Musings

Happy Birthday to my wife!

2011-08-23T21:05:00.000-04:00

August 23 is a busy, exciting day at our house. It's Cathy's birthday, for one, which makes it one of the highlights of the year. For the past three years, it has also coincided with Orientation Week with the arriving international students I work with. In 2009, I wasn't able to be present for Cathy's birthday since I had just moved to Virginia; the past two years we've been in the same town, though I've been pretty busy during that time. Thankfully, she's greatly understanding; it does give us a chance to celebrate during the preceding and following days. :) For instance, tonight we went to a picnic for all the new international students and spent time visiting with them and some of my colleagues. Not exactly the cozy, romantic setting, but we had fun.

And that's one of the great things about this great woman: her ability to enjoy being, with or without frills, regardless of situations, circumstances, or settings. We don't have to go all out or fancy things up; simplicity is a close and good companion with her. Beyond that, she's incredibly intelligent, strikingly beautiful, joyfully happy, sweetly hopeful, and constantly romantic. I love her for her humor, joy, kindness, and gentleness. She's a Shakespeare star and scholar, but her depth of knowledge goes far beyond; I'm challenged, encouraged, enlightened, and cheered with her in my life. I'm thankful for the marriage we have and can't wait for the many celebrations to come.

I love you, Cathy!!

Looking forward

2011-01-04T22:28:00.000-05:00

New years haven't always been exciting for me. I've never really been much for resolutions and have attempted to give each day its special place, which hasn't left too much room or space for making a big deal about the turning of a year. Not to say I've been bah-humbug about those things, but it's not held a special status or momentous occasion for me.

However, there is an excitement about 2011 that is pretty new to me, and I think it stems from entering a new year with my sweet wife. On our drive back home Sunday, we tossed around innumerable ideas, plans, and thoughts about things we'd like to do this year. I haven't tried to make a list of them yet, but when I do, it's going to be quite lengthy. We know we'll be in good shape if we're able to incorporate four or five of them over the course of the year, but it was fun dreaming about different things we'd like to tackle and/or get involved in.

That's one of the many things I love about Cathy: she elicits creativity and imagination. It's fun to dream about what could be, to laugh through our silly suggestions, and to enjoy everything in between. We had a lot of fun on that drive discussing 2011 and I can't wait to see what it has in store.

Happy Birthday, Mom

2010-12-07T18:39:00.000-05:00

I'm thankful today for my mom. I'm grateful for the countless things she's taught me, the encouragement and love she's given, and the faithful support she's provided. I think she's incredibly creative and talented; she's very considerate and thoughtful. Sometimes she doesn't give herself enough credit for the person that she is or the constant impact that she makes on people. I see her humility, kindness, and willingness to serve and want to have that same spirit and disposition. I and many others have been greatly blessed by her...happy birthday to you, Mom!

A good neighbor

2010-07-25T10:07:00.000-04:00

I was unloading some of the first boxes we'd packed and taken over to the townhouse. I noticed a washing machine sitting on the sidewalk in front of our neighbor's place for a couple of days. They were getting rid of it at some point and had apologized for it being out there. It wasn't a problem to us; it didn't block anything and we knew about lack of space for storing things. As I was unloading, the husband of the family came out and looked like he was going to attempt to load it to take it to the dumpster area, so I asked if I could help him out.

I thought this was a great chance to show kindness and start off our time at our new place on the right foot. He accepted and we lifted and loaded the washing machine to his boat, which he hooked up to his vehicle and transported away. It was relatively easy for us to knock it out and I walked away feeling pretty good about myself, thinking I'd demonstrated a willingness to notice when someone needed help and selflessly offering my services.

The next week, the battery in Cathy's car died. We were trying to figure out if it really was the battery when the wife of the family next stepped out and offered us her husband's device that read and charged batteries. She wasn't too sure how to use, but I tried and hooked it up, but I didn't know what I was doing. She said we could knock on their door later in the afternoon when he got home and he could help us out.

After I got off work, I was trying to figure out again if it was the battery or not. The husband came out and offered help, but I declined. I said I was going to wait until the next day to figure it out. He said he could hook up his battery charger and see if that worked, but I thought I could deal with it on my own. I went to Walmart to buy a battery, but they oddly didn't have one for the year of our CRV. I came back and decided I'd go to another store in the morning before work and deal with it then. (It should be noted that Cathy would have been thrilled if we'd just jumped the car off and driven it back to our apartment.)

The next morning, I bought a battery and brought it over to the new place, bringing along my wife, who's not a big fan of early mornings, especially when this could have been fixed before. As I tried to take the old battery out, I discovered that the tools I had weren't working -- I needed a different one to unscrew the screw that kept the battery in place. Frustrated that I couldn't fix it, we set up the jumper cables and got her car started. We drove to an auto shop and the mechanic there easily unscrewed the troubled screw and put in the new battery, without breaking a sweat or charging us.

As I've reflected on those two experiences, I've seen how pride and independence can be debilitating forces in relationships and interactions with others. It's also reminded me about having good ideas but not necessarily the actions to follow them up. I like the idea of being a good neighbor, but I don't think I execute that idea very well yet. I could have saved myself a lot of trouble and frustration if I'd merely allowed a good deed to be returned to me. I could have saved my wife some frustration as well. Instead, I wanted to do it on my own, without help from anyone.

Being a good neighbor is much more than offering to help; it's being willing to be helped that may be even more important. Allowing someone else, whether it's a neighbor next door or your spouse, to give you help and assistance is vital to the success of that relationship. If all I do is give and don't allow someone else to do the same, I'm denying them the opportunity to serve. And I may be communicating that I'm too good or smart or independent to need something from them, which is such a hurtful message.

So, I'll keep my eye out for more opportunities to offer help. I'll keep looking to do good to others. But more than that, I'll be more aware of the times I need help and give them the chance they give me.

Moving, moving, moving

2010-07-07T21:03:00.000-04:00

Cathy and I have officially moved out of our first place. We were supposed to have the inspection tomorrow, but due to a massive effort by my wife, the apartment was cleaned and cleared much quicker than we thought. We stopped by the manager's office and she was able to conduct the inspection and give us a clean sheet, hopefully translating to a full refund of the deposit. (We'll see how that pans out.)

In addition to that move, I'm moving offices tomorrow. I've packed up most of the things in my current space, though not all of it. I was surprised how much space is needed for office supplies to be packed; it doesn't help that the office is curiously well-stocked with certain items. For example, I've got six packs of tape, with each pack consisting of six individual things of tape; if I worked for a gift-wrapping company, it might not be too odd. Anyway, Facilities Management is doing the brunt of the work, so hopefully I'll be able to point them in the right direction and make sure the new space gets arranged as it needs to.

I'm really looking forward to all this moving, packing, and unpacking to be finished. It will be nice to settle in a bit more than now.

By the way, seeing as my posts have been infrequent (to say the least), it might be easier for you to keep up with my wife and me at her new blog, Waxing Desperate with Imagination. It's very entertaining, so mark http://cathycopeland.blogspot.com in your Favorites List.

Wedding pictures

2010-03-29T21:38:00.001-04:00

Here's a link to view some pictures from mine and Cathy's wedding at Cross Keys Vineyards, Mt. Crawford, Virginia on March 20, 2010. It was such an incredible day: the weather, the people, the bride...everything. :)

Thanks to Tim and Sasha at Rothwell Photography for our incredible photos! Here's the link: http://www.rothwellphotographyblog.com/blog/ (scroll down to the March 22 entry for our pics).

T-minus 26

2010-02-22T21:39:00.000-05:00

The countdown's been moving swiftly the past couple of weeks. Four weeks from this past Saturday is my wedding and things continue to fall into place as Cathy and I make the plans and decisions. She found out today that someone is going to sublease her apartment in Tuscaloosa, which is very exciting and relieving. We've got our location, caterer, photographer, musicians, and DJ lined up; we're on the brink of the other details getting finalized (hopefully this week). Thankfully, Cathy has done and is doing a marvelous job of taking care of all details and I couldn't be more excited that she has. I'm terribly excited about these next few weeks flying by...

A couple of links

2010-02-07T16:40:00.000-05:00

As you may or may not have heard, I'm getting married in less than six weeks. Cathy and I have been busy getting things prepared and organized for our big day. If you'd like to take a look at our wedding website, feel free to go to http://www.theknot.com/ourwedding/CatherineBlose&AdamCopeland.

Also, Cathy has started writing with examiner.com. If you're interested in reading about zombies, please support her by checking out and/or subscribing to her features at http://www.examiner.com/x-37030-Charlottesville-Zombie-Examiner.

Friday Night Cooking

2009-11-13T21:52:00.000-05:00

Everyday Italian is a great lunchtime show. I usually catch some of it when I'm home on my lunch break, whether it's Giada's main dish or one of the side items or dishes for the episode. A few weeks ago, I caught an episode that featured this simple and easy recipe for pasta with spinach and cherry tomatoes. I bought some spinach and cherry tomatoes the next time I was at grocery store, made a slight change (in the type of pasta) and had a nice meal.

Well, tonight I decided to do a little improvising with the recipe, partly because my first go at it wasn't as tasty as I would have liked. So, here are my ingredients:

3 handfuls of bowtie pasta
1/3 bag of baby spinach
9 cherry tomatoes, halved
1 clove of garlic, minced
2 tablespoons of diced purple onion (I cut off a piece of an onion I've been using during the past week)
4-6 ounces of chicken (I had some leftover chicken from a rotisserie which I think was that amount)
1/3 carrot, sliced in rounds then in half
1/2 zucchini squash, sliced to look like carrot sticks
Some shredded Italian cheese, sprinkled to taste
Salt and pepper handy
And some olive oil

First, I boiled water and salted it before throwing in the pasta. (Apparently this adds some flavor to the pasta.) I set my timer for 9 minutes and prepared the onion and garlic. I poured enough olive oil into my small skillet to coat it and have a bit more sloshing around on medium heat. I then put in the garlic and onion to start browning, as well as to provide a nice aroma as I prepared the other veggies. I let them cook for a little over two minutes, then added the carrots and zucchini squash pieces. (The carrots needed the extra cooking time; I probably could have waited a bit for the squash.)

Next came the spinach, placed over the other veggies to wilt down. I had forgotten about the tomatoes, so I quickly cut them in half and threw them on top of the spinach to make sure they got enough heat and cook time. After adding salt and pepper to the veggies, here's what it looked like:

From here, I shredded the chicken I had by hand, added it, and continued stirring; I sprinkled a little more salt and pepper as well. After a couple of minutes, the pasta was ready. I spooned it into the skillet, allowing some of the water to get in too. The pasta sat on top of the veggies for almost a minute before I kept stirring. Finally, I sprinkled a little cheese on top of it all and let lowered the heat to low. I let the liquid cook down a bit more and tried stirring the spinach out of its clumps for a few additional minutes, at which point I served myself 2/3 of what was in the skillet while the rest remained on stove on low. After it was in the bowl, I added more shredded cheese and it turned out quite presentable:

I think the addition of the extra vegetables made a big difference, as did the chicken. It was heartier than my first attempt and more tasty. Maybe it was because I was a lot hungrier than I'd thought, but it was the best pasta I've made. If I wasn't so full, I'd make it again right now.

Acts 3

2009-11-09T19:14:00.000-05:00

I don't leap out of bed too much any more; actually, I don't know if I really ever have. I've jumped a lot, but not as much recently as I did in high school or college. Even my jumpshots occur on a much more haphazard frequency. Leaping, though, is a bit different than jumping. Leaping implies a sense of freedom and exuberance, an act that propels the leapee as high into the air as the individual's heart can send the body. It flirts with unpredictability and innocence; it schemes with surprise and excitement. Joy is paired with jumping strictly based on alliteration; she really belongs to leaping.

When beauty happens, when beauty is seen, when beauty walks, we leap. Though pressed down by routine and daily absences of beauty, we wait at beauty's gate longing for a glimpse, hoping for an encounter, which sometimes arrives, though often delayed. Our timing for beauty, that which transforms our hope into reality, typically ticks much faster than her appearing. When she does appear, after our hearts have waited in patience for her, we leap. Beyond ourselves, outside ourselves. Our hearts throw themselves through their ribbed cages to a freedom of expression; our feet and legs and arms hold no grip on land or air for stability in this leap.

This talk of beauty and leaping emerges from healing. A dedicated group of friends bring one of their own each day to a gate called Beautiful. Daily, a man crippled from birth asks of those going to worship for something, maybe anything. How long since birth this had been occurring is unknown, but it had been long enough that his hope was terribly conflicted. On one hand, he was brought everyday and asked everyday; on the other, he didn't seem to expect today to be any different from yesterday. He longed for beauty at the so-named gate, yet found little to speak of its reality.

So as Peter and John approached, it may have been a half-hearted question for money that was sent their way. Apparently, the man didn't even look up towards them; it took Peter asking him to "Look at us!" to truly grab his attention. Maybe they had some food, possibly some change before going to the temple courts. Maybe they wanted to taunt him as others may have done. Instead, these men spoke of what they did not have with a joy that stirred his crippled bones. They gave what they had, which was more than he could handle. With outstretched hands, the apostles helped him up; with strengthened ankles and legs, the man began to jump and run. And leap.

He followed Peter and John to the courts, acting as if he were running around the bases after just hitting a game-winning home run. Peter and John walked; this man leaped. Beside them. Around them. Shouting and praising, overflowing with excitement. Finally, something beautiful had found him. Finally, something beautiful filled his crippled body. Finally, after day after day after day of emptiness and uselessness, something gave him life.

The power of Christ is a life-giving power, a force not of brutish proportions but of a transforming nature that takes the broken and crippled things in our lives and heals them to their rightful place of purpose, function, and beauty. Our ankles, feet, and legs were designed to make us walk and run and jump and leap; we were made to sprint and chase and juke and dodge. We're awed by the speed of a Usain Bolt; we're held breathless by the ease of flight in a Lebron James dunk; we're amazed at the churning legs of Mark Ingram or Julio Jones breaking tackles on a football field. We hold those moments as moments of wonder and fascination because they achieve the beauty instilled within.

So maybe our mornings don't see too many leaps out of bed. Maybe the drudgery of getting out of bed isn't filled with the beauty of a leap. But everyday, by getting up and getting going, we persistently and faithfully make it to our beautiful gates, whether they be jobs or families or circumstances or hearts. And we wait for a beauty not yet seen, for a hand still to be extended, for a word filled with truth. We sit, longing to be fully healed, hoping to be fully transformed. In this waiting, in this patience -- this is faith. This is belief. To hope for the not yet seen; to believe in the not yet here. To be ready for the leap of joy.

The Proposal

2009-11-02T20:29:00.001-05:00

I drove down to Newport, Tennessee on Friday, October 30th with bubbling anticipation. A couple of weekends before, I had purchased an engagement ring and the day had finally arrived. Being apart since August had put some strain on our relationship, mostly because we weren't able to see each other as frequently as we had for the first ten months of our relationship, which was pretty much every day. Fortunately, Cathy and I had been able to steal a couple of weekends together, most of those coming in October. Halloween weekend was the cap to a month that allowed us three out of five weekends together.

It also marked an anniversary for us: the previous year, we'd spent quite a bit of time together during the week leading up to Halloween shopping for costumes. I'd asked her to go with me on a couple of excursions looking for Joker attire and make-up; she'd borrowed a white dress shirt of mine for one of her Holly Golightly get-ups -- yes, plural. Cathy actually wore at least three costumes last year, possibly four; she loves Halloweeen, with its candy, costuming, and supernatural aura. We both went to a friend's party, separately though. And I was late for it due to my make-up taking a bit longer to apply than anticipated; I also had to leave that party a bit early to go to another party. There was definite interest between us, but we hadn't formally began dating. I don't think she was too pleased that I was late and left early to that party, and due to my costume, I was a bit creepy. But, looking back, I see that week as when we first started doing things just the two of us.

Knowing how much she loved this holiday (and that she'd found a conference the weekend of that dealt with the supernatural), I knew it would be an ideal and special time for a certain question to be asked of her. We had looked at rings late in the summer and a couple of times in the fall, giving me a good idea of what she wanted, though she always graciously said that more than anything she'd be excited with any ring I offered her. I knew she would love to get engaged on Halloween, but did my best to make her think that it was probably more likely to come around Thanksgiving or Christmas, which I think she bought. (However, there was some anticipation, I believe, on her part every time we saw each other since I got to Harrisonburg, so the element of surprise wasn't in full effect.)

Cathy had arrived on Thursday to Newport, which is a little more than 45 minutes northeast of Knoxville, about halfway between Tuscaloosa and Harrisonburg. She spoke during the opening session of the conference that evening (and did a great job I hear). I left work on Friday afternoon and arrived to the conference center late that evening with a ring burning a hole in my bag. I'd considered popping the question at 12:01 am, but only for a short time; I wanted it to be just the two of us. So the conference finished up Saturday morning; I got to have breakfast with her, but decided not to sit in on the final session. I'd hoped to do a little hiking and picture-taking, but there was a consistent drizzle the whole morning that kept me in the lobby, which turned out to be fine.

We got on the road a little after 11 and drove 45 minutes west to Pigeon Forge. It wasn't ideal to take separate cars, but we eventually got to be together, so we dealt with it. We arrived at the Apple Barn at noon and enjoyed a great lunch. I'd been there a couple of times before and have never left disappointed or wanting any more food. Their apple fritters with apple butter are illegal in eight states they're so good. After lunch, we walked over to the winery and enjoyed a tasting of their selections. That was a bit nostalgic since she and I (along with our friend Natalie) had taken a wine-tasting class in the spring; we pulled out our sharp, biting, and complimentary critiques and opinions of the bouquets, colors, and tastes of the wines, depending on what we thought. It was fun to get to do that again.

After our tastings, we picked up the directions to the cabin for the night. Yeah, a remote cabin in the woods away from the city on Halloween night. However, there weren't any problems other than a couple of oncoming cars that forced us to the side of the too-narrow roads on the way up the mountain. After we got there and unpacked the cars, Cathy gave me a couple of framed pictures of us, which gave me the opportunity to give her a gift.

Not knowing if there were going to be some hiking trails around the cabin, I had a couple of plans of action depending on what was there. We had talked about getting some pictures of us with the fall foliage, so I brought my camera and tripod. I'd hoped to set it up for a couple of shots, hit the record button instead of the timer, and record the proposal. Well, there weren't any hiking trails and it was raining, taking out Plan A. So, I decided I wouldn't try to do any recording, thinking that would bring about unnecessary suspicion.

