Gross hands

This is a post about washing hands after hittin’ the can. I must confess, the first time I started washing my hands regularly after using the can with the exception for #2, was in college. It was all thanks to the persistence of my dear friend, Adam Ewing. Without Adam, I’d probably still be a caveman, one that gets sick a lot. He convinced me that it was indeed sick to walk out of the can without washin’ the hands. Now, on with the post!

Many of us have experienced this, we’re washing our hands at the sink, when someone comes flying out of the stall and runs to the door and makes a departure. Instantly we’re jolted, “What just happened!?!?! Did some dude just walk out of here, after a #2?” What makes it worse of course is that they just grabbed the handle on the way out! Now, as you grab the handle, you can’t just grab it, you have to get a paper towel and grab the handle with it, or you might as well go take a #2 and not wash! We all know that it gets worse, not only did they just grab the handle, and probably the handle to get back into their office, but they will shake other people’s hands, handle money, use keyboards, push elevator buttons and may even be the guy who is serving you food!!!! This all said, JaBurd and myself have come up with a solution. Toilet police. They’ll watch over us like Batman over Gotham, like Superman over Lois Lane, like your boss over your shoulder when you’re reading this post. They can write tickets, pull people over as they are walking back to their office and even do raids on office cubes where guilty perps. have been walkin’ the streets for years. They’ll be funded by the government, hey, they’re the guys who sent monkeys into space, pay 500 bucks for a toilet seat and hire contractors to do work that they could do themselves! Don’t get me wrong, I think the police, fire fighters and CIA have an important job, but they’re not the only guys the government hires, they hire a lot of people! Even me! All toilet police will carry hand sanitizer on their belts, as well as Lysol and air freshener. They will sometimes sit disguised in stalls waiting for the guy next door to commit a violation. You’ll see them pulled over on the side of the hall too, ready to do random hand checks!

Ok, so this is a bit ridiculous, but there are other alternatives. One being we just all refuse to wash our hands and just “suck it up!” as my girlfriend would say. Another is public awareness like the smoking campains. “Just say no to toilet hands” “Dare to keep hands clean” They can do after school programs where they give kids candy after they wash their hands. Make movies about how cool it is to wash your hands. Get famous movie stars to pose with wet hands and put them on billboards that say “Got clean?” I’m sure you can think of a few others. The bottom line is wash your hands after the can! This post goes out to my boy named Burd, thanks for the brainstorming.

bein' cool

IF you're still reading this blog I give you props. I have to admit, I hardly use the internet anymore! It all started when I lost my internet connection in June. After a few weeks of it, my appetite was curbed and I found that I hardly ever used it. I still read a few blogs now and then, but mostly just to see what stuff my friends are up to.

I don't know why, but my life has a lot of ketchup stories. On Sunday we were at Ruby Tuesdays eating lunch. I had left my cell phone at someone's house by accident (it fell out of my pocket). My girlfriend, Andi, got a hold of it and decided that I would have to do some dumb stuff before I got it back. When she went up to the salad bar, I went through her purse (I know, it's a crime in most states) and grabbed her phone (mine was being held hostage in another girl's purse). She didn't know it was gone and I later agreed to all the dumb things she made me do, like sing "I'm a little tea pot" with a british accent, and have a friend draw a smiley face out of ketchup on my forehead. I was agitated when doing these things for sure, but I got through them knowing that whatever she made me do I was going to double or tripple it for her when she figured out that I had her phone. Well the time came and I got my phone back. Then I told her that if I ever get a hold of her phone she better watch out, because I'm going to make it worse for her. She then proceeds out of parinoia to go through her purse looking for her phone that she had just earlier made a phone call on. The look on her face when she figured out that I had it, and had my phone back in my possession was priceless. Scott and Paul were giving her and all the girls such a hard time after she found out, it almost made me feel better that I had just put ketchup on my head. Almost. I let her squirm for a few hours and then I droppped it off at her parents house. She wasn't there, and they both watched me as I walked in the house. Man it was awkward. Anyway, you should have seen her face. She knew she'd been snookered!

teachin' me grace

God has been teaching me a lot about grace lately. Words always fall short.

I was part of a conversation with a person struggling with a drug addiction we ran into on Sunday after the fireworks downtown. God showed me a small snippet of his love for that person during the divine appointment we had with them. The backdrop was a gay bar we had parked in front of by accident. As I reflected over the backdrop on the way home, I felt sadness for them. I am reading a book on grace right now, and the following day, the chapter I read focused on the struggle of one man who struggles with homosexual tendencies. How he had divorced his wife and left his children. The book talked about the Christian culture and how hateful it has been towards these people. Last time I checked, Jesus wasn’t hatin’ on the outcasts and the people with struggles. He loved them. He extended grace to them. I didn’t ever read of him giving a high five to someone committing adultery, but he did love them in spite of their sin. Kind of like how he died for all of us, despite our sin, our position as enemies of himself. It has really made me re-examine how I’ve joked in the past about homosexuality. People are in an all out struggle with this tendency, I realize my need to extend more grace, more tact, more love. It is interesting for me to realize now that grace isn’t grace unless the one extending it pays a price. I think in the past I saw grace as ignoring a problem, bending the truth. Rather, I see it now as a sacrifice made with love for those who may not even want it.

odd day.

Two memorable things happened today....

1. I thought I punctured my lung and couldn’t breath at all for at least 30 seconds, it was a long 30 seconds. Everyone around me seemed confident that I would start breathing soon, I wasn’t. I did however manage to almost grab the Frisbee out of the air as I dove for it (Ultimate Frisbee). Man, I’m getting old.

2. I cracked my finger, I mean by that, that it popped…. on Scott’s belly! I was sitting on the couch trying to do some stuff on the internet, and he lifts up his shirt and charges me with his stomach. I figured if I held out my index finger, it would be a deterrent. It wasn’t. I couldn’t let him call my bluff, so I just kept it out there, and then he ran into it. I think I have the weirdest roommate in the world. I certainly didn’t wake up this morning thinking I would crack my finger on my roommate’s stomach. It’s gross. Did I mention I couldn’t breath for like 30 seconds? Man, it was a long 30 seconds.

Job 31

Job 31 is a curious chapter. I googled it, and found a person who refered to it as the man's equivalent of the Proverbs 31 woman. It is a quite interesting comparison. I don't think I've ever heard anyone make a reference to the male equivalent. A good chapter to read and think over. Enjoy!

Job 31
1"I have made a covenant with my eyes; how then could I gaze at a virgin? 2What would be my portion from God above and my heritage from the Almighty on high? 3Is not calamity for the unrighteous, and disaster for the workers of iniquity? 4Does not he see my ways and number all my steps?
5"If I have walked with falsehood and my foot has hastened to deceit; 6(Let me be weighed in a just balance, and let God know my integrity!) 7if my step has turned aside from the way and my heart has gone after my eyes, and if any spot has stuck to my hands, 8then let me sow, and another eat, and let what grows for me be rooted out.

9"If my heart has been enticed toward a woman, and I have lain in wait at my neighbor's door, 10then let my wife grind for another, and let others bow down on her. 11For that would be a heinous crime; that would be an iniquity to be punished by the judges; 12for that would be a fire that consumes as far as Abaddon, and it would burn to the root all my increase.

13"If I have rejected the cause of my manservant or my maidservant, when they brought a complaint against me, 14what then shall I do when God rises up? When he makes inquiry, what shall I answer him? 15Did not he who made me in the womb make him? And did not one fashion us in the womb?

16"If I have withheld anything that the poor desired, or have caused the eyes of the widow to fail, 17or have eaten my morsel alone, and the fatherless has not eaten of it 18(for from my youth the fatherless grew up with me as with a father, and from my mother's womb I guided the widow), 19if I have seen anyone perish for lack of clothing, or the needy without covering, 20if his body has not blessed me, and if he was not warmed with the fleece of my sheep, 21if I have raised my hand against the fatherless, because I saw my help in the gate, 22then let my shoulder blade fall from my shoulder, and let my arm be broken from its socket. 23For I was in terror of calamity from God, and I could not have faced his majesty.

24"If I have made gold my trust or called fine gold my confidence, 25if I have rejoiced because my wealth was abundant or because my hand had found much, 26if I have looked at the sun when it shone, or the moon moving in splendor, 27and my heart has been secretly enticed, and my mouth has kissed my hand, 28this also would be an iniquity to be punished by the judges, for I would have been false to God above.

29"If I have rejoiced at the ruin of him who hated me, or exulted when evil overtook him 30(I have not let my mouth sin by asking for his life with a curse), 31if the men of my tent have not said, 'Who is there that has not been filled with his meat?' 32(the sojourner has not lodged in the street; I have opened my doors to the traveler), 33if I have concealed my transgressions as others do by hiding my iniquity in my bosom, 34because I stood in great fear of the multitude, and the contempt of families terrified me, so that I kept silence, and did not go out of doors-- 35Oh, that I had one to hear me! (Here is my signature! Let the Almighty answer me!) Oh, that I had the indictment written by my adversary! 36Surely I would carry it on my shoulder; I would bind it on me as a crown; 37I would give him an account of all my steps; like a prince I would approach him.

38"If my land has cried out against me and its furrows have wept together, 39if I have eaten its yield without payment and made its owners breathe their last, 40let thorns grow instead of wheat, and foul weeds instead of barley."

The words of Job are ended.

ESV

See, the Sovereign LORD comes with power,
and his arm rules for him.
See, his reward is with him,
and his recompense accompanies him.
He tends his flock like a shepherd:
He gathers the lambs in his arms
and carries them close to his heart;
he gently leads those that have young.
Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand,
or with the breadth of his hand marked off the heavens?
Who has held the dust of the earth in a basket,
or weighed the mountains on the scales
and the hills in a balance?
Who has understood the mind of the LORD,
or instructed him as his counselor?
Whom did the LORD consult to enlighten him,
and who taught him the right way?
Who was it that taught him knowledge
or showed him the path of understanding?
Surely the nations are like a drop in a bucket;
they are regarded as dust on the scales;
he weighs the islands as though they were fine dust.

