofy little 5 year old crooked grin, smiling at me.  His crazy blond hair sticking up wildly , looking vaguely like a Nick Nolte police mugshot. 

He thrust a large giftbag into my hands before I can even sit up.   It says "Happy Birthday" on it and is decorated with Transformers.  I pull out the 165 yards of tissue paper (He must have found every bit of paper in the house), and proceed to peel off the equivalant of 3 rolls of Scotch tape.

It's a Coffee Mug, hand-painted by my little boy, that says, "Daddy's Coffee."  He knows I drink a lot of coffee, so he picked the biggest one.  He informs me that he made it himself at "Painted by U".   It makes the "BUBBA KEGS" at Wal-Mart look tiny in comparison.

Gabriel proceeds to spend the next 10 minutes excitedly telling me every detail of how he made it, including why he painted the inside of the mug BROWN (so I "won't know if it's dirty", he says)   Smart kid.

On to Windsor,  She presents me with a Handmade, hand-painted ceramic plate that says, "Best Dad".  She informs me that I can eat on it or hang it on the wall.  It's up to me.

AWESOME.

I proceed to the bathtub, where I drain the ENTIRE hot water heater into the tub, and settle in with the latest issue of Guideposts (my favorite magazine).  I'm always afraid to read my Bible in the tub, as I sometimes fall asleep.

Fast forward to 9 A.M.  church service.  EXCELLENT sermon about self esteem and the Prodigal Son.  I guess God wrote THAT one specifically for me.  He could have just hit me over the head with a frying pan to get my attention and it would have been a little more subtle. 

The devil made me forget my offering envelope, so I will have to chunk it in this Wednesday's offering basket, or else double up next week.  That bothers me, though.  Now my tithing "planets" are out of alignment.

After church, Tristan had to go to the 10:45 service at our old Methodist church. . Back in January, she had told the 7th and 8th grade girls in the youth group there (with whom she was involved), that she would see their choir performace after they got back from choir tour in June. 

WELL, it was today, and Tristan sprung it on me last night, and asked for my "blessing" and prayers.

I had mixed emotions.  We left the church 6 months ago, and not to sound harsh, but she's not responsible for those kids anymore.  We have moved on, or at least are trying to.

We didn't leave on BAD TERMS, but we had "parted ways" pretty quick with that church.   And my emails to the minister there afterwards, for the WRONGS that he did against us, didn't go over too well, and I vowed to never go back. 

God help all of them, it was just a church with serious problems.  All churches will have their problems, and their "ups and downs", but the members of the staff had turned a blind eye to everything that went on.

The whole time I attended there, I just wanted to shake them all and scream at them, "Don't you get it?" 

 I really don't know how to describe it, and it's sad to say, but I don't think I ever ONCE felt the "presence of God" in our old church.  Maybe it was just me, and maybe it wasn't.  It's not my place to judge.  I know that sounds crazy, and I'm not talking about the warm, happy, fuzzy feeling you get when they play praise music and you get teary eyed.  I'm not a saint, but I'm far enough along in my walk with God to know the difference.

I have watched, not first hand, but heard through the grapevine, that a few marriages, classes, staff, etc...  has fallen apart there lately.   That's a shame, and it both saddens and angers me.  I don't think that's how God ever intended the church to be.  If the parishoners are having that many problems, then apparently the "Shepherds" are not doing a good job of training their "flock."  

Anyhow, she and I were in disagreement over the whole issue of going back and attending there this A.M.  But, she went there after the Mountaintop service, with my reluctant blessing, and the kids and I went to Wal-Mart. 

I bought my daughter a bike at Wal-Mart for Father's Day.  All I really wanted for Father's Day was to make my family happy.  She's never had a bike of her own, and she had been sharing her little brother's bike.  Her knees were hitting the handlebars when she rode his bike.  She didn't know the difference and was perfectly content riding it, but it made me sad to watch her ride it, as every kid ought to have their own bike growing up.

So, we got a shiny new Purple and Pink bike, complete with tassles hanging from the handlebars and a "pack" to put stuff in on the front.  She thinks it's AWESOME.  All for the low, low everyday Walmart price of $48.00.  Sweet.

