Today's Seinfeld Moment (#6)

At the Cuba mission trip meeting tonight, we talked about what we can and cannot bring with us. Oddly enough, beef jerky is not allowed. Castro controls all the beef in the country.

Catha pointed out that, if he wanted to, Castro could wake up one day and announce that everyone is prohibited from eating chicken.

She added, "No chicken for you! One year!"

Where's Waldo?

Today's Seinfeld Moment (#5)

Actually, this is from yesterday ...

While teaching in The Real Deal, I asked how Jesus' miracles would have been perceived by others if He had done them outside of God's will. David Hilburn noted that "it would have been like Marlee Matlin reading lips from across the room" -- nothing more than a parlor trick to amuse and astound the onlookers.

(Granted, Hilburn is a Seinfeld fan and he reads my blog. So, some may consider this to be a "planted" daily Seinfeld moment. But, I had nothing to do with it, so it counts to me.)

"Men of Feagan" Calendar

Here's a sneak preview of the Men of Feagan calendar. Look for it in major bookstores and other national retailers later this year -- and the Garden Bookstore, too.

Today's Seinfeld Moment (#4)

Actually, this is from yesterday ...

At Mike and Brandi's wedding, Taylor Tran asked about my tuxedo shirt. She was trying to tell if it were white or off-white. Then she asked what kind of fabric it was. Needing physical proof that it was not silk, she reached over and felt the fabric of my sleeve between her thumb and index finger. And Joel followed suit.

Jekyll and Hyde

The many dance faces of Joel Bain ...

Notice that he smiles only when facing Taylor. Adorable.

Today's Seinfeld Moment (#3)

At Mike and Brandi's rehearsal dinner tonight, her 18 year old nephew was sitting at my table. He began running his finger around the rim of his water glass creating a loud ringing sound. Several other people at the table joined him, with Stan having two or three glasses going, each with a different pitch.

I finally gave in and started with my own glass. It was quickly evident that, like most everything else that I do or say, mine was the loudest. Significantly so. Todd said that I had the Kavorka.

Today's Seinfeld Moment (#2)

My former co-worker sent me pictures of her little girl. She is breathtaking!

Today's Seinfeld Moment (#1)

My colleague and I took our respective administrative professionals to lunch today in honor of Administrative Professionals' Day. For an appetizer, I had the lobster bisque.

My Inner-Grumpy

For the record, my inner-Grumpy wrote the post about large groups and long tables. He sure can be a jerk, huh? If I had written it, it would have sounded much nicer and much less condescending.

What my inner-Grumpy failed to recognize are the well-meaning, good intentions of those who live in the "one large table" camp. In my opinion, his comments sounded a bit too -- dare I say -- judgmental. Don't worry. I'll have a talk with him and point out the errors of his ways.

While my inner-Grumpy and I may share the same frustration with one large table, you will not find him at my table for four -- so please do not hesitate to join me!

A Different Kind Of News

Long story short ... I'm going to Cuba.

Long story a little less short ... somebody had to back out of the trip with Summit Ministries at HFBC. Another person had to fill the spot by today in order to get the new person's name on the ticket (or something like that). I was available ... yada yada yada ... I'm going to Cuba.

In 1989, I went on a tour of Europe, including a few days in Moscow. It was the summer before the Wall came down, so the Soviets were still calling the shots. Knowing that we would be meeting with college students during our trip, I packed various magazines with Reagan or Gorbachev on the cover. Or were they winning lottery tickets? Or long-lost relatives? Whatever they were, the students responded with exuberant shouts and joyful tears. I will never forget that encounter -- if not for their appreciation, then for the poorly lit discotheque in which it took place.

So back I go to a communist nation. Not sure yet what the rules are about items we can or cannot bring in to Fidel's island. (I'm only familiar with what we cannot bring out!) However, this time I'll be bringing a different type of news -- the good news!

Nights Of The Long Table

Why is it that large groups always insist on sitting at one long table at restaurants?

(I would ask why do large groups of Christians always insist upon it, but I'm not sure that it's just us. Since I'm rarely in large groups of non-believers, I cannot really attest to their seating preferences.)

Think this through with me:

• Sitting at one long table doesn't enable you to speak to every person at the table. Sound does not travel any faster or better through contiguous tables. I still cannot hear the person sitting twelve people away from me.
• When putting tables together, you lose seats. Two tables of four make one table for six -- unless you have people who like sitting on the crack, and who likes that?
• Sitting at one long table is risky business for people who like to talk. We've all been there. You sit in the middle thinking you've cased out the best seat, with access to everyone, only to find yourself in no-man's-land between conversations at either end of the table.
• Many Sunday Bible studies in the singles department have "dinner for 6" events so people in the class can get to know people in a more intimate setting. Why not make every lunch or dinner with the class just as intimate and simply sit at the tables and booths as you find them?

(Ironically, after softball tonight, I went to dinner with The Shed (my former class). I was the first one to get there and grabbed a long picnic table that would seat about 20 people. Knowing how peeps would want a long table, I figured I would grab one already in place. That way, only three tables had to be moved for the rest of the group. Nice compromise.)

Perhaps the greatest concern of mine is the impact on the restaurant workers. At the risk of sounding holier-than-thou, it troubles me to see large groups rearrange a restaurant and then leave it how they left it -- not how they found out.

Think about it. Everybody in the group chips in to move the tables and chairs (since it ain't always easy work). But then the same amount of work is often left to one underpaid busboy (or girl) to put it all back in place. That's not cool, and for a church group, that's not a good witness.

So, why the desire to be shoulder-to-shoulder with 20 people? My best guesses:

• People believe that proximity demonstrates their unity. Or perhaps, that their unity will increase due to their proximity.
• People fear being stuck at a table of 4 with people they do not know -- or with people they know but with whom they do not care to talk. There is safety in numbers.

(Am I anywhere close to being right?)