Isaiah 40:10-15

invisible boogers

It’s been a booger of a time. Pardon the bad attempt at making a joke. You see, my little girlfriend (Andi) gave me a cold she had, the end of last week. When she originally got it, she was quite the little whiner. Being the “tough” boyfriend I am [Sidenote: whenever I say boyfriend, now there’s this association I make with Sqeaker, the live-in boyfriend cat of Andi’s cat Carmel, who got her pregnant and happens to be her brother. Cat soap-operas, I know. Also I should state: No! In no way is Andi possibly pregnant, unless you can get pregnant from holding hands, or my sister. End sidenote]. I decided getting a cold wasn’t that big of a deal and we hung out anyway. Well, now it’s been about a week and I still have the cold I got from her.

However, this cold has a weird side effect. It makes me think I have boogers hanging out of my nose all the time. If I’m ever in a conversation with you during this past week, I’m sure you’ve seen me rubbing my nose. It’s all a desperate attempt to clean it out so we can keep talking. The thing is, I don’t have any boogers in my nose, unless I can’t see them when I stare in the mirror. I can look and look some more in the mirror, believing from my nose (I think I can officially say it’s a liar) that there are boogers there. So I pretty much look like a cocaine snorter, always rubbing my nose. I’m not. I just have imaginary boogers in my nose that I can’t get out. If I would have known that every conversation I have would involve me violently rubbing my nose, I’m not sure I would have hung out with my little Andimal that dreaded night. So Andi, let me say, we’ll always have Paris, er… that time you gave me a cold and I began acting like I had a bad drug habbit.

What mission trips really are....

To all my loyal readers, thanks for hanging in there with the Dumples. It has been an interesting time back here in Boston. I’ve been doing a lot of hanging out with my girlfriend and some time doing stuff with my other friends too. You’ll have to cut me some slack, she’s leaving for three weeks and we all know what mission trips really are… find your future spouse! At least, that’s what one of my favorite professors at school calls them. So I have to remember how cool she was before she goes and dumps the Dumple for some dude she falls in love with on the trip. I’ll miss my Andimal.

Things are good here. I’m working again, which means soon I’ll have money to get my eyes checked and my teeth cleaned. Woo hoo! I know you’re happy too. You know I thought I was the only one who hadn’t seen the dentist in a while, until I talked to one of my friends tonight who informed me that he hasn’t been to the dentist in like four or five years! Gross! I’m glad you’re married dude, she should keep you in line.

For all the readers who keep asking if the ex-girlfriend I ran into during my brother’s graduation is Leanne, the answer is no. You need to find a hobby or something. I don’t avoid her, and now I don’t think I’ll avoid any of the ex’s. It’s just too interesting to find out what happened to them.

At this point some of you are saying, “Man, does this guy have a lame post or what!?!?” All I can say is… Alright, so I remembered this story when I was talking with Andi. I was in junior high, in gym class and I had a bad cold. So I started coughing and hacked up this major loogy. I couldn’t exactly spit it out because the teacher was lecturing. So I did what any self-respecting junior high guy did, I swallowed the sucker. Or at least, I tried to swallow it. It got stuck. It was huge! So there I am choking on a snott ball I coughed up, when the teacher sees me choking. She grabs me out of the audience and starts performing the Hymleck maneuver on me. Everyone is stunned. I remember watching their faces, I mean what else are you going to do when someone’s punching you in the stomach? The problem was that I wasn’t REALLY choking on it. At least I didn’t think so. So I tell her, “I’m not choking!” which obviously you can’t do when you’re choking. But it was hard to get out when she kept knocking the wind out of me. After it was over, she pulled me aside and told me I was lucky, when she did it on her grandpa he broke some ribs. It was one of the most awkward times I can ever remember.

So that’s the story for now. Thanks for checking in. Until next week, this is the Dumple saying, “RAAAAAAAAAAH!!!”

events!

The move back to Boston has proved to be quite the adventure. Compared to the daily routine of life, the past three days has been a whirlwind. I was part of my friend, Matt’s wedding and many adventures sprung from that, including:
-getting yelled at at the Jolly Pirate in Waverly
-getting a ticket on the way to Kentucky (Scott did, not me)
-a wrestling match with Matt that went three rounds
-having my shorts thrown on the highway
-dancing with my girlfriend, Andrea, for the first time
-switching hotel rooms because stuff was broken

Then when I got home from the wedding on Sunday, I had approximately 3 minutes before I hopped in my car and drove to Portland for my brother’s graduation, which created weird scenarios including:
-seeing a girl who’s wedding I skipped on because I didn’t want to see another girl
-seeing the girl who I skipped the wedding for
-finding out that that girl is engaged to a much older man
-watching my brother graduate
-eating dinner with my mom and dad, together (first time since the divorce, 15 years ago)
-seeing my mom upset again

Exhausted, I returned home and early Monday, I helped my sister move out of her place, which led to:
-moving her stuff to my place
-moving her stuff to my dad’s place in Portland
-going to a cookout with Andi’s friends and my sister
-hanging out with my homeless sister for a while, until she had a home again
-swinging with Andi at the park
-talking with Andi

Oh, in addition to all that, for the days leading up to the chaos, I was preparing my talk for Crusade, which went well I think, almost immediately upon returning home from an Emmaus walk, which was on the heals of moving out of my place in Kentucky. I haven’t slept 8 hours straight in a long time, but I’m not complaining, it’s been good stuff. Maybe tonight. I think I’m going to go read a book and relax.

will post on monday

hey. it's been crazy busy. i'm writing a talk for Cru tomorrow night, and getting ready to head to Matt's wedding. i'll post lata.

Exam Week in Wilmore

I thought I would drop in and leave a quick post. I'm in mid-week of exams here. By God's grace I'll be able to drive back safely on Thursday to Portland. I'm diggin' the beats of Anberlin while I prepare my last paper in Spiritual Warfare. Tomorrow I'll take my Greek exam. Wew, let me just say, it's been quite a trip learning Greek. Her birthday is coming up soon, any ideas on what I should get her? (Grins) If something really weird happens in the next couple days, I'll throw it down. For all you in Dayton, I'll be up Monday. Hopefully I'll be workin' Tuesday. Peace out my homies.

fish

Andi, Scott, Matt, Tamara and Nick thought I needed fish. Since having them, I've decided some things, Let me share:

1. Being lazy makes fish sick
The rest of these will expanding on 1 (maybe)
2. Being lazy means I try to pour in just the right amount of fish food
3. As I dump in mass quantities of fish food, I end up creating more work for myself
4. The fish and I end up fighting over who's going to do the clean up job on the excess food
5. Jose and Fred like to eat so much they have to puke to eat more
6. Watching them puke their dinner, makes me laugh
7. When they puke the water gets dirtier
8. Stinkin' fish water stinks
9. Stinkin' fish water has to be changed a lot
10. Stinkin' friends bought me stinkin' fish, which is stinkin' funny
11. Although they've both eaten so much that they are puking, they fight over the scraps that they haven't tried to shovel down
12. Fish pukin' reminds me of Campo, McClure, Lenardz drinkin' milk at Horstman's party
13. These fish act like I don't feed them three times a day, pigs.
14. Fish have boring lives
15. When fish try to eat the plastic plant, I wonder if they are getting high off the air pump
16. How in the stinkin' world does the water get dirty in three days! Three!
17. I don't think I'll have to buy sucker fish

Emotions?

A common misperception among us as Christians is that feelings don’t matter. There is an old adage that goes, “Facts, Faith, Feelings” where “Feelings” are optional. This does apply to the truth of the Gospel. It applies to science as well, it doesn’t really matter how much I want to believe that gravity doesn’t exist, or how I feel about it, it’s still here.

However, somehow at times I am guilty of taking this to another level. I come to be callous to my feelings. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes feelings get all mixed up like my Etch-a-sketch, but if I’m feeling sad or distant from people, it’s a warning sign that something could be wrong. At times I am guilty of the self-mutilation for the sake of others. While it may sound noble, it’s highly destructive and in many cases not in keeping with God’s will.

Let me give an example, what if I decide that I need to help people, so I go running around downtown and rescuing people from fires, walking old ladies across streets and counseling people. However, in the process I decide I can do more work if I don’t eat lunch, or dinner. In fact, I decide I don’t need to eat at all, that way I can do more good. I would be doing good couple of hours but soon (I don't have a lot in the reserve tank), I’d be hurtin’ pretty bad. By neglecting my needs, I’d be able to do more “ministry” temporarily, but I’d be hurting my “ministry” in the long term. In fact, I would be much better off if I took time and ate healthy meals regularly, then I would be better equipped to help people more!

The same applies when we neglect our family, our basic needs like sleep, exercise, time with God and time for some relaxation. Further, our emotional health is very important. If you’re not listening to what your emotions are saying, you may be missing what God is telling you about yourself. It’s like driving your car down the highway looking for billboards that your gas tank is empty, when if you would just look at the dashboard (which a brilliant engineer put there for just such a purpose) you would know!

More lessons that I should have learned before I got to seminary! On that note, I’m starting a regular exercise schedule to help keep my body a fine-tuned God-directed ma-chine.

In other news, Andi came down for the weekend. We had a blast and I laughed my rear off. Girlfriends can be fun! And my sister Dawn made an apperance today. It was cool. Even if I do commit academic suicide. In the end, I'm glad I was able to hang out with two cool girls in one weekend.

beth and matt painting.

Wooden Jesus

So my girlfriend tells me that my blog is really boring and I never say anything good. Here’s something you’ll really like. I moved this big wooden Jesus across campus. He was really heavy. I wonder what God thinks about us carving wooden images of him? Does it bother him that most everyone on campus refers to it as ‘Jesus’ and people give him high fives, smack him on the butt and say stuff like, “Good game, Jesus” because honestly, to me, I would be ready to throw down the fireballs. Sure it’s a statue, but I’m still not sure why we need one and why everyone feels free to make fun of it, absolutely it’s not really God, but to act out scenes where God, who doesn’t react, is the joke… Somewhere I either missed the boat (it wouldn’t hurt that I’m an Engineer) or it just isn’t funny.