On to the Grant's Mill Road Flea Market for our daily food supply.  This week's special?  Cobblestone Mill Wheat bread:  50¢ (with a June 28th date), Triscuits-50¢ a Box, and Nature Valley Granola Bars: $1 a Box.   And then there it was, the HOLY GRAIL:  Brand new, still in the box, a BELL Car-trunk 2-Bicycle Carrier for the kids bikes!  Still had the original $40.00 price tag on it.  I got it for $15, not TOO bad. 

Next Stop:  Big Lots.  Clearance Sale finds there included Campbell's "Sports Pasta Burger" soup.  Not sure what it was, but: 25¢ a can, normally $1.25 a can.  We bought about 20 cans....hehehehe

Met Tristan's dad at some Mongolian buffet place on Hwy 150.  Ate Crab Legs, sushi, boiled shrimp, raw oysters until I thought I'd puke.

Then Tris and I took the kids up to Mountaintop about 8 PM.  There was no church service tonight, and they have the biggest well-lit parking lot in town.  We set up the lawn chairs and watched them ride their bikes for about an hour and a half.  Our Condo parking lot is too small and steep to ride here.

Needless to say, they both fell immediately asleep when we got home.

All in all, a great father's day.  Everything that excites me in life.  My kids went to sleep smiling, my wife hugged me SEVERAL times today, a bought a lot of bargains.  What more could make a simple man ask for?  Tristan apologized that it "sucked", because I didn't get to do anything I wanted to do, but I don't think she understood.  I DID EVERYTHING I WANTED TO DO.

It is SO NICE to look forward to church.   To look forward to all those smiling faces of people who actually LOOK like they want to be there, and they really do.  I have missed the genuineness (is that a word?) 

It is absolutely AMAZING.  I have been in Church of God, where everyone was really close, and I've been Southern Baptist, where everyone was really close, but I can't describe Mountaintop.  It's different.  You feel like you are GENUINELY "close" to each and every person there, like they are a brother and sister in Christ (as cheesy and corny as that sounds, I always disliked that phrase!)

I wish I would have discovered our church years ago.  But, God did things the way he did for a reason.  I came the "long way" home for a reason.  I truly think he will use those negative experiences of my past to help me minister to people in the future.

Which reminds me, there is a girl at church with hair that is a different color every week.  I think it was blue or green one week, but this week it's red.  She's married, but I've only seen her husband once or twice.   I had a dream about her the other night.  I don't remember the details, but I woke up disturbed and sad, and with a HEAVY feeling on my heart about her and her husband.  I think they need help with something, but I have ABSOLUTELY no clue what I could possible have to offer.   I have an extremely strong feeling that I'm supposed to talk to her, but I don't know why or how to approach her.  God, show me what to do.  Show me your will and your way.

Well that's about it for today, (like anyone reads this!) I'll shut up now.  Time to be quiet and listen to the still small voice of God. 

 God gave me the gift of "rambling".  I prefer to refer to it as unbridled and unrefined ELOQUENCE.  I must rest now.

Oh yeah, if you'll scroll down, last week on Tuesday June 13th, I was griping about money.  Church money specifically.

Fast forward one day to Wednesday night at church, and this is in the bulletin:

Weekly Budget:  $48,192.00

General Fund Giving for 6/7 to 6/13: $134,664.49

WOW.  Correct me if I'm reading that wrong, but.....WOW.  I don't know what else to say.  It's just nice to be in a place that God has blessed.  And it's amazing the things he does in your life, your church, or your business when debt is removed.

Double WOW.  WOW

Money.  I have none, and, believe it or not, am perfectly happy without it.  We (the 4 of us) have become closer as a family unit without it, and the absence of it, has actually brought us closer, probably by releasing us from the stress and "bondage" of debt.

My monthly bills:  Rent, Power, Cable/Intenet, Insurance.

THAT'S IT.

No car payments, No Visa, No Mastercard, No AMEX, No Discover, No student loans, No Macy's, No Sears, NOTHING.  NADA.  ZILCH.  ZERO.

It didn't happen overnight.  And there have been some tough times.  There have been some times we have had to say "NO" to going out to eat with friends.  We don't eat fast food alot, some nights we just eat sandwiches and soup.  We bargain shop, eat day-old bread, cut coupons, the whole nine yards.

I may not live in the BIGGEST house, drive the NICEST car (far from it), or have the BEST of everything.  But what I do have......I OWN.  I don't OWE.

So, live your lives in your pretty houses with your pretty cars, and shiny jewlery, and your fancy vacations, and your exquisite furniture.  Eat your expensive food from your expensive refrigerator in your expensive kitchen.  But do me a favor, will you?  Go ahead and have you answers ready for any questions from a Higher Power in another life.