I told her I had a gift or two for her too, so I handed her a card that I'd written. Knowing that she's a fast reader, I had part two ready as well. When she got finished reading the card, I started reading a Sonnet 128 of Shakespeare's to her that I'd written down in a journal of mine. Then I went over to my suitcase and told her I had one more thing for her, which was really two.

First, I handed her a Martha Stewart bridal magazine. I'd picked it up for a couple of reasons. One, Cathy's joked about not being Martha Stewart, but will sometimes mention things that Martha's done or whatnot; also, I'm not a bridal magazine aficionado, so I grabbed it because it looked better than the other selections. The other reason was that Cathy had told me that she wasn't going to buy any of those magazines until she got a ring; even though she's been wanting to get started on the planning, she didn't want to jinx anything thing -- silly girl. She looked at it with a "Thanks, but I'm not really sure why this is the present you're giving me" look, which was perfect.

I then knelt on my right knee and held up the ring box that had been in my hand behind the magazine. She had noticed something else in my hand when I got the magazine, but wasn't sure what it was. In my head, I was going to say that no ring could equate to the love and affection I feel for her and that it was but an imperfect symbol of my love and appreciation for her, but it came out more like, "I love you very much and want you to know how very special you are to me." To which she adorably replied, "Is this really happening? Is this for real?" So, technically, I said yes before she did; then I asked her if she would marry me. Through a tear-filled smile, she blessed me with a "Yes."

We hugged and kissed. She tried on her ring and talked about how much she loved it. She cried a little more and I a couple of tears as well, though I don't think she saw. I was a bit choked up, but full of happiness, excitement, and peace. We then decided to take some fake reenactment photos, fake because this wasn't exactly how it was done.

But it was a blast to take pictures together and soak-in that moment. We got on our phones and called our families; we sent out mass text messages; and Cathy kept looking at her ring.

We're not sure of the place or exact date, but think that most likely it will be in Alabama in mid-July. Hopefully, by the end of the year (at the latest) we'll have a place and date nailed down -- and pass that information along to you.

Thank you for your prayers, for your support and encouragement, for the conversations, for the messages, and for your love. If you haven't met Cathy yet, I greatly look forward to introducing her to you. If you're reading this and you're one of Cathy's family or friends that I haven't met yet, I look forward to doing so. We're so excited and can't wait to start our life together.

Someone got engaged this weekend...

2009-11-01T23:47:00.000-05:00

And that someone was me. I just got back from Tennessee, after meeting Cathy for the weekend (she was there for a conference) and asking her to marry me, to which she gladly said yes! I'll fill in the other details soon, but wanted to post a couple of pictures in the interim.

Lazy Saturday

2009-10-17T17:35:00.002-04:00

I've been on the go for three of the last five weekends, so it's been nice to sit on my couch and watch football all day (except for the fleeting feelings of guilt that slip in and out for being a bum). I did go to the grocery store this morning, so I it hasn't been a completely unproductive day.

It's been a good day to enjoy college football: Texas-Oklahoma was a defensive battle, Notre Dame-Southern Cal has remained close, Ohio St. got upset by Purdue, Iowa stayed undefeated, Arkansas is giving Florida all they can, especially defensively, and Alabama-South Carolina is still to come. I hope the Tide can play strong in front of a home crowd tonight; they've been on the road two straight weeks and Bama fans are ready to see their great team do well in T-town.

Things are going pretty well here in Harrisonburg. I just passed the halfway point of the semester and need to grade my students' Academic Writing midterm exams this weekend to finish up their midterm grades. It's been overcast this whole week, so I haven't been able to fully enjoy the changing colors of the leaves since the sun's been hidden. Hopefully it will peak out a bit next week so I can get some pictures and maybe even get up to Shenandoah National Park again.

I'm a Shooter

2009-10-05T19:06:00.003-04:00

My brother got married this past Friday. It was a great outdoor ceremony and went very well. I'll try to post some pictures soon. (My computer's hard drive burned out a couple of weeks ago, so I'm having to re-load programs and get some new ones that got erased. My photo and video programs got taken off and I'm trying to decide if I'll go with what I had or upgrade.) In honor of Luke's marriage, I wanted to share a story about him that's one of my favorites because of all it says about him.

A few years ago, when I was home one Christmas, I went with Luke to our high school gym; he was meeting a couple of guys, two brother actually, for basketball lessons. They were in 7th and 5th grades, as I best remember. He went through some ball-handling drills, shooting progressions, and other exercises. I helped out by rebounding and jumped in near the end of the session for a 2-on-2 shooting competition. We played from various spots on the floor, finishing with a 3-point shootout. The younger of the brothers said that he didn't shoot three's because he couldn't make them. He tried shooting a few, missing them pretty badly. One or two of them were close, but mostly he was missing. And that's when Luke did one of the things he does best.

Luke got in the boy's face with a stern look on his own. He furrowed his brow and asked, "Do you think you make that shot?" The boy said yeah, but without much confidence. Luke asked him again, "Can you make it?" raising his voice a bit more than the previous time. The boy said yes, slightly more certain but still with lots of hesitation. Luke responded that he didn't think the boy really believed that he could be a three-point shooter, but knew that the kid wanted to be. Luke told him to repeat after him, "I'm a shooter!" So he reluctantly said, "I'm a shooter." Luke raised his voice again, filling the gym with "I'm a shooter!" The boy tried to match him a bit. Luke shouted it louder, "I'M A SHOOTER!" They went back and forth three or four more times, finishing with each of them shouting the phrase, smiling, and believing a bit more that it really was true.

After this exchange, the kid threw up a three. And to his complete surprise, it hit nothing but net. His brother threw the ball back to him. Luke told him to say "I'm a shooter," which he did and made it again. Each time, before using all his strength to throw the ball through the hoop, he shouted and believed that he really was a shooter. He made five or six straight threes. He was beaming; he was smiling and laughing and feeling so great about himself. He displayed a confidence that hadn't been seen throughout the whole time we'd been in the gym. And he was making shots.

And I'd say it was due not the techniques Luke had taught or the practice time they'd put it; those were contributors, sure, but not why. The boy believed in himself because Luke believed in him. Luke pushed him to have the mentality that's needed to take a shot from behind the line and have the confidence that it's going to sail through the net; he taught him to believe it even when he missed, to believe that the next shot would go in. Because of this belief, the boy shot with confidence and made more threes in that five minute stretch than he had the whole hour we'd been there.

It was my first time watching Luke give lessons like that, but it didn't surprise me to watch the ease with which he interacted with the guys. Or the way encouragement flowed in all their activities. He built up their confidence, helping them believe they could do things they previously thought impossible. He makes those around him feel important. He makes mundane drills exciting. He creates fun and laughter even in tiring and boring activities. He brings joy to everything he does. He knows how to relate to people, how to make them smile, how to make them feel comfortable.

He helps others see things about themselves that are wonderful, beautiful, and unique. That's something very special and it's something I've loved about him for a long time. Now he gets to share it in a way like never before. Happy wedding, bro :)

Harrisonburg, Virginia

2009-09-01T18:25:00.003-04:00

I've been in Virginia for over three weeks now. I had a whirlwind move, taking me from Orlando to Tuscaloosa to Harrisonburg in a span of about 48 hours. This is my fourth week of work, but it's my first to be teaching. The other weeks I was prepping, getting used to this new company, getting used to the new university, and figuring what and how to do what I was supposed to be doing. Actually, I'm still figuring a lot of that out.

I'm working for a company called StudyGroup, USA. It's one of three branches of StudyGroup, the other two operating in the UK and Australia/New Zealand. Within StudyGroup, USA, there are two main programs: Embassy and International Study Centers (ISC). ISCs operate on university and college campuses, teaching international students English in order for them to fully matriculate into that university. I'm working at the ISC at James Madison University. This is one of four new ISCs started by SG this year. Originally, there was going to be two people at the JMU ISC, but due to a small enrollment, I am the sole day-to-day presence, meaning I get to teach and deal with the small administrative responsibilities. So far, so good.

It's been a good move in a lot of ways. I've really enjoyed the climate and landscape of the Shenandoah Valley. I'm only a two-hour drive from DC. I'm living downtown, allowing me to walk to campus if I'd like to, as well as walk to the Farmers' Market, grocery store, parks, and even Walmart (less than a 30-minute walk away). It's nice to have a job; it's good to have one in my field, too. And I've really been impressed by James Madison University. I don't think I could have been treated any better than I have. Even though I'm an affiliate of the university (as opposed to faculty or staff), I've been treated as part of the family from the get-go.

But, in some ways, it's frustrating being here. I'm not in the same city as Cathy and that's not fun. Being a 10.5-hour drive away is not ideal in any capacity. And since we had been living in the same city the whole time we've dated, it's sad to not have that anymore. (But yippee for Skype and webcams!) I'm also not near my parents or siblings, which I've been through before, but with Luke getting married in a month, there are some things I'm missing out on that I probably wouldn't have had I been closer. I'd really gotten used to being relatively close to home and the sibs over the past two and a half years, so I'm adjusting to that difference. (Although I'd be adjusting to it in a different way were I still in Alabama since Luke's moved to Atlanta and Bethany's moved to Miami.) I won't get to go to Alabama football games consistently, either. And I get to find a church, which is somewhat frustrating because I don't like shopping for churches or trying them out or seeing which one I like best or what suits me.

Through the beginning of this year, I'd prayed for a full-time position teaching English to international students. I applied around the world and around the country. I interviewed by webcam with a Korean organization. I emailed back and forth with universities in Saudi Arabia. I was blessed to teach part-time at UA for the spring semester and get some experience. I was definitely blessed to have the time and availability to go to Tanzania and work at Disney this summer. And this job practically fell into my lap, giving me a chance to put into practice not only what I've learned from the past two and a half years of studying and teaching, but all that I've learned. It's not necessarily romantic or idyllic or perfect; but there is goodness...and there is joy.

It's been wonderful to fall asleep the past couple of night with a cool night breeze coming in my window; I love 50 degree weather in August, with highs in the low 70s; I like walking to church (as I'm searching, one of my initial criteria is that it has to be within walking distance from my apartment); I like being close to Shenandoah National Park (one trip already); I really like the students I'm teaching and the opportunity to do so. It's definitely another adventure. And a great canvas for more of God's brushstrokes.

Russians in America

2009-07-30T11:48:00.002-04:00

I've been working at Disney World for the past two weeks as part of the English Days at Walt Disney World program. I worked here a couple of summers ago and was able to work a few weeks this summer. Last weekend, I got to meet one of our groups at the Kennedy Space Center before they arrived at Disney. They had been in Boca Raton at Lynn College studying English and had a stopover at Kennedy for a couple of days.

It was my first time to the Space Center there and it was a thrilling experience. It almost made me want to be an astronaut, so I could go to Mars in 2030, which was the date Bob Springer mentioned as the goal. Springer was the astronaut we got to meet at Lunch with an Astronaut. He's been in space twice, both times with the shuttle. I found his thoughts about the future of NASA the most fascinating of his lunchtime talk. The shuttle is being retired after five or six more missions to the space station, then the focus moves to the moon and Mars and beyond.

I've never really wanted to be an astronaut, though my girlfriend would love to be one herself. I think the training, or my perception of the training, was always a hinderance. I grew up with my dad coaching my sports teams and those of my siblings, he and mom being at all my games and plays and activities, and generally spending a lot of time together as a family. My perception of that job, whether accurate or not, and other intensive jobs like that kept me from my realm of possibility...as well as not being able to handle g-forces too well. Anyway, I found it surprising to get excited about going to Mars and starting a community/colony out there...I guess the outlandish travel aspect kicked in. (As well as the potential to do something like this at a dinner party...go to the 2:17 mark if you don't want to watch it in its entirety.)

Alas, it was probably a passing thought. I had the desire two days later to train for the next five years so I could attempt to play for the U.S. soccer team in Brazil at the 2014 World Cup. I guess I'm still trying to figure out what I want to be when I grow up.

But the whole experience at Kennedy, from being a few hundred yards from the shuttle launch pad to walking under one of the three Saturn rockets still left on earth, made it much more fascinating because of the presence of the Russian group I was with. There were 14 students and one teacher; they are from Chabarovsk, which is in the far eastern part of Russia, near the Chinese border and near Japan, too. I talked to our tour guide and mentioned the students I had with me and he talked about how much has changed within his lifetime. He's a retired history teacher who does tours around the space center and told me about living through the years when there felt like an attack by the Soviets was just a matter of time. He said that he's given tours to people from all over the world, many from countries who were enemies to our own country during his lifetime. And now he gets to show them around the very areas and technology that were so secretive not too many years ago.

He said that he never could have imagined showing Russians around the space center, that if someone had told him when he was growing up that he would one day interact with Russians as guests of his, he just could not have handled it. He meets former "enemies" practically everyday he works, and gladly shares history, experiences, and possibilities for the future without hesitation. Those who we once considered enemies are now welcomed as honored guests.

To make the experience that much more poignant, Irina, the chaperone of the group, told me how wonderful it is that things like the space center exist. She said that something like it in Russia is unheard of; even with their rich history in space, there isn't anything close to similar for the people to enjoy, to learn, from, and to experience. Sure there are museums, but nothing in that capacity. She didn't say it in an insulting manner towards her country, but in an admiring way towards the U.S., which was touching. I know this trip to the U.S. for her has been very special and that she and her students will walk away with a perception and acknowledgement of the U.S. that would have been ludicrous not-so-many years ago.

Stopping

2009-07-08T10:32:00.005-04:00

It's been about a month since I was in my first wreck. It's still odd to think about all that could have happened (but didn't) in that moment and the moments that followed getting hit by a semi-truck while returning to our hostel in Dar es Salaam. I remember going to my room several minutes after the accident to get my passport to take with me to go to a hospital to get my back and neck checked out, just to make sure I was ok. (And I was; I haven't had an pain or complications from it.) I wanted to cry in that moment and let out of some of the fear and thankfulness that I was experiencing: fear of what so easily could have been (and maybe should have been) a paralyzing and/or life-threatening accident and thankfulness for the actuality that none of that occurred.

I didn't cry in that moment. I shed a few tears later in the evening when I was sitting in the hospital, waiting to get checked out, but I forgot to cry when I was in my room. I had thought as I was walking up the stairs that I would take a moment to release it all, but I got caught up in getting my passport, changing into something more comfortable, and getting back downstairs to make sure I didn't get left (because I originally wasn't going to go with the two others to the hospital).

And that seems to be reflective of the past several months for me: I haven't taken time to stop. I've been in a season with a lot of uncertainty, especially with employment, which I know is not uncommon across our country. But it's been a new experience for me and it's brought new challenges. I've taken friends and relationships for granted and have been more isolated than I usually am. I think I've been a lot more selfish with my actions, thoughts, and words. I don't think I've been as sensitive and caring in a lot of ways. I don't think I was in a wreck to correct any of these aspects, but as I've been processing that experience these past four weeks or so, I'm seeing the obvious and deep need to return to stillness, especially in my mind.

And some of that is returning. It's returning through reading and discussing scripture; it's returning in spending time writing; it's returning in prayers that had been absent; it's returning slowly, but it is returning. As much of a blow as that semi struck to our bus, I think one of the biggest blows it delivered was to my ego and the realization that who I thought I was wasn't being actualized in reality; there were traces and bits scattered haphazardly around me, but they weren't complete and perhaps more accidental than deliberate. It's forced me to reflect and renew, something that had been habitual.

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

The only injury that resulted from that wreck in Tanzania was a slightly fractured collarbone suffered by our team leader, which has been healing without problem. There was a dent in the back corner of our vehicle, as seen in the picture, but we all thought and expected much more damage and many more injuries, based on what we saw as the truck so quickly closed in on impact as well as the force and impact that we felt.

We were protected. In retrospect, it seems we were rescued. And thankfully, the story that gets shared is not one dominated by fear, destruction, and harm, but one that's based and carried by grace, mercy, and redemption. And that's the hope to which I cling: grace, mercy, and redemption speak a better word than anything that can be thrown our way.

Tanzania Photos

2009-07-01T14:03:00.002-04:00

Click here to look through my pictures.

My Mom's tribute to her sister

2009-06-19T11:29:00.002-04:00

Thank you to those who have been praying for our family through this unexpected event. Mom wrote this earlier this week at the death of her sister, Cathy Spivey:

The cross-stitching in my sister’s guest bathroom says, “Some people make the world brighter just by being in it.”
Today the world isn’t as bright as it was.
My big sister’s gone.
Sissie — “Cathy” to everyone else — was four years older than me, so this is my first day to be alive without her. From the time I was born, she looked out for me.
Some (my husband, in particular) might even say spoiled me. I called it “sistering.” Here’s just one example.
When I was a little girl, I had this thing I always did at church on Sunday nights. Now you have to remember this was in the old days, back when they had everybody who hadn’t had a chance to take the communion on Sunday morning stand up and then they would just serve it to them there in the auditorium. Well, I used to always count the number of people who stood up. Don’t ask me why; it was just a big deal to me. (As you can tell, I led a pretty exciting life.)
One night, though, I remember I was sick and didn’t get to go to services; Mother stayed home with me. When Sissie and Daddy got in that night, Sissie came in the bedroom where I was and she said, “There were six.”
I guess I had a blank look on my face because I asked, “What?”
And she said, “There were six people who stood up and took communion tonight.”
Doubtless there many things I did that my sister thought were pretty dumb and this had to be one of them, but because it was important to me, it became important to her.
So she counted the people for me.
That’s the kind of sister she was.
We shared a tiny bedroom growing up (that, and the greatest parents in the world).
I’ve told her boys the worst thing I can ever remember her doing was when we were both still little and spent the night with our Aunt Louise.
Sissie got homesick and wanted to call our parents, but because I was the youngest we had to pretend it was me. Many nights we laid awake in bed planning our lives, but mostly our weddings. Soon, much too soon to my liking, she went off to college and found her Prince Charming (known in most circles as Dewayne).
He took her away from me — to places like Africa and then Wisconsin, but I came to realize that closeness has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with zip codes.
I look at my life and am amazed at how I’ve followed in her footsteps in so many ways – marrying a prince I too met in college, mission work, four children.
I wanted to be like her. I still do.
She was a fantastic mother. If you don’t believe me, you should have seen her boys in the hospital this week and heard their prayers. Four godly men, the sweet women they brought home to be not her in-laws, but her daughters and four precious little granddaugthers. What a legacy she leaves.
Dewayne’s brother Keith told Mrs. Spivey this week that when he thinks of my sister
the first thing that comes to mind is the virtuous woman in the Bible.
He’s right. Last year I spent two quarters teaching Proverbs 31 to our Wednesday night ladies’ class.
I could have saved myself six months and just brought my sister.
She was so many wonderful things.
What a cook! Three-fourths of the best recipes I have came from her (though neither of us ever quite managed to duplicate our mama’s dressing).
Like I whispered in her ear in my goodbye, there just aren’t words for what she’s meant to me. And I’m the one who’s supposed to have the way with words.
I’m enough of a snob I guess that I don’t usually find country music appropriate for serious events like weddings or funerals or eulogies.
But Alan Jackson’s latest single (ironically called “Sissy’s Song”) could have been written for MY sissie.

