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).
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Sunday, September 26, 2004
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'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.
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
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....
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....
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
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.
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 08, 2004
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.
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.
Monday, September 06, 2004
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.
Saturday, September 04, 2004
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.
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.
Monday, August 30, 2004
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.
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.
Friday, August 20, 2004
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...
Monday, August 09, 2004
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 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.
Wednesday, August 04, 2004
this holiday life
one of the new emerging bands, that I hope makes it big, this holiday life. Rock it out guys.
Sunday, August 01, 2004
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.
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.
Friday, July 30, 2004
Riding my bumper
On my way to work I noticed I was driving well over the speed limit. I realized I had sped up because the guy behind me was tailing me, so I subconsciously thought I was going slow. Once I realized this chump was practically sitting in my backseat, I slowed down to around the speed limit. Mind you he was driving a large V8 Toyota something that was jacked way up into the air. The road we were on was one lane so I knew since this guy’s pants were on fire and he was throwing a fit because I was going near the speed limit.
The road split into two lanes and he obviously got into the other lane (left lane) and sped off ahead. I know that this may be taken wrong, but I threw up a quick prayer and asked if he could get the next two red lights. I see him in the distance get the first light much to my delight. I chuckled and continued on my “snail” pace at near the speed limit. I got the green light, he was still way ahead and flooring it every chance he got.
The second light brought even more contentment to me. Yes, once again he had to stop and wait at the light. I’m sure he could see me smiling in the irony, since I was right behind him now. All the precious ground he covered was made up thanks to the good old traffic laws. I like them sometimes...
To top it all off, he was also headed to the Air Force base (where I work). They check IDs in two lines, he went to the right and I went to the left. The person in front of him got stopped for probably almost a minute, I not only caught up to him, I left him so far in the dust I couldn’t even make out his truck in the rear-view mirror. God is so good to me.
The road split into two lanes and he obviously got into the other lane (left lane) and sped off ahead. I know that this may be taken wrong, but I threw up a quick prayer and asked if he could get the next two red lights. I see him in the distance get the first light much to my delight. I chuckled and continued on my “snail” pace at near the speed limit. I got the green light, he was still way ahead and flooring it every chance he got.
The second light brought even more contentment to me. Yes, once again he had to stop and wait at the light. I’m sure he could see me smiling in the irony, since I was right behind him now. All the precious ground he covered was made up thanks to the good old traffic laws. I like them sometimes...
To top it all off, he was also headed to the Air Force base (where I work). They check IDs in two lines, he went to the right and I went to the left. The person in front of him got stopped for probably almost a minute, I not only caught up to him, I left him so far in the dust I couldn’t even make out his truck in the rear-view mirror. God is so good to me.
Monday, July 26, 2004
New Roomie
I got the email today that I have a roommate at Asbury. They gave me his email address. This will be the first time I talk to him, I’m thinking it would be funny to mess with him. What should I say to him to really throw him for a loop. Such as I’ll bring __________ or that I’ve never _____________ or that I should tell him that I ___________ . I’m throwing it back to you, what should I tell him?
Sunday, July 25, 2004
Spritual Gifts
I know it has been a long time (over a week) since I’ve last posted. I have five weeks left here until I leave for seminary. I want to leave all my responsibilities here in Dayton on a good note. This means trying to get my house in order, pass off the leadership to the 20s group at my church and make sure things at the office are as ready as they can be. It is important to finish well on the chapters of life we have as well as start off on the right foot into the next chapter.
Every idea I had for a post has officially left my head. Most everything I want to talk about isn’t really something I can share. Those seem to be the things you always want to talk about, aren’t they? I’ll say this and then leave for another couple days. Everyone I know has an opinion about Spiritual Gifts. Everyone feels so strongly that they would for some reason be willing to leave/divide churches. When it comes to actually sitting down over a couple months and really diving into the Scriptures and reading up on the scholarship to the issue, everyone disappears. It goes to a theory I’m coming to that everyone is willing to fight for what they think they’ve heard once somewhere and is backed up by superstition or a story about a guy who knows a guy who once fell in a deep hole and had Lassie come save them, blah blah blah. Yet, when you ask them to really explore all sides of the issue at hand, people are afraid of being wrong; afraid they've been putting too much stock in bad logic and will somehow be brainwashed by reason and prayer. My friend Adam and I have been at this particular topic for months, at one point we had five people (pretty weak) and now we’re down to one guy. one. I wish more people would care. By caring, I mean actually give a rip and try to understand where the truth lies in this gray area of Christianity. That way, you can be comfortable with other people's arguments because you've explored their Scriptural basis. But then again I’m not your mom. The third wave is here, love it or hate it.