I haven't figured it all out yet, but there is a bigger purpose waiting for me.  I think that's the reason I don't have a lot of material things weighing me down.  I am "Portable for God".  Ready to go.  Just waiting on the phone call.  

My lifestyle isn't for everyone, and there is nothing wrong with having nice things. 

Just step back and look at the big picture.  Look at how short this life is from the perspective of our ENTIRE exsistence.

-----------------------------------------------------

every thousand years
this metal sphere
ten times the size of Jupiter
floats just a few yards past the earth
you climb on your roof
and take a swipe at it
with a single feather
hit it once every thousand years
`til youve worn it down
to the size of a pea
yeah Id say thats a long time
but its only half a blink
in the place youre gonna be

--borrowed from www.geoffgottlieb.org , which was in turn borrowed from song lyrics from www.builttospill.com .  It just kind of  reminded me of where I'm at right now. 

Couldn't be happier.

My thoughts on Tithes and Giving: 

 You know, our new church doesn't ASK for money.  They don't require you to pay for everything or "pass the cup" around all the time.  It must be reverse psychology, because I actually CHEERFULLY give to the church now that someone isn't HOUNDING ME to do it everytime I turn around.  Very odd.  Sometimes I think "Methodist" was Hebrew for "MONEY LAUNDERER."

Old Church:  Vacation Bible School meant a  $15 T-shirt and $12 CD I had to buy for each of my kids.   Total:  $27 times 2 = $54.00.

New Church:  They give you an Iron-on decal, and you buy your own T-shirt from Wally World.  They give you a COPY of the CD.  Total cost?  About $4 for 2 Shirts.  TOTAL SAVINGS= $50.  I think I may just take that fifty bucks I saved and put it into the offering plate next Sunday.

The MORE amazing thing? 

Old church = Professionals, Business Men, The "Good Ole' Boy's" Club, and Upper Crust of VESTAVIAN SOCIETY.  All raised the "right way" in church and taught to properly tithe.  If properly run, the Church building should have been paid for in FULL probably 15 years ago, leaving NO DEBT.

New Church = Down to earth, normal folks, most of whom were probably never taught to tithe, cause 70% of them were never regular churchgoers.  Church building built on land that is PAID FOR.

The difference?  You'd think "New Church" would be broke and constantly asking for money.  Maybe they hide it well, but they don't appear to be. "Old Church" was apparently kept alive by the following:

1. Asking for money just about EVERY Sunday.

2.  An endless supply of Styrofoam cups which were circulated with regularity AT LEAST 3-4 times every Sunday School hour.  (Someone was ALWAY dying, needing a kidney transplant (probably from all the BOOZE at the church functions), or needed a "Diaper" Baby shower (Methodists are a very FERTILE group.  Once again, probably caused from all the BOOZE at the church functions.).

3.  A generous sponsorship from the United Methodist Conference.

4.  and the Letter "G" from Sesame Street.

If I sound bitter and angry, I am actually just EXCITED.  Excited to find a place where I am actually happy for the first time in years, I am accepted for who I am, Everyone doesn't put on the  "Country-Club-Church-Show" every Sunday (they actually WANT to be there at church), and I don't feel like (God, forgive me) VOMITING every time the Organ cranks up for another Fanny Crosby Hymn.

Please don't get me wrong, there were some GREAT Christian people at my old church who had GREAT INTENTIONS, but the "system" and "administration" apparently had their own ideas, and so those few GREAT PEOPLE were forever spinning their wheels, unbeknownst to them. 

It makes me sad for them, cause now that I've seen the "other side", those same people could do ABSOLUTELY SUPER WONDERFUL things if they had an environment, like the one I've discovered, in which to grow.

Just my $2.78 worth.

Today's Lesson at Mountaintop (I prefer that word to "Sermon", cause our church isn't normal) was about "What kind of friends NOT to choose." 

I think that's why I don't have any friends. I have eliminated all the BAD ones already, and was left with none. Oh well, I kind of like it better this way. I have my wife and kids, and they are my BEST FRIENDS in the whole world. It would be nice for adult conversation occasionally, though.