She flew up to heaven on the wings of angels
by the clouds and stars and passed where no one sees
and she walks with Jesus and her loved ones waiting (Daddy!)
and I know she’s smiling, saying,
Don’t worry ’bout me.

Back from Tanzania

2009-06-14T08:56:00.002-04:00

I got back to American soil on Friday night. We landed safely in Atlanta and were greeted by storms of lightning and rain as we drove back to Birmingham and then to Tuscaloosa. It was quite a trip and a wonderful experience. I'll be posting pictures and different stories throughout the week from my time in Dar es Salaam.

For now, I ask that you keep my family in your prayers: Aunt Cathy, my mom's sister, has been in the hospital for several days, surviving through three surgeries, failing kidneys, and decaying muscles. I didn't realize as I got back to the States how bleak things have been over the past few days. You can read updates at thespiveys.org if you'd like. Thank you for your prayers.

Tanzania

2009-06-02T10:57:00.003-04:00

I'm leaving today for Dar es Salaam, Tanzania with a group of about 35 people from Alabama and Georgia. We're going to be ministering in a variety of ways including a business conference, a pastors' conference, a teen girls' conference, English classes, a combined adult/child VBS, visiting orphanages and local churches, and several other things as well. I'll be gone from June 2-12; I plan to post pictures and commentary about the trip when I return because my access to the internet will be limited at best. I look forward to sharing with you about this experience -- til then, God bless.

Spring Preachers

2009-02-16T18:41:00.003-05:00

It seems to happen every spring: preachers preaching in front of the Ferg (Alabama's student center), condemning students. I met a couple of friends for a quick lunch on Monday and we decided to eat outside. Doing so allowed us to watch the first of these preachers "perform," "preach," "irritate," or whatever you'd like to call it. The man preaching today was dressed in a suit, had a Bible in hand, and continuously pounded said Bible as he spoke. Over the course of the 40 minutes we were outside, I didn't hear much of what he said, but could tell from the gathering crowd that he wasn't being nice or kind or seemingly careful with his words. As we sat there, we noticed a few colleagues of his walk up with signs. The one I read said, "Ask me how I know you're going to hell."

My friends and I talked a little bit about this type of "preaching" and whether it was like what happened in the first century or not. Was this what it was like for John the Baptist? For Jesus? What about John, Peter, or Paul? Would they walk around like this, drawing crowds because of (practically) hate-language? I don't know...I really don't. I know the reactions to them were sometimes similar to what the audience was demonstrating to this guy -- but I don't know if it was due to the delivery, the message, or some combination of both.

Somehow, I don't think this is really "spreading the good news." The only news that was being spread was that the students were sinners. And that's not really news. The tough part, I believe, is not disparaging a group of people publicly, but building relationships with them, sharing your lives together, and allowing the Holy Spirit to work through those relationships. That's hard because it's not immediate; that's hard because it takes sacrifice, patience, humility, forgiveness, and grace. It's a lot easier to stand in a crowd, tell everyone why they're wrong, give them a tract about how to get right, and say a few prayers. To genuinely invest in lives, meet people where they are, spend time with them on their time (and not predicated by yours), that's call I think we have before us -- and it's not an easy one. But I think the latter call comes closer to replicating the life and spirit of Jesus than the former. The good news is that's exactly what was done for us. Sure, there's a place for honest words, correcting of ways, and straightening things/lives out; I just think it's more effective and godly to do so in relationship instead of from the perspective of an all-knowing stranger.

2008-10-19T16:56:00.003-04:00

I was asked last night at dinner what I would do if I walked into a men's restroom and saw a guy crying. Would I talk to him? Try to console him? My friend was commenting that it wouldn't be too much of a surprise to walk into that situation for females and wasn't sure what she would do. Conversely, I offered, it would be incredibly odd to encounter that as a guy and I really didn't know what I would do or say. We were at a bar/restaurant after the Bama game watching other college football games when this conversation took place and I said that especially in that setting it would be extremely bizarre see that. After digressing about whether guys talk in a restroom at all compared to women, I said I probably wouldn't say anything to a guy who was crying. Most likely, I would guess, attention is the last thing that guy wants.

But it reminded me of a passage I'd read earlier in the week. I've never literally been the crying guy in the restroom, but I've felt like that before and have fortunately not been in sports bar or restaurant or any other public place. Anyway, it was a reminder of God's heart for the hurting and his desire to rescue us and transform us.

The Lord hears his people when they call to him for help.
He rescues them from all their troubles.
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted;
he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.
The righteous person faces many troubles,
but the Lord comes to the rescue each time.
-- Psalm 34:17-19

2008-10-11T17:01:00.002-04:00

Well, I made it back from Boston and I'm finishing up my final semester of classes and teaching in Tuscaloosa. The fall semester is at its midpoint and I'm trying to figure out what I'm going to be doing after December. I've got several options that I'm' considering, all involving teaching English in some capacity. There are a few possibilities in Tuscaloosa, as well as some outside the U.S. Hopefully in the next couple of weeks I'll have a good idea of where I'm going to be in 2009.

I had a conversation several weeks ago, and it was mentioned again today, about my growing apathetic feelings towards blogging, precisely demonstrated by the lack of posts. I'm not really busier than I have been before; I've had plenty to write about, although I've been writing less in the past several months beyond blogging. Anyway, I'm not sure what's going to happen. Being on Fall Break right now, it's been nice to have a little more down time the past few days and I thought I'd jump back on for a post. We'll see if it gets me back.

It's a great day for college football. The Texas-Oklahoma game was great and I've got big expectations for the ones on tap tonight: Florida-LSU, Penn St.-Wisconsin, and Missouri-Oklahoma St. The results from the LSU and Missouri games will determine if Alabama jumps to #1 in the polls. I kind of hope they stay at #2 or fall a couple of spots; #1 right now would be a little much. Plus, it might allow them to put a chip on their shoulder. Roll Tide!

I think I'll go to Boston...

2008-07-23T22:34:00.003-04:00

So much for the reflections I mentioned posting about The Shack...I'm actually reading through it again, this time a little more slowly. (More on that in a bit.) It's been a whirlwind of activity since I last posted. I finished up working in Tuscaloosa -- while manual labor was a nice change of pace, I'm happy to continue in my academic pursuits. I went to Florence this past weekend and got to spend time with the fam minus Luke, and then I rode with Anna and Craig back to Memphis on Sunday because I flew out of Memphis Monday morning for Boston. I'm here for a couple of weeks, working with an Italian group of 17 students who are here for a study/vacation program.

It's been great to see some of the students I taught last summer at Disney, as well as the two teachers who are serving as their chaperones. We're going whale-watching tomorrow, as long as the thunderstorms hold off. Next week, along with their English classes, we'll be touring Fenway Park and Harvard, with a day-trip to Cape Cod thrown in as well. Right now, we're staying in a hotel directly across the street from Fenway. I can see the seats inside the stadium from my window; I watched a group yesterday as they toured the Green Monster seats. I'm actually closer to the stadium than the Citgo sign...craziness.

Getting back to The Shack, one of the greatest things I took from it was a sense of healing. As I've re-read the first few chapters, I've found myself stepping back into the comfort that the story offers, the comfort of the love of God. The past few months have seen my heart beaten up and broken in a deeper sense than I've wanted to acknowledge and admit, which I think is why this book struck me so sharply in my first reading. There's a depth of passion and love sent the reader's way to the painful, hurtful, and unmended places often harbored within. I like to consider myself a pretty open person, sometimes I think to a fault. But even with that as my personality, there are things I try to ignore and hide...from others, from myself, from God. And reading this novel about a father's pain, fear, hurt, and trauma opened up a lot of those emotions in me, allowing me join in the Mack's experience of healing, wonder, joy, and rest. And I always love a new insight into the greatness of our God and his vast, sweeping love for us. No way to get enough of that. Ever.

The Shack

2008-06-16T18:49:00.002-04:00

It's been much too long since I've posted, due to both a lack of desire to sit down and write and busyness. I've still been traveling quite a bit (a quick trip to Florence, Nashville, and Chicago last week to watch the Braves at Wrigley) and I guess I could spend some space commenting on things like that, but I read a book on Saturday that I need to spend some time writing about.

I'd read about The Shack in early February, thanks to a note about it on Mike Cope's blog. Anna got it and read it a few weeks ago, passed it on to Mom, who then passed it around some of our family. We got back from Chicago Friday night and I didn't have anything to do on Saturday until a 4:00 wedding, which I decided to spend on the couch reading, something I'd not really done in a while. And once I started, I couldn't put it down. I had kidded Grandma, who came over for lunch, that I'd finish it that day and leave it at the house instead of taking it back to Tuscaloosa with me -- I didn't really think I'd get through it that quickly. But I did; I flew through it. I'm not a great critic of books, whether they're well-written or not, if it's good literature or a good read, if it's something that will appeal to a large audience or if it's just something that hit me at just the right time in just the right spot. All that to say, I really think this is a great book; a lot of the immediate reason for that is because this was something I think I desperately needed to read and it definitely spoke directly to my heart at a perfect time.

At the end of the book, the author asks that in spreading the word about the book not to give away the plot, so I won't be commenting on that, which will make it somewhat difficult to go into the different ways I've been hit by the story and its insights, challenges, comforts, and ideas. But I did want to throw it out there that I'm re-reading it right now (I bought two copies yesterday) and will be posting some of the thoughts from it (in a plot-saving way) later in the week.

If you've not gotten your hands on this book yet, do so. Right. Now. www.theshackbook.com

Spring Celebrations

2008-05-05T21:24:00.002-04:00

It's been a good couple of weeks for the Copeland family. Stretching back a bit, Craig took his board exams for med school, which was a nice thing to get past -- he and Anna celebrated with a week at the beach. They had plans to watch seasons 1 and 2 of LOST, but the weather was too nice to be inside. I guess that's ok; one kind of hopes for nice weather when at the beach. But...it is LOST and I'm hoping they get to catch up soon.

Dad found out week ago this past Friday that he passed the bar exam, which was incredibly exciting! He missed passing last summer by a mere 6 points, so he wasn't too excited about having to take it again in February. But he did and passed and is now a lawyer. He'll have his swearing-in ceremony in a few weeks. Our family is very proud of Dad; one of the reasons for me being grad school right now is a result of Dad going to law school. Hard to believe, but he started four years ago, graduated last May, passed the bar, and will hopefully be practicing soon.

And this past weekend brought two more fun events. First, Bethany graduated summa cum laude from Lipscomb University with a major in Spanish. She's going to be working in Memphis this summer at White Station church of Christ as a youth ministry intern through August. Her plans beyond that are somewhat up in the air right now, but she's got some great possibilities in front of her -- but I won't mention them yet until they get closer to happening. (Actually, I don't want to jinx one of them from happening; hopefully I'll write about what she'll be doing soon.) I'm very proud of Bethany and who she is as a child of God. She's got a beautiful heart and is going to do great things for his kingdom.

Second, Luke made his return to the U.S. He flew into Miami from Guatemala on Friday and "surprised" Bethany on Saturday before graduation. "Surprised" because she was suspicious of his showing up because the rest of us didn't/couldn't come up with a consistent story about when he would be getting back stateside. He finished up three months of language school in Guatemala and now can't speak English. Ok, maybe not. :) His English is fine and I think he feels relatively ok with Spanish; he plans to go to the Dominican Republic in a couple of weeks to begin work with a mission training group that's getting started. It was great to see him; I'm really excited about this coming weekend, getting to spend time with him on our road trip. We're headed to the Field of Dreams in Iowa, then going to a baseball game in Milwaukee, followed by a stop in Chicago to pick up Bethany and spend the day in the Windy City. The three of us will then head back to Florence. If there's even a remote possibility for a trip, we'll do everything possible to make it happen.

I'm finishing up a paper, will do a little grading on Wednesday when my students turn in their final drafts, and then I'll take a final Thursday night (which better not be too long because I'll need to watch LOST at 9:00). Hopefully I'll finish my paper tomorrow and be able to rest up a bit before beginning the road trip on Friday.

"I'm Paul Potts."

2008-04-16T10:22:00.003-04:00

He's not much to look at. He sells mobile phones in South Wales. He could use a little work on his teeth. He's very unassuming. Look into his eyes and you might see sadness. Look a little closer and you find an absence of confidence and an uncertainty about himself.

Nevertheless, Paul Potts believes he was born to sing. And not just sing anything, but born to sing opera. As the clip below reveals, he's right -- he's awesome. And maybe it's the contrast of expectation when you see him to the reality of what happens when he sings that explains why it's tough not to tear up watching and listening to this.

But what I love even more is a story I heard when this was shown to me last night. He ended up winning Britain's Got Talent and had a very successful debut CD. As his fame was building, a reporter asked him, now that he was getting notoriety and money, if he'd considered getting some work done on his teeth. His reply? "I'm Paul Potts."

And in those three words, he communicates so much: This is me. I am who I am. Why would I change? When you know what you're born to do and you do it, all the stuff we get caught up in melts away. Beauty breaks through. And experiences like this happen:

10 Years

2008-04-09T23:30:00.002-04:00

It's odd, realizing it's been 10 years since I graduated from high school. My class celebrated our 10-year reunion last weekend in Florence. We had 41 of 58 of us present at dinner that Saturday night. We had a relatively large class for our high school; my siblings, I believe, had classes smaller than mine. I'm also not sure of the exact number of people in my class; a few didn't walk at graduation, which meant they didn't technically graduate with us. Regardless of the exact number, we were a close class. Being at a small, private, Christian school almost forces that to happen; I always felt that we were even closer than some of the other classes that passed through Mars Hill. I base that on what I knew of classes before us as well as knowing through my siblings how close or not their classes were -- so I don't think that belief was/is merely a reflection of thinking our class was that different. I think we were/are.

I was fortunate to go to college with several of my high school classmates, which allowed us to remain close in the years immediately following high school, furthering the depth of our friendships and allowing us to continue to be involved in each other's stories during a time a lot of high school friends start drifting away. I felt that I was able to stay close with friends at other colleges too; we'd visit each other and/or spend time together over the holidays. Then came the weddings where we'd get to have mini-reunions as well. Our class president made a great contribution to our staying in touch by compiling a newsletter in November of each year that has been sent out in mid-December; she'd send out a questionnaire and pass along whatever was reported. So even if we weren't seeing each other frequently, we had an idea of what was going on in each other's lives. Facebook and myspace have also helped out in keeping in touch, though we were somewhat late to these social networking mediums; they really took off after most of us had graduated from college, where they really thrived initially before spreading to a larger population.

But it had been several years since I'd sat down and had extended conversations with some of the people I was incredibly close with as recent as five and six years ago. It was so good to catch up and find out what's been happening. There was some really good news to share, from recent newborns to just-found-out pregnancies; there was also bad news out there, which we tried staying away from, but didn't fully hide -- it's part of life too. And that was one of the great reminders I walked away with: even though I hadn't seen so many of these close friends in many years, we shared some important times of life that still allow us to feel tied to each other. Sure, miles and circumstances may still keep us apart physically, but I don't doubt that the bonds we share will stretch on for many more years. I think we recognize our closeness may not reach back to what we shared at Mars Hill, but since we did share each other's hearts during that time, we still share a rarely duplicated intimacy that allows us to continue to pick up wherever it is we last left.

Sure, not all the relationships reflect that previous paragraph. But it was honestly so good to see everyone. I was glad to see people I didn't hang out with much -- glad to be able to share a cordial conversation and it not feel awkward or forced. It was good to see classmates doing well; it was good to see their kids; it was good to see strong marriages...although kind of weird too -- that whole part about us growing up is still settling, I guess. I am a grown up; I still consider myself to be growing up, but I'm not going to be mistaken for a kid. Even as a grad student, I'm not mistaken for being in college...and I'm more than ok with that. But where that leaves me, I don't know. I've got another semester to finish in the fall as my journey continues...and I'm not sure where it will take me afterwards. I battle with longings for something resembling settledness as well as desires to move and travel and stay on the go. I'm not sure if I'll find and/or decide on one over the other; I'm honestly not sure what will happen. But I'm looking forward to it; I'm guessing it's going to be a blast.

No one else...none but Jesus

2008-04-02T23:31:00.004-04:00

In the quiet, in the stillness
I know that You are God
In the secret of Your presence
I know there I am restored

When You call I won’t refuse
Each new day again I’ll choose

There is no one else for me
None but Jesus
Crucified to set me free
Now I live to bring Him praise

In the chaos, in confusion
I know You’re Sovereign still
In the moment of my weakness
You give me grace to do Your will

When You call I won’t delay
This my song through all my days

All my delight is in You Lord
All of my hope, all of my strength
All my delight is in You Lord Forevermore

Malachi

2008-03-31T23:26:00.003-04:00

I took another trip this weekend. I was back in Texas, this time for a celebration of my friend Malachi. Mal was a roommate of mine while I lived in San Antonio. He's getting married at the end of April, so we put together a camping trip for him to serve as a time of blessing and encouragement as he prepares for marriage. We had a blast: hiking, grilling, laughing, throwing Mal in the lake, prayers, advice, encouragement, hilarious stories...it was an incredible time.