Every idea I had for a post has officially left my head. Most everything I want to talk about isn’t really something I can share. Those seem to be the things you always want to talk about, aren’t they? I’ll say this and then leave for another couple days. Everyone I know has an opinion about Spiritual Gifts. Everyone feels so strongly that they would for some reason be willing to leave/divide churches. When it comes to actually sitting down over a couple months and really diving into the Scriptures and reading up on the scholarship to the issue, everyone disappears. It goes to a theory I’m coming to that everyone is willing to fight for what they think they’ve heard once somewhere and is backed up by superstition or a story about a guy who knows a guy who once fell in a deep hole and had Lassie come save them, blah blah blah. Yet, when you ask them to really explore all sides of the issue at hand, people are afraid of being wrong; afraid they've been putting too much stock in bad logic and will somehow be brainwashed by reason and prayer. My friend Adam and I have been at this particular topic for months, at one point we had five people (pretty weak) and now we’re down to one guy. one. I wish more people would care. By caring, I mean actually give a rip and try to understand where the truth lies in this gray area of Christianity. That way, you can be comfortable with other people's arguments because you've explored their Scriptural basis. But then again I’m not your mom. The third wave is here, love it or hate it.
Saturday, July 17, 2004
Modern Christian Lit.
The Prayer of Jabez is a worthy book, so worthy it deserves all the leather bounding, gold trimming, thin paging it has received. It sits along side with other most important books for your survival as a Christian such as The Purpose Driven Life, Wild At Heart and a million other books just like them. That’s right Christian, you NEED to have this book or you won’t be as spiritual as all the other Christians out there. It will walk you through Bruce Wilkinson’s proven prayer that will bless you over and over again.
I’m shocked you haven’t been reading it all day long, and haven’t spent every waking moment you have learning from modern Christian books. Where would we be without Family Christian bookstore and Christianbook.com helping us find our way back to more modern pop-culture Christian literature? What would we do if someone didn’t tell us we would be much happier if we did exactly what they say? They have found a magic formula for living and you can have it! All you need to do is buy their book, their workbook that goes with it. Of course you can offset your spirituality from others around you who are doing the same thing by buying the coin, prayer shawl, floor mat, and the follow-up book. Although I haven’t actually seen these items for other books like the POJ has, most books are similar.
I can’t even stand to read more than a few pages in a book I was given by one of my pastors. He has given me three books and each of the three was well-written but suffered from the same problem. Every book seems to swear up and down that it isn’t about formulas and then proceeds to give some kind of formula. Granted, there are steps we take in our walk. Yet, somehow it seems like we’ve become too scientific in our thinking. Maybe it is what everyone wants, but not what we need. If all we hear on Sunday mornings is a sermon that reeks of “Self-Help” or “10 Steps To A Better Life” then we are missing the mark.
Instead I find myself forced to read books by authors of old. Authors who didn’t focus on “steps”, people who didn’t know the first thing about modern psychology. These books help you meditate on God, to sit back and marvel at how good He is to us. To look at the depth of his love, of his power, of his sovereignty, these are the author’s intent. They don’t focus on men or how to fix ourselves, they focus on God. In modern literature there are some books that do this outside of the Bible, but they are infrequent not the normative. Like a machine, new formula-based, self-help and 10-steps books come out all the time. I can’t enjoy these books, something is wrong…
It reminds me of the wave of Christian artists coming out of Nashville, TN. It’s like they are robots built by some mad scientist. Every one of them sound somehow… fake. From Toby Mac to Avalon it all makes me sick. I am ever so thankful for the other wave of artists who are Christians like Blindside, POD, Switchfoot and others coming out of San Diego. They don’t sound like the rest of the Nashville bunch, praise God.
I draw this connection because I can’t help but wonder if much like there is a Christian machine in Nashville conforming its artists to some mold, the world of Christian books is being ruled by some high ranking executives who find the need to push out the same format in books year after year. It may well be that Christians are so caught up in the American advertising that we’ve become subject to its brainwashing. I think in part we naturally think that somehow the books we read can take the place God is to fill in our lives; in pop-culture it seems things that take many years aren’t worth doing… What if quite the opposite is true.
I’m shocked you haven’t been reading it all day long, and haven’t spent every waking moment you have learning from modern Christian books. Where would we be without Family Christian bookstore and Christianbook.com helping us find our way back to more modern pop-culture Christian literature? What would we do if someone didn’t tell us we would be much happier if we did exactly what they say? They have found a magic formula for living and you can have it! All you need to do is buy their book, their workbook that goes with it. Of course you can offset your spirituality from others around you who are doing the same thing by buying the coin, prayer shawl, floor mat, and the follow-up book. Although I haven’t actually seen these items for other books like the POJ has, most books are similar.