Calvin

One of my buddies at school is studying Calvin. It's interesting stuff, here's an email he just sent me. Note: I'm trying to seperate Calvin from the Calvinism that came after him, if there is a difference.


Thought you might find this interesting. I was reading in the institutes were it spoke of God's attributes pre-existing before creation. So parts of the Institute seem to point for election coming out of God's foreknowledge. BUT I found where Calvin says the exact oposite out of his commentary on Malachi.
"As we have said, there is no real difference among men, except in their hidden election. Some theologians would make foreknowledge the mother of election, and that very foolishly and childishly. They say that some men are chosen and others rejected by God, because God, from whom nothing is hidden, foresees of what sort each man will be. But I ask, Whence comes virtue to one and vice to the other? If they say, " From free will," surely creation was before free will. This is one point. Besides, we know that all men were created alike in the person of Adam. . . . And what does this mean except that the condition of all who come from the one root is the same?"
Anyhow obviously this seems to be counter to what I said last night. I don't know man. Calvin is confusing. He says one thing then goes right around and says the exact opposite. Then again he did change alot. Each edition of the institutes is vastly different from the previous. Heck he was branded twice with 2 version of the institutes got him the label as an Arian. Go figure. But hey he does take the subordination view of the trinity. I am going to keep working this thing out. But honestly man Calvin is so flip floppy it is so hard to tell where he stands. Especially since his theologies changes in almost everything he writes.
What seems to be the jist so far is that in Calvin, God may or may not have known whom he would elect but apparently he foreknew that he would preordain individuals at creation (the issue here is then is it at the moment of their birth or is it at the moment of actual creation).
Here are some quotes from Calvin that are interesting:
"We say, then, that Scripture clearly proves this much, that God by his eternal and immutable counsel determined once for all those whom it was his pleasure one day to admit to salvation, and those whom, on the other hand, it was his pleasure to doom to destruction. We maintain that this counsel, as regards the elect, is founded on his free mercy, without any respect to human worth, while those whom he dooms to destruction are excluded from access to life by a just and blameless, but at the same time incomprehensible judgment." (Institutes of Christian Religion, Book 3, Chapter 21, Section 7)
"distinguishes among men according as he foresees what the merits of each will be"(Inst. III, 22, 1)
"by thus covering election with a veil of foreknowledge, they not only obscure it but feign that it has its origin elsewhere"(Inst. III, 22, 1).

Membership

Woo hoo! Membership!

Back in November, I started the process to become a member of my church after visiting the other seminary I highly respect, Beeson Divinity School. They convicted me that if I was so excited about my church, I should stop hesitating and start the process to become a member. So I did. Early in January I was invited to my pastor's house. I turned in my application, and then later was interviewed. This past Sunday they officially welcomed me into the church as a member! I'm amped.

Women in Ministry: A Quest

Well, after almost a full six months, I'm back at it again. I'm going to study the Egalitarian and Complementarian views. Gross. Obviously I have an opinion, we all do, but I'm going to look at the differing sides again. It's a hard thing to be objective about, but I do want to listen carefully and understand both sides. It seems to merit a lot of my time, but that's ok, we are talking about one of the most heated debates among Christians today. Besides, if I'm wrong, I'm hurting a lot of my sisters and quenching the Spirit of God, simultaneously!

Thankfully, I have a much better grip on the Greek now, and have encountered enough non-objective professors, in person! I desire to listen well to what God is saying to me, I hope I do it well. I ask for your prayers.

a collector

I am a collector. I’ve been one since I was little. I’ve collected everything under the sun from baseball cards to old shoes, from awards to old batteries. As I get older, I am realizing the things I collected don’t satisfy. These ‘things’ that I have held onto are mere objects, zapped of their magic I’ve tried to capture. Some symbolize my childhood. They make me think of times gone past… so bittersweet.

I must confess, I’ve been thinking a lot about death lately, mostly, because I’m being reminded of it through some events God has orchestrated. It’s awe inspiring to think of dying, to realize I’m going to die. To, for a moment grasp the significance of life. It causes me to realize the value of ‘things’, objects, to contemplate their worthless. It makes me realize how useless most knowledge is. Even relationships come into full view.

I am realizing that I am a relationship collector. All this time, I thought I was finally free of my addiction to collecting. Don’t misunderstand me. I love relationships. People are so interesting when you start to know them. To catch a glimpse of what the Creator made, is awe inspiring.

I think the problem with collecting, besides the mismanagement of resources, is that the collector collects with the intention of enjoying, but finds themselves rather addicted to hording instead of the enjoying. There is greed that seeps in and it drains the enjoying out, replacing it with a sludge that we drink deeply, without remorse. And then, when it sits in our bellies we ache, and ache.

I’m tried of collecting. I wish I could tell you that I won’t be collecting anymore, that I will be enjoying what I have instead. I am asking God to help me remember my priorities. If I enjoy God, that will be enough. My desire will be drown in a river of fresh water, water that will not be like the sludge I drink so daily. If I enjoy God, I will enjoy people. I will enjoy relationships. I will enjoy love. I will enjoy peace. I will enjoy patience. I will enjoy joy! I will enjoy kindness! I will enjoy faithfulness! I will enjoy gentleness! I will enjoy self-control.

Oh God, help me to live in you, to enjoy what my soul has always desired.

retirement

I retired my secret blog, bringing over two posts I enjoyed and leaving the rest lost in cyberspace. I'm going to change up the content a bit, it will probably slide over to more church related issues in general and continue stupid stories I remember about life on occasion.

salt?

Are we as American Christians being the salt we’re called to be? It’s a hard question to answer, I know. Every time I return to the suburbs where my family lives I find myself facing the reality of middle-class Christianity. Should every family be on ‘the mission field’ and what defines what a ‘mission field’ is? What level of income is necessary for us to live at? What do we ‘need’ and what constitutes wants? Is this is different from person to person, based on what God requires of us or should we all be living less comfortably than we live? Do I need a new computer? Do I need a nice guitar, a tv, video games, a large house? What is a large house? Do I need the latest fashions? Should I support missionaries whose work is here in America, or should I use the money to feed people in other countries, or should I support missionaries overseas? Should I support American missionaries overseas or should I support natives who need support? Does God want me to give to Para church organizations or to work through my church despite its deficiencies in hopes that if everyone gave to their church, the church would reform how it uses its money? Should I consider car-pooling when I travel? What about buying products at Wal-Mart that have been made by child-labor even if it means that I have less money to give to Christian organizations? Can we take vacations? What is a sufficient amount for churches to spend on their building, decoration, staff, location, advertising? Should we buy Christian music or should we share it freely? Should Christians make profit on books? Should more Christians go overseas and help in needy areas?

MKs

I talked with a MK (missionary's kid) and learned about his life at a missionary boarding school. He told me about his friends and how they turned out. It wasn't uplifting. They weren't really able to spend time with their parents in large quantities. His friends all at best were nominal Christians who are utterly disenfranchised with Christiandom. In reality they show no fruits of Christianity by their lifestyles, now. He prays for them. He’s struggling too. I do fear that many who come to seminary are struggling. I don’t mean having battles where we make war on our sin. I mean flat out questioning everything about being a Christian. I know we are quick to point fingers. These MKs came from across the denominational lines, from Baptist to Methodist. I know even the church I attend requires boarding school for their MKs, and probably a similar fate.What kind of witness is it to the world when our kids are being destroyed, when we tell others about Christ love and love on them, but keep our loved ones at a distance? It’s time for a change. I don’t have all the solutions but why do we always feel that we have to send Christians into a hard country as “Lone Rangers” as it were. Why not send communities of say ten families to a country and start a local schooling program? Invite the native children of the area to come too. It seems that for too long we’ve become sterilized. We’ve separated ministry with outsiders from our ministry to our families. It is quite ridiculous. I’m guessing a reason they don’t allow children to stay with their parents is due to security risks. Are we really counting the cost? I would rather raise a family in a persecuted area as a family then send my children away as though they are not mine. Then again I’m not a parent. I can’t help but see the negative consequences as real nonetheless.

a hot summer day

I’ve avoided blogging for a while, much to the chagrin of some of my readers. When you don’t remember anything good to write about, it’s just best not to post. Today I remembered a good story however, so it’s time to share.

It was a hot summer day, back in the mid-80s and I was riding my bike up and down the street. Many kids are allowed to ride their bike in the street, however, I was not one of them. I was chastened to the sidewalk, on which I was allowed to ride, as long as I could see my house and was on the same side of the street. I agree, my parents didn’t let me do anything cool, but I was the first child and that usually means you have to experience the extreme boundaries of parents and carve the path for the next kids. Anyway, so there I was riding up and down the street.

Now my street happened to be situated on a small hill. I would pump up it and then coast on the way down. Just to give you an idea of how pathetic we’re talking, I would ride to the far edge of my neighbor’s driveway turn around and coast to two houses down.

It was a hot, extremely hot day and I was burning up. I luckily was wearing my Cincinnati Reds ball cap (go Reds!) which was providing some shade for my head but not a whole lot. I began to get this killer headache. I found that if I would close my eyes, it would somewhat go away. Then I had the idea of a lifetime, I decided to ride down the hill with my eyes closed. I had peddled up the hill with my eyes closed for Pete’s sake! Down the hill I went, picking up speed, more and more as I continued down the street. Then I heard a, “BAM!” which was shortly followed by a weightless feeling as I for an instant began to float off by bike. Was I flying? Was I somehow magically transported to another time and place?!?!?! And then, my face came to rest on its final destination, the neighbor’s car. Now, I knew at this point that I had made a miscalculation. I had forgotten that the neighbor parked their yellow compact car slightly out past the sidewalk.

You can’t really cry when you have made a complete fool out of yourself and no one seems to be around, even if you are seven. I mean, what if someone heard you cry and then came out to see what happened, only to find that you’ve smashed yourself into a parked car?!?!?! I did what any self-respecting seven year old would do, I fled the scene, bike and all and decided I was done riding for the day.

kentucky roadkill, it comes in many flavors, but everyone prefers skunk!