One of the things I so appreciate about Mal is his heart for God and for community. He wanted his house to be a place for that -- and that's what I found when I moved in. I still count the 915 as one of my homes and have countless memories tied to that place, memories that cannot be shared in this place due to space issues, among other things. :) I have an incredible circle of friends in San Antonio who I dearly love and miss -- and I owe a wealth of gratitude to Mal for his role in helping bring us together and always giving us a place to simply be together. So, thanks Mal, for that and so much more. You and Emily are an amazing fit and I couldn't be any more excited for the two of you.

Health, wealth, and prosperity?

2008-03-25T23:20:00.003-04:00

God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him, in the midst of loss not prosperity.

2008-03-25T15:17:00.002-04:00

This picture was taken from the balcony of the condo I stayed at in Winter Park, Colorado last week. The sun hadn't yet set, but the moon was in full view. It would snow much of the following day, so I'm glad I stepped out for a minute or two to capture a couple of shots -- we couldn't even see these mountains the next day due to the falling snow. I've learned over the years that if I hesitate in taking a picture, I usually won't get another chance at the scene that I'm witnessing. Sure, sometimes it's better to wait for another shot or for the sun to go up or down a bit, but especially in situations with people and scenery like the one above, it's best to just take the picture. Which falls right in line with the "seize the day" DPS mentality.

I don't have anything profound today. Kind of wishing I was back on the slopes, dealing more with which trail to take instead of which assignment to complete. But, such is life.

Awareness

2008-03-24T14:05:00.002-04:00

Try it out and see if you can guess the number of passes.

Yeah, I missed it. A reminder I definitely need.

Water falls

2008-03-12T10:30:00.003-04:00

Much like water, I feel like I'm being thrown off a cliff sometimes. Things seem to be moving along peacefully, winding through enchanting scenery, full of life and fullness, wrapping through the beauty that is nature, until the bottom falls out. To observers, it's an intriguing view: water cascading down, filling the air with mist and a fullness of sound -- it's difficult to whisper around a waterfall and it's sometimes tough not to get wet; it may be just as difficult to not get caught up in the romance of the scene, too.

But for the water, it's a somewhat tragic and violent experience, moving from a free-flowing existence to an often-sharp decent onto awaiting rocks and boulders. Watching water splatter on those rocks or in pools, it doesn't appear to be a pleasant slice of life. Somehow, though, the water re-forms and gathers again, continuing its journey along and through the path set out for it, be it a river, a creek, a bay, or another type of body of water; it's quite resilient, possibly stubborn. Whatever happens, it continues on. It doesn't quit; it doesn't give up. There may be another waterfall ahead, another chance for destruction or pain or devastation -- or maybe another opportunity for beauty.

Water falls and so do I. And yet no matter how many times I shatter or break, God puts me back together and continues guiding me along his path, comforting with his faithfulness and understanding. I don't think he's the one tossing me about or sending me crashing into what feels like nothingness; I do believe, though, he's present in those times, stretching my faith, deepening my trust, and holding me together. It often feels tragic and violent; such is life, I guess. But from a different perspective, one that I don't like considering in the midst of falling, there's a great beauty in that falling and continuing on. The tragedy, violence, and beauty are part of the world into which we are born; they're part of the adventure we choose live. It's our story of faith; it's our story of journey.

Psalm 36:5-6

2008-03-04T22:10:00.001-05:00

Your unfailing love, O Lord, is as vast as the heavens; your faithfulness reaches beyond the clouds. Your righteousness is like the mighty mountains, your justice like the ocean depths.

Stand in Awe

2008-02-29T00:27:00.003-05:00

The Lord is my light and my salvation — so why should I be afraid? The Lord is my fortress, protecting me from danger, so why should I tremble? I am confident I will see the Lord’s goodness while I am here in the land of the living.

Wait patiently for the Lord -- waiting for his goodness to light up the night like the day, for his faithfulness to leave us speechless. Be brave and courageous through whatever comes your way, whether heartache or love, disappointment or hope. Yes, wait patiently for the Lord, for he is still writing his story in us.

2008-02-27T22:12:00.002-05:00

This picture was taken in 2006 at the Grand Canyon on my road trip from San Antonio to Seattle. The sun was setting at this point, but a storm could be seen towards the west, dropping rain on the plains south of the canyon. It had gotten so cold at that point, with the sun going down and the wind picking up. But it was really cool to see how storms are isolated, depending on your perspective. I'm sure if anyone was getting rained on at that point, the storm was overwhelming, bitter, and bothersome, but to those of us watching from a distance, it was nothing more than a natural happening that we got to view from a distance.

So it is with us. When we're in the midst of storms, they sometimes feel awful, depressing, joyless, and discomforting. We look inside our hearts and outside our bodies and see nothing but rain and clouds and lightning, things we're not always welcoming of. Yet, from a distance, stepping away from the middle of it, we recognize that these things come and go, many times out of our control -- out of our control not only in when and where they occur, but in our inability to evade them. We not only see that they're part of the natural rhythm of life, but even beauty can be seen in them. For it is through these times that replenishing rains can fall, deadwood can be struck down and taken out, and newness can spring from death.

Though storms rage, rains fall, and lightning pierces our inmost being, still do I rest in the beauty of the Lord, trusting his hand to protect and to lead.

Psalm 37:3-7

2008-02-25T15:06:00.002-05:00

Trust in the Lord and do good.
Then you will live safely in the land and prosper.
Take delight in the Lord,
and he will give you your heart’s desires.

Commit everything you do to the Lord.
Trust him, and he will help you.
He will make your innocence radiate like the dawn,
and the justice of your cause will shine like the noonday sun.

Be still in the presence of the Lord,
and wait patiently for him to act.

Sunset on Lake Tuscaloosa

2008-02-14T19:30:00.003-05:00

Hope that is seen is no hope at all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, yet what is unseen is eternal.

McNamee vs. Clemens

2008-02-13T23:06:00.000-05:00

I watched most of the Congressional hearings today, which mainly involved two men, Brian McNamee and Roger Clemens. McNamme was one of the main sources for the Mitchell Report, the document/study conducted into the use and prevalence of steroids and other performance-enhancing substances, such as Human Growth Hormone (HGH). The reason for the hearing today, as I watched it, came down to Clemens contesting the part of the Mitchell Report that indicated he had used steroids and HGH a few years ago. Clemens has vehemently denied doing so and has stuck unwaveringly to his claim that he is innocent of any charges of this nature.

There are a lot of details that I'd rather not write about concerning what led to the hearings today and what actually transpired, but there was something about the proceedings that kept me locked in and I think I'm still trying to figure out what exactly it was. I'm a baseball fan. I'll watch the Braves live or on TV (yes, I can watch baseball on TV). I'll gladly watch any team live and in person -- any excuse to get to a stadium. My love for baseball emerges from my Dad's love of it; it's always been his favorite sport to follow and watch, which made it quite easy for me to get hooked as well. With all that's happened in the past 15 or so years, from the strike of '04 to the home run chase of '98 to the steroids rumors, truths, allegations of this decade, baseball's taken quite a hit in its reputation and integrity. And yet, I'm still a fan of the sport, even if it may be tainted.

I can't tell you if Clemens is innocent or guilty of McNamee's allegations or not. It's difficult to fully believe McNamee, who's not been fully honest with prosecutors and investigators in this process. He didn't share the full extent of his knowledge in his first or second meetings with federal officials, revealing a little more each time he was talked to; and it wasn't until recently that he produced what is supposed to be evidence confirming his claims: gauze and syringes with Clemens' blood on them from injections. It's been an awful demonstration of he said, he said throughout this whole ordeal, culminating with the same repetition before Congress today.

Clemens, under oath, denied ever using steroids or HGH. McNamee, under oath, stated he injected Clemens with both substances several times. Who's lying?
What an awful question to have to answer, but here's what I think. As the questions played out, as the congressmen and -women asked their questions or gave their opinions on the matters (including their regards or lack thereof for either man), as the public watched, I thought McNamee emerged a more credible person than Clemens for a couple of reasons. First, his testimony to the Mitchell Report has been corroborated by the two other men he mentioned giving these substances to -- Chuck Knoblauch and Andy Pettite. Pettite, a good friend of Clemens', is on record stating that Clemens told him he'd used HGH, something Clemens said his friend must have misremembered or misheard.

But it's the second reason that really gets me and is why I think I was so enamored with today's proceedings. McNamee admitted today to his misstatements and offered as somewhat reasonable explanation: he turned over a little bit at a time, hoping he wouldn't have to give it all. One of the Congressmen said this sounded like a typical occurrence from his work with narcotics -- that this isn't out of the ordinary when someone gets questioned about stuff like this. McNamee withstood a barrage of attacks as well, being called a liar repeatedly and also referred vehemently by one member as a drug dealer. Though he disagreed with the drug dealer label, he willingly took what was said about him and seemed contrite about previous lies. He didn't run from anything. He didn't try to weasel out of anything. (I'm not going to try to label what I thought of how Clemens came across, though it was much unlike McNamee.)

It was the way McNamee handled himself and absorbed the barbs and admitted to lying that made me connect with him. He seemed like a guy who had finally been revealed and realized the awful things said about him were closer to the truth than he wanted to believe. He didn't fully disclose everything when confronted, but the longer the investigation went on, the further the feds dug into him, the more he finally revealed -- and I believe finally told everything. I connected because it looked familiar.

No, I haven't had the experience of getting called in to discuss supplying drugs to anybody. But I've been called on the carpet many times by God, caught up in a web just as tight and filthy (if not more so) than the one McNamee has been in. And like McNamee, I don't always turn everything over to God when first asked; it's a slow process. I hold on to things I know aren't good for me, but that's the easily entangling aspect of sin; it's tough to fully be released, to choose to let go of it. And I slowly confess more and more, constantly hearing Satan berate me like one of the congressman did to McNamee in the hearings: you're a liar, you can't be trusted, all you do is lie. Or worse, Satan comes with, "You're no child of God. You don't have any hope with him. You're worthless, you're hopeless, you're an awful stain of creation."

But in the end, like the chairman of the committee did with McNamee after the proceedings, reassurance follows. In a somewhat surprising move, the chairman apologized to McNamee for some of the things said about him throughout the day. This is a guy who admitted to deliberate lies...and he received an apology?

What gave?

I think it was realization that McNamee wasn't there to promote himself or defend himself. He was simply speaking the truth (finally) as he'd been asked. In the same way, when we finally throw ourselves out of the equation, and show up with full honesty about who we are and what we've done, the Father shuts up the accusers, forgives the wrongs, and speaks words of healing to put us back on his path with his blessing. Too many times it takes too long to get rid of the junk that's infiltrated my life and my walk. But by the grace and mercy of God, he patiently scrubs it out and builds me up, whole and new.

I hope a contrite spirit continues to dwell within. I hope that spirit of humility reigns passionately within. And I hope those words of healing, comfort, and blessing find us each day.

Lent

2008-02-11T15:19:00.000-05:00

I didn't realize that the 40 days that start on Ash Wednesday and end on Easter Sunday are actually more than 40 days -- it's really a 46-day period; Sundays are not included in the count. I'm not sure where this emerges from, but I guess some fasts don't include the holy day (whether Saturday or Sunday) in its total. Another thing I learned about Lent came from one of my classmates, Pilar. She's from Argentina and is Catholic, so she knows a lot more about seasons like this than I do. Some classmates met at her apartment for a study group this past Wednesday, which was Ash Wednesday. I was the first to arrive, so we were continuing our conversation from our class that afternoon about Lent and what we're giving up this year. She mentioned that the 40-days is representative of Christ's days in the desert, which I didn't realize, but that seemed to make a lot of sense, especially with the the idea of these 40 days are preparing us for Easter Sunday to celebrate the resurrection.

Having been given this perspective, I've recognized something about this Lent season that I wasn't necessarily prepared for or had thought about: attacks from Satan. I was so engrossed in the excitement of finding more time to be quiet, of giving up certain things for a specified time period, and of deepening and increasing my prayer time, I didn't think about this being a ripe opportunity for Satan to get to me and discourage me. Maybe this was naive in on my part, but it didn't cross my mind that I should expect to face discouragement, doubts, and worries that would try to keep my mind preoccupied and not able to focus on the promises, encouragement, and strength God would offer through this time. Thankfully, a conversation with Sara on Saturday (I'd say talking with her helps practically any situation :)), an awesome time of worship yesterday morning, and the study of Romans in the h.s. small group last night allowed me be reminded what's really going, to see what had been happening in and around me for what it really was: an attempt to keep me from being planted by the river of life.

I believe one of the greatest fears of the enemy is for God's children to willingly wrap ourselves more closely and tightly in his love and will through times such as Lent, or any other fasting/commitment seasons or periods of life. When followers of Christ choose to submit and be disciplined in order for God to continue his takeover of our hearts, minds, and lives, the enemy gets pushed out -- and he's not going without a fight. In that fight, lies get told, insults abound, and confidence in who we truly are in God gets viciously attacked. Yet, though we may not see it, Jesus is fighting harder on our behalf -- and is victorious. That's one of the things I've relearned already through the first few days of Lent -- Jesus gladly kicks the crap out of Satan and heals us in the process -- heals us from the scars of previous defeats and failures.

As I was studying this afternoon, I listened to this song again for the first time in a while. But it's one of those that I go back to, that comforts my heart through its music and lyrics. It's a Ten Shekel Shirt song titled "Healer."

Healer heal me
Savior save me
Maker change me
Lover love me
Cuz I'm so tired of living for
The kind of love
That only lasts for a while
The pain, the shame
Tear me up inside

So I fall on my knees
To get back on my feet again
And I cry out for You
Would You please speak to me

Healer heal me
Savior save me
Maker change me
Lover love me
Cuz I'm so tired of living for
The kind of love
That only comes and goes
But Your love
Your love lasts forever

So I fall on my knees
To get back on my feet again
And I cry out for You
To hear you speak to me
Yes I fall on my knees
To get back on my feet again
And I run hard for You
To enter Your rest

As we fall on our knees, listening to the song of joy that God sings over us, we are healed, saved, changed, and loved. God still listens. He still speaks. He still welcomes us. And he still kicks butt to make sure that we know, without a doubt, that we are dearly and fiercely loved.

The fast is broken

2008-02-04T22:27:00.000-05:00

Well, calling it a fast is quite an overstatement -- it could also be classified a lie. What I'm referring to is that I hadn't been running for about five months, which is now no longer true. The weather was so pleasant this evening as I came back from the library that I made myself promise myself as I left campus that I would go running in my neighborhood when I got home. And I did. And now I'm a bit sore. :)

Part of this stems from the fact that Wednesday is the beginning of Lent. I've become aware of Lent after-the-fact of its beginning in the past few years, always upset with myself for not paying attention and rushing to find something to do for this season of reflection, repentance, and renewal. Fortunately, I got to spend some time today journaling and listening out by a lake in a neighborhood close to mine. I'm hoping to have some ideas solidified by tomorrow evening and/or Wednesday morning for what I can focus on in this 40-day period leading up to Easter. I really like the ideas of reflecting, repenting, and renewing our minds and bodies in preparation for the remembrance of the death, burial, and resurrection.

So, no my fast from running wasn't necessarily intentional. I did hurt my knee playing racquetball in September, so I did stay off of it for a while, on doctor's orders. But that pretty much set me up for a non-active semester; I didn't put the effort into doing anything after getting slowed down by the knee-thing. But I do want to be intentional in the coming days and weeks. I want to deliberately and in a more-focused way open myself up to God's cleansing and purification. I'm not sure what means that will come by and I'll admit that opening up like this is a bit scary. Fortunately, his strength offers courage to face that fear and keep running to him. And in the time and process of that, transformation continues to occur -- which is the point of this season. Continued transformation from death to life in Jesus. May we experience his willingness to place himself in the Father's will.

Closing off

2008-01-29T12:39:00.001-05:00

I've joined them, them being the people who walk around campus with earbuds in their ears listening to music. When I arrived on campus last year, I noticed how it seemed almost every third person I passed had some type of earphones in; probably another third had a phone to their ear or were texting while they walked. I fought the earphones; I wanted to leave myself open to a random conversation or acknowledgement as I walked around. But one day last week, as I was leaving the house, I was in a poor mood and needed to listen to a little Hillsong United to shift my focus to something bigger than my bad mood. So now I often walk around with my iPod shuffle safely attached to the inside of my coat and listen to music, telling passers-by that though I may look at you and smile, that's all you're going to get. Maybe a nod, but not much else.

Can you read the following and not be excited and confident afterwards???

God knew what he was doing from the very beginning. He decided from the outset to shape the lives of those who love him along the same lines as the life of his Son. The Son stands first in the line of humanity he restored. We see the original and intended shape of our lives there in him. After God made that decision of what his children should be like, he followed it up by calling people by name. After he called them by name, he set them on a solid basis with himself. And then, after getting them established, he stayed with them to the end, gloriously completing what he had begun.

So, what do you think? With God on our side like this, how can we lose? If God didn't hesitate to put everything on the line for us, embracing our condition and exposing himself to the worst by sending his own Son, is there anything else he wouldn't gladly and freely do for us? And who would dare tangle with God by messing with one of God's chosen? Who would dare even to point a finger? The One who died for us—who was raised to life for us!—is in the presence of God at this very moment sticking up for us. Do you think anyone is going to be able to drive a wedge between us and Christ's love for us? There is no way! Not trouble, not hard times, not hatred, not hunger, not homelessness, not bullying threats, not backstabbing, not even the worst sins listed in Scripture:

They kill us in cold blood because they hate you.
We're sitting ducks; they pick us off one by one.

None of this fazes us because Jesus loves us. I'm absolutely convinced that nothing—nothing living or dead, angelic or demonic, today or tomorrow, high or low, thinkable or unthinkable—absolutely nothing can get between us and God's love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us.

--Romans 8:29-39, The Message

I love it. "And who would dare tangle with God by messing with one of God's chosen?" "Nothing can get in between us and God's love because of the way that Jesus has embraced us." Wow. It's a lot like Morpheus in The Matrix looking at Neo with arm outstretched and his hand beckoning him to bring it. Later in the movie, when Neo gets it, he does the same thing. When we find ourselves in God, realize that we're fully embraced by Jesus, we've got an unconquerable power at our disposal -- not for force or abuse or selfishness, but for glory and grace and courage. We say, "Bring it. And just see what my God will do."