My friends have known for years that this is a pet peeve of mine -- an annoyance that I just cannot shake. I feel like this is a one-man crusade against nights of the long tables (or afternoons if you go to morning church).

If you and I are ever in a large group together and we go to lunch or dinner, come join me in my booth or at my table for four. I look forward to getting to know you!

Miss Ellie Is Turning In Her Grave

This article just took the wind out of my sails on San Jacinto Day.

Even though I despise the city of Dallas with every fiber of my being, I was a big fan of the show by the same name. (Weren't we all?) To see such a fine piece of our American TV heritage tainted like this is just too much to take.

J.Lo as Sue Ellen? Actually, I guess I can see that one. She can be tough, and she can play the victim card quite well. On top of that, the girl does like her bling. Adding a Hispanic to the cast may be a first, too. Good casting.

But Vinny Barbarino as J.R. Ewing? No. Not cool. Not cool at all. Unacceptable. Completely unacceptable. I would have cast any number of other people as J.R. before John "Battlefield Earth" Travolta.

For starters, how about Matthew McConaughey? He's got the accent, the swagger. (Note: I have used the word "swagger" in two consecutive posts. Not so sure I've ever used the word "swagger" in two consecutive years.)

Matthew too young? How about Harrison Ford. He's got the age factor, and can look wealthy and distinguished when needed. Although, viewers tend to not like to hate Harrison -- and an earring wouldn't fly at Southfork.

What about Tommy Lee Jones? He's got the accent, too, and could certainly keep J.Lo in line (whatever that means). But maybe he's too rugged looking. I don't think J.R. ever did a hard day's work in his life.

I give up. Who do you think should play J.R.?

"Remember the Alamo!"

"Honor the Texas flag; I pledge allegiance to thee, Texas, one and indivisible."

Today is the 170th anniversary of the Battle of San Jacinto -- that heroic moment when General Sam Houston and his gang defeated a napping Santa Anna over near present-day Baytown. Growing up in B-Town, passing by the San Jacinto monument on I-10 was always a sign that I was almost home as I sat in the back seat of the family station wagon. Though technically not in B-Town, it was close enough. And on top of that, our mall was named after it.

You gotta love ol' Sam. Be sure to read his biography, The Raven, by Marquis James. Fascinating character, Sam was. Ran away from home to live with Indians. Taught himself the law. Served two terms in Congress, appearing once in the House chamber dressed in full Indian regalia. And then there was the mysterious "incident" during his honeymoon after marrying a much younger woman which left them estranged forever.

Anyway ... thanks to good ol' Sam, today we celebrate the day we won our independence. (Did you know that his statue in Hermann Park points toward San Jacinto?)

For those of you born in Texas, be sure to stand a little taller.

Put a little more swagger in your step.

You deserve it.

The Very Hairs On My Head

"... even the very hairs of your head are all numbered." (Matthew 10:30)

I graduated from barber shop to salon today.

It wasn't an easy decision to make. First, my barber shop is much cheaper. Second, my barber shop is in Rice Village so it always provides me with an excuse to run errands (read = "stop by The Gap"). Third, I prefer telling people I go to a barber shop than a salon (despite my public confession about spending a day at the spa).

But it was becoming apparent that my hair had outgrown the skills of the barber shop. Or I was just getting picky. (You decide.) Regardless, the multidimensional layers, briarpatch-like density, and rogue curls were well beyond what a 15-minute drive-by with a clipper could handle.

So a friend of mine gave me the name of the guy he goes to -- Eric. He's a Christian guy, has a 9 year-old son, attends classes at a local Bible college, and eventually wants to go into ministry. And he owns the salon. Great guy.

The best part of my visit was overhearing the conversation between the stylist at the station next to me and her elderly female customer. It was a glimpse into a whole other world -- a world where women get their hair set once a week and miraculously keep it like that until the following week. (Not sure if that's miraculous so much as it is gross.)

When the customer with her freshly set Dallas-style helmet-hair was ready to leave, she handed the stylist her check. As politely as she possibly could (seemingly so as not to offend this matriarch of somebody's family), the stylist asked the woman if she meant to use a pencil to write her check. "Did I really?" asked Miss Ellie, "Oh well, at least I know you. You won't change the amount, right?" She then asked the stylist for help getting her keys out of her purse. She had her nails done earlier (with orange polish since she was "sick of that %@&# red") and didn't want to risk messing them up excavating in her big ol' matriarch purse/trunk.

Anywho ... the hair is fine. I think I lost about 10 or 12 pounds as a result. At least that's what I'm telling myself to justify eating a double-pepperoni pizza at 9:30 pm tonight. I can't keep that up for long, though, because as His word tell us ...

"... the hair on his head began to grow again after it had been shaved." (Judges 16:22)

College and Chocolate-Covered Watermelon

Good times today with my niece and nephew. Here are a few of the moments . . .

(LEFT) Kristin enjoys one of the chocolate-covered strawberries she made. Joel and Taylor ... she might be able to cater your reception if you're interested. Just don't order the chocolate-covered watermelon pieces. She has not quite perfected those. (And honestly, I hope she doesn't. Those just don't do it for me.)

(RIGHT) Kyle tries to hold on to Heidi (their lab and red heeler mix) as she sets her sites on a flock of baby ducks out in the lake. She eventually jumped in and swam toward them, but Mama Duck put up a fight. Actually, it wasn't a fight so much as it was just an annoying back-and-forth swim accompanied by top-of-the-lungs annoying quacking. I think Heidi could have gotten through, but seriously - I mean annoying! It made me wish I were a hunter - right then and there.