I can't seem to see enough skunks on the side of the road on the way to church. Granted, it is about the only time I leave Wilmore when the light of day is shinning. I gotta say, you would expect to see a possum, or a deer or something, but all that I ever see are skunks and lots of them. I'm not sure if skunks are the only thing wild animals won't eat, and I use the term 'wild animals' loosely, you could include some of the wilder Kentucky folk animals, or even my friend Andi, although I don't think she'd touch roadkill with a ten foot pole much less take it off the side of the road and eat it. One thing I am sure of though, unlike my old home of Dayton, we don't have any squirrels around here. Then again, when I lived in Dayton, I only knew one guy who would dare eat them. I'm thinking that a good friday night adventure would be to drive around and collect roadkill into my buddies pickup and dump a big pile of them somewhere, or maybe that's just gross.

“Bring it” got brought it

I signed up to play the assassin game one or two weeks ago, I can’t remember which, time doesn’t seem to move linearly anymore, it’s more like some morphic oozing wormhole thing. Anyway, I signed up but instead of just writing my name, Ben Douglass, I had to be me, you know a little arrogant, a little spicy, so I put, Ben “Bring it” Douglass down. So from that point forward people who signed up on the sheet in the student center would walk by and say things like, “What’s up ‘Bring it’ Ben Douglass?” I would laugh and we would do the dumb college thing and slap five or hit the rock or something. Well the game commenced on Monday night at 6pm. I survived the night handily and was surviving the morning without much trouble.

Then I went to chapel. The speaker was probably the most untrained and painful to hear speaker I’ve heard in a long time. First, he liked to say things like, “You know” and “Right” more times than he actually filled his talk with meaningful words that make up real sentences. Second, instead of following a logical progression, he just rambled about whatever seemed to be on his mind. Third, he didn’t help us tie his personal experiences or someone’s experiences in depth to a small passage. In fact, he didn’t meditate on a passage of Scripture (a pet-peeve of mine). I’m not talking about reading a chapter, I mean I enjoy it when they really explain a few verses. Wait, I’m way off topic…. So he did have good content, he just didn’t know how to present it, I wish he would have asked someone for help. The content was good in a bad way. He shared with us about how where he works people are being mutilated by their government, how people are being used and destroyed, how vilely sinful the world really is. When you live in a great country like we do, and really it is great compared to the atrocities that are happening across this world, you tend to forget how bad life is elsewhere and how little Christians here are doing anything about it. So I’m walking out of chapel very sober. I forget about the dumb game. Inside I’m just mulling over the pain and the suffering and talking it over with my friend. I’m within five feet of the door I need to get in before I am safe in the game. I’m standing there waiting for the crowds to enter into the next building and then it happens.

Mark, my assassin comes out of the building, I’m not really paying attention to him, and shoots me. Instantly I’m transported back to Lexington, KY. Yeah, I’m playing some dumb game with a whole bunch of people in a peaceful area. It made me frustrated on many levels. I don’t know what I’m suppose to do to help as a guy who feels called to be here, now. My professor said something interesting in the class following lunch, he said, “The ministry of Jesus Christ is directed primarily to the Father, not to the needs of the world.” Very profound. I know God is concerned about his creation, his people, his loved ones. However, our ministry is to be directed primarily to the Father. He’ll point us where we need to go.

I totally missed the point I was going for. Here it is: I got shot. The real first day of the game. Like a sucka, I was taken out. I think it was because I wrote Ben “Bring it” Douglass instead of Ben Douglass. God wins again! One of these days, I'm not going to talk trash. I'll probably be dead... but it'll happen. I said "Bring it", Oh how He brought it.

Assassin

I don’t know if ya’ll have heard of this one, but someone here at seminary obviously had. What you do is grab a whole bunch of your friends, and maybe even a few you don’t know too well, and write down everyone’s name. You make these into cards, and then shuffle them up. Everyone has a mini-squirt gun and will be given a hit list. Over the course of a few days you are to “assassinate” the people on your list. When you make your hit (squirt them with the water gun) then you get their assassination list. Whoever has the most at the end of the set time period, or gets them all, wins.

Our game will start next week. I’ll keep you posted…. It was worth a mid-week update.

a coffee shop experience

Yesterday I went to a concert at the coffee shop on campus (Solomon’s Porch - ATS). When I say I went to the concert, it was more like my buddies and I went to get some coffee and read, when a concert broke out. I don’t know what it is about coffee shops but many times when there’s a white guy with a guitar there solo you can bet he’ll be singing out of key, and this guy was no exception. I think maybe the microphone projects your guitar/voice so loud that somehow they’re just not able to hear themselves. He sang some interesting songs, such as ones by Guns’n’Roses, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Billy Joel, Jimmy Buffet, and a Christmas song about shooting his puppy with rabies in the head. I tried not to listen to all of his terrible (out of key) songs, but sometimes when you know them, you can’t help but pay attention half-heartedly. The song about his puppy with rabies was especially gripping. No matter how much I told myself to read Os Guinness, I found myself listening to the sad song about how he blew his puppies brains out on Christmas. It was pretty much the worst (however, unfortunately funny) song I’ve ever heard someone sing. It was quite obvious that he was a college student. Sorry college students, but you’re immature, and that’s coming from one of the most immature (at times) seminary student east of the Mississippi. Thankfully it will be his last appearance in Wilmore, although he said while at the microphone that he’s done 9 shows, in Michigan, Indiana and here in Kentucky. He does deserve some props for being courageous enough to play 9 shows! The crowd disappeared somewhere soon after the puppy song. I wish I could have taped it. It was the funniest, worst song I’ve heard, bar-none.

takin’ communion

Last Tuesday down here at school they took communion at the chapel. I’ve taken communion many times, so this should be a short story. They broke the bread and talked about the meaning of each of the items. Then they said and I quote, “When you’re ready to receive the communion come forward.” I had spent some time praying before chapel, and I knew I was ready to receive it, so I hopped out of the pew and headed down. Not until I was standing in line did I realize that they were dismissing people by rows. I was sitting in the last row to be dismissed, so when I came forward I had to face everyone who was still waiting to be dismissed to take it. I felt like a genius. This is what happens when you stick a non-Methodist in a Methodist communion service, I mess it all up!

appointment

I had a divine appointment today. The kind you remember far into the future. When working at Orientation, they passed out cards and we were given people to pray for. I prayed for my dude, and then felt compelled to continue praying for him. The next day he arrived and I heard him say his name to a person at the table next to me. I was busy at the time, but I recognized it instantly and then when I was free, I introduced myself. I ran into him multiple times from then till today. Tonight while at the Superbowl party, I felt restless, so I left it and went back to the dorms. Yeah, I know, I took a lot of crap for leaving. When I arrived back at the dorms, I felt like I was to go find him and invite him to the party. I went up to his floor, and found his room without any trouble. I didn’t knock on his door or anything, I just waited. I know it is weird, but I knew he would come out. Sure enough, he came out of his room and I invited him to come to the party. He agreed to come without persuasion. As we were walking over to the party I find out his background a bit. He’s a Baptist, a rarity on a Wesleyan campus. He felt guided by the Holy Spirit to come to ATS. We talked a bit more; it was good to hear where he was coming from. After we arrived, he met up with some guys and I knew I could take off, so I did.

I know it’s a pretty weird story. I guess why I share it is because it was one of those times when you just know what you’re suppose to do. I can’t really explain it any other way. I love ‘em and had to share this latest one. If you’re not convinced, I don’t blame you. You had to be me in the moment to understand probably.

republicans

if the republicans here keep ranting, i may end up a democrat. people here don't get up until 10:30! sick. going to study greek tonight. the fish are doing ok, one died, it was little timmy. i think he choked on the water. hope ya'll are doing well.

leaving dayton

I write this entry on the night before I leave Dayton. Eerily I recall earlier a conversation from earlier today. A friend said to me, “We won’t miss you, but you might miss us.” I haven’t even started packing and yet I’m sad. They say that home is where your heart is. If that’s the case, I can understand why it saddens me so to leave. When you have to move your home, in a weird way you have to move your heart too. We thrive on change, we love new things. Yet, part of us loves the beauty of the way things are. It reminds me of being a kid. I wanted to be just like dad, I had a little plastic lawn mower that shot out bubbles. I would push it all around the yard trying desperately hard to be like him. Still, I enjoyed being a kid and playing in the sandbox for hours, painting with my fingers and playing with our puppy in the backyard. I’ve been saying goodbye to my friends here in Dayton over the course of the weekend. In some of the relationships here, I find that we’ve moved apart. Time has worn the commonalities that held us so close together into a fine thread that now seems stretched. In other relationships, the first pages of our adventures as friends are starting, as a good book that you’ve just finished the intro to. Still, in other relationships it is as though nothing changed at all. Amazingly in these relationships it is as though we’ve never aged.

So I sit at the dinning table and remember the past weeks, the anticipations, the fears, the joys, laughter, sorrows and silences. It is sad in general. I’m going to miss the people I work with, the people I play with, the roommate I fart with. The people I share life with. Then I think about the future at hand. Life doesn’t end at death. For some, their rejection of God will be bitterly more sorrowful than anything experienced on earth. For others, their acceptance of God will bring the abundance even more fully than experienced here. I am trying to cherish the relationships and opportunities I do have here. To savor the life that God has given us. He never asked us to numb ourselves, only to sacrifice that which would take our joy from us. The price has seemed too high for many. They walk away clinging to their rusting skates, buying into the lie, unwilling to trust the only one who can save them from themselves. I too want to cling to my rusty skates, but I know I can’t. I press forward, enjoying that which I was blessed to receive while here. I press forward, knowing full well that loving God must always stay my true wellspring of life. I press forward, finding more of God’s blessing lying ahead. Maybe even my old skates. Maybe even in better condition. Or maybe God will do something completely different. Whatever He should chose, my life is His to use.

Braces

well, i don't have much. honestly, i'm losing the blogging bug. i'm sorry. my latest inspiration is andi's braces....