I can’t even stand to read more than a few pages in a book I was given by one of my pastors. He has given me three books and each of the three was well-written but suffered from the same problem. Every book seems to swear up and down that it isn’t about formulas and then proceeds to give some kind of formula. Granted, there are steps we take in our walk. Yet, somehow it seems like we’ve become too scientific in our thinking. Maybe it is what everyone wants, but not what we need. If all we hear on Sunday mornings is a sermon that reeks of “Self-Help” or “10 Steps To A Better Life” then we are missing the mark.
Instead I find myself forced to read books by authors of old. Authors who didn’t focus on “steps”, people who didn’t know the first thing about modern psychology. These books help you meditate on God, to sit back and marvel at how good He is to us. To look at the depth of his love, of his power, of his sovereignty, these are the author’s intent. They don’t focus on men or how to fix ourselves, they focus on God. In modern literature there are some books that do this outside of the Bible, but they are infrequent not the normative. Like a machine, new formula-based, self-help and 10-steps books come out all the time. I can’t enjoy these books, something is wrong…
It reminds me of the wave of Christian artists coming out of Nashville, TN. It’s like they are robots built by some mad scientist. Every one of them sound somehow… fake. From Toby Mac to Avalon it all makes me sick. I am ever so thankful for the other wave of artists who are Christians like Blindside, POD, Switchfoot and others coming out of San Diego. They don’t sound like the rest of the Nashville bunch, praise God.
I draw this connection because I can’t help but wonder if much like there is a Christian machine in Nashville conforming its artists to some mold, the world of Christian books is being ruled by some high ranking executives who find the need to push out the same format in books year after year. It may well be that Christians are so caught up in the American advertising that we’ve become subject to its brainwashing. I think in part we naturally think that somehow the books we read can take the place God is to fill in our lives; in pop-culture it seems things that take many years aren’t worth doing… What if quite the opposite is true.
Friday, July 16, 2004
the radius of funk
More sharing about my house... In the room where our squirrels have become residents, the funk lingers. Without ceasing. Some think it comes from the wall, some from the couch, some from carpet and some think it may even come from something under the carpet. I love it when someone new first comes over. The whole room doesn't smell, just a 3 to 5 foot radius. Many times people think someone has ripped some most righteous gas, others think another guest in the room has rank feet and yet others think it is them (like I did for months). I love to watch their reactions.
I was reminded about it again tonight when an old friend sat down in a chair inside the radius of funk. His reaction... light a match. One match didn't seem to help, so he lit another one. I didn't say a word, I just watched him. After he strained to find the source of the smell for a good few minutes, I let him in on the secret of our room, the mysterious funk. Another friend then chimed in, who thought our shoes stunk (it must have been his first time sitting in the radius of funk).
To this day the funk is indescribable. Does it smell like dead animals, or maybe like old shoes? Does it smell like rotten milk or maybe some form of mold? The answer to all of these is... yes. Yes, it smells like everything bad in the world. Worse than feet, rotten milk, dead animal and even some White Castle gone bad (if you smell what I'm cookin'). It makes dorm rooms smell like mountain air and airplane cabins seem sanitary. Six weeks, and then I leave. Come soon, ATS. Come soon.
I was reminded about it again tonight when an old friend sat down in a chair inside the radius of funk. His reaction... light a match. One match didn't seem to help, so he lit another one. I didn't say a word, I just watched him. After he strained to find the source of the smell for a good few minutes, I let him in on the secret of our room, the mysterious funk. Another friend then chimed in, who thought our shoes stunk (it must have been his first time sitting in the radius of funk).
To this day the funk is indescribable. Does it smell like dead animals, or maybe like old shoes? Does it smell like rotten milk or maybe some form of mold? The answer to all of these is... yes. Yes, it smells like everything bad in the world. Worse than feet, rotten milk, dead animal and even some White Castle gone bad (if you smell what I'm cookin'). It makes dorm rooms smell like mountain air and airplane cabins seem sanitary. Six weeks, and then I leave. Come soon, ATS. Come soon.
Thursday, July 15, 2004
Summer rocks.
A peaceful summer night. The cool breeze and the crickets chirping. You can watch all the lightning bugs shoot off like fire crackers or lay under the stars and just pray or chill and think about something. You can go ride your bike, run in the middle of the night, sit by the river or even on the river. Summer sure is great. Can someone remind me, why do we like cold weather again?
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