(LEFT) Grandma (my mom) tried a new recipe for Easter dessert at Kyle's request - peanut butter cup cheesecake. Here, Kristin and Grandma start dishing it out for everybody. (That's Kyle below with his first of two servings.) When they were young (and when I was a kid, too), Grandma used to make an Easter bunny using two flat round cakes. A couple of strategic cuts of one of 'em and she had two ears and a bowtie to add to the other. Slap on some white frosting, shredded coconut, jelly beans, Twizzlers, gum drops - and you've got an edible bunny cake! I guess we've all moved on to more "grown up" desserts these days.

They only have about five weeks left of elementary school, and then they're on to junior high next year. I asked them how many years before they go off to college, and Kristin shouted out "Seven!" almost before I could finish the question. I have just seven years to convince them that Baylor is the best choice. If they were to pack up for college today, they would be headed to Austin. I guess that's better than another alternative. Like the chocolate-covered watermelon, it just doesn't do it for me.

Got Junk?

To answer the questions posed by the truck, "Yes. I got junk."

Actually, as of 9:27 this morning, I got less junk than I did when I woke up. That's when Nick and Javier pulled out of my driveway with a healthy payload of junk that used to occupy parts of my garage and what you might call my "backyard" (for lack of a better term).

I know what you're wondering. Why didn't I just throw it away (for free) instead of having the guys from 1-800-GOT-JUNK haul it away (for a fee)? Good question.

Those who know me well know that I wrestle with having too much junk. It's been nearly 16 months since I've allowed anybody to see my bedroom due to the piles of stuff I've accumulated there. I've been at my job for just two months and my desk is already a disaster. My SUV is so cluttered that I rarely have room for passengers. Clearly, I have issues when trying to keep my life free of junk. I got junk.

So, setting an appointment and paying a fee was a motivator for me to do some cleaning. I know myself well enough to know that it would be a long time -- if ever -- before I could (or would) go through and throw away all of the junk on my own. It would be more than just filling a Hefty bag. It would require figuring out the heavy trash pick up days, hauling some big items to wherever big items are supposed to go, and ... well, those two tasks are deal-breakers enough. No need to list a third.

In hindsight, maybe there's a spiritual parallel. I cannot get rid of the junk in my life through my own efforts. Sure, it may be tempting to "do it yourself" and be the All-American male homeowner spending a day sweating it out in the garage and unloading piles at the city dump. (Actually, that does not tempt me at all.) The fact is, the junk in my life was becoming a permanent fixture in my home and I needed somebody else to take it away.

Sounds like what Christ did for us on the Cross. We cannot get rid of the sin (the "junk") in our lives on our own. It may be tempting to try, but we will always fail. Always. Instead, if we invite Him in and give Him access to the junk, He'll haul it away for us. That's what Nick and Javier did this morning. I opened my garage door, pointed to the piles, and they did all the heavy lifting. With them, I paid a fee. With Jesus, He paid it for me.

Got junk? Not anymore.

Isn't that special!

Could I possibly sound any more like the Church Lady in this? Click here and watch the video.

Bless my heart.

Blahgs

Blogs that are not updated are blahgs. I'm not sure if that's an original term or not, but it came to mind this morning and I was proud of it.

So that begs the question, "Who has the worst blahg?"

Well, I took a look at the links to my friends' blogs to see if any had morphed into blahgs. In order of their last updates (by date) here are the rankings, from most recent to most blah:

22. Laurie Johnson / Dovie Keprta (last update: TODAY)
18. David Hilburn / Lisa Karabatsos / Stan Kwan / Ryan Riley (last update: April 11, 2006)
16. Carissa Vaughn / YiMay Yang (last update: April 10, 2006)
15. Arshunda Washington (last update: April 9, 2006)
14. Lori Latham (last update: April 7, 2006)
11. Joel Bain / Kelly Parker / Chris Windham (last update: April 5, 2006)
9. Jessica Reeve / Todd Richards (last update: April 4, 2006)
8. Erin van Volkenburgh (last update: April 3, 2006)
6. Rob Crawford / Katie Strautman (last update: March 31, 2006)
5. Leslie Follmer (last update: March 29, 2006)
4. Les Brown (last update: March 20, 2006)
3. Raj Parikh (last update: February 21, 2006)
2. Alyssa Ross (last update: January 4, 2006)
1. Greg Leach (last update: September 3, 2005)

So, congrats to Laurie and Dovie. And congrats to those of you in 11th place and lower for all posting within the last week. But those of you in the March timeframe ... seriously? Just pull the plug already. (Except for Les ... he's a new father, so he's busy.)

Alyssa? Greg? You may want to ask Joel for help. He effectively moved from blahg back to blog recently. Maybe he can give you some pointers.

Tearing Down Walls (Part 2)

On Sunday, I received another e-mail from "Bob" (the guy who ran into the wall). Since I had not heard from him in a week or so and the ball was in his court to reply, I sent a message late last week just to see if he were OK -- and to gauge whether he really wanted to keep in touch.

Fortunately, he does. He asked about our worship service schedule in his most recent message. I gave him the details and invited him to join us some week. I also restated my offer to take him to lunch or dinner.

Your prayers for Bob are appreciated. I'm sure the last thing the enemy wants is for him to make it back to church -- and to God. Pray against any new walls going up in Bob's life!

Mourning In America

Wednesday morning was the beginning of the end of a very long chapter of my life. Katie Couric announced her plans to leave the Today show for the anchor seat on the CBS Evening News.

Yes, Katie is liberal. And no, I am not. I realize that. In fact, I can only recall voting for one Democrat in my life -- Texas Lt. Gov. Bob Bullock (a fine Baylor alumnus). But other guys have learned to live with their spouse's political differences. Look at James Carville and Mary Matalin. They figured out how to make it work, right? Thanks for blazing that trail, James.

While Katie may have been waking up America for 15 years now (Wednesday was her anniversary), I was not really a fan in the early days. To be honest with you, I still missed Jane Pauley and was more than a little turned off by the Deborah Norville era. (You can probably see clips of her days as host in the "What Were They Thinking?" section of the Museum of Broadcast Communication.) On top of that, Katie had not quite developed her look just yet.