Language

2008-01-26T16:22:00.000-05:00

One of the unique uses of language is in naming things. Whether it's a newborn, a feeling, a circumstance, or a place, we have a need as humans to name things, to talk about them, to describe them, to make them seem more real by affixing some type of label to them. Some of us seem to own this need more than others; I think I fall into that category. For me, using language as a medium for what I think, what I do and don't understand, what I feel, what I question, and what I'm experiencing is often my greatest escape. Usually, this is facilitated through conversations with others, often the discussing the same thing with a variety of people.

There's an aspect to this that somehow makes the experience feel more real, seem less fearful, or make more sense by the mere naming of it. The temperature does not change based on our observations of it being cold or hot, yet we constantly comment on the weather, possibly for assurance or confirmation. There's seems to be a great need to let others know "It's cold" when they probably already know it; our stating of it does something for us, I guess.

Other situations, likewise, don't change much based on our language. "This sucks." "I'm happy." "I think you look nice." "I'm home." "That's weird." Expressing our thoughts reveal our emotions in some of these instances, but rarely do the words alter the situation itself, no matter how accurately we may gauge it.

One of the things I seem to be learning is that just because I can assess something and write about it accurately or insightfully or whatever, doesn't mean I should. Or should try. In some ways, I wonder if I at times attempt to use my words to skew a situation or circumstance; I wonder if I disguise mistrust by naming something one thing (x) so that it can't be another (y), when really it doesn't matter what I say or think it is (it may be neither x nor y). As much as I don't like labels for myself, I sure like to name circumstances or situations to somehow create a sense of understanding, safety, or peace, when really I should be more concerned with trusting what may not be nameable.

I do believe, said the father asking Jesus to heal his son. Help me overcome my unbelief, he finished.

A life of pleasing God

2008-01-17T00:21:00.000-05:00

Some time several weeks ago I made some notes on a scratch sheet of paper about grace. Below a couple of lines about grace was a reference to 2 Peter 1:3-8 in The Message. I found that paper tonight as Pastor Bill offered a call to worship from that same passage. (I love reading passages in the NIV and then having the thoughts from it jump out in a whole new way when read through The Message.) As he was reading through what Peter calls us to add to faith, I noticed I'd written a few other words on that paper: spiritual understanding, passionate patience, reverent wonder, and generous love. And then I read verses 3-4 and felt like I'd never seen them before. Here's how it reads:

Everything that goes into a life of pleasing God has been miraculously given to us by getting to know, personally and intimately, the One who invited us to God.The best invitation we ever received! We were also given absolutely terrific promises to pass on to you—your tickets to participation in the life of God after you turned your back on a world corrupted by lust.

As I've been thinking about rest the past few days, as well as thinking about things I want to add or subtract to my life in this coming year, I was floored by the thought that everything I need has been given to me. Everything is at my disposal. The faith I sometimes doubt I'll have? It's there. The patience? Provided. The strength, courage, and passion? It's been given, abundantly at that. And why? Well, it's partly because of the wilderness.

We've started studying Joshua on Wednesday nights, so the wilderness years were discussed tonight at church. Bill went through several things that can and are learned from wilderness experiences. As I thought about the wilderness -- those places that seem like wastelands, dry and arid nothingness, places that scare us, places we try desperately to stay away from -- I thought about certain periods in my life that might be considered wildernesses of sorts. And as I did, I jumped back to 2 Peter and thought about how my faith was built up in such wondrous ways through those times, just as he described:

So don't lose a minute in building on what you've been given, complementing your basic faith with good character, spiritual understanding, alert discipline, passionate patience, reverent wonder, warm friendliness, and generous love, each dimension fitting into and developing the others.

Looking back, I can see why the ideas of spiritual understanding, passionate patience, reverent wonder, and generous love stood out -- those are things that began fitting and developing within me when I thought I was empty, broken, and lost. Though I felt famished and unsure, I kept believing that God was good, even when my standard for evidence of goodness was so warped that I didn't think there was much to his credit. I kept walking and trusting. I kept asking for help, albeit with a dry and parched voice and soul. I tried to believe and so many times asked for help in my unbelief.

I like to think I was similar to the patient in C.S. Lewis' The Screwtape Letters, who kept showing up at church even when nothing in his life pointed to that act making sense or even when church and God weren't making sense; he kept showing up, expecting something. Or like Charlie Brown, I kept believing the football would be there for me to kick. I knew God wasn't like Lucy even if it sometimes felt like he was the one pulling the ball away. I knew that couldn't be the case. I knew he couldn't be the reason I seemed to always fall down.

Though I'm not sure why things are the way they are in a wilderness or even what the exact reasons were for me to feel like I was constantly on the ground, the time in the wilderness passed. And firm footing was found. Rest is being discovered. And this is where those words about grace on that piece of paper really stand out:

Trusting in grace does not negate trying to grow; grace inspires effort.

It's there at our fingertips. As we're transformed by God, we continue to step in faith, inspired by the grace so lavishly poured out upon us. And Peter sums it up so well:

So, friends, confirm God's invitation to you, his choice of you. Don't put it off; do it now. Do this, and you'll have your life on a firm footing, the streets paved and the way wide open into the eternal kingdom of our Master and Savior, Jesus Christ.

It's not by our effort, but we do respond to this invitation. We respond with the type of effort demonstrated by our Savior. He gave his all; and now, because of his grace, we pour out our lives, finding his rest, comforted by his love, transformed into his image, embracing all he offers to present a life pleasing to God.

Rest in You

2008-01-16T00:35:00.000-05:00

Your faithfulness endures always
Where mountains fall and reason fails
And you calm the raging seas
And you calm the storms in me, again

All I know is I find rest in you
All I know is I find rest in you

My heart will praise throughout the night
Where singing seems a sacrifice
And you calm the raging seas
And you calm the storms in me, again

All I know is I find rest in you
All I know is I find rest in you

Your grace is all I need
Your grace is all I need

-- Hillsong United

This song opened worship this past Sunday morning and it blew me away. It was a combination of several elements. Being back at Capstone after being gone for almost a month was pretty exciting. The two ladies singing lead on it harmonize so well and have such incredible voices that I was taken aback initially by them. The band is also so talented and they added another element (our keyboard player played at the White House for a presidential party right before Christmas -- he's kind of good like that). These lyrics, though, simple as they are, really spoke to me more than any of that.

Part of it is probably the beginning of a new year and a new semester and desiring rest in the midst of busyness and the expectation of constant productivity. Another component is that wonderful thought of mountains falling and reason failing -- and God's faithfulness enduring. Hmm, I almost wrote that learning to rest is a tough task. A task? Really? Making work of rest? What is it with our language or ourselves that we somehow make resting another chore or some item on a to do list? Or guilt ourselves away from it because it doesn't "do anything." Or even guilt ourselves into, only to never fully rest because our minds race with all the other things that we could accomplish with the time.

That song let me breathe. It brought refreshment; it reminded me that all I really know is Jesus. He's the only sure thing I've got going. Screw death and taxes -- they too shall pass. And it's a relief, especially as this season of my life is being spent in academia; I don't have to worry with knowing a lot. Sure, there are things I need to study and learn associated with school, but even in that it's all about him. Finding rest in Christ allows everything else to find its proper and fitting place. Everything.

What we perceive as mountains falling, reason failing, and storms and seas raging are nothing that can't be calmed and assuaged by the Creator. So I want to learn more about resting and tasting the peace so generously offered to us. Some call it practicing the presence of God; some call it quiet time or solitude; others may call it alone time; I'm pretty sure it doesn't matter how it's labeled. I think what matters is our pursuit of him and the transformation that continues as we rest in the arms of love.

First day of teaching

2008-01-10T16:38:00.000-05:00

Due to possible inclement weather, including the chance of tornadoes, my class this afternoon was canceled. At least I hope so since I'm not there. I was able to teach my first class this morning, which was a lot of fun. I've got students from Saudi Arabia, South Korea, Romania, China, Brazil, and Turkey. I think they're going to be a lot of fun to teach; I hope that even though we're studying writing, which isn't always the most well-liked or loved subject, we'll be able to enjoy ourselves while learning about writing arguments and research papers. I didn't really do much teaching today; I spent time introducing myself as well as how I hope they'll perceive and experience the class, which compared to skydiving (of course). I'm not sure the extent to which I was understood; their faces seemed to reflect interest and comprehension, but I may have been talking too fast and quickly (which I do when I'm excited or nervous), so the smiling nods I received may have been politeness instead of understanding. I guess I'll find out Tuesday if what I said was understood since there is an assignment due. (Yes, I gave homework on the first day of class -- but at least I didn't require them to come to class having read a book already, which one of my classmates experienced yesterday.) All in all, it was a good first day of teaching and even better since I didn't have to go to class.

Image of the Invisible

2007-11-28T23:40:00.000-05:00

We look at this Son and see the God who cannot be seen. We look at this Son and see God's original purpose in everything created. For everything, absolutely everything, above and below, visible and invisible, rank after rank after rank of angels—everything got started in him and finds its purpose in him. He was there before any of it came into existence and holds it all together right up to this moment. And when it comes to the church, he organizes and holds it together, like a head does a body.

He was supreme in the beginning and—leading the resurrection parade—he is supreme in the end. From beginning to end he's there, towering far above everything, everyone. So spacious is he, so roomy, that everything of God finds its proper place in him without crowding. Not only that, but all the broken and dislocated pieces of the universe—people and things, animals and atoms—get properly fixed and fit together in vibrant harmonies, all because of his death, his blood that poured down from the cross.
Colossians 1:15-20, The Message

I love this scripture. Pastor Bill used it tonight in our call to worship; I think I've read it before in The Message, but it must have been a while because reading it tonight felt like the first time. Some of my favorite phrases: "We look at this Son and see the God who cannot be seen"; "absolutely everything...finds its purpose in him"; "everything of God finds its proper place in him without crowding"; "all the broken and dislocated pieces of the universe...get properly fixed and fit together in vibrant harmonies."

In a somewhat ironic circumstance, hope was the focus of tonight's lesson. It was ironic since I felt I could have talked most of the time and shared some experiences that would have mirrored almost everything he said tonight: hope involves patience, waiting, no guarantees, and is in opposition to fear. That last one, opposition to fear, was something that stood out. To hope is to be risky without being fearful; some may call it naive or radical optimism, though it's neither. It's possibly the greatest manifestation of trust. And when reading through Colossians, it's easily seen that everything, including our hopes of things unseen and yet-to-be, are fixed and fit together beautifully in Christ.

The delights of his love

2007-11-25T17:20:00.000-05:00

I don't know how many times I've sung "Trust and Obey," but it's probably in the hundreds. But it had been a while until this morning; we sang the 4th verse, which was not one typically sung because the order was almost always 1st, 2nd, and last verse. Anyway, I really like this 4th verse, as well as the simplicity and truth of the chorus.

But we never can prove
the delights of his love
until all on the altar we lay;
for the favor he shows,
and the joy he bestows,
are for those who will trust and obey.
Trust and obey
for there's no other way
to be happy in Jesus
but to trust and obey.

It reminds me of David's words in Psalm 34:8, "Taste and see that the Lord is good." In other words, put it all on the line and watch what God does. Lay it all before him; really let go of whatever you're holding on to. Trust his goodness; obey his lifestyle of love. And experience the overflow of joy.

Delayed

2007-11-21T10:32:00.000-05:00

One of the most interesting things I've ever read in USA Today was on the back page of the Sports section more than two years ago. It was a small story, no more than four or five sentences -- a brief recap of information. Dale Shellman, a former minor league baseball player, had just had his tapes accepted by the Baseball Hall of Fame; Shellman wasn't much of a player, but recorded interviews with a great assortment of baseball people (Pete Rose, Mike Schmidt, Ted Williams, and Carlton Fisk, to name a few) during spring training in the mid-80s. What's so interesting is that it took nearly 20 years for the Hall of Fame to accept the tapes. He submitted them, but they said no; they didn't have use for them. I don't know why they wouldn't have wanted them, but they turned him down.

The great thing about that short piece of information was the quote from Shellman. Having finally had his tapes accepted by the Hall, he had this to say, which I've thought about quite a bit:

"Sometimes, life is about being delayed, not denied."

Safari

2007-11-19T13:09:00.000-05:00

The new version of Safari (the internet browser I use with my Mac) finally updated so that simple blogger features (like bold, italics, quotes, etc.) can be utilized. A couple of years ago, I thought something had happened with Blogger when I coudn't find those buttons on the Create Post page. I realized later (not too long, though) that the only time I didn't have those as options was when I was using my laptop -- brilliant, I know. Anyway, Safari's updated and I can utilize them once again -- I guess that means I'll be posting a little more regularly, too. :)

Unreasonable and indispensable

2007-11-15T23:29:00.000-05:00

As long as matters are really hopeful, hope is a mere flattery or platitude; it is only when everything is hopeless that hope begins to be a strength. Like all the Christian virtues, it is as unreasonable as it is indispensable.

G. K. Chesterton (1874-1936)

I used this quote as a blog post on April 29, 2005, over two and a half years ago. It's odd to think that I've been blogging longer than that and can go back and read things from years ago; it's also pretty cool to go back through and see the fingerprints of God on the circumstances and experiences I was writing about. Entries like the one with the above quote are very interesting to look at now because I feel like those are words that touch me in a much deeper way than when I first read and posted them. I remember thinking that I didn't want to find out about that hopelessness, while at the same time being curious about how hope could be a strength. In some ways I've found out in the time since then. I'm quite intrigued with the idea of the unreasonable being indispensable; and it's been teaching me a lot about trust.

2007-11-09T11:12:00.000-05:00

I've written many times in this space about certain things going on with me without really writing about them. Some have been more thinly veiled than others. I've kind of been doing that recently, though most often I've opted not to write at all instead of attempting to share small bits of information in disguise. I think it takes more work to write that way; I'd rather write explicitly. But I can't just yet.

I was reading through some of my old posts last night, looking for instances of these hidden clues about what was happening at the time and how I described it. It was very encouraging to see the instances of hope, trust, and uncertainty present throughout my words, especially with some of the things that are going on now. I'm in constant awe of the Father's faithfulness and I feel very much caught up in his grasp.

And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perserverance; perserverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.
Romans 5:2-5

And hope does not disappoint us. :)

Traveling again

2007-10-30T13:14:00.000-04:00

After two weekends in Tuscaloosa, it's time to start traveling again. And I can't wait; I tried working on papers this past weekend and really missed hanging out with people, anybody -- in trying to get a bit ahead so I can go different places, I got bored with the process of writing papers, reading articles, trying to write about not-so-exciting things. But, alas, this evening begins my escape from academia for a bit. I'm headed home tonight and going with Luke to Memphis tomorrow. My beloved San Antonio Spurs are playing the Grizzlies tomorrow night and Luke, Anna, Craig, and I are going to spend Halloween Night cheering on the Spurs -- well, Anna and I will be cheering for them; I'm not sure where Luke and Craig's loyalties are. But it should be fun: all-you-can-eat nuggets at Chik-Fil-A, an NBA game, and cheesecake at The Cheesecake Corner afterwards...doesn't get much better than that.

Untl Friday, I guess. I'll drive back to Tuscaloosa for my 2:00 class on Thursday and then fly out to Colorado Friday morning. I'm going to hang out with a friend of mine and go the Air Force/Army football game that Saturday. Should be fun to be out in Colorado this time of year. And I'll get to see the Nowells, too, so that will be a nice treat as well.

I'll get back to T-town on Monday and jump back into reading, writing, and classes. But, after two classes today, I'll have a bit of a reprieve for a few days. Can't wait :)

Who's on first?

2007-10-22T18:25:00.000-04:00

Probably the greatest piece of writing, comedy, and performance. If it gets better than this, I don't know. Third base!

Knowledge vs. Trust

2007-10-19T10:51:00.000-04:00

And so it goes that the very thing I know is going to drive me crazy is what I'm presented with (tested with, one might say) to handle and learn from. I've been thinking recently about pairing knowledge and trust in an oppositional way: knowledge vs. trust. Maybe they shouldn't be pitted as such, but it seems to make a bit of sense to me right now. I think I've been (and am) a knowledge-dominant person most of my life: I love trivia; I love knowing things about people, circumstances, emotions; I enjoy knowing where I stand, whether it's in the eyes of others, my place in a class, or in line with what God's doing in me (not that that one is an easy one to figure out); I like knowing because it gives me a false sense of control, though I don't always recognize the fraud of that sense.

Trust, on the other hand, doesn't really allow knowledge to have a place. Trust isn't complete blindness to whatever the situation, subject matter, or person, but it's much more intangible. I trust and I have faith; at the same time, I like to bolster both with facts and as much certainty as possible. But there are times that's not possible; actually, more often than not that's the case, but the illusion of certainty/facts are present. I'm walking through the field of trust right now, but still searching for a path of facts to possibly steady the uncertainty, knowing that I've got to release that desire and keep walking.

I don't think these two things are mutually exclusive in any way, but I've noticed that I'm prone to lean more towards knowledge than trust, which bothers me because that's not who I'm called to be. I want to live from a heart of trust and dependence; I find I often try to position myself to only go forward, though, when I feel like I've got some certainty because I don't want to be wrong. So there's a battle of wanting and longing to trust beyond myself raging against wanting to do what I can to protect myself. I realize it's a fight against me -- that to protect myself I must release and allow God to do that.

So, of course, yesterday was filled with opportunities to practice. I don't know if you'd say I failed or not, but I didn't have much fun in the middle of it -- because I couldn't grasp anything tangible and had to trust what I couldn't see and didn't know. And as God always does, he took care of whatever doubts or unknowns I battled in the evening. I'm sure he was smiling and shaking his head, thinking, "Just trust me, ok? I know what I'm doing and it's so much grander and beautiful than you can imagine. I got you, ok? I got you."

2007-10-09T21:43:00.000-04:00

One midterm down, one to go. Today's been more busy than most for me, but it's been good. I feel pretty good about the midterm I took for my Structure of English class. I've learned so much about the grammar of the language I speak. I'm looking at the sentence I just typed and thinking about auxiliary verbs, adverbials, adjectivals, and if any objective complements are there. Sheesh, I know. But I'm getting a whole new glimpse of what it's like to learn English.

I've got fall break at the end of this week and I'm excited about getting to visit a few places. I'm going to spend a bit of time in Florence and Nashville; hopefully the midterm on Monday won't distract too much from enjoying this respite.

As far as other things going on with me, I'm finding things to be quite peaceful -- somewhat confusing, but filled with peace. I find I'm being very thankful and prayerful with each day and I'm glad to be at that place...especially compared to my emotional and mental state earlier in the semester. It's a joy to see, recognize, and experience the obvious presence of God. I know it doesn't always seem or feel obvious, which makes times like this that much more special and memorable.