We took the kids to Lifeway Christian Store yesterday up at Wildwood. There is this old black guy that parks a van on Lakeshore and sets up a bunch of signs, a huge Cross pulpit, and a Megaphone and preaches. It says, "Honk if you love Jesus, and if you don't, PULL OVER!" We decided to buy him a bottled water and take it to him on the way back.

So we pulled over on the shoulder, while in BUMPER TO BUMPER traffic. We rolled down the window, motioned for him, and he came over to the passenger window and we gave him the water. He wanted to pray with us, while the back HALF of our car was hanging out in traffic and people were honking. It was pretty cool. You want to know the even COOLER part? He had about 60 gold teeth, and if he would have had a Nordic Viking hat on, he would have looked EXACTLY like FLAVA FLAV. My kids think I'm nuts.

I have several observations to share before I fill in my 2 loyal readers about my Cruise.

#1.  I have found the Fountain of Youth.  No, it's not in Florida, and it wasn't in the Bahamas.  It is at the corner of Vestavia Parkway and Centerview Drive, right down the hill from Mountaintop Community Church.  The road is constantly wet there.  There is no sign of any rain recently.  It can be Sunday 9 A.M. or tonight at 9 P.M., and there will be water rising up out of the ground.  The water just bubbles up OUT OF THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD through the pavement!!  It's incredible.  I think I'm going to bottle it, but I suspect that the church may have beat me to it, as they have asked for 200 empty water bottles for Vacation Bible School.  YEAH RIGHT THEY'RE FOR VACATION BIBLE SCHOOL.   Get REAL, I know what they're up to.

#2.  ROAD RAGE.  During my hour-long commute today, I experienced Road Rage on I20/59.  Some ROCKET SCIENTIST decided to send a Street Sweeping machine out on the INTERSTATE at 8 A.M., during rush hour traffic, to sweep the shouders of the Highway.  The proceeded to sweep dirt, dust, gravel, silt, and cigarette butts into the CENTER OF THE DRIVING LANE, causing a thick cloud of ash similar to the last eruption of Mt Saint Helen's.  I drove through it at 60 MPH, only to SUDDENLY find the SANITATION TRUCK that caused it at the other end of the cloud.

Which made me ask myself:  What Would Jesus Do? 

Whether it be a half-stoned Maintenance worker in a Sanitation street-sweeper of let's say that Jesus was "cut off" by another Chariot, or maybe even a Donkey.  Let's say they shot him the "bird".  (Remember, this is a common occurence that happens to me daily, as I like to drive 55 or 60 MPH on a 70 MPH Interstate.)  Would he follow them to the next Rest Area (probably a stable or maybe a Colesium in all actuality).  Would he witness to them?  Would he say, "Hey, do you know ME as your personal Savior?"  That is all so very confusing.  I don't know what to do, so I just wave and act like I'm a mental case.

Anyhow, the Cruise was great.  I made a few "life decisions" during the Missions Trip:

#1.  I want to start a new fad.  COOL CHRISTIANS.  I know we shouldn't care if we are "Cool" or not, but do people really think that someone would want to be a Christian if you have to wear Nascar gear and a FANNY PACK?  I'm not cool and I never have been, but I'm going to start trying to be.  I'm going to start with my hair, as I think I've learned how to properly fix my hair te cool way by observing the "boy bands" that were on the cruise. 

#2.  I don't feel so bad about my life, my house, or my car. 

 I drive a $600 car, and live with 4 human beings in a 2 bedroom Condo.  At least my house is COMPLETED and not made out of cinder blocks.  My car has all 4 doors the came color, and both tail lights. 

 In all seriousness, as Americans, we are an extremely ungrateful, selfish, arrogant Nation.   No wonder 90f the rest of the world hates us.  We're almost as bad as the smelly French Canadians.

Try watching 60 kids on a playground (really just a grass and dirt field) whose ONLY TOY amongst ALL of them is an old tire, and they're taking turns kicking it, and acting like it's the greatest thing in the world.

Try attending a church service with 300 sweaty kids in a hot 40' x 40' building, and having a 6 year old Bahamain girl (whom you only met 2 minutes before) curl up under your arm and fall asleep while smiling at you.  Then try coming back to the real world of Ipods, DVD's, Computers.  I'd give it all away tomorrow, and not miss it a bit.   And I truly MEAN THAT.  What an AWESOME and POWERFUL experience.

#3.  I was reading the Webpage of a friend of mine, Kevin,  (www.kmyoung.com), and it was amazing some of the same things that were running through his head about the trip were some of the same things that I had voiced my opinion about.  I guess I'm not crazy after all.   Or maybe he's nuts, also.  I dunno. 