But as the years passed, we watched as Bryant left her, Matt joined her, and she had a ... um ... "procedure" on live TV. And, we wished we were related to her when she signed a 5-year contract for $60 million. (Do the math. That comes out to about $50,000 per weekday.) Along the way, Katie and the gang became a part of my morning ritual -- especially after I bought a TV that I could program to come on in the morning, functioning as one of many alarm clocks.

I've been to Rockefeller Plaza twice in hopes of seeing the Today show folks outside. The first time was by myself on New Year's Day 1995 (my friends slept in). I made it on TV, but Katie and Bryant had the day off. Then, in 2003, I coerced some friends to not only drag themselves down to the Plaza early in the morning, but to also wear t-shirts from my surprise birthday party ("SWM 2008 -- Good Times! Good Times!"). We were able to see Katie in person, and Al Roker pointed to our shirts and said, "Good times! Good times!" But the hopes of meeting Katie were shattered.

So, now I have a little less than two months left before Katie leaves me -- um, I mean leaves us, her millions of fans. I'm not sure I can keep this up once she jumps to CBS. Not only am I rarely home at 5:30 pm, but 30 minutes of Katie being un-perky would just be too much to endure.

Like watching a butterfly without her wings.

I See Dating People

So, on Sunday evening while I was nursing a "Love It" size dish of mint ice cream with Heath Bar mix-ins at Cold Stone Creamery, I discovered that a couple of my friends were dating.

(If you are wondering who they are, don't ask. I will wait for them to out themselves here on this blog. I'm pretty sure that it is not a secret, but if I were to share their names, you would focus more on them and not on the story. And since this is my blog, I need you to pay attention to me. OK?)

Back to Cold Stone ...

I sat there in disbelief -- not about the fact that they are dating (which I think is great), but about the fact that I did not know. How could this have happened? How did this get by me? How was this inner-looper SO far out of the loop?

And then images started coming back to me. Images from the past few days of my life. Random images of moments that nearly went unnoticed or unquestioned at the time, but which suddenly carried great significance and meaning. Everything was beginning to make sense -- and I didn't even realize that everything didn't make sense to me to begin with!

I was living out the closing scene from The Sixth Sense.

With this new awareness of my friends' relationship, the last few days of my life flashed before my eyes -- eyes which now had the benefit of 20/20 vision ...

• so that's why he came to home team for the first time in a very long time (I thought it was some sort of spiritual awakening)
• so that's why she was at our class event one hour early (I thought she may have read the class calendar incorrectly)
• so that's why she called him for directions to the restaurant on Sunday (I thought she just called somebody whom she knew was going)
• so that's why they sat next to each other at dinner and held hands (I thought ... well, I'm not really sure what I thought about that)

Now my senses are more refined. They are more sensitive to dating people lurking among us. You may or may not notice them. In fact, many people have come to believe that they do not exist at all. But trust me when I tell you that they do. I should know ... I've seen them!

A Very Special Delivery

I've been waiting to post about this until the story had fully unfolded ... and it finally has!

As some of you know, I mailed a package to Ricky in India last week. This was something that I had put off for quite a while, to be honest with you -- not knowing how best to mail it, and not knowing what would be best to send to my brother on the other side of the world.

I finally got my act together and rounded up some things to ship. Among the contents were Daily in His Presence by Andrew Murray (the HFBC daily devotional for 2006), a book about prayer, a book about the Christian faith, some prayer guides from Pray The Word Ministries (praying for your local church and for your pastor), and copies of HFBC's Ekklesia magazine (Missions 2006) in which I mention in an article that Ricky prayed for me while I was in Guatemala last May.

To send the package certified -- so I could track it and verify that it arrived -- would have cost more than $100. Thanks, but no thanks. The cheapest route would have taken up to 2 or 3 months for it to arrive (yes, 2 or 3 months). So, I opted for the middle of the road option and paid about $43 to get it there in 4-8 business days.

I have to tell you that when I went to the Post Office at West Gray and Dunlavy, God provided me with a Christian postal worker -- Shirley. Since I showed up with my stack of contents and no box, she saw the titles of the books I was sending. Shirley's face lit up -- and the encouraging words started to flow!

She said how grateful she was to see a "young man" (that's me -- YOUNG!) with Christian literature and material. I told her the story about Ricky -- my brother on the other side of the world in India. I think it became Shirley's mission in that moment to do all she could to make sure that that package got to Ricky. We spent about 15 minutes looking over the options, ensuring that we had the address formatted the right way, weighing the pros and cons of each delivery method -- while she periodically quoted scripture and prayed over the package!

(Apparently, Shirley was going to retire last year, but God told her to "be still" and to stay at the Post Office. He wasn't done with her yet, she said. I'm so glad that He wasn't!)

Well, I received an e-mail from Ricky today. The package arrived! Here's what he had to say:

"JA MASIH KI, brother. Its like a dream coming true. Thanking you very much I received your package yesterday (31th, March). I cant express my joyness. This is a first time I got a mail from foreign. More than me my parents were waiting for your mail. All the peoples of my street gathered to see your mail. My grandmother was blessing you. I will distribute your magazine, but unlucky noone will be able to read and just see pictures given in it. Brother, you should have given my picture in magazine. You have increased my and mine parents respect by mentioning my name in the magazine. Thanks very much for the package."

I would appreciate your prayers as I continue to encourage Ricky in his faith from the other side of the world through e-mail. Also, please pray that he is able to make the most of the materials I provided him. He has some understanding of English, although I am not sure how skilled he is. Pray that the Spirit is able to give him the understanding that he needs! Finally, please pray that Ricky and his family (and the people in his village) are not focused on me and the package I sent, but rather on God and the Gift that He has given us all!

This week, I'm going back to the Post Office to tell Shirley that the package arrived. I told her that I would!