Without reservation

2007-10-03T23:48:00.000-04:00

I should be writing a paper right now, but haven't yet found the motivation. It is due tomorrow, but I've also got time in the morning and a bit in the afternoon if I need it, so I'm staring at blogger trying to figure out what I'd like to write about instead of the corpus research on global warming, greenhouse effect, and climate. At least I'm being successful in avoidance...

The past week and a half has been incredibly cool. I've been walking through God's faithfulness; it seems like it's been splashing all around me. Bursts of joy and excitement have been found in unexpected places and circumstances; peace has settled in, too. And as this has been occurring, I've been humbled by it, reminded of the desperation that God fills. Pastor Bill talked tonight about the woman who washed Jesus' feet with her tears and the story he told Simon about the two people who had their debts forgiven. What I walked away with was that I'm the one in the story who's been forgiven such a great debt; I dare not believe that my debt is managable; it's not small or relative. It's from this perspective, and thus, this heart that I can be so awestruck by the extravagance of God's love and grace. And Jesus is so right when he talks about his burden being light: we are called to trust God with this extravagance -- it's nothing of our doing. We continue to step into it day after day, constantlly amazed that still provides, he still works, he still showers us with his presence. He wraps us up in his story, picking us up (many times by complete surprise) and lavishing us with goodness, fully undeserved, exquisitely experienced. This is who he is: a God of wonder, surprise, mystery, joy, and unexpectedness. And yet I'm still learning to trust his holiness, to rely on his strength, to be swept up by his goodness; but my learning curve doesn't keep him from pursuit. He continues and seeks and douses us with love.

And it makes me want to dance like this kid from the Cincinnati baseball game I went to this past weekend. Luke, Dad, and I really enjoyed the entertainment provided by him, but there's something really cool about dancing like nobody's watching (when, in fact, someone is actually recording) -- to be fully caught up in God, I think, can be similar to this. Yes, it's hilarious. But it also speaks to something I'm pursuing: unashamedness -- standing, being, living without reservation of who I am.

All I need

2007-09-26T09:35:00.000-04:00

There's a song I learned a year ago that I didn't sing again until this summer when I was back at Zenith, the high school church camp I've been worked at and been involved with since 2001. And I hadn't thought of it since mid-June until this yesterday, but it's been blessing me in quiet and soothing ways. In some ways I've felt like I've been walking around stunned or shocked since Monday, but I'm beginning to see that humbled is a much more accurate word, I think, for my state of being. Yeah, I know, that's a bit vague, but that's what I've got for now. And the lyrics from that song that are running through me.

I'm beginning to understand
What it means to be Yours
What it means to know You
What it means to be known by You
So many things still unclear
So many answers I'll never know
But one thing I'm starting to see
Is You're all I need

All I need is You
No one else will do
Nothing is so true
As my need for You
I cannot explain
The way You've filled my heart
It makes the truth so plain
That all I need is You

Thin Places

2007-09-17T15:29:00.000-04:00

I'm disappointed that I'm going to miss this year's Zoe Conference in Nashville; from what I read on Mike Cope's blog recently about what Randy Harris is going to be speaking about, I'm going to have to get the CDs. Mike referenced Randy's thoughts on thin places, an idea taken from Celtic tradition. Basically, from what I read on his blog, it's a place where the gap between heaven and earth seems to be quite thin, that the separation between the two shrinks. There were some great places mentioned in the comments from that entry and it got me thinking about my own thin places. As I journaled last night, I came up with about ten. I won't list them all, but here a few of them:

Conference room at Nordeste Palace Hotel, Fortaleza, Brasil: On our campaigns to Fortaleza, we'd usually finish the day with singing in a conference room with concrete walls and a tile floor. Though only 15-25 of us would be in there, our songs echoed like a chorus of ten thousand angels.

Radnor Lake, Nashville, Tennessee: This state natural area was a quick five-minute drive from Lipscomb's campus and right across the street from Otter Creek's old building. I spent many afternoons walking its trails, thinking, praying, reflecting, and dreaming.

Skiing in Colorado: I've been skiing at Breckinridge, Durango, and Winterpark and I loved skiing the trails (or making my own trail) through the trees. It's hard to beat gliding across the snow with the wind in my face, a blue sky above, sunshine on my back, and tress all around.

2007-09-12T10:29:00.000-04:00

Once again, patience strikes and proves to be the great venture and virtue that it's advertised to be. Looking back over the past couple of weeks, I can now see some of the workings of the Holy Spirit in and around me. There's a renewed sense of purpose and strength available to hope. It would be nice if hope were a casual option, but it's not for the faint-hearted. In a world that offers everything but fails to fulfill or deliver, hope is a treacherous endeavor. To hope to prevail, to achieve, to go beyond present circumstances, to improve, to merely make it through a day or week or situation takes an energy and strength often not available after the regular rhythm of our lives. To truly hope is to go beyond what is seen, which is why it necessitates a strength from outside ourselves. Living with a constant perception (which actually is our reality) that we are not in control allows for this; my attitude often keeps this from being true within. Though God's granted each of us responsibility and power, it's within the context of being planted by and in him, like a tree that flourishes by a river. So, I write to myself, stay planted, stay grounded, stay rooted. Trust beyond self. Dare to hope.

Dirt

2007-09-09T20:58:00.000-04:00

Pastor Bill has been walking through some of Jesus' parables on Wednesday nights recently. A couple of weeks ago I caught the tail end of the Parable of the Soils -- the tail end because I forgot what time things started at Capstone and was quite late. Anyway, I went to the high school small groups tonight on the invite of the youth pastor and they're studying through the Gospels. Tonight's passages contained Matthew's account of that same parable, so I've had it on my mind quite a bit recently and need to process through it a bit in writing, so here it goes.

I forget where I initially heard this analogy, but the idea of the soils being a cyclical representation of my heart has been the word for me through this parable. Mostly, I think, because of the first soil; I've felt hardened in a lot of ways the past month or so, with an unusual edge to my thoughts and attitude. I think all my traveling caught up with me and the exhaustion I felt contributed to this; I also think it's been a ripe time for Satan's attacks, which are another factor. Not only at church, but in conversations with a variety of people, I've felt like my eyes have been narrowed, my brow furrowed, and a sour expression has taken hold of my face (more so than usual...hahaha). For whatever reason, I haven't felt receptive or open.

Until a few days ago. Until the difference between condemnation and conviction was again explained to me. Why I was able to hear this and not other things, I don't know, but I'm thankful, so thankful. Condemnation is what Satan speaks to our hearts, it's the poison he scatters. In our sin, in our wrongdoing, his words and thoughts lead to destruction of heart and mind, to heavy loads of guilt and despair, to us living without the confidence of who we are in the sight of God. Conviction, instead, is what the Holy Spirit prompts; it leads to repentance, to change, to the recognition of grace and forgiveness. Jesus speaks mercy into our failings, pulling us up from them to his glorious standard. Our strength cannot do this; only he can lift us up by our bootstraps. His forgiveness leads to healing and redemption, to a renewed confidence in how great he is, that in turn allows us to shift our trust from ourselves and upon him. He lets us breathe and rest, fully embraced by a love that continues to crash upon the shores of our lives.

I don't like admitting mistakes, sins, wrongs, or failings. And this plagues me because confession opens the door to this described conviction. I played all of this out in my head, but until I confessed with friends, none of this occurred. But a possibly greater revelation from this has been how much I treasure what and who others think I am. It's almost as if I try at times to create an image or impression so good/holy/whatever that will force me to live up to it, ensuring a certain type of character within and without. In the end, that leaves a person hollow, dry, and empty.

I don't know how long or consistently this has been going on; regardless, it's still a place -- and a good one, at that -- for Jesus to meet me. I'm rid or being rid of a lot of junk, leaving plenty of space for him. Things are getting set right within; the gifts he's given me are being placed and shaped for holiness not selfishness. The plow has been and will keep tilling that hard, crusty soil into a rich, fertile, welcoming ground. The parched little tree that's been me is being replanted by the river of life -- the great, continuing salvation work of our Lord Jesus. Constant redemption, continued transformation.

2007-09-07T10:19:00.000-04:00

The Seattle trip was quite a success; I'm about recovered from the fun. I met up with eleven of my friends: three are living in Seattle and eight flew in from San Antonio. We went to Mt. Rainier National Park, several parks around the Seattle area, Chateau Ste. Michelle, Pike Place Market, the Science Fiction Museum, the Experience Music Project, and many wonderful eateries and restaurants. It was very refreshing and encouraging to be around my friends again. Here are a few of the pictures we took from the weekend:

A jump shot at Mt. Rainier National Park

The group (minus Chris, who hadn't yet arrived): Bill, Ericka, Sara, Chad, Becky, Malachi, Cretia, Christy, Sarah, John, me

Christine Falls

A few of us in a tree at Ste. Michelle

Jump shot outside Elliot's seafood

2007-08-23T10:33:00.000-04:00

I'm getting ready for yet another Labor Day weekend trip. This year Seattle is the destination and the trip will serve more as one of reunion than cram-as-much-as-we-can-into-the-time-we're-there. My friends John and Sarah have been living up there for a year now and Becky recently moved up there for a three-month stay as part of her traveling physical therapy work. I'm really excited about getting to see everyone again; it seems like so long ago that I was visiting San Antonio, even though it was just a couple of months ago. This trip will serve as the bookend to my summer travels -- and I hope the ushering in of fall weather. Maybe I can bring some of the Seattle weather back to Alabama with me.

I have my first class this afternoon. It's called The Structure of English. My other two classes for the semester are Teaching ESL Composition and Methodologies of Teaching English as a Second Language. For my assistantship, I'm working as a research assistant for one of my professors and coordinating/supporting the four sections of Freshman Composition for Nonnative Speakers. Should make for a fun and interesting semester -- and hopefully a nice change of pace from the previous three months.

----------

I was excited to get to be back at church last night, too. I was a bit late, so I only caught the last half of Pastor Bill's lesson about the four soils. As he asked us to evaluate our hearts and determine which soil we felt we were, I thought about the cycles that soil and land sometimes goes through. I wondered about that parable representing seasons of life, that we go from rocky ground to plowed/fertile soil to thorny to dry and then through them again.

I missed out on the rain in Texas while I visited and, of course, while I was gone. I know the flooding oversaturated much of the soil, but I think I could've used some of that rain, literally and figuratively. I'm not going to get too caught up in gaging where I am and lose sight of what's going on around me, but I look forward to taking inventory over the next week or two and find out what's been going on that busyness may have kept me from seeing during the past months. And by the grace of Christ, something beautiful will grow.

2007-08-19T16:52:00.000-04:00

I'm back in Alabama after a crazy summer tour. I flew back from Orlando yesterday morning and have been crashing out at home since then. I'm hoping to catch up on my sleep by the end of the week, but moving back to Tuscaloosa tomorrow may put a kink in that plan. I've got to get back into the school mode this week. Fortunately, I'll only be in class three days a week; I'm also doing my assistantship hours with the same professor, who may let me work from home. Not that anything is going to be easy, but I'm definitely excited for the change of pace coming my way.

And I still have one more trip before I call an end to the summer: I'm going to Seattle for Labor Day weekend, continuing a tradition that began in 2005 with friends from San Antonio. I'm looking forward to a reunion with them and getting to enjoy their company, as well as weather under 100 degrees. Of course, this means more jumpshots, too.

I didn't take many pictures at Disney World; responsibilities didn't really allow it too much. Here are a few I did manage to get:

2007-08-09T23:17:00.001-04:00

I'm not a fan of Christian t-shirts, but I saw one a couple of days ago that left me with some excitement by what it communicated:

Jesus is here. Anything is possible.

So true and so exciting. I probably won't go out and get a shirt with that on it, but that's definitely an idea/phrase that's going to stick with me for a while.

2007-07-31T10:35:00.000-04:00

Mike Cope used this today and I wanted to post it as well.

“Somewhere along the way the movement of Jesus Christ became civilized as Christianity. We created a religion using the name of Jesus Christ and convinced ourselves that God’s optimal desire for our lives was to insulate us in a spiritual bubble where we risk nothing, sacrifice nothing, lose nothing, worry about nothing. Yet Jesus’ death wasn’t to free us from dying, but to free us from the fear of death. Jesus came to liberate us so that we could die up front and then live. Jesus Christ wants to take us to places where only dead men and women can go.” - Erwin Mcmanus

Things here at Disney are continuing to go very well. I'm doing some administrative work today and waiting for our group from Algeria to arrive. Even with all the trips I've made to the parks, there's still magic to be found -- it's awesome.

International incident

2007-07-17T00:06:00.000-04:00

Ok, maybe incident is a bit strong, but yesterday was quite amusing. I spent the day with our Italian group at Animal Kingdom. We had a class with Disney's Y.E.S. (Youth Education Series) program and then stayed in the park for several hours after it. On our way out (due to storms that closed the good rides), we passed by one of many, many Brasilian groups. Like Brasilians do, they were singing and chanting songs and enjoying themselves. My Italian group of 12 decided to sing "We Are the Champions" (in Italian, of course) because of their World Cup victory last summer. This was done to rouse the Brasilians and it did so perfectly. It prompted them to respond with chants of "Penta campion" -- five time champions, their reference to the number of times they've won the World Cup. (Brasil has more World Cup titles than any other country.)

That was fun to watch, but it escalated (someone threw a pitch fork...Anchorman reference) when that Brasilian group arrived behind us at the bus stop. Not only that, but there were two other Brasilian group in front of us. My group of 12 decided again to sing their victory songs and national anthem, which brought about a wave of Portuguese echoing through all around us. I was greatly amused because of the fun the Italians were having with it and the fact that I could've sung along with the Brasilians. No one was injured, though we received a handful of solitary fingers in our direction. There were some conversations between my kids and the Brasilians, mostly about soccer and the Copa America that finished up yesterday. Teenagers interacting and vocalizing for the sake of their countries -- quite amusing.

2007-07-10T19:08:00.000-04:00

Things have been quite busy since I've arrived in Orlando. There are four groups with us this week, with a total of 52 kids, ranging in age from 8-18. They are from Taiwan, the Dominican Republic, France, and Mexico. They've been great so far; we started our classes yesterday morning and will teach every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Today, as we will on most Tuesdays and Thursdays, we participated in one of Disney's Youth Education Series classes, which take groups on special tours and programs through the parks. We spent this morning with Y.E.S. at Animal Kingdom and finished the day at the park. The Y.E.S. program is so good; the interactive and experiential learning that they do is awesome. Combined with our teaching English, the kids get such a great experience and knowledge of a variety of subjects. I learned a great deal from the tour this morning and can't wait to do it again in two weeks.

I've been really encouraged the past couple of weeks witnessing God's answers to prayers. From the safety of my travels to the energy to keep going to the joy of what I'm doing, the "little" prayers I keep sending his way keep returning from him with such refreshment and fulfillment. And my thankfulness overflows. Thank you to those who keep lifting me up; I definitely sense God's hand upon me through your offerings. His faithfulness keeps marching on.

L.A. to Orlando

2007-07-08T09:40:00.000-04:00

Well, my fun is now over...I've got to go to work. I'm in LAX waiting for my Southwest flight to board. I'm flying to Orlando today and starting work at Disney once I arrive (I think). Maybe I'll get to start tomorrow. I've had such a wondeful time in Los Angeles the past several days. As keeping with my summer's theme, it's been jam-packed. Chad and I got to hang out with Kathlee and Rhonda, who are sisters of Glenna, the wife of our former roommate Will. They've been living in the L.A. area for several years and we had a blast with them. When we arrived, we toured Hollywood and Highland, had a picnic in a park, and took in a concert (the L.A. Philharmonic) at the Hollywood Bowl. Will and Glenna arrived on Thursday afternoon and met us at Dodger stadium for the Braves game (which they won 8-6). Friday was spent in Malibu. Chad and I made it to the beach Thursday and Friday mornings near the place we were staying as well. Yesterday was my friend Brack's wedding, which was awesome. It was small and at a Catholic church. The officiant is a Deacon and he was a trip; whatever staleness is paired with the Catholic faith was completely thrown out the window with his endearing seemingly-absentmindedness. He was precious. The wedding and reception were great. We capped off the night by looking at pictures from the trip. Alright, my flight is boarding, so I've got to run. Pics to come...

2007-07-03T00:51:00.000-04:00

Whew. I'm tired. Though I've caught up on a lot of my sleep, I still feel worn out from the last month of traveling. Surprisingly, I had the thought of a welcomed settledness this coming fall in Tuscaloosa -- quite strange. But what a great summer so far. So many miles, so many faces, so many memories already.

The most recent trip (Dominican Republic with Luke and Norm) was really special. My brother is planning on moving there sometime next year to work with an intensive training program for guys and girls interested in mission work. It's a program that's still somewhat in the dream and planning stages, but something that's got a wealth of potential. Before moving to the DR, he plans to go to language school in Guatemala to learn Spanish. Getting to be in the DR with Luke, seeing where he's planning to be, meeting those with whom he'll be working -- outstanding. There are so many great hearts listening to God's stirrings in that place and it seems the floodgates are about to open.

As for me, I'm still listening. There are so many possibilities for someone who certified, able, and willing to teach English overseas. This trip gave me a glance at what that might look like. Most every ministry, especially in places like the DR, could easily incorporate that type of education, especially when the education is so absent. I'm guessing (and hoping) I'll be faced with several options, overseas and in the U.S., when my master's program is over.

On the immediate horizon is a trip to L.A. for my friend Brack's wedding. From there I'll fly to Orlando to start work at Disney. Crazy to think that in less than a week I'll be at Disney World hanging out with international students and helping them learn and improve their English. Crazy.

Still going well

2007-06-27T20:39:00.000-04:00

We're half-way through our time in the Dominican and it's been such an encouraging trip. The time we've spent together in conversation, in dreaming and imagining, in vision casting, and in questioning has been so good for my heart. I'm kind of like a tag-along on this trip; more than anything, Luke, Norm, and I wanted to spend time together on a trip like this to feed off what God is doing in our lives. It's been great timing for me to participate and mainly listen in on conversations. Of course, I occasionally pipe in, but I've been pretty good at listening without speaking too much. I continue to see how great our God is and I can't ask for much more than that.