What rocks my face off about braces:

1) Braces come with a special storage feature that allows you to eat food and store them there in your braces to “eat” later! Mmmmmm… leftovers….

2) Braces increase bad breath which aids in repelling robbers and weird stalkers.

3) 28 rubber bands. Do I need to say anymore?

4) Rap artists each have a few pieces of metal in their mouth. When you put on the braces you’re like your own rap group!

5) Chewing gum becomes an art.

6) If you threaten to bite someone, they are more likely to be intimidated.

7) It is rumored that you can pick up radio stations if you turn just right.

8) You get to carry around thousands of dollars and don’t have to worry about anyone stealing it!

9) Spiting food at friends is fun! Who doesn’t love spitting pizza all over your buddy? Braces let you get away with it.

10) Your mom and dad will love you more.

A Happy New Year

It was New Year Eve of 1994. My family and I had returned from our trip to Grandma & Grandpa’s in Medina, Ohio. Grandma had insisted that we returned home with some of her soon to be world famous cookies. We told her that she didn’t have to send an entire tin of cookies home with us, but secretly we hoped she wouldn’t take us up on it. Back home in Cincinnati, we all were in the habit of eating some of Grandma’s cookies “unannounced”, also known as sneaking cookies. See, we are greedy little Gollum-like beings when it comes to her cookies. Yes, my precious. We won’t share you with the little hobbits. All mine. HmmHmm!

Anyway, we were in business of sneaking them to make sure we ate more than our fair share of the cookies. I was being a master of disguise, I mean even Mirage from G.I. Joe wouldn’t know I was hitting the cookies. I was good. Now New Year’s Eve was near the time of our return from Grandma’s so the tin started almost full. I would sneak two or three at a time, making frequent stops into the kitchen. By around 8pm or so, I was hitting the bottom of the tin. I finished them off with great precision, once again proving to all people that not only could I be a master of disguise and greedier than the little hobbits, but I could also pack’em away.

I started getting hot. I mean really hot. Maybe it was the sugar rush. Maybe it was the sour cream in one of the varieties of cookie balls. Maybe it was the guilt when I got caught eating the last cookie. Maybe I simply ate too much. Whatever it was, I was not feeling very well. I remember sitting on the couch and feeling oh so sick. Then it hit me. I got up and made a B-line for the bathroom. I was moving at a pretty good clip, I was only one turn away from facing the toilet and then it happened. A cookie extravaganza! I mean all your favorite colors and favors made a second appearance. We had reds, greens and browns as well as raspberry, sugar sprinkles, peppermint and chocolate! Wow! If only I had the tin nearby. I did one better though, I missed the toilet and painted wall with a blend of spices that would make anyone’s stomach turn. As the little hobbits, my siblings will tell you, indeed it took the paint off the wall.

Every Christmas I have to hear about this story. It’s like one of my family’s great traditions.

A smooth move

I went swing dancing last night (don't ever call it swinging, I was warned at work today that was something different). I realized my feet don't know what swing dancing is. They were completely confused. I think my right foot kept thinking we were going to do some kind of ballroom dancing, ok it was more like concreted to the floor and my hands kept thinking we were going to either do the robot or do some funky rapper moves. I wore my red shoes, the ladies seemed to like them. They told me so. I met some cool people, ok so they were girls, all except Josh and some dude who wanted to talk about nothing and was able to waste a good 15 minutes I was going to use dancing with the girls... The ladies were very gracious and put up with my terrible ability to swing dance. I do mean terrible. But, I have been practicing. That's where the smooth move comes in. See I was practicing my moves at work in the hallway. I had just done some ‘push the girl’ move and then pulled the door open (imagining that I was actually pulling the girl's hand back towards me). Well, on the other side of the door there was this guy reading a magazine in a chair. I could tell I startled him and I think he thought for a split second he saw me dancing. That is until I pulled a smooth move. I did some kind of John Travolta walk immediately and walked away quickly. So instead of looking like a complete idiot, I looked like a moron trying to walk goofy. But, now you know I was being an idiot and that’s probably better somehow.

Today I also gave my presentation that I've been working on for months now... I was all set to head out to work, the car was all loaded up when I realized I didn't have my badges. I checked my coat (that I was wearing), my car, my room, the kitchen, the living room, the dinning room, and then I got desperate so I checked the garbage, the bathroom, the refrigerator (who knows where I could have put them down), Matt’s pickup, my room again, the kitchen again, the living room again my coat four more times, the spare bedroom, I called work and asked Adam and then Eric if they had seen them (of course not) and then I realized I was in big trouble. Yeah, big trouble. God came through, I moved Matt’s coat on one of the chairs to reveal anther coat that looked just like mine… Huh, wait… It was mine! I was wearing Matt’s coat! That’s why the badges weren’t in the pocket where I left them. I hopped in my car and went to work. I also had to add a slide to my presentation when I got there. I finished adding the slide and then the client walked in for the presentation to start. Now that’s what I call God providing. And yes, I was flipping out in a calm way.

Oh, here is a picture of my shoes, by request for all the ladies out there. Peace.


dead sexy.

Nashville

Howdy ya'll from Nashville, TN. Brown got this pimped out business trip and took Nye and myself down. We're staying in a sweet hotel that has a seperate room with couches, a desk and tv and then of course the bedroom with two twins and the couch folds out to a bed.

Brown had to work today so he gave us the car. I was backing the Blazer in the parking garage when I heard this crunch. I looked in the rear view mirror and saw the back end in a concrete pillar. I parked it and saw a big dent in the bumper. I was buggin out. You know it's not everyday that you beat your buddy's car up.

We (Nick and I) had planned on washing his car and cleaning it up to serve Brown. Then after I knocked his bumper out of wack, all the good we had planned to do for Brown now looked like we were laying it on thick. Brown's car was gross. He had everything from rotting crap on a butterknife to pink scrunchies thrown all over his car. And just for the record, McDonald's french fries don't rot. After we vaccummed it and washed it, we went to the mall. This is going to sound lame, but we got a great deal on some pimped out shoes at the mall and we picked up Brown a pair too, so we all had pimped out shoes.... Yeah, now it really sounds like I was trying to lay it on thick. But I wasn't.... Honest.

We picked up Brown from work when he was done. He shrugged it off when I told him. Obviously, I thought it was odd. Real odd, but I was thankful and was glad to let it go. REAL GLAD. He let me simmer for a while then told me that the dent was already in the bumper. The freakin' dent was already there! Already there! Unbelievable! Now it looks like I was trying to suck up. There's no way to make this look good. Props to Brown, you're a punk.

It's cold outside...

It’s so cold outside penguins are asking if they can stay in the garage. It’s so cold outside Canadian geese have gone south. It’s so cold outside ice cubes are wear sweaters. I mean it is cold.

I have to thank my Bengals for their athleticism this past weekend. Normally they look like they have a chance of winning so I watch at least part of the game. This past weekend however, they lost straight out of the box, proving that we’re the second worst team in the NFL, only outdone by the Browns, and they’re going to have a new coach next year.

I’m sure all the guys out there are still looking to complete their shopping for the holidays. Women tell me it’s because we procrastinate so much. I have a different theory. Men hate shopping. We hate it so much we’ll do just about anything to not do it. By anything, I mean we’ll do anything that’s more entertaining, such as watching tv, playing video games (another form of watching tv), working on our computers (another form of watching something tv like), watching movies (watching tv), and sleeping (yet another form of watching tv). Don’t get me wrong, I think everyone should do things besides watching tv, but in general that’s what most middle class Americans seem to do with their free time. Even I myself on break find that I’m drawn to the picture box. I think it’s a scary thing when people spend so much time looking at a box. What will we think when we’re about to die? Will we be glad that we watched so much? Will we feel that we had no choice in the matter? I understand, sometimes I feel trapped and doomed to watch it somehow. I think in part I’ve become Pavlov’s dog. I think of relaxing and almost immediately watching tv comes to mind. It’s weird but too true for me. Woah, that’s a rant…. anyway, Guys, remember Walgreens is just down the street and if you hurry now it’s probably not busy, but don’t wait until Friday, because then even Kmart will be packed. And remember, we’re forgetting the real meaning of Christmas.

Opera Spirituals?

It's Christmas time again. We all know what that means, lights, Santa and Christmas music. There's good Christmas music and there's bad Christmas music. I happened to come across the later although done well in what they were attempting to do, but it should have never been done. A skinny white guy with long hair and a clump of scraggly hair glued to his chin sang opera. That by itself is odd enough, but to top it off he was singing spirituals like, “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” but more about how life is hard and the Savior is born. The whole time I wondered why. Were they going for lyrical genius or were they trying to contemporize the song or to bring it to their standard or what? In the end, I decided I’d just fall asleep in the hard pews and wait this one out and hope the next Christmas song would be Handel's Messiah.

In other news, I’m heading to Dayton for the next six weeks to try and scrape a few pennies together to pay for the next session of school. God is faithful.

And lastly in a protest to the school’s horrible furniture in our specific wing of the dorms (and in the other wings for that matter), we switched our dumpy 1970s junk out with the good furniture (complete with lower back support) they’re trying to show off at the entrance to our building. They’ve asked us to move it back around twice, so we did, partly (I'm going to be difficult at least for a while). Sometimes schools don’t make sense. Why put the best furniture where people don’t sit and the bad stuff where you do? I guess it’s good they’ve got an engineer in the wings now (gotta love us punky first year students).

Tres Osas Menor

Time for an experiment in procrastination. Here's what we're going to do, we're going to make a story that spans multiple blogs. I'm going to start a story and pass it off to Andi-mal (without her approval) and see where it goes...

A long time ago, in a galaxy far far away there were three little bears: Arlo, Blade, Mace and the General. Ok, so it was really four little bears, but we're going to call it three little bears because four little bears just isn't catchy. The three little bears were a crack commando unit was sent to prison by a military court for a crime they didn't commit. These bears promptly escaped from a maximum security stockade to the Los Bearas underground. Still wanted by the government, they survive as soldiers of fortune. If a someone has a problem, if no one else can help, and if they can find them, maybe they can hire the B-Team.