Build it and they will chat

One of my new favorite websites is the Houston Architecture Info Forum.

I am a sucker for new developments here in H-Town. I love to hear about 'em and to watch 'em go up. As a kid, I wanted to be an architect (not just to pretend to be one, but to actually be one). But when I learned that math and science were involved, those plans changed.

The best part of the website? The forums. You'll find inside scoops from folks who are "in the know" about such things. Here's one of the best ones concerning the southwest corner of Kirby and Westheimer. Sure looks better than Jalepenos and a gas station! But with hundreds of high-rent-paying-inner-loopers right across the street, the wait at Chuy's may get a lot worse! iAdios mios!

Tearing Down Walls In More Ways Than One

Thanks for your prayers for Bob. I want to share with you an e-mail that I received from him today:

"Hi, thank you for your card. Im so sorry for what happened to the wall and at the same time I am very grateful that I was not seriously hurt, not even a scratch. I was not aware that I came out in the news. What did channel 2 say? Can you give me some information about that? Anyway............yes I would love some information about your services. I will not be going any time soon though, but I will go..........I just need some time. I know God has something for me and he is going to do it the easy way or hard way. I just need some time to get my life in order. Thanks again for sending me a card instead of a bill for the wall. Please keep me in your prayers, I really do need them alot."

In my reply to Bob (again, not his real name), I talked about "walls" that we build up in our lives that prevent us from having a closer relationship with God. I commented on the symbolism of his crashing into a wall -- and one at a church, too! It reminded me of how God chipped away at the walls in my life -- but that He just may be doing it more dramatically in Bob's life!

As I was typing my reply, Stephen Curtis Chapman's "Great Expectations" was playing on my radio. I was reminded of how that song ministered to me so much, especially not long after the "walls" had come down in my life. So, I quickly googled and shared the lyrics with Bob in my e-mail, too.

I offered to take Bob to lunch or dinner sometime with some other friends of mine. Please pray that he would be open to connecting more -- if not in person, then at least through e-mail. More importantly, pray for his heart to be softened and in tune with what God may be showing him.

Prayer for "Bob"

Please say a prayer for the guy who ran into our wall here at HFBC. For his sake, I'll just refer to him as Bob. (No, "Bob" is not his name.)

I'm sending him a card just to say that we are thinking about and praying for him. I also invited him and his family to come visit our church -- and promised that we would have an actual parking space available for him!

He's a young guy in his early 20s and lives on the other side of town. That's all I know about the guy (other than his real name). Since the scene had been cleared by the time I arrived that morning, I did not get a chance to meet him.

Anyway, say a prayer for him, please. Particularly, pray that the message in the card would be well-received. More importantly, pray for freedom from any circumstances in his life that may have led him to have that accident.

Who needs Pottery Barn?

My latest office decor ...

It's A Sign

My cell phone went off around 4:25 a.m. last Friday. Miraculously, I actually heard it. Truth be told, I think that the first call stirred me a little and it was the beeping of a new text message that finally raised me from a dead sleep.

The missed call and the text message were both from Priscilla Kwan, a friend of mine who is a reporter with KPRC Channel 2. She needed me to give her a call ASAP regarding an "accident" at HFBC. Not knowing what to expect -- and somewhat fearing the details -- I gave her a call.

Priscilla explained that a pick-'em-up truck had slammed into the "Houston's First Baptist Church" sign at the base of the tower along the I-10 feeder road. She asked if I could come up there for a live interview. I was to be the "spokesperson" for the church.

Now, I'm not sure if she tells all of her interviewees this when she wakes them up and summons them to the scene in the wee hours of the morning, but Priscilla specifically said, "Don't take a shower. Just comb your hair and come!"

Uh ... right.

So as the minutes ticked by -- closer and closer to the live 5:00 a.m. broadcast -- I frantically began to get ready for my first public statement on behalf of HFBC. My first project was my hair. Even if my head were small enough to wear a hat, I'm not sure that would have been the look I would've gone with. Instead, I stuck my head in the shower to wet down the Einsteinian morning mess and then towel-dried the life out of it. Just slap on some product and the hair project was set.

My second project was my clothes. The first couple of shirts that caught my eye had horizontal stripes. With God's mercy, I had the presence of mind to calculate the impact of horizontal stripes in front of a camera notorious for adding 10 pounds. Tragedy averted. Then, my eyes fell on my 2005 Houston Project t-shirt ("pray for more") and the clothing project was concluded.

My third project was to notify friends and family. Driving through Memorial Park, I managed to text friends (or at least the ones spiritually mature enough to forgive me for a pre-5:00 a.m. message) and asked for their prayers. (Thanks to those who replied!) Then, I called Mom and Dad. I hate calling the folks at odd hours because I know that from the time they hear the first ring until the time I can explain that I am not dead, every conceivable horrific scenario goes through their minds. Bless their hearts (literally).

It was an eerie sight when I arrived at HFBC only 28 minutes after getting the call. There in the pre-dawn fog and unflattering street lights were Priscilla, Steve (the camera guy) and a pile of shattered bricks. The cops, ambulance, tow-truck and suspect had already cleared the scene. Priscilla was told that the driver of the truck suffered only "bumps and bruises" -- no serious injuries at all. Police suspect alcohol may have been involved. Please lift up this unnamed man in a prayer.

We did a live segment a little after 5:00 a.m. and then did combo live/pre-recorded segments at 5:30, 6:00 and 6:30 a.m. You can see one of the segments on the Channel 2 website.

Since I started working at HFBC in early February, I have slowly been getting my office set up and arranged. Friday morning provided me with unique and unexpected decorations. On the top of my desk's hutch, I now have mementos from my first "crisis" at work -- portions of the brick wall and the large letter H. It's a sign of a special moment in my new career here. More importantly, it's a sign that the church is more than the bricks around us. The Lord's work keeps on going!