Safely in DR

2007-06-26T10:31:00.000-04:00

Luke, Norm, and I arrived in Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic yesterday afternoon. We're staying in Rio San Juan, visiting with the McClouds and Wallaces. The landscape reminds me a lot of Brasil, so there's a familiar aspect to being here. We're here through Saturday. Continue to keep us in your prayers as our time here continues. God's doing some exciting things and extending his kingdom in some cool ways. I look forward to sharing some of the conversations and dreaming I've been able to listen to in the short time I've been here.

The driving is over

2007-06-24T18:53:00.000-04:00

And I'm transitioning to travel by plane for the rest of the summer. I'm sitting at Gate 10 in the Huntsville, Alabama airport waiting to board a flight to Orlando. Luke's picking me up and we'll drive down to Norm's house (somewhere near Jupiter/West Palm Beach) and fly out of Miami tomorrow morning. The three of us are going to the Dominican Republic for a week. I'm not sure what all we'll be doing, but I'm really excited. Luke and I talked quite a bit through the spring about doing a mission trip together and this materialized a couple of weeks ago when I was in San Antonio. I had originally thought I'd spend this week in Florence, getting ready for my trips to L.A. and across the country to Disney World, but I jumped at the chance to spend time with Luke and Norm in the Dominican, especially since Luke's planning to move there sometime next spring.

I was in Oklahoma last week at Camp Zenith, which is hosted on the campus of Oklahoma Christian University. It's a church camp for high school students that I've been a part of for (now) the past seven summers. I really enjoyed being back and spending time with several youth ministers I hadn't seen in quite a while. It was also a great experience to hang out with the students, especially those from Northside who were in my youth group. I got to meet and spend time with Andy, who's now the youth minister at Northside -- he's a great guy. I think he's bringing a lot to the youth group and church and will be a blessing to the teens and their families.

As great as it was being at Zenith, there were still parts that left me frustrated. It didn't have anything to do with the people or what we were doing; it was the odd combination of God working on my heart and Satan continuing his attacks on said heart. It seemed like a tug-of-war of sorts: encouragement and insight vs. lies and guilt. Part of feeling torn may have been from a bit of a lack of sleep from some of the late nights hanging out with the ministry staff. I find that lack of sleep and tiredness doesn't leave me as spiritually sharp as I'd like to be, which I think leaves me more susceptible to those attacks.

But as God always does, he opens up a path that leads to rejuvenation and refreshement. I received a message about stopping in Fayetteville, Arkansas on my way back to Alabama in the middle of last week. One of the families that was on my parent's Brasil team lives there and another one of those families was coming in for a visit. So through sheer happenstance, a bit of luck, and Facebook, I decided to make my way there when camp ended on Friday. I arrived in the afternoon and left for Florence around 1:00 the next day. And I'm so glad I stopped by. I feel such a sense of warmth, purpose, and specialness being around the families who lived in Fortaleza with me in the early 80s. It centers me. It invokes dreams and hopes. What a blessing to have people in your life who you may not see for years but who still feel like family.

Here's a pic from breakfast yesterday.

L-R Marcos Jenks, Terry Lawson, Jenny Lawson, me, Heather Lawson, Deb Jenks (DJ took the picture)

Still going

2007-06-15T16:12:00.000-04:00

I'm leaving tomorrow for the next stop on my summer tour. I'm spending a little bit of time in Austin with my cousins before heading on to Oklahoma for camp. I'm working on the ministry staff at Zenith, a week-long camp I've been a part of the past six summers. I'll get to see some of my youth group kids as well as a lot of youth ministers I worked with and haven't seen in a year. It will be a great time to reconnect with them, to teach, and to sing with 500 teenagers.

My time in San Antonio has been so good. In so many ways I felt like I stepped in right where I'd left, as if I hadn't. In other ways, it was obvious that I've moved on. (My visit to the Starbucks I worked at was the best example of this. I stepped behind the counter to go to the back to look at the schedule so I could find out when to visit again and see other former co-workers, only to be reprimanded/reminded that since I was no longer a Starbucks employee, I couldn't be back there. That was weird.) I've revisited so many memories in my mind as I drove around this familiar setting; some memories made me laugh and some left me a bit sad -- but it was good to sense God's faithfulness in all of them. I've been encouraged by so many people who've told me how much I've been missed; it's so enriching to feel special like that. Knowing how undeserving I am of this incredible portion of grace given me, I soak it in all the more, constantly praising God for his generosity, because it's all an outpouring of his love.

2007-06-14T10:03:00.000-04:00

Anna and Craig are leaving today on a mission trip to Australia. Craig has made this trip with Lipscomb twice; it's the same trip that I went on in the summer of 2000. They'll be working with a great church in Brisbane. I'm really excited for both of them; it should be wonderful to experience a mission trip as a married couple for the first time. They've set up a blog to keep anyone interested updated with what they're doing. You can access it here: http://web.mac.com/craigtwright. (I'll also post this link on my sidebar.)

Will and Glenna Pearce and Mark came over last night for dinner. We had such a good time. Will was one of my roommates while I lived in San Antonio; he and Glenna have been married for a year and a half. They're an incredible couple and a source of encouragement for me. It's always refreshing and uplifting to be around them. Here are a couple of pictures from last night:

Chad, Will, Malachi, me

Will, Glenna, me

What Teachers Really Make

2007-06-11T18:44:00.000-04:00

I forget where I read about this clip, but I found it on YouTube a bit ago and have watched it a few times already. Add this clip to Robin Williams' character in Dead Poets Society as reasons why I want to teach.

Spurs 85, Cavaliers 76

2007-06-08T01:08:00.000-04:00

The opening tip of Game 1.

My friend Chris and I enjoying the Spurs win.

2007-06-07T14:34:00.000-04:00

Things continue to go well as I'm here in San Antonio. The NBA Finals start tonight and the city is quite excited about winning a 4th championship. I was glad my time here overlapped with these games. I also hoped to be lucky enough to catch a game at the AT&T Center -- and that became a reality yesterday afternoon. My friend Chris called and told me he had an extra ticket if I was interested. And in the words of Napolean Dynamite, "Heck yes," I was interested. So I get to go to my first NBA Finals tonight and cheer on the Spurs against the Cleveland Cavaliers. I'm pretty confident the Spurs are going to win the series (I predict them to do so in five games), but LeBron poses a strong threat. It will definitely be interesting.

My friend Becky, who moved to Albuquerque in February, is flying in tomorrow night. She's doing traveling physical therapy and is coming in for a visit, so she and I are thinking about visiting our friends at work to rub it in that we're not working at the time. Such a responsible and friendly thing to do...

Back in San Antonio

2007-06-04T15:11:00.000-04:00

It's been five months since I was last in San Antonio. I returned this past Friday after visiting Jacquie, Spruce, and their baby Lynlee in Houston. And it's great to be back. I'm staying in the house I lived in for almost three years while I was here. I've stayed up well past my grad school bedtime each night I've been here. And in a lot of ways, it feels like I never left.

I went to Northside yesterday morning and saw so many familiar, wonderful faces. I was so encouraged while I was there, having so many people tell me how good it was to see me and how much I'd been missed. If you've ever left a place (especially on good terms) it's so special to go back and re-connect.

A stupid little rally

2007-05-29T00:11:00.000-04:00

I stood with my arms crossed, observing. I didn't have a sign, but I was protesting inside. I tried to keep a distance from those applauding. I couldn't tell if I was being perceived as a supporter or not, which was the last thing I wanted to be at that place and that moment. I listened and didn't respond, except under my breath. The hate that spewed from the microphone was saddening and sickening. I was almost shocked that this event was actually occurring; it would be easy to blame it on my being in Alabama, but this group was from South Bend, Indiana. (The local paper listed 150 people in attendance; if that was so, maybe 25-30% were there to support it, from what I gathered by being in the crowd.) Somewhat ironically, it was the singing of "Jesus Loves the Little Children" that finally brought the rally to an early end. This past Saturday in Tuscumbia, Alabama, which is the birthplace of Helen Keller, right across the Tennessee River from my hometown of Florence, the Ku Klux Klan held a rally to decry our nation's immigration issues, among other topics.

My sister Bethany and I went to observe. She had some friends who were part of a group protesting the event. Thank God they were there. They were the ones who helped bring it to an early end. I was somewhat surprised and definitely disappointed that something like this, a rally to spew racial superiority, hatred, and ignorance, can still draw a group to support it. I'm not surprised at people coming out to protest it; I'm so glad for that. I'm more disappointed that what I hoped were casual observers like me were actually there applauding statements like "Mexicans are ruining our country" and "the Bible endorses segregation/separation." It was actually said that "Jacob have I loved and Esau have I hated" means God supports hatred towards Hispanics, Arabs, and any other non-whites. Ughhh.

The Klan's headquarters used to be in Tuscumbia, but moved to Arkansas in the late 80s or early 90s. This group that held this rally had a sign in front of the podium that stated they were from Indiana. The newspaper stated they were not sponsored or sent by the national organization of the KKK -- not sure what that means. But there stood six or seven men and at least one woman, in full robes, hoods on (though pulled up to reveal faces) and sad hearts exposed. I'm a big fan of free speech but can barely tolerate ignorant, hateful, and hate-inspired opinions and people. When Bethany and I were in Memphis last week, we visited the National Civil Rights Museum, which is an incredible place. We spent over three hours walkign through its exhibits, reading, listening, watching, and soaking in the history of the struggle from the recent past of so many people. My eyes swelled with tears reading Martin Luther King, Jr.'s Letter from a Birmingham Jail, viewing the pictures of policeman hosing down a crowd, and reading the accounts of the vile actions of people as young black men and women quietly sat-in at lunch counters across the South. I was so impressed by the nobility of those sit-ins as well as the most famous one by Mrs. Rosa Parks. What courage and what honor.

And to see firsthand that hatred towards particular groups still exists in pockets of this country makes me sad. I'd like to believe we've moved on, but we haven't. Great strides have been made, but so much more work needs to be done. Not in legislatures or in the halls of congress; not in constitutions or in laws. Works desperately needs to be done in hearts. We're in dire need of softer, gentler, and more humble hearts across our country. It hurt mine to hear such awful things from a stranger at a podium a hundred yards away; it was more sad to watch people five feet from me nod their heads as those words flowed.

But hope lingers. However simple they may be, these words extinguished the flames of hate for a little while:

Jesus loves the little children
All the children of the world
Red and yellow, black and white
They are precious in his sight
Jesus loves the little children of the world

Right around the corner

2007-05-26T10:15:00.000-04:00

I had a nice little run for several weeks of being consistent with my posts, but when school was let out, I've definitely slipped. Part of it has been the dial-up at my parents' house, part of it not being able to use the wireless cafe at the mall, part of it not being online as much. I did want to post some pics, but I'm going to have to wait until next week because blogger usually times out before it posts the pics when I'm using dial-up. How sad that I've got so little patience with internet connection.

The past couple of weeks have been good. I've been to Memphis a couple of times, back to Tuscaloosa once, and was in Birmingham for my Dad's graduation from law school. Luke was in town for that weekend, so all of us got to be together for a bit. I'm gearing up for my trip to Texas next week, stopping first in Houston for a couple of days and then moving on to San Antonio. I'm going to make a trip to Austin while I'm there to visit my cousin, his wife, and new baby. I'll finish up that trip in Oklahoma at Zenith, the high school camp I've worked at every summer since 2001 -- two years as a counselor when I interned and the past four on the ministry staff. It will be great to see some friends I've not seen since resigning from my youth ministry job, as well as a lot of the teens who were in my youth group.

Last night, we (Dad, Mom, Anna, Craig, Bethany, and me) went to dinner and Dad got out a piece of paper to create a calendar containing all of our schedules and trips. Anna and Craig are going to Australia for a month as sponsors for a mission trip with Lipscomb; Bethany is working for Lipscomb as a camp counselor at various church camps this summer, going to Northern Ireland on a mission trip, and then going to Costa Rica for a study-abroad program for the whole fall semester; Luke is working out a trip or two to the Dominican Republic, plans on moving back from Florida to Florence for the fall and then preparing to transition to mission work in the Dominican for next year; I'm traveling around like a chicken with its head cut off to Texas, Oklahoma, back to Alabama, Tennessee, on to California, and finally Florida. We're blessed to have so many opportunities to travel and work, play, minister, and experience so much of God's creation and what he's doing throughout his kingdom.

This seemingly maddening whirlwind of adventure across the highways and skyways is right around the corner. May it produce fruit of the eternal variety within everyone involved. And, most likely, I'll see a lot of you pretty soon...

Let the summer begin

2007-05-09T12:55:00.000-04:00

Fortunately, my plugging away at my paper in small increments over the past several days resulted in its practical completion yesterday, prompting me to leave the library yesterday afternoon and be done with it for 24 hours. I'm going to review it tomorrow morning, add a conclusion, and send it in. This has also led to my sooner-than-expected departure from Tuscaloosa, which means I'll be getting home a day early. Bethany is on her way to T-town right now to hang out for a day and help me get my stuff back to Florence. But, we've got a bit of a detour before doing that.

She and I are going to Atlanta this afternoon to watch the Braves play tonight. John Smoltz and Greg Maddux are pitching against each other; Maddux was with the Braves from 1993-2003, a key part of their dominant run. He and Smoltz are two of the best pitchers in my lifetime and of their generation, so I hope the hype that's surrounding this match up will manifest in a brilliantly pitched game...we'll see. It's going to be fun to do this trip with Bethany and spend time with her. She's working for Lipscomb this summer, attending various camps as a representative and getting to serve as a counselor at the camps as well. She's perfect for the job; thankfully, we'll get some great hang out time before we take off in different directions for the summer, starting today. And I hope to remember to take my camera, which I forgot when Dad and I went a few weeks ago.

With all the traveling and visiting I'll be doing during the next several months, I hope to keep a photo journal of sorts in this space as I have time and internet access (not sure what that's going to be like at Disney -- but I do hope to get a picture with as many characters as possible).

I've thought for some time that the Chik-Fil-A "Eat More Chikin" ads with the cows are the best on-going marketing campaign, but Apple (with its "I'm a Mac. And I'm a PC." commercials) is quickly catching up. The latest:

2007-05-08T08:39:00.000-04:00

I'm not exactly sure why, but I love this Dr. Pepper commercial. Gulping the two liter is almost too much.

And a look at Ninja Warrior -- this was made for my brother to compete in.

2007-05-01T12:19:00.001-04:00

I stayed up last night watching the Spurs vs. Nuggets. If you're a basketball fan and missed this game, ouch. Sure, it's the first round of the playoffs and the "important" games aren't being played yet ("I don't watch until the Finals, 'cause that's when it matters" is such a stupid thing to say), but this was exciting basketball. Melo was making everything; Iverson was cutting through the defense and getting to the rim without too much difficulty; the Nuggets' bigs were picking up the misses and putting them back; and San Antonio just kept hanging around, lingering, keeping the game within striking distance. I kept thinking, "This is shaping up to be a game the Spurs can steal...I just hope they can make some stops."

And, what do you know, they did. They turned up the pressure, made some big shots, and kept their calm the whole time through. Even with Duncan getting hacked without getting any calls; even with Parker driving through the lane, getting knocked down without a foul called; even with a poor percentage from the 3-point line, they stuck with what they knew to do: high defensive intensity, smart decisions offensively, keep the ball moving and a good shot will emerge, and leave it all on the court. It's so rewarding as a basketball fan to watch a team play unselfishly (mentioning smart would be redundant, I think). Like Horry said after the game -- the play where he made a big 3 from the corner was not designed for him; it was designed for Tony, but when you play team ball, those opportunities come up. He was ready and he made the shot. I laughed out of excitement and amazement when his shot went in, out of excitement and amazement that he continues to make shots like that.

I was glad, too, that Kenny and Charles in the TNT studio spoke up about how much Duncan was getting hacked and the absurdity that he wasn't going to the free-throw line. Doug Collins, the color analyst for the game, made me mad by completely ignoring this. I'm sure commentators are told to watch their words regarding the officials, but there were some awful calls both ways. Thankfully, the officials didn't determine the game; but the absence of those calls just bothers my idea of fairness and justice, of an impartial game. If my guys are going to get called for fouling, then make sure the same standard is being played out on the other end too. All that to say, Kenny and Charles know what they're talking about and their comments confirmed that I wasn't missing something or letting my cheering for the Spurs cloud the game I was watching.

Game 5 on Wednesday. I hope the game's not close (and in the Spurs favor) because Lost comes on at 9:00 and I'm not going to be able to flip back and forth between the two.

2007-04-30T10:41:00.000-04:00

Wow, it's hard to believe this is my final week of class this semester. Though I'm still staring at a 20-page paper due in a week and a half and a couple of take-home finals, I'm feeling quite peaceful. I got a little work done this weekend towards knocking those out; could've done a bit more, but it was nice to sit back and watch the Spurs and Braves a few times. For the most part, class assignments are due, so if I'm even somewhat disciplined this week, I shouldn't have too much to worry about.

I got to be in another skit yesterday at church. This one was much shorter and lighter; I didn't have to yell and spit. I was supposed to be a foreign bakery clerk; I tried imitating some of the speech of my Korean students (without any ill-intent) -- not sure if I pulled that off or not. I know I definitely don't look Asian. But it was fun and contributed nicely to the sermon about bearing the image of Christ everywhere we go. I'm going to miss being at Capstone this summer; not sure what I'll find at Disney, but I bet there are some good options.

I'm getting really excited about my summer. It's going to be nice spending time at home. I'm also going to be in San Antonio for a couple of weeks in June, which is going to be awesome. A wedding in L.A. in July and then I'm off to Disney. Full and busy, just like every summer I've had the past six years. I don't guess it's out of my blood yet.

---------

I've been reading through Daniel the past week and have really been struck by a couple of things. First, his faith is just incredible. Though several of his stories are so familiar, reading through the text in The Message was refreshing and enlightening. His prayers have really caught my attention as well; I'd never really noticed them before, I don't think. And having read through chapter 9 this morning, I appreciate so much the way he wrestled with the visions he was receiving from God. He woke up scared and confused; he was physically bothered by them, even though they came from God. It seems he was dragged down by them, in a way that left him plodding along -- but still faithful, still trusting, just confused. And his reaction to this confusion and mystery? He fasts. He studies. He sequesters himself in God. (I'm jumping ahead a bit into ch. 10, but it's not only cool that an angel shows up saying, "Sorry I'm late, got held up in a fight," but that Daniel was that focused and intent in those three weeks.)