Tristan says I complain too much.  I don't mean to complain.  I just think that's part of my spiritual gift, and I haven't harnessed it correctly yet.  I can't STAND to see Injustice or someone being treated Unfairly, and feel it necessary to point it out, and if possible, to come to their rescue or try to remedy the situation..  I'm not sure what category that falls under, but I like to think of it as a Spiritual Gift.  It's probably just another mental issue I have....They could call it the gift of "Pointing out the Bad Stuff" or something like that.

#4.  There is a time and place for SERIOUSNESS.  While you are on a cruise ship POOL DECK laying out?  That's NOT IT.  Some Christians need to lighten up.  Jesus had a sense of humor.  I know that because my wife told me that he did.  She said, "He made you, didn't he?"  I don't get it.

I think it's just the Baptists that have a problem with "letting their hair down."  Primarily the "Fundamental Baptists", a.k.a. the Baptist Bible Fellowship.  This is the same group that brainwashed me for 12 years of private Christian school into believing that my future wife would not be able to go to the Movies or wear Pants, and that she would be condemened to a life of Video Rentals and Culottes/Gauchos.  Good teachers, good education, good intentions, money well spent, but I now realize they were mostly INSANE.

When I make a JOKE in the U.S. Customs area, while disembarking the ship, about "Who put this 12 pound bag of weed in my backpack?"......THAT IS A JOKE.....Lighten up.  Don't get your CULOTTES in a wad.  When my wife responds, "Shut up, Crack-head."  That is another JOKE.  If I was a crack-head, I wouldn't be overweight.  If she had made that comment while standing in line at the Methadone Clinic or at a homeless shelter, that would have been UNCOOL, but we were standing with 2,500 other stinky, sweaty Christians.

I'm still a Christian just like you, I just have an odd sense of humor.  Get over it.

#5.  I am OLD.  I might as well admit it at the ripe young age of 33.  I am OLD.  I don't understand fashion anymore.  I don't understand bouncing up and down in beat to the music at a concert.  I don't understand "mosh pits" or the fun in smacking the CRAP out of one of your freinds in beat to the music.  I don't understand trucker hats...they're ugly.  I don't understand large belt buckles....they're ugly too.   I don't understand how the clothes in my closet 10 years ago (which were left over from the 80's) that my wife MADE FUN OF ME FOR, are now suddenly cool.  Then why did I get rid of them last year?  Now I understand why my grandmother had 6.2 DECADES of clothing in her closets in her house.  She was always at the height of fashion that way.

#6.  Do Bahamian children like WHITE HEAD-BANGING music?  Who was the genius that booked Limp Skillet and Kutlet (isn't that a piece of VEAL?) for the "island people".   Whatever happened to the guy that sang, "Don't worry, Be Happy"?   Remember, when in Rome, do as the Romans do. 

Speaking of Romans, I bought the Book of Romans on CD tonight at the Dollar Tree.  That's right, $1.00 for the ENTIRE book of Romans read aloud.  Oh jeez, I hope it's not read by someone like Burl Ives or David Hasselhoff.  Maybe Eric Estrada has branched out from the telephone service commercials.

-----------------------

All in All, a wonderful trip.  Would I change a few things about it if I could?  DEFINITELY.  Would I go again if I could?  IN A HEARTBEAT.  Do I feel that the people of the Bahamas come out for the better?  OH, YES.  Did myself, my wife and my fellow Christians come back STRONGER?  I can't speak for the fanny-packs, but I know my wife and I did.  We still get misty-eyed about it.

GOD IS MAGNIFICENT, HOLY, AWESOME, AND GOOD. 

He created some interesting people.  After the Cruise, I am convinced that He confined most of them to the state of Tennessee, though.

Ok, it's official.  I have NO friends.  My only two friends on MySpace are MY BROTHER and Blevins.  I've had 165 offers from Porn SPAM to let them join my blog.    Hmmmm...... Oh yeah, and the only picture I have on myspace is of my FIVE YEAR OLD son on the beach.  Oh well.

Tris and I are leaving town Memorial Day.  We're taking a cruise to Bahamas on Royal Caribbean.  SWEET.  I've been hitting the tanning bed the last couple of days so that I won't fry.  My darling wife on the other hand will probably look like a big red lollipop when we get back.  your skin's like porcelain...lalalalala......