My Unexpected Day At The Spa

While hundreds of genuine and wannabe cowboys made their way down Memorial Drive from Memorial Park to downtown for the rodeo parade last Saturday, I passed by them on the way to the spa perfectly secure in my masculinity. The fact that I was using a gift certificate -- and not paying for this on my own -- gave me further comfort as I compared my plans for the day with those of the guys clomping along on horseback facing the cold and rainy elements.

The leadership team of The Shed class at Houston's First Baptist Church gave me a gift certificate to a spa when I stepped down as director last September to teach The Real Deal. They know me so well.

So finally, I made an appointment and went in for my day of pampering last Saturday. I signed up for the Chairman's Retreat which included a massage, manicure, pedicure, facial, haircut -- and "spa lunch" (which is spaspeak for "girl food").

When I made the appointment, the kind lady asked me what I would want for lunch that day. I opted for the chicken salad sandwich since BBQ ribs were not an option. She asked what I would want to drink and I asked for a Coke. I said, "I realize that a real Coke may not go with the whole concept of a 'spa lunch' but if you try to slip a Diet Coke on me, you can count on my throwing a spa tantrum." I got my Coke.

My day at the spa did not quite go as I had expected.

Keep in mind that most patrons are women, and most are not there for hours worth of pampering. They are in-and-out for either a manicure or a haircut or a pedicure ... or whatever else women get done to themselves. Therefore, they come in in their normal clothes and stay in their normal clothes.

I, on the other hand, had five "treatments" lined up. This elevated me to a whole other level of spa patron -- the partially dressed level. Upon arriving at the spa, I had to change into a robe, a pair of drawstring pants and a cheap pair of flip-flops. As I was escorted around the spa from one station to another (with resting stops in between appointments in the men's "holding room"), there I was in my spa get-up amidst women in their normal clothes.

I felt like Mrs. Roper in her muumuu on Three's Company.

Anyway ... back to the unexpected day at the spa. Here it is in a nutshell ...

• Pedicurist was a Christian woman who attends Second Baptist. She's friends with an HFBC staff member who provides her with Bibles in different languages so she can distribute them to the different women who work at the spa. And she loves Beth Moore.
• Masseuse was a Christian woman who attends Lakewood Church. Did not get to talk to her much given the circumstances (nearly being asleep during the massage).
• Manicurist was an Asian woman. My assumption is that she is one of the women to whom Pedicurist has been reaching out to with the Bibles.
• Hair guy asked me what "religion" I was when I told him I worked for my church. I said that I was Christian and attended a Baptist church. He said that he was Baptist, too, but did not attend a church. I invited him to visit my Sunday Bible study. Pray for him, please.
• Facial lady was widowed last year. When it came up that I worked at a church, she asked about opportunities for women in her situation. God gave me some names of other widows her age in our church and I've followed up with a few of them this week in hopes of making a connection. And she loves Beth Moore, too.

Finally, the front desk manager introduced herself to me during one of my layovers in the men's "holding room." She recognized me as a new staff member at HFBC. Turns out, she and her husband teach a Sunday Bible study there. When I checked out at the end of the day (six hours after I arrived), we compared notes on all of the "divine appointments" that I had during my spa day. Plans were made for her to continue where I left off with hair guy, and we talked about ways to minister to facial lady.

I left my day at the spa with opened pores, buffed nails, relaxed muscles and manageable hair. But I also left -- unexpectedly -- reminded that ministry opportunities are all around us if we take the time to stop, look and listen to others.

Right And Wrong Is Black And White -- or Gray?

Let me be honest ... I am totally stealing this from a friend of mine who sent it out via e-mail. My friend does not have a blog, so I'm taking liberty to add it to mine. But my friend gets all the credit. However, since my friend refers to a "client" I do not want to reveal my friend's identity.

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

I was just reading an excerpt from a client's "core values" statement, which is probably fairly similar to many of corporate America's value statements. Under integrity, it says "There are no gray areas between right and wrong."

And I got to thinking - (I don't have a blog so this is my version) - that statement is totally contradictory to many Americans' personal views. But somehow when you bring the concept of right and wrong into the workplace, there's a different standard than when it refers to your personal life. But the workplace is obviously made up of these individuals who apply the gray concept to many personal moral issues - so how can the 2 coexist??

Interesting.

U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A!

Check out this screen capture from the NBC Olympics website.

I think it's safe to say that NBC and Coca-Cola are more than just a little biased toward the good ol' US of A when it comes to coverage of the Olympics.

I mean ... wow.

Support Dee

Many of you know Susan Mayoli -- a wonderful Christian sister here in the singles ministry at Houston's First Baptist Church. One of Susan's sisters in Kenya -- Dee -- is battling breast cancer.

We've set up a special blog containing e-mail updates from Dee sent over the past few months. What an incredible spirit this woman has! Not all of the e-mails have been posted yet (it's a work in progress). And now, Dee and Susan have been given access to the blog so they may be posting their own posts soon.

The blog is simply called Support Dee. I've put a link to it over there in the right margin under "My other blogs ..." so you can easily get to it at anytime.

Please keep Dee in your prayers, and be sure to post any encouraging words you may have for her on the blog!

Open For Business

For those of you who frequent the halls of Houston's First Baptist Church, you are welcome to drop by my office now anytime! I am located on the 2nd floor in the Education Suite right in the middle of the "Hall Of Pastors" -- between B. F. Riley and Joseph Leonard Gross. If you know where the Connection Center is on the 1st floor, we are basically right above that.

Being a sucker for history and heritage, I did some quick googling on the two men mentioned above. I've come up short on information about Dr. Gross. However, the caption under his picture here in the hallway says that the idea for the Star of Hope mission began during a prayer meeting in his office. He was also active in the founding of the Baptist Hospital, which later became the Memorial Hospital System and is now the Memorial Hermann Healthcare System.