Arlo was standing in line at Circle-K buying Jiffy Pop, when the General got the call over the walkie talkie. A young woman was crying. The problem seemed to be epic in proportion, beyond the reaches of the law, it would take the these soliders of fortune to bring resolution. They set up a meeting, 10:30 pm on Tuesday at the Sonic Burger to discuss the details. At 10:35pm they circled Sonic for the last time, checking for goverment agents. They pulled in and met they their woman, Leslie was her name. She thanked them and began..... (click here to continue)

Glorious onion rings.

The onion rings did me in I think. The glorious onion rings brought the war to its demise. Don’t ever think that being kind to your enemies doesn’t have an effect. I avoided José (the cafeteria chef) like the plague in recent days, getting my plates of food, in all their glorious trips, from the other food line. Tuesday I was working on a big paper for my NT class, and the clock on the computer was off by an hour, unknown to me at the time. So I went to the café for lunch and it was all gone. I was too late. Everything had been shut down. I stood there in complete shock. José came up to me and told me he would go get me food from the back. He returned with two brats on a plate covered with onion rings. I ate my rings knowing that it was sad. Our feud was over. It’s weird, I’m not even as hungry as normal, I’m down to two plates of food and a hearty desert. For now. Much like Tom & Jerry can’t stop fighting, I’m sure my appetite will come back and war will begin again. (grins) I will eat all the food! Get in my belly!

arch nemesis

Every superhero has an arch nemesis in their universe. Since my super power is eating more than any human should possibly be able to and still staying skinny, old school style, my nemesis is our cafeteria chef, Jose. Jose like all good chefs worth their weight is a larger man who knows he can cook. He also regulates the consumption of food in our fine dinning facility.

At an ‘all you can eat’ buffet such as Golden Corral, you pay a hefty price to eat until your stomach explodes. At our cafeteria it is a more reasonable four bucks. They are banking on people not eating more than one plate to make a profit. This is where I come in. I eat on average somewhere over two plates of food per meal. When Jose sees me he gives me the worst food he can muster up to present. For instance the most burnt burger in the pan or the burnt tops of the meatloaf that’s floating around. He gives me smaller portions than others on average, which is fine; it helps me get to that third and possibly fourth plate. It’s actually a pleasure to be known in this way. I know he cringes when I go up. Don’t worry Jose. I’ll be back. Monday.

presupposition

Presupposition is the word of the semester. Every class I sit in, every discussion I have with others seems to find itself wrestling with the presuppositions the author or we have towards something. We use it to critique everything from Bultmann to the Pauline epistles. From these presuppositions a new understanding of someone’s stance emerges. For example Bultmann was fighting to make Christianity relevant to his world (deeply set in liberal ideologies) but made some bad presuppositions which kept him from understanding the Bible wholly. (Sidenote: Did anyone else notice that this election was reported to be won by the “evangelicals” in the media? Take note of them singling out “evangelicals” from Christians.)

Let me continue to explain a presupposition that rocks my face off (that’s for you Matt). It was pointed out to me by Dr. Gordon Fee (who wants you to call him Gordon) of Regent College when he was here last week. Paul, John and the author of Hebrews all presuppose that Jesus was present at the creation of the world as God. None of them felt the need to argue that he was present before the incarnational birth! This is amazing to me as the modern 21st century Christian skeptic. Think about all the things that are meticulously explained throughout the NT and then understanding this presupposition in that light gives us a radical slant. It was obvious to them (authors) to such an extent they didn’t feel the need to explain it. They just presupposed it.

I’m about to presuppose me some dinner, you know what I’m sayin’?

the Great Divorce

wow. great book. just finished. highest recommendation.

Buttermilk

I ran out of milk yesterday. I walked down to the store (yes, you actually walk to the store here) and much to my dismay there was only two options left, 1% buttermilk and Vitamin D milk. Now the Vitamin D milk expires Nov 2nd and the buttermilk says it can hold out to Nov 11th. I decided I would figure out how buttery buttermilk was. I looked at the fat content, trans fats and the saturated fat to figure out if buttermilk was crazy high and would cause me to fall over dead after a bowl of cereal. Tangent: San Francisco is the only city you would find a campaign insane enough to think that they can actually ban trans fats (good idea though if it was possible). So after looking it over, buttermilk was actually healthier in all fat categories over Vitamin D milk. I picked the buttermilk, I mean who wants milk that expires in like three days? Well, I walked back home and poured my new buttermilk all over my cereal. Something odd happened. The milk didn’t really soak into the cereal. Early in the morning you really don’t think too much about these kinds of things, so I took a bite. Now I don’t know if you’ve ever put orange juice on your cereal before, but I have. Let me tell you Lucky Charms and OJ weren’t designed to be combined like that. The same can be said for buttermilk and cereal. Yes, I probably should have known better, but I never tried buttermilk, I figured it couldn’t be that bad. It was. It was that bad. I tried to water down the buttermilk so I could handle it. Buttermilk and water separate like water and oil, I don’t know, but I suspect that buttermilk has properties that make it more like oil than water. I guess that’s why it’s called buttermilk and why it was still on the shelf when all the EDIBLE milk had been picked clean. Yes, buttermilk and Elmer's glue are close relatives.

No words to describe

Just read this:
http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2004/143/21.0.html

the body

I have been reflecting on what I think God has been teaching me in the long term here. Besides the fact that I need to read more OT (it rocks my face off), I have been realizing the body (Christian community) more. I think it's pretty common in America to feel as though we really don't have very much responsibility if we're not a missionary, and indeed we do need more missionaries. I think the problem has stemmed in my mind from the hero mentality we have. Someone is always supposed to save the day. One person steps out alone to face the world. I think I’m realizing the need for a community of heroes.

I most certainly have come across people who I’ve been floored by. They usually have an incredible portion of brains, or they can sing well or everyone seems to be strangely drawn to their personality. These people I see being used in ministry in great ways and I wish for them to step up. On some secret level I think I’ve simply neglected the others from ministry, the ones who don’t have talent seeping out of their very being. I will call them…. normal.

By our very nature I think we elevate some as heroes and ignore the normals and sub-normals. I have been struck by what I believe is God’s deliberate method of not letting us do this very thing. A simple example, I don’t believe God will as readily answer our prayers, until we ask and get the body to pray and help each other. Our individualistic, selfish souls refuse to work together. I have come to the point where I want to pray for tons of people, to do whatever I can for them in love and realize my dependence on the community (God’s provision) for me. When this happens, I see him then act to answer prayers. Not that he won't other times or ways.

Just something that’s striking me.

Wendy's Remodeled

I went to Wendy's again today. It's been a while since I last was there, I think you all remember the ketchup that I ate off the lid. Anyway, I was surprised to see they've replaced their trash cans. They now resemble the Panera Bread cans with a hole above to drop your trash in and a tray holder above that to set your tray on. So, I don't think I'll have the same problem with them now... And yes, the playground still consists of a large orange cone and a few stumpy pieces of wood buried in the ground.

In other news, I'm officially looking at Beeson Divinity School for next year. Asbury is great, and I may stay, but part of me in really interested in diversity among faculty & students in the denominational realm as well as having incredibly small classes (12 students to 1 faculty ratio) and they only have 120 M. Div students! It reminds me of Regent in Canada. Sorry no funny posts yet… I’ll work on it.

Deep end of the Greek pool

Foreign Language may be the hardest thing you take in seminary. I'm the big doof who decided I really needed the comprehensive route. In less than 13 weeks I go from knowing a few Greek letters to being able to work my way through the New Testament pretty well. I can keep up now, but it requires me to cut back on my hours of work (earning income), hours of study in other classes and plays tricks with my mind. Then today a new piece of the puzzel came down the pipe, we have to learn two new chapters for next week's exam. Yeah, that's right, exam. I don't know how I'm going to make it through Greek and honestly right now I don't know if I can handle taking another semester of it come spring. I hardly have time to open books for my other classes if I want to be proficient enough at Greek to be able to keep up with the teacher. It reminds me of that scene in Goonies (a classic) when the guy is peddling a little girl's bike and some punk in a convertable grabs his hand and takes off. He was peddling so fast you thought his feet would catch on fire. Well, it's kind of like that. God is good though, on this I rest. I press forward knowing that somehow, and I do think it may take a miracle, I'll be able to keep up as we "start going faster" the second half of the semester by God's grace to me. Keep me in your prayers and Adam too, there's a reason they say "It's Greek to me!"

Happy Birthday

Happy Birthday Dawn! She turns the big 21 this weekend! You'll still always be three years my younger sister! Ha ha ha ha ha.

A painful call

I’m guessing by now you want the juicy details of what happened. Yeah, I did remove the last post. I decided I really didn’t think it salvageable no matter how hard I tried, much like the post before it. Yeah, I called the girl. It was completely awkward and neither she nor I was really excited about either the call I placed or her call back. No, nothing about long walks on the beach or anything straight out of Love Connection.

The phone conversations were painful to the end and when it was all said and done she invited me to come visit her church on the other side of Lexington, which I declined. She said she was coming to visit Clay (a guy in my dorm) yesterday, so I told to swing by and I’d say hey. I didn’t see her, I made an honest attempt but in the end I had to eat and go to class yesterday evening.

So we have never met before and I’m ok with it. Ok, actually I’m kind of glad we haven’t. I’m sure she’s a cool girl, but this is not the way to meet people you may want to date in the future. While I’m not opposed to hanging out with her in a group setting, you won’t see the Dumples on any hot dates anytime soon. I’ve made it clear to my friend’s wife that I won’t take numbers she may receive in the future. If she wants to bring a girl to hang out in a group that totally fine. Just let things happen natural. That's all I'm asking. Relationships don't come in test tubes.

Ale81

Ale 81, the soft drink of Kentucky has been growing on me steadily. Unforntuantly it seems I am continuing to get more tired as the school year progresses. I'm unsure if learning this intensily is making me tired or if I'm getting sick again or what, but I am becoming Rip-Van-Winkle.

In other news great deals of studying on the background of 1 Tim. has shown me that just about everyone has a different interpertation on what the culture of Ephesus should mean to us today. Thankfully, some seem like more of a stretch than others. I'm glad we have as much information as we do.