Well, wish me luck.  Blevins,  you should go.  You'd be fun.   It's $250,  taxes and tips included.  Call Adventure Travel, you can ride to Port Canaveral with us on Sunday.  You'll just have to sit outside the room in the hallway for a while if we decide to get busy.

Anyhow, I'll bring crabs back for everyone.  bahahahahaha....

I'm such a cheapskate that I'm going "cruise shopping" at the Dollar Tree tomorrow.  I wonder if dollar store sunscreen is REALLY sunscreen, and not just cheap lotion.  I guess I'll find out.

The tanning bed place I've been going to in Vestavia makes me nervous.  The tanning bed rooms are like cubicles and are OPEN above about 8 feet high.   What if I was a perv and stood on the chair and peeked over into the next cubicle?  I think they should have "safety nets" over the rooms.  It also frightens me that they open at 7 AM on weekdays, and this morning when I got there, they were REALLY busy.  Apparently, I'm not the only FREAK.

I love my new car.  I have put 1,200 miles on it so far, and I'm getting about 33 MPG on the highway between B'ham and T-town.  I just gotta get the A/C fixed.  I'm thinking about installing a window unit air conditioner in the back window.    1990 toyota camry:  $613.00 on Ebay..................  Window Unit Air Conditioning - PRICELESS.    

I wonder if sheepskin seat covers would keep me warm in the winter?

I gotta get a radio in the car, though.  I have a battery-operated 1980's boombox with a broken CD player.  It has no antenna, so all I can pick up is Rock 99.  I can't stand Skynard.

Tattoos

Here is a story I read about Rev. Jim Smith, pastor of St. Stephens United Methodist Church in Amarillo, Texas. It seems that a few years ago, Smith found himself in an elevator with an exotic couple. The young mans hair was spiked, his sleeveless shirt displayed his ink-colored arms, and his eyebrow and earlobes were pierced. Her tattoos and piercings were displayed through her less-than-modest leather and denim outfit.

 

On the other side of the elevator stood Smith in his blue blazer, striped tie, and white starched shirt. He was, after all, on his way to chair the board meeting of a conservative evangelical ministry within the United Methodist Church.

 

In order to break the awkward silence, Smith said aloud, "Well, I don't suppose we are going to the same meeting." That sparked a laugh and began the conversation between the buttoned-down preacher and the inked-up couple. It turns out that they were at the hotel for the Old School Reunion-a tattoo artist convention. The couple even invited the pastor to check it out for himself; he thanked them for the invitation and went off to his meeting. After the board meeting, Jim was invited by Dr. Maxie Dunnam, president of Asbury Theological Seminary, to grab a cup of coffee. Smith told Dunnam that he had already been invited to an event at the hotel. To what? asked Dunnam. To the Old School Reunion, Smith responded. The two of them scooted through the hotel in their business suits looking around for the tattoo convention. When they found the registration desk, they were greeted by an older gentleman covered in ink. He recognized that the two men were obviously not there to get a touch up on their dragon tattoos. Bedecked in a sleeveless t-shirt, black leather vest, and rings wobbling off his earlobes, the man turned out to be the head of the convention and invited Dunnam and Smith to look around as his guests.

 

Assuming the pair knew little about tattoos, he held out his right arm and showed the two visitors a picture of Jesus ascending into heaven. They both stared in amazement at the inked forearm. Unsure if his new friends recognized the figure on his arm, the man said, Jesus was the son of God. His Father sent him into the world to be our savior. He died on the cross to forgive our sins and was raised from the dead. He ascended into heaven and is praying for you. He then winsomely asked his two guests, "Have you ever heard this story before?" The two ministers had just heard the most succinct presentation of the gospel ever. When they confessed they were Methodist preachers, the tattooed man shouted, "Praise God! You're my brothers!" He proceeded to hug his new friends right in the middle of the convention. "That was the first time in my life I've been hugged by a man in a leather vest and earrings," Smith testifies. The three of them went from booth to booth as the man told his tattooed colleagues to meet my two brothers.

 

Pierced ears. Crew cuts. Leather vests. Navy blazers. Sleeveless t-shirts. White starched shirts. Tattoos. Neckties. Two worlds collided and the grace of God settled in some unpredictable directions. While he was on the elevator first surveying the tattooed couple, Jim Smith had wondered who would be able to witness for Christ to them. Culturally, he and they were from two separate stratospheres. But later as the three new friends went from booth to booth at the tattoo convention, Smith was reminded that God is never left without a witness--even a few colorful ones to keep us on our toes and remind us that he is covering all the bases.