My googling was more productive for B. F. Riley. Here's an excerpt from an article in the Baptist Standard commemorating the 100th anniversary of the 1900 hurricane in Galveston:

The building of First Baptist Church of Houston was destroyed. Pastor B.F. Riley had come to the church only a week earlier. At the time, the church had a membership of about 575 and a building valued at $37,000.

In the Sept. 13 Baptist Standard, Riley reported that wind and rain battered Houston and his church for 10 to 12 hours.

"Houses are demolished, and the streets are barricaded with beams, bricks and stones, trees, telegraph poles and wires," he wrote. "Among the wrecked buildings is the Baptist church. The steeple in falling carried away the whole south end of the building. The remainder is practically useless for service. Our people have suffered severely. ... I have never seen more universal desolation."

At the time, First Baptist Church of Houston was the largest in Union Baptist Association, which then listed 27 churches and covered a vast area, including Galveston.

An Extraordinary Life

I wanted to share a few moments from Marge Caldwell's memorial service today. These are some of the highlights that really stuck out to me:

• Dr. John Bisagno, HFBC Pastor Emeritus, led the Welcome and Remembrances. He said that when Marge got to heaven, they tried to give her some wings to reward her for her years of service -- but she turned those down and asked, "Could I have those gold eyelashes instead?"
  
  He reminded us that Marge served on two Pastor Search Committees at HFBC -- the one that brought us Bro. John and the one that brought us Pastor Gregg. When Marge showed up in heaven, he said, her daughter probably greeted her and asked, "What now, Mom? Looking for another pastor?"
  
  Bro. John pointed out that while everybody referred to her as Marge, Chuck called her Margie. Then, he led us all in singing the song, "Margie" written over 60 years ago:
  
  Margie, I'm always thinking of you, Margie
  I'll tell the world I love you
  Don't forget your promise to me
  I have thought of home and ring and everything.
  
  For Margie, you've been my inspiration
  Days are never blue
  After all is said and done there is really only one
  And Margie, Margie it's you.
  
  Finally, Bro. John was joined on stage by his wife, Uldine, and they sang a duet for Chuck -- "Walkin' along, singin' a song, side by side!"
  
  
• Jeannette Clift George, founder of A. D. Players, spoke about "An Extraordinary Friend." She shared how Marge was instrumental in bringing her back into the Christian life and how for so long she tried to be just like Marge. At one conference, Jeannette said she caught herself telling people about her beloved husband, Chuck! Jeannette encouraged us to have a "Marge day" -- to live out Hebrews 13:3 and "encourage one another daily, as long as it is called Today."
  
  
• Beth Moore, Bible teacher and author, spoke about "An Extraordinary Mentor." Marge was the person who first invited Beth to speak at a women's retreat, and encouraged her -- many times -- to pursue teaching and speaking. She pointed out that she had not lived one day of her ministry without Marge being in her life -- until now.
  
  Toward the end of the service, when the slide show was playing, Beth went down and sat with Chuck on the front steps of the Worship Center so he could see the show up close on the monitor. I could see them whispering things to each other as each new picture came up -- and laughing more than a few times, too.
  
  
• Gregg Matte, HFBC Pastor, delivered the message. He pointed out that there were many funerals going on throughout the city today, and most of them would focus on the "who" -- who the person was. Marge's memorial service helped us understand the "why" behind "who" she was -- her relationship with Jesus Christ.
  
  Gregg said that when he first began to think about this service, he was drawn to Psalm 116:15, which says, "Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his saints." But as he prepared, he turned the page of his Bible and saw Psalm 118:13-14:
  
  I was pushed back and about to fall, but the LORD helped me.
  The LORD is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation.
  
  Gregg shared how Marge had been "pushed back" so many times in her life -- including the final weeks of her life. But just as she had helped so many people, the LORD helped her -- and she knew it.
  
  Finally, Gregg shared that in recent weeks, the HFBC Counseling Center staff met and talked about what they were looking forward to in 2006. Marge, a member of the staff, shared that she wanted to become more like Jesus. Referring to how much Marge already looked so much like Christ, Gregg asked us, "What could Marge possibly share in an accountability group?" When Marge told her husband Chuck her goal for 2006, he wisely advised her that that would mean she would have to endure more suffering. Shortly after that, they were in the car wreck.
  
  So not only did he talk about the "why" behind the "who," but he explained the "how" as well, presenting the Gospel message and inviting people to come and talk with any of the folks on the stage after the service.
  
  
• Following a slide show set to Mark Schultz's "Remember Me", Bro. John closed us in prayer and then had everybody to reach across the aisles and hold hands as we sang, "Sweet, Sweet Spirit" -- a former tradition at the end of each service at HFBC:
  
  There's a sweet sweet spirit in this place
  And I know that it's the spirit of the Lord
  
  There are sweet expressions on each face
  And I know that it's the presence of the Lord
  
  Sweet Holy Spirit
  Sweet heavenly dove
  Stay right here with us
  Filling us with your love
  
  And for these blessings
  We lift our hearts in praise
  Without a doubt we'll know that we have been revived
  When we shall leave this place

If anybody else reading this attended the service, feel free to share the moments that you remember! I know there were many, many more!

Kiefer Sutherland Will Not Die

Watching 24 on Fox is a ride like none other on TV. Even though I have only seen the first season (on DVD), I can attest to the (literally) minute-by-minute roller-coaster of a ride that the show is. Plot twists. Double agents. Accidents. Bad guys behind every corner. You never know what is going to happen next.

But there is one thing that you do know. Kiefer Sutherland will not die.

Kiefer plays Jack Bauer, the star of the show. Each season, for 24 hours, we follow him through the minute-by-minute action of one horrific scenario. Presidential assassinations. Nuclear bombs. Terrorists threats. He has dealt with all of them (and more).

But Kiefer Sutherland will not die.