I'm working on, ok, I hope to shoot a video tour type thing soon so everyone back home can see what this place looks like.... Back to studying for me.

Here's an interesting article you may want to check out.

headstand

I did a headstand last night, holding onto a couch and a chair. I did however forget that I had my cell phone in my pocket... I was pretty impressed with how well I was able to balance myself upside down, and then my cell phone fell out of my pocket and hit the ground below... I lost my concentration and I rolled out of it. When my feet landed, I stepped right onto the screen of my cell phone, a genius of a move. The screen was flat busted....

I called BestBuy about it to get my phone replaced, and they told me because I stepped on the screen they wouldn't replace it. I wish the guy at the store would have told me that today when I was there instead of saying they would take care of it on the phone (which by the way was a call to India). I don't really want to drive back out to civilization tomorrow to get a new one... But God is good and stepping on your cell phones is bad. Remember that next time your thinking about doing a headstand off of your lounge furnature at 2 in the morning (it was a long Greek study session).

Church shopping

Anyone ever wonder why it's so hard to find a good church? Why is it that we search and search and search some more without results? I've been thinking a lot about it lately. I must say that I am thankful to be able to go to different churches right now and experience the various methods which people employ in the body of Christ.

I've noticed that at most, ok, all the churches I've been to, good worship will mean that I'll have a crummy sermon to follow it up with. In churches that are still acting like church worship was designed to be lived out in the 18th century, the messages are better. Why?

I can't help but believe that somewhere along the lines we've confused the definition of church (enter Dumples' history lesson). I'm guessing it was sometime around the 18th century. Ok, so I'm exaggerating, but not too much, I'm guessing the end of the 18th century. I say the 18th century, because it was at the end of the 1700's when Charles Wesley passed away and with him and his contemporaries went the concept of new music for the church. Enter "I just want to sing the classics" (not wrong, let's just think bigger).

When the music revolution was happening in America in the early 1900s, the mainline denominations didn't go with them, except for some smaller churches who realized the need for relevance to the people around them (judging from my weak knowledge of music history). Eventually in the 1990s non-denominational churches that were using contemporary music were really damaging a lot of the mainlines.

Most non-denominational churches that were/are using contemporary music were actually drawing people's attention who weren't Christians, as well (big shock, relevant music helps people connect? What? We shouldn't use an outdated KJV Bible?!?!). Yes, they use contemporary translations of the Bible too. You know, ones that you can understand, ones that are not translated into Middle English (Gee you mean people want to understand what's going on?). This is similar to the Great Awakining in the sense that they preached to the common people using common language. It is also similar to how the New Testament books were written in that they were written in the common man's language. I think they (non-denominational churches) saw the big need for all these people really seeking after God (that were pouring into their church by the buckets) to know how to become Christians and they changed their curriculum to help people get into a relationship with God. Complete with beginner sermons/preaching on Sundays, which you can find at most non-denominational churches today.

I think this is where all the problems really started to creep up. The thought pretty much went like this, “We’ll gear the Sunday sermon to seekers, and the old believers will be fed on Wednesday nights!” So contemporary churches were pumping out baby believers right and left (baby factories if you will) while the mainline churches were/are struggling with one person realzing the joy of being a Christian a year, but they seem to have an ok retention rate (70%?) of old crusty believers who rarely/never share their faith (which is sick, mind you. If you had the cure for cancer you would tell everyone).

And all is good and well (in the contemporary churches), until the babies grow up, or want to grow up. See, when you make Sundays for seekers/babies, the older Christians can’t very easily grow if you don’t provide meat for them. By meat, I mean present a challenging and edifying enviroment at church for older, more mature believers.

I think essentially we have created yet another division in the body (the holy universal church of Christ), but this one is highly more divisive than previous divisions. See, what we’ve done is made a split between the seekers/baby Christians and the old crusty Christians. The old crusty ones aren’t using their gifts in helping the babies and seekers grow (kind of like not having a mom and dad just a food dispensing machine), and the church for the seekers and babies isn’t conducive for oldies to be fed in (mom and dad don't want to eat Gerber anymore). Thus, the oldies are uncontent at many contemporary churches. Although they do seem to find churches where they can be fed, but these churches seem... boring. We all know the water has to flow in and out of a pond or it gets stagnant, as such so older Christians need to help babies and seekers. And babies/seekers of course go to “hip” churches where they are fed (yeah Gerber!) but will find stunted growth (boo!) and hopefully don’t fall away from the church later disillusioned (I pray they don't just give up, search around if this is you).

So what’s my solution? Make church relevant in worship to babies/seekers and pair them up with older believers who will be fed in the sermon. I don’t believe the pastors primary role is to bring people to Christ on Sunday, I believe the pastor’s job is to equip the body (everyone going to church) to bring people to Christ every day of the week (I mean we all work 8 hours a day, 5 days a week with people who become our friends, and don't you want your friends in on the best thing going?).

But that’s just me (or not). I just want to find a church around here where I can be fed, enjoy relevant worship, and possibly do ministry. Keep my church search in your prayers. Thanks.

Wireless

I have been without wireless internet in my dorm for probably about three weeks. I thought at first that it was such a burden. I didn't know if I would ever make it without internet... Granted I didn't have it when I stayed at my buddy's place for a couple weeks prior to coming to Kentucky... Now that I've been forced to not have it for so long, it helped me break some bad habits. Let's see if any of these ring a bell with you:

1.) Always checking my email. We're talking every half hour or something when I'm by my computer.

2.) Talking on AIM. It's pretty pointless in most cases, but it sure burns the time I don't have quickly.

3.) Surfing the internet for who-knows-what. I'll start looking for something like the correct spelling of Guatemala and end up on some Pastor's high cheese website that they obviously made back at the inception of the internet.

4.) Downloading software that I really don't need but think is cool for like 5 minutes and then uninstall.

5.) Downloading virus and spyware updates to get rid of the lastest crap that is on my computer because I downloaded software that really wasn't cool... Wasn't cool like I got spyware on my computer written by some 15 year-old pimple faced geek who couldn't get a girlfriend if he met her in a chatroom on AOL! (Snap! You burned!)

6.) Emailing everyone back who wrote me to see if I'm still doing ok in Kentucky.

7.) Writing blogs for the loyal viewers who come here every week.

8.) Watching the almost funny Strongbad Email of the week. Over and over. Imitating his voice while I write my little emails. Chucka-Chucka-Email!

Yep, so I realized I waste most of my time on the internet and I really only need to write back my buds. And yes, you can get colds in Kentucky while wearing shorts and a tee-shirt. I guess fall is already on its way....

Kentucky Driveways

I neglect the fact that I've already adapted to my new setting. I was visiting my buddy Adam at his house when I saw the neighbor pull in their driveway. Now, most of us understand/believe that the concrete driveway that leads to the garage is for parking your cars on. When I say I saw the neighbor pull into their driveway let me explain why this struck me as odd. They were driving down the road and proceeded to pull into their yard and park their car sideways in the grass. At no point did their car touch what we consider the driveway (made of concrete). Instead, it is common fact here that your grass/yard is in-fact one big driveway. Driveways (concrete) are avoided although everyone (including this neighbor) has one. Why do they park in the grass? One of three reasons occur to me:

1. Driveways are sacred and should be treated as holy. Thus, the emphasis of not wearing shoes down here and no driving on driveways.

2. Yards are great places to display your rusted out 1983 Dodge stationwagon. Everyone in the neighborhood will be impressed with your item of status.

3. Everyone is so constantly in a state of drunkenness, thus, finding the driveway is too hard and yards function as driveways. Those that aren't drunk don't want to be thought a 'Yankee' and under the peer pressure pull into the yard instead.

If you have any ideas why this might be let me know.

Need more pictures!

I have 10 minutes, so I’ll give you my bi-weekly update. My friend Adam and I met with Dr. Coppedge yesterday and are in the process of joining an intensive discipleship (similar to mentoring) program while at grad. school. I have been discouraged in finding a good church lately and really prayed about it yesterday. I ran into a guy who I have class with that night. We started just talking and he told me about his church randomly. It has discipleship, exegetical preaching, contemporary music and is non-denominational. All things I had been looking for in a church. I’m going to check it out this weekend, I’m amped to say the least, especially when it seems like an answer to prayer.

I haven’t gotten many pictures from you guys… I’m not saying I’m disappointed, but come on. I’m not going to sacrifice animals or anything, I’m just going to pray for the people in your family and be encouraged that there are Christians in the world outside of seminary…
Again, my address:

Ben Douglass
ATS-SPO#269
204 N. Lexington Ave
Wilmore, KY 40390-1199

I wish I had a funny story to report, but alas, I do not. I’ve been reading pretty much non-stop. It has been rather annoying to see how many seminary students preparing for occupations as pastors rarely study materials outside of what you will be tested on. It would be equivalent to only eating bread and drinking water when you’re preparing for the Olympics. Sure, you’ll be alive, but you’re going to get smoked by the guys who eat right. Aka: these slackers won’t be able to fulfill their calling effectively. To much is given, much is required, I don’t know why they don’t understand that.

A Wendy's in Kentucky

I went to a Wendy’s here in Lexington, ok, it’s actually a little out of Lexington but if I told you where you wouldn’t know. I was savoring my fries when I looked out the window and saw the “playground” that this Wendy’s furnished. It was composed of a large orange cone, some warn down rubber matting and a table like platform with rings hanging off one of the four corners. I can imagine the kids whooping it up; Billy running endless circles around the large orange cone and Sally stepping up onto and then off of the table occasionally grabbing the ring for fun. Don’t worry Mom, if they should fall, they will easily recover thanks to the warn down rubber matting underneath them. Our playgrounds in Ohio hardly holds a candle to these, we only have endless tunnels where kids pretend they are hampers, big long curly slides and ball pens where the kids jump around and throw balls at each other. Yep, I’ve never seen quite an orange cone like it. It was nearly as tall as Ohio’s state flower, you know, the orange barrel. When you come to visit we’ll stop by my new favorite playground.