That reading has been paired with the end of Matthew and beginning of Mark. A few days ago, I read again the story of the paraplegic being dropped through the ceiling to be healed by Jesus and was again struck by the faith displayed. What a crazy thing to do! It's almost sheer madness. I don't know the physics or structures of the homes of that day, but my mental image has always tried to figure out how they cut a hole in the ceiling and lowered him down. Maybe Jesus was in an open-aired section and they lowered him over a balcony of sorts -- I don't know. However it was done, it was desperate and gutsy and amazing. Amazing faith. Good, good stuff to think about.

Poetry Week, Entry 5

2007-04-27T08:47:00.000-04:00

She smiles; I melt.
She looks my way and I hold her glance.
She speaks; I soak in the words as if they were oxygen for a dying man.
I watch her face, noting the subtle patterns of her lips forming words --
A small dimple near her left eye forms with each upward turn of her mouth
Bringing to my attention the extravagant and encompassing reality of her beauty, found in every aspect of her being.
Her eyes dance with excitement as she regales me with storied memories.
I dare speak and she listens with a gripping, attentive affection --
Nodding, smiling, laughing, emanating joyous light --
I’m lost in the hope that this evening is the beginning of a conversation lasting the rest of our lives.
My fragile heart weakly musters up its remaining courage to dream of being whole.

Poetry Week, Entry 4

2007-04-26T09:53:00.000-04:00

I'm learning to surrender
I'm learning to let go
I'm expecting transformation
As I release control
My hands, though, never gripped
This control I tried to hold
For it's not within my grasp
To dictate my river's flow
So with all my inmost being
I attempt to step away
From being the director
And find peace within his sway

Poetry Week, Entry 3

2007-04-25T08:50:00.000-04:00

Songs form within my heart but no words escape my lips
The notes create a melody of despair laced with confusion
It is harmonized by darkness from the lack of light I see
Its rhythm labors coarsely, dragging disappointedly

Though words form not upon my impatient waiting tongue
My mind floods with the solid emptiness of the absence of her love
Amidst this darkness brooding, there exist sunbeams of hope
Which impossibly continue fighting against the reality of her

When in her presence, I cannot peer
Or deeply gaze in blue eyes clear
Or speak of dreams beyond this breath
Or dream of ways to stop this death
For when she’s near a hope springs new
A hope of us, a hope untrue
But to this hope my heart does cling
And songs emerge which I can’t sing

Poetry Week, Entry 2

2007-04-24T09:02:00.000-04:00

I want to write a love song
But don’t know where to start
I want to draft a piece of art
That woos a woman’s heart

I’ll commence this work with lyrics
That describe alluring eyes
Which leave me still and breathless
Entranced and hypnotized
Eyes that radiate much brighter
Than a star could hope to shine
Eyes that captivate attention
And paralyze my mind

She overwhelms my thoughts
With the slightest passing glance
Those eyes provide a dose of hope
That one day I’ll get the chance
To sweep her off her feet
To embrace her as my own
To be the knight she dreams of
And no longer need to roam

Poetry Week, Entry 1

2007-04-23T09:57:00.000-04:00

I'm not going to date these or mention the poem's inspiration; the only thing I'll say is that the poems posted this week were written sometime in the past five years. Hope you enjoy...here's the first of five for this week:

Like gold I’m being burned
Extracted of my dross
Refinement calls for measures
That keep me feeling lost
Slowly, surely purified
My glow begins to shine
As this filth that lived within me
Is removed, no longer mine
Though this fire aches the marrow
Deep within my brittle bones
Its cleansing power to heal me
Brings a strength I’ve never known
No impurities now linger
All that’s left is me made whole
I’m being changed into his image
And I’m ready for my role

Crazy Day

2007-04-21T10:50:00.000-04:00

Football fever is gripping Tuscaloosa -- yes, even in April. It may not even be fair to bring it up right now because this town seems to have that fever year-round. I can't say from experience yet since I've only been here a few months, but yesterday and today really tell quite a tale. The A-Day Game is today, the culmination of spring practice, a scrimmage against each other, a "game" free and open to the public that may be attended by 60,000. A typical A-Day Game has an attendance of 20,000-30,000, I think. With a new coach (Nick Saban) coming in with incredibly high expectations, people are ready for the Crimson Tide to return to its glory days. We'll see; that's an awfully tall order and should require a nice helping of patience, something not often found among college football fans.

It's a gorgeous day, sunny and 57 degrees right now. Not a cloud in the sky. I went for a run this morning, enjoying the cool breeze and rising sun. Now on the streets in front of the coffee shop I write from, I watch runner after runner competing in a triathalon that began at 7:00. There's a pregnant lady at a table with a couple of others passing out water and Gatorade as they run by; she looks as if she'll be delivering later today, but what a cool thing to be doing. It's quite a sight: this coffee shop is both near the stadium and my apartment, so people are driving in for the game, some are in chairs alongside the street cheering the runners, everybody in crimson and white. Mom and Dad should be arriving in a few hours and we'll go over to Bryant-Denny for the first time, taking in this craziness.

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One thing I love about sports is the way they bring people together, especially on the heels of tragedy. I love watching Sportscenter and seeing the Washington Nationals wearing Virgina Tech hats instead of their own; it's exciting to hear that at Penn State today for their spring game, their fans may leave their navy and white at home and come dressed in orange and maroon; Alabama and Auburn played a baseball game yesterday in which Alabama wore maroon and Auburn wore orange -- though those are some of their own school colors, the gesture had nothing to do with the Tide or Tigers; and watching the Braves highlights last night, I saw several players and coaches with "VT" in black marker on their hats.

So even though Virginia Tech lost its baseball game yesterday, traces of hope appeared. There was a small rally in the bottom of the 8th in which they quickly scored three runs; I'm guessing those moments were quite exciting as the five-run lead Miami held faded a bit. It's these types of things that reflect so well the nature of mourning: small gains, incrimental bursts of joy even though despair still seems to blanket each person. This grief is not something to rush through or a hurdle that needs to be quickly jumped. While it's not a desired place to be, from the Psalms, among so many scriptures, it seems that God's presence is rarely more intimate, whether it's felt or not. The shaping and molding, as well as the strength, that emerges from this rubble is almost always inspirational. One of the things I appreciate so much about Mike Cope and his writing is the way he writes about his daughter, who died several years ago. It's a pain that still haunts, but something that's brought healing, joy, recovery, inspiration, and a wealth of other blessings to God's kingdom. I don't think God caused it, but I adamantly believe he worked from and through it to build his kingdom -- and it's a work that continues today.

Coming Soon: Poetry Week

2007-04-20T17:27:00.000-04:00

I've recently been thinking and playing with the idea of posting some non-prose things I've written from the past several years. And I think I'm going to make next week Poetry Week at Musings. Consider yourself warned.

Since I've not mentioned it in quite a while, I'd like to say thanks for stopping by and reading. I really don't have a clue who reads this, outside of those who leave comments. And I love comments -- thanks! I also love people who drop in to check for an update, read, then leave. I do that too and have no ill feelings towards anyone who does the same. So whether you're reading for fun, boredom, or possible insight, thanks. Have a beautiful weekend.

Memphis and Disney

2007-04-17T12:24:00.000-04:00

Such a sad and awful scene in Blacksburg. May God's grace rain down.

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I had a great time with Anna and Craig last night in Memphis:

Ribs at a restaurant (Blues City Cafe, I think) on Beale Street. A Spurs/Grizzlies game in the beautiful FedEx Forum. Coffee, cheesecake, and a raspy-voiced singer on piano accompanied by a stand-up bass at The Cheesecake Corner. Anna and Craig treated me well.

As far as my plans for the summer go, I accepted a position with The Language Company, which is responsible for English Days at Walt Disney World. I will be the Academic Coordinator for the program; I'll be the director's right-hand person. English Days brings in international students (ages 9-18) from around the world for an incredibly unique English language program. Not only are the students immersed in English, they study in a fascinating setting: one day in class will be focused on the vocabulary and concepts of physics, and the following day will be spent riding roller coasters. I'll do a lot of work with the teachers and guides, as well as have some administrative responsibilities, such as assigning students to classes, but I'll also get to teach and guide. I don't think I'll get to be a cast member. Anyway, if you're considering venturing to Orlando this summer, I'll be at Disney July-August.

Walking in Memphis

2007-04-16T09:39:00.000-04:00

I had a really good trip to Memphis last night. The drive was quite nice along Hwy. 78 even if it was through Mississippi, whose roads are not the best. But I did get reception on my phone, so I enjoyed a few conversations with San Antonio friends. I actually beat Anna and Craig to their house; they had a meeting in Nashville last night for their Australia mission trip this summer, so I lounged around a bit before they arrived.

We're going to get ribs this evening for dinner before going to the Spurs game. The Spurs took a tough loss yesterday in Dallas; not sure why or how Duncan got thrown out. And even though we may only get to see the reserves play tonight, it will be fun to see my team.

I've got some exciting news about my summer plans, but I'm going to wait a couple of days to post about it because it deserves its own space and I really need to get some work done right now. Hint: I'm going to be in Florida.

2007-04-14T11:50:00.001-04:00

I forgot to take my camera to Atlanta last night; it worked out ok because there wasn't too much of the game I'd like to remember, at least from the Braves standpoint. Dad and I showed up as the game was starting and were met with the longest line for tickets I've ever seen. We were both caught off guard by it. When we got into Turner, the Marlins were up 5-0 and we panicked that Josh had hit a grand slam or something and that we'd missed it. Well, he struck out that first at bat and before we got to our seats, we saw him hit a solid single up the middle.

We sat in the lower level, finding an aisle to walk down in which someone wasn't there checking tickets. We moved in the 9th inning to where Ginger (Josh's wife) and his parents were sitting and visited with them for the end of the game and through the fireworks at the end. Rhett, Ginger and Josh's baby boy, is quite cute; when we got there, a TBS cameraman was filming him and they got on TV. Dad and I also got to see Cody, my cousin; he was in town for his girlfriend's formal. It was a nice surprise to get to see him for a bit too.

I've now seen Dontrelle Willis pitch twice and he's 2-0. Hopefully the Braves will rebound tonight (if they play) and tomorrow and get the lead back in the East.

But more than anything, it was a blast spending all that time with Dad. I dropped him off in Birmingham at law school for his class and he's headed back to Florence afterwards. Of all the benefits, joys, and positives from making the move from San Antonio to Tuscaloosa, being closer to my family is definitely far and away at the top of that list.

2007-04-13T10:37:00.001-04:00

I'm meeting my Dad later today in Birmingham and we're driving over to Atlanta for the Braves/Marlins game tonight. We'd originally planned to go tomorrow, but the weather looks to be rainy and thought this would work out better. He doesn't have class tonight, but does have one tomorrow morning, so it will be an easy drive from Tuscaloosa to the law school. (By the way, he graduates May 20, which is incredible to think about. I'll have to write more at a later time in an attempt to recap the dedication, determination, sacrifice, and a whole host of other superlatives to send his way for working and going to law school the past three years.) Anyway, I'm really excited about seeing the Braves play at Turner Field; it's also exciting because Josh Willingham, a friend from high school, plays for the Marlins.

Along with the Braves game, this (extended) weekend holds another exciting trip and sports event: I'm going to Memphis sometime Sunday to see Anna and Craig and we're going to the Spurs/Grizzlies on Monday night. Fortunately, some friends are covering my shift at the writing center and it won't be too big of a deal to miss my first class, so I get a somewhat extended weekend out of it -- but more than that, great family time. I'm excited to see Anna and Craig's place and spend some time with them in Memphis. And get to watch the Spurs.

With the Braves and Spurs games on tap for the next few days, it got me thinking about some of my favorite sports weekends from the past that I was able to be a part of in person. Two immediately jumped out, which I've recapped here before, but necessitate another telling. Chronologically:

October 19-21, 2001: Braves/Astros NLDS, Auburn/Florida
I met Dad and Luke on Friday in Atlanta and saw the Braves beat Houston in the Division Series. This was the last time the Braves made it past the first round of the playoffs. It was also the first year of relief work for John Smoltz; the stadium was electric when he came in to wrap up the game in the ninth. Coming off the attacks of 9/11, these playoffs were pretty special; the Yankees/Diamondbacks World Series was terribly exciting, especially since the Yankees didn't win. But I was glad for them to win those two games in New York on last at bat homers. But enough about them, the Braves game was awesome.

I left the game and drove to Auburn that evening to visit some friends from high school. It was my friend Amber's birthday and Florida was coming to town. Ranked #1. Auburn had been playing ok, but not up to their potential. Florida was running over and passing around everyone. Another friend, who took pictures for the Auburn paper, gave me her ID so I could go to the game. It was the first game I'd been to at Auburn since I was in 7th grade and what an awesome experience. Auburn won on a final second field goal, upending the #1 Gators and kicking them out of the national championship picture. We went by Toomer's Corner and watched it get decorated with toilet paper to finish the evening.

October 15-19, 2004: Red Sox/Yankees ALCS
Whew, I still get giddy just thinking about how this played out. When the Red Sox swept the Angels in the ALDS and the Yankees beat the Twins, I bought two tickets to Game 6 of the Championship Series, hoping there would be the type of drama from the 2003 match-up, when Aaron Boone hit a home run in the 11th inning of Game 7. On Friday, October 15, the Red Sox were down 2-0 in the series and headed to Fenway for three games. I, on the other hand, was headed to HEB camp for Northside's Family Retreat, a place where my cell phone didn't work and my time didn't allow to sneak away to my truck and listen to the games. It turned out, Game 3 got rained out and moved to Saturday. I didn't know this until Sunday as I was driving back to San Antonio.

And when I found out what had happened in the rescheduled Game 3 (the Yankees killed the Sox 19-8), I began wondering what I was going to do with the ticket to the game and the plane ticket to New York. I got back to my house and crashed out. Game 4 came on that evening and I watched practically every pitch, all the way through the 12th inning when David Ortiz hit a 2-run homer to keep the series alive. Monday was quite a day: talking on the phone to Dad, trying to figure out what we were going to do if there wasn't a game, but planning what to do and where to meet in New York if there somehow was a Game 6; reading the recaps of the previous night's miracle win; anticipating being in New York the very next day; I can't imagine that I got any work done. I got home and planted myself on the couch again, ready to watch the series get extended. And extended was a great word for it: this game went two innings longer, finishing up in the 14th with another hit from Ortiz to send the series back to New York. I forget what the time was when it actually ended, but I had an early morning flight, so I tried to sleep, fighting off quite a bit of adrenaline.

I flew out the next morning and arrived in New York City around 1:00 or 2:00 Eastern time. I met Dad at the Metropolitan Museum of Art and we wandered through that for a few hours, trying to take as much of it in as possible. We left and found a pizzaria, had dinner, and got on a packed subway headed for the Bronx. We got there in plenty of time, which allowed us to tour Monument Park behind centerfield, watch the teams warm up (due to the exhausting games, they didn't take batting practice) and take in the shrine that is Yankee Stadium. The game turned out to be a classic, especially because of Curt Schilling's performance. When I got back to San Antonio and read about what I couldn't see at the game, it hit me how incredible it was to have been present for it. Schilling has his ankle sutured, but at some point in the game they came lose, causing him to bleed through his sock. Affectionately, the game's now referred to as "The Bloody Sock Game." And Dad and I were there. The Red Sox (no pun intended) won 4-2 and sent the game to a do-or-die 7th for the second year in a row. This time, they clobbered the Yanks and went on to win their first World Series since 1918.

I'm not anticipating anything like that for this weekend, but it will be a lot of fun in its own way. Maybe it won't have historic significance or even a playoff atmosphere. But it will be more important than those variable can contribute. It will be time with family and that can't be topped.

2007-04-12T10:38:00.000-04:00

"Then they'll realize that I am God!"

I've been reading a chapter from an Old Testament book and a New Testament book each morning for most of this year. I've been through Jeremiah, Isaiah, Lamentations, Luke, and Acts so far; currently, I'm near the end of Ezekiel and the middle of Matthew. One of the Bible classes I took at Lipscomb focused on Ezekiel, so I have a general idea of what was going on, or did at some point anyway, so I'm not completely lost, which sometimes happens in reading through the OT. I've been doing these readings from The Message, which has been very insightful and fresh; for anyone worried about me, my Bible is a parallel NIV/Message.

There have been a few notable things I've taken so far in reading through Ezekiel again. One happened this past weekend. By sheer happenstance, chapter 36 fell on Saturday and 37 on Sunday, meaning I was reading through the breath of God giving life to dry bones and hearts of stone being replaced by God-willed hearts on Easter weekend. What cool timing! I think I realized it Wednesday or Thursday of that week, so the excitement and anticipation got to build a bit leading up to those great chapters.

Something I keep coming back to is the quote at the top of this entry, "Then they'll realize that I am God!" So many chapters finish with this; so many sections within chapters finish with this statement from God. In all he's doing, from the destruction of nations to the discipline of Israel, he's pointing and leading everyone to this great conclusion and realization: He's God. It matters not what idols exist, it matters not who or what others claim to be the almighty -- God is it. And we will see it. We will know it. There will be no doubt; there will be no question.

So we watch. And listen. Look and peer. We patiently anticipate the revelation that in all that is happening around and within us points us and others to the reality of the glory of God, of his majesty and holiness. For some things, our wait is but moments and days. For others, years and possibly lifetimes. Regardless, the same reality exists, the same thing becomes known. We realize that the one we serve is God, who brings life to that which has none, who replaces lifelessness with his spirit.

My new favorite song

2007-04-11T10:04:00.000-04:00

"Mighty to Save"

Everyone needs compassion
A love that's never failing
Let mercy fall on me
Everyone needs forgiveness
A kindness of a Savior
The hope of nations

Savior
He can move the mountains
My God is Mighty to save
He is Mighty to save
Forever
Author of salvation
He rose and conquered the grave
Jesus conquered the grave

So take me as You find me
All my fears and failures
Fill my life again
I give my life to follow
Everything i believe in
Now I surrender

Shine your light and let the whole world see
We're singing for the glory of the risen King...Jesus

Savior
He can move the mountains
My God is Mighty to save
He is Mighty to save
Forever
Author of salvation
He rose and conquered the grave
Jesus conquered the grave