Why? Because he is the star of the show. As I watched the show on DVD with some friends, you could feel the tension in the room each time Kiefer was in a sticky situation. Chalk it up to great writing and production -- we were on the edge of our seats.

But Kiefer Sutherland will not die.

I guess the same could be said about James Bond films ... or anything starrring Harrison Ford. We know 007 isn't gonna get knocked off, and Harrison's whole career is based on being the tough guy who comes out on top. There is great freedom in knowing that. Your focus switches from being worried about the star to being thrilled by the story.

That's what the Christian life is like, too.

We know how the story ends. While we will actually die a physical death, as believers we know where we are going. There is nothing to fear! We will not truly die! Our focus switches (or should switch) from being worried about our lives to being thrilled by the story -- the eternal story unfolding around us each day, minute-by-minute. Talk about freedom!

The next time your find yourself dwelling on your self, remember this -- Kiefer Sutherland will not die!

Tribute to Marge

The HFBC Counseling Center has posted a great tribute to Marge on the HFBC website. Be sure to check it out!

Services for Marge

The Caldwell family will be having a private family burial for Marge at some point this week.

The visitation is on Thursday at Memorial Oaks Funeral Home (13001 Katy Freeway) from 5-9 pm. The memorial service will be in the HFBC Worship Center on Friday at 12 noon. The memorial service is open to the public.

Her obituary can be found in the Houston Chronicle, along with a Guest Book where people have already begun to post comments about what Marge meant to them -- as well as messages for Chuck.

I Can Only Imagine!

My first day on staff at Houston's First Baptist Church was Marge Caldwell's last day on Earth.

There is something poetic in that for me.

As a freshman at Baylor University, I was introduced to Marge when she spoke during Welcome Week as the keynote speaker for the "Social" general session.

(For those not familiar with Welcome Week, it was based on the concept of the whole person with the theme verse of Luke 2:42 -- "Jesus grew in wisdom (intellectual) and stature (physical), and in favor with God (spiritual) and men (social).")

For the next three years, I always looked forward to Marge returning to Waco to tell us about her love for Chuck, how they met, and the importance of relationships in our lives. That an elderly woman could have 2,500+ freshmen wrapped around her little finger simply amazed me.

My senior year, I served on the Welcome Week Steering Committee and had the privilege of taking Marge and Chuck to dinner before her general session. What an amazing couple! My parents were there and they still remember that dinner -- the one and only time my folks ever met the Caldwells.

Marge's joy and love for Christ encouraged me each time I heard her speak during my years at Baylor, and again each time I heard her speak during my years here at HFBC. Since I was always skeptical of large churches -- and even the Baptist denomination -- I was reluctant to ever come to HFBC. The fact that someone like Marge Caldwell called this place home made it more inviting to me. Something must be real at HFBC, I thought, if someone like her could call it home.

As I type this, Mercy Me's hit song "I Can Only Imagine" is on the radio. What is Marge doing right now? Dancing? Being still? Standing? Falling? Singing? Silent?

I can only imagine ... but if I were a betting man, my money would be on dancing ... and laughing!

My First Day

My first day at Houston's First Baptist Church was February 6. Thanks for your prayers as I've walked through the process of starting this new job -- rather, this new ministry. It's great to work at a place where you are prayed over three times before noon on your first day!

I am in a temporary office with a temporary laptop and do not have too much work to do just yet other than getting to know my team and how things work -- which is plenty of work in and of itself! After 8 years at HFBC, I know a good number of the staff members already. Learning how we all work together and what my role is in the mix -- that's another story.

When I logged on to my church e-mail account today for the first time, I had 128 items in my inbox. Since today is just my second day, I was leary of e-mail traffic that rivaled both of my last two jobs -- combined! But, as it turns out, my e-mail was added to the church staff distribution list weeks ago so those 128 e-mails were 3 weeks' worth of traffic. Not bad.

For those of you who attend HFBC, let me say this ... even in just the two days that I've been here, I have been tremendously blessed by the warmth of the other staff members, the excitement and passion they have about their jobs, and the desire they have to make improvements where needed (especially as it relates to communications). As a lay member, I've always had great respect for our church staff. Now, from a "behind the scenes" viewpoint, it's great to see just how well-deserved that respect truly is!

My Last Day

My last day of making cancer history at M. D. Anderson was January 27. Thanks to all of you who prayed for me that day so I wouldn't "lose it" like I thought I would. No tears were shed on my part, but there were a few from my co-workers. And I have to admit that I choked up as I walked out of the building for the last time. M. D. Anderson is a phenomenal place and I had the privilege or working with a talented and fun team.

For my "farewell" party, co-workers really went all out. In the background, there was a slide show of pictures from throughout the past few years, accompanied by well-selected music. My co-workers had picked up on things I had said in the last few weeks and built a "soundtrack" for the occasion with songs I liked or that had special meaning -- such as "Hail To The Chief" and "Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You" and "We Got The FUnk" and more.

For food, there were two bowls of punch -- one gold and one green (Sic 'Em Bears!). The cake was red, white and blue and was set up in front of the "SWM 2008" poster from my surprise birthday party in 2003 (which I had kept in my office ever since).

For a memento, they had people sign a book or send in stories or well wishes that they compiled into a scrapbook for me. Not knowing they were going to do that, I brough my white labcoat for people to sign -- the labcoat that I kept in my office and threatened to put on any time I needed respect or authority. (That's a "hospital thing" if you don't get the joke.)

So ... my last day was a good day. Until the last 10 minutes.

As I was finishing up the mass-deletion of files and programs off my laptop, I accidentally deleted several important folders -- not just files, but folders filled with files. It was about 6:00 pm on a Friday when this happened, so everybody else had already left for the weekend. So, on Monday, as I was on the road to my "pre-sabbatical" in the Hill Country, I called the tech guy and asked if we had a backup of the files. We did. Thank God. My reputation was spared!