On my way out I threw out my trash and headed to the car. When I started driving down the road I noticed that I had ketchup on the back of my right hand and right next to it was a Frosty spot I must have spilled on my finger. I licked the Frosty goodness from my finger and then figured it was easier to clean the ketchup off at the same time, so I licked it off. As I tasted the ketchup, something occurred to me, when I got up from the table I think my hands were pretty clean. See, the last thing I do before I leave the table is use the napkin to make sure my hands are thoroughly clean. My mind began to race, how on earth did I possibly get ketchup on the back of my hand? Then all at once I could see it clearly, I used the back of my hand to prop the garbage lid up to throw my garbage away. I reached for the glovebox and grabbed some spare napkins I always keep there. I tried to pat down my tongue but it was too late I had already ingested the completely gross ketchup. Yeah, so I ate someone’s old ketchup that had been sticking to the lid of the garbage can that they probably never or hardly ever clean. Boy did I feel like a genius the whole way back to Wilmore.

Seminary or MMI?

I didn’t really speak about the greatest pastime on seminary campus… I call it “Match Maker International: the Seminary Years” During the first day of orientation I started to observe it. High levels of both male and female hormone seemed to rage out of control. It really is a toss up who is more desperate the guys or the girls… I’m going to go with guys, but only because I’ve seen them get shot down more than the girls. I don’t think most guys understand that being highly forward with complete strangers isn’t the best of ideas. It only screams that you are completely desperate beyond all goodness and reason, which in most cases seems to the truth, so I guess it doesn’t really matter. I’m not saying a lot of people seem to have come here as an escape from reality/getting a real job or to have a second chance to pick up a wife/husband… Ok, yeah, that’s what I’m saying. Here’s a thought, maybe we should come here to get an education. Now, I am being too harsh, I know a guy who has a girlfriend back home and there are many married couples off campus. Unfortunately I live at ground zero for those who want to rush into relationships (a men’s dorm). I give it two weeks and a lot of the people running around will be hooked up.

The second greatest pastime here is watching TV. Yeah, can you say no life? Everyone seems to watch endless amounts of television. I mean I guess it is a way for people to hang out, but you all know how I feel towards the new American idol. Don’t get me wrong there are many great movies and a few shows that have redeeming value but honestly, every floor I walk onto, everyone is watching it, around the clock. I’m sure this will change once classes start…

I appreciate all the comments. It takes a long time before I actually have friends, and down here it’s Horstman or bust! I’m really glad he is down here, I may go crazy. I read all your blogs but usually am at a loss for words.

Here are my digits in case you want to call me, I just got my line today: 859.749.0067. Although I am reluctant to put it out there, I am lucky enough to only have friends read. I'm on the 250 day and 1000 night plan, yeah it's not much, but I need to study too. Talk to you soon.

Orientation

It is about time for an update. The dorms are ok, the first week was more annoying than it had to be, but it will work out soon. For instance, the hot water went out, the carpets were steamed and now everything inside is soggy (including my pillow and sheets) because of the high humidity. Like I said, petty things that should clear up. I keep debating if I should get a cell phone or hold out for VOIP (Voice Over IP) when they get the internet up in the dorms again.

As accomplishments go, I think I’ve made a pretty significant accomplishment this week. I’ve gotten people from Alabama and Kentucky to make fun of Kentucky with me. That and I managed to get my feet eaten up by chiggers. Being the highly educated individual I am, I went to the store to buy nail polish to kill the chiggers that had burrowed into my skin. What’s that? Chiggers don’t burrow? Oh, I guess it would have made sense to read the fact sheet before I bought nail polish and painted my feet. No, I wasn’t walking around barefoot in the woods, I was wearing flip-flops. For all those other city boys out there, don’t wear flip-flops into the woods. It is a bad idea…

I feel like such a city boy here. When I meet other people who know how to turn their computers on, I get real excited. To all my peeps in Dayton, keep it real.

Bet The Farm

Well, I bet the farm. What a gamble it would be too, leaving your family, friends and financial stability for what could be disastrous. It would be a gamble if I didn’t trust God. I step out in faith, trusting my Creator and his hand on my life.

I think back to all the major turning points in my life. I remember when I was five sitting in the den with my dad and asking Jesus Christ to help turn me from my sin, save me from my deserved punishment and to be the king of my life. What a joyful time it was celebrating with my mom and dad that day, and what an eternal impact it made on my soul.

I remember when my parents started the gut wrenching process of filling for divorce. How sad and angry I was at God and my parents. How helpless I felt. I wished so hard that God would make them stop fighting and make them work things out. I think it is when I became aware of God’s choice to let us walk towards Him or away from Him.

I remember riding bikes with my friends in high school, feeling so empty. Wondering where everything went wrong and hearing Pascal’s analogy roll through my head. He said, ‘We’re all designed with a God-shaped void in our hearts’. I realized that I had put people and possessions in God’s place (Lord of my life). I repented and asked God to help me never do it again.

I remember breaking down during worship when God convicted me of not giving Him every area of my life in February during my junior year at college. He was asking me to step up in leadership at a college ministry and I tried to run from it, but then I realized I had to trust Him with all areas of my life.

And now the next chapter begins. It is a bit scary, similar to when you are about to start a race and you here the words, “Runners to your marks. Set.” All the adrenaline in you rushes through your veins, your heart pumps hard, and you go from relaxed to intensely focused. The hush of the crowd, the whipping of the wind, and the anticipation so thick you could cut it with a knife lets you know, this is for real, the race is about to begin.

I didn’t come here to take a vacation. I didn’t come here to run from my problems. I came because I want to win the race God has set before me. This is where I start another phase of the training. We all have races, each person God has created uniquely in His image. He has poured over each of us preparing us with a special purpose in mind. Each of us has a special place in his heart. To run the race he has set before you is such a sweet flavor to experience. I wish everyone would come and join the race.

So now I prepare for the next phase of my race, which I believe will be in the city. Loving on people; sharing the good news that Jesus has made the way for us to have a personal relationship with the Father; equipping the saints for their races. Helping them see the race that is before them.

Bet the farm. God always comes through.

Sept. 2nd

Things are really busy... I'm packing, helping people move things, saying goodbye to my friends and closing up everything I can here. So... check back at the beginning of September, I should be able to start posting regularly...

Sunburn and Armrests

Hey loyal readers. I know it has been a while, but a Dumples has gotta pack and get ready for school. I have very few hours of weekend left here; weddings are going to suck the life out of most of my weekends until I leave. Not a bad thing, I'm happy to see my friends tie the knot, but it does take time...

This past weekend we went canoeing. Being the pasty white engineer that I am, I thought putting sunscreen on my neck would be all that it took to keep me from burning. In hindsight I see that yes, indeed pasty white guys do burn. I managed to burn the inside of my thighs. Yeah, I look like I inherited white pasty calves which are strangely attached to red (and greatly painful) thighs. On the bright side of things, my Cadillac of a canoe tipped 8 times and I managed to get my co-rower to bail and go solo and to pick up the most annoying canoe partner there could be in his place. Instead of paddling or getting other canoes wet, he felt the need to tip our canoe (why we flipped so much) and splash me instead. You know those guys, the ones that find everything they do to everyone else absolutely hilarious. All the while, my white pasty legs slowing overcooking like an old hotdog sitting at a gas station. I try not to whine about how much they hurt, but it's been a few days now and sleeping is less than pleasant still. If you know an engineer buy them sunscreen, I promise they need it.

So let me share with you the most exciting thing of my day, I got my passenger side armrest for my CR-V! I've been waiting a week and a half for it to ship from sunny California out to our home sweet home, Ohio. I didn't change when I got home from work except to take off my tie and dress shirt. Then I raced to put my new armrest in the car. Like putting together a Level 3 model for the first time, I carefully read the directions twice and made the permanent cuts on my seat. I put the new one on and sat back in shear amazement. Amazed that I actually did it right the first time and amazed that I'm actually really excited about the new armrest... and the remote control! Ok, so I've been holding out on you, I got some remotes to my car too. I figured since I am going to seminary, it would be nice to have both sides of the car open up when people approach it. Ok, I mean I would like to be able to take a girl out with a little class. Nothing says high class like an armrest.

this holiday life

one of the new emerging bands, that I hope makes it big, this holiday life. Rock it out guys.

a moment of stupid

I knocked over my paper shredder a week or so ago and the confetti went all over the floor. This morning I decided I would clean it up. I grabbed the vacuum and started cleaning my floor.

When I got to the pile of shredded papers I paused. Two thoughts rushed through my mind:

1). It is a large pile of paper, you probably shouldn’t try to vacuum it up. It could break the vacuum.

2). Don’t be a girl, vacuum it up. Men don’t pick up what they can get up with a shop vac!

I chose option two, and started vacuuming the pile up. The vacuum worked for a while and then started making a high pitched whine. I emptied the bag and started again. About then I thought to myself, “Hmmm… The vacuum doesn’t have much pull… Oh well” I kept vacuuming. The whine of the vacuum and the lack of its effectiveness finally got me to stop. I examined the vacuum and found that I had blocked the hoses up with paper. Lots of blockage…

Yeah… a moment of stupid. I tried to shake the paper out of the hoses, to no avail. So I detached the hose from the vacuum (thankfully vacuums have come a long way in 10 years) and filled the hose with water. Instead of blowing the paper out of the other end of the tube, it turned the paper into a massive pile of impassible sludge. Boo-yaaa! What was my reaction? I decided I should shake the hose as hard as I could using its own momentum against itself. That backfired, and the sludge compounded all the more. It defies physics, I know. I think they should consider making skyscrapers out of wet paper…

I then decided to take one of my coat hangers and turn it into a stick and shove it up the hose and try to break the clog. Instead of breaking it, the sludge adapted, evolved if you will, and simply let it pass through. Improbable but indeed possible, cause it happened!

I ended up making the coat hanger into a hook and started pulling the sludge out. That actually worked, if it didn’t, I think I may have either busted out the Drain-O or have done something even stupider.

Moral of the story: If you momentarily pause for some reason, at least ponder why you would think such a thing.