Life is good.  God is good.  Marriage is good, and my wife is an INCREDIBLE woman who had a "most excellent" (Bill & Ted) meal ready when I got home tonight.

We have a new church, a couple of new friends, and a RE-NEWED interest in deeper spiritual things.  Man, I never realized how shallow our old church home was, or how far away from God we had gotten.

God is real, and he is starting to appear to me more real EACH AND EVERY DAY.

I've always known HIM, and maybe I'm just getting old, but I think I'm starting to realize the TRUE MEANING of that.

We're going on a Cruise with the church.  4 Days on Royal Caribbean for $250 per person, TIPS and TAXES included.  Although, for that price, we will be sleeping with other illegal immigrants inside our suitcases in the storage area where they keep the cars, just like on Titanic.  Maybe my wife and I can steam up the inside of a Model T just like Leonardo and Kate......nevermind, that's another blog for another day.....

It's a "Cruise with a Cause" to the Bahamas to minister to people there.  No BOOZE, and the casino will be closed on the ship.   AWESOME.  If they would have done this at our old church, it would have looked like the boat from "Ghost Ship."

Oh yeah, KIPP, you lost a bet with me a while back, so you have to come to church this Sunday.  Our pastor is starting a teaching series this Sunday called, "God's Smiley Face."  You need to smile.  It makes God smile, and when Kipp and God are happy, everyone's happy!

You can wear shorts, you don't have to bathe or comb your hair....they don't care.  And you can wear your COOTIES t-shirt and Vans if you want to.  You get Starbuck's, Krispy Kreme, and GOD, how's THAT for the ultimate breakfast, huh?  We sit in the balcony like Baptists, so your agoraphobia won't kick in as bad, and if you have a sudden bout of Tourette's, maybe no one will notice....hehehehehe

I WILL BUY YOU LUNCH AFTERWARDS IF YOU GO THIS SUNDAY. 

I'm getting old.  I have 2 kids and the latest decision in my life involves the "impact of attending a funeral upon the future mental well-being of my 7 year old."

You know, I decided something today during my 2 hour commute.  I have NO tolerance, patience, or USE for the following:  MEAN PEOPLE and "KNOW IT ALL'S".

I am no longer going to be friends with anyone who makes fun of me for the piece of crap car I drive, or for what I wear, or for the fact that I live in poverty.  I will LOVE YOU as Jesus does, but I will not tolerate you or talk to you.  Teasing is one thing, but BEING MEAN is different.  Teasing happens ONCE, and being MEAN occurs on a regular basis.

As for people who KNOW IT ALL,......Guess what?  YOU DON'T.  Half the time you are probably wrong, but no one has the nerve to tell you.

So quit being mean, and quit acting like you are an expert on EVERYTHING.  Life is way too short (which I have realized recently, see above blog), and I am not required to put up with you or your attitude.  You only act the way you do because of some horrible childhood trauma or insecurity.  Deal with it.

NO, I'm not referring to YOU, Kipp.  (You're just plain MEAN, but you're my BROTHER, so I have to tolerate you.)  As a matter of fact, this is directed to people who will probably never read it, but it makes me feel better to write it.

Wow, 24 hours and I have ONE FRIEND already on MySpace.  That's probably more friends than I have in "real life".  (Even if it is BLEVINS.)....hehehehehe....

My friend, Chad, died last night.  He was 31 years old, big guy, always looked healthy.  About 4-5 months ago he got short of breath, and went to the Dr to get checked out.  They found lung cancer.  He had gone through radiation/chemo.

Tristan and I went and saw him about 4 days ago at home with Hospice.  We got a call this morning that he died last night at 2 A.M.   Complications from pneumonia added to the cancer (which had spread).  He had a wife and 2 small kids.

Makes you realize life is short. He would have been the LAST person you would have expected to die.  Non-smoker, healthy, strong, built like a brick "you-know-what" house.

I feel better after having gone and seen him last week, though.  After talking to him, I'm not worried about where he is now.  He isn't hurting anymore, and he got rid of the old body that was full of cancer.

Moral of the story:  Life is short, Play hard, Do right, and live every moment to its' fullest.  You never know.