One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue ... what in the world IS that thing?

If you're like me on long flights, you doze in and out of sleep capturing a glimpse here and there of all that's going on in the cabin around you. Now, imagine opening your eyes during one of your more lucid moments to find this hanging off the passenger's ponytail in front of you:



That's what happened to some poor folks on a flight from Peru to the United States. Kinda reminds me of this guy:

Welcome to the country!

Amanda and I closed on our new home today. I'm not sure when I'll move in, but Amanda and Braden for sure will not move in until after the wedding.

So for now, I can say that I have a city home and a house in the country. I like saying that.

After we closed, we drove by the house and around the neighborhood. We spotted a woman walking her dog -- and a bird. That's right. She was walking a bird. She carried a perch of some kind in her gloved hand, and had a bird (on a chain) sitting on the perch.

And people tell me inner-loopers are weird.

Now THAT is bootylicious!

On our way to Amanda's parents' house the other night, a car entered the freeway just before I did. But in this case, to use the term "car" is like using the term "house" to describe Versailles or the Biltmore Estate.

No, my friends. This was no mere car. This was a Rolls Royce Phantom.

Sure, this wasn't the first Rolls Royce I had ever come across. Living in Houston, it isn't all that unusual -- especially when the local Rolls Royce dealership is just a few miles from my home and conveniently located on my route to Amanda's house. Every time I drive by, my heart goes out to those poor little cars desparate to find a home. Some people get misty-eyed at animal shelters. I tear up driving by the Rolls dealership.

So there we were ... just a few feet behind this beautiful specimen on the open freeway. I did my best to keep up with it -- partially so I could behold its beauty, and partially so I could see who was driving it. (Just who do they think they are? And would they be my friend?)

We managed to stay on its tail from US-59 and Kirby to somewhere near UH on I-45. Once or twice, we even came alongside the creature and were able to stare into its eyes. And by that, I mean we stared into its windows to see who was at the wheel.

Amanda and I are 99.9% sure that it was Beyonce's parents. Just the day before, I saw a special on TV about Beyonce so I had a fresh visual in my mind about what they looked like. That evening, some googling confirmed our assumptions.

Gee whiz, Beyonce. Thanks for showing us up! Among the things my parents got for Christmas this year were some Starbucks coffee, a shirt or two, a flower pot from the Mad Potter (with Braden's thumbprints as the flowers), and a "Hillary" nutcracker courtesy of my brother and sister-in-law.

It may not be as classy as a Rolls, but at least nobody is going to chase them down to get a good look.

An unpleasant diversion

On Monday, I began to feel a sharp pain in my lower abdomen. I chalked it up to possibly pulling something while packing and moving heavy boxes into my PODS unit on Sunday. But on Monday evening when I went to bed, I could not get warm -- tossing and turning with the chills. Now, I've had about as many pulled muscles in my life as I've had athletic accomplishments, but I'm pretty sure that pulled muscles don't result in a fever.

On Tuesday, the pain was sharp and somewhat debilitating, making it difficult to stand up and even to walk. I tried to get in to my doctor, but he wasn't available until Wednesday morning. So, I decided to suck it up and ride out the pain until then.

Amanda, however, had other plans. On Tuesday night, she convinced me that I needed to go to the ER. She consulted with her father (a veterinarian) about my symptoms and he, too, recommended the same action plan. The likely diagnosis? Appendicitis.

So, around 7:30 pm, Amanda picked me up and off we went to Memorial Hermann Northwest on the north 610 Loop.

The only other time I had been to an ER was in October 1989 after I fell asleep at the wheel on I-45 north of Huntsville and rolled over. I was a little out of it, to say the least, so I do not have many memories of it -- other than the Codeine-enhanced ride home to Baytown with Mom and Dad. (Yummy!)

While Amanda ooh-ed and aah-ed over the sick babies, I did my best to sit still and not be mistaken for one. I'll confess right up front that I am a baby when I'm sick. A big ol' baby who just wants to curl up under the covers and call it a day. Granted, that's not a good look on a man -- especially when that man still felt a sense of responsibility to protect his woman from the ne'er-do-wells in the ER. It wasn't time for me to let my guard down ... yet.

The good folks in the ER checked me in, drew my blood, and took a ... um ... sample in a cup. Fortunately, the sample cup came with written instructions. Detailed instructions. VERY detailed instructions -- with diagrams, too. That there are people in this world who need step-by-step help in order to pee in a cup troubles me greatly.

Around 9:00 pm, the real waiting began. During our temporary residence in the holding area, I stayed warm under a sheet provided by a nurse and Amanda resolved to pay more attention to the 2008 presidential election. She was convinced that she was witnessing first-hand all that is wrong with the American healthcare system. Finally, at 11:45 pm, my name was called.

I'll spare you the long story, but after two vanilla-flavored barium drinks, a CT scan, and IVs with pain killers and antibiotics, I dodged a bullet. The doctor was able to rule out appendicitis -- a potential outcome that would have required me to check-in to the hospital and possibly have surgery within a few hours. (When he said surgery was a possibility, I asked if he could do a little liposuction while he was down there.) Instead, he determined that I had acute diverticulitis.

To be honest with you, I think Amanda and I were both a little disappointed at the diagnosis.

For me, I knew that having surgery for appendicitis would have made for a better blog entry. Diverticulitis may be a little too personal, and certainly not a pleasant topic of conversation. For her, she missed out on getting a kiss -- something she promised (threatened?) to give me before they took me into the operating room if it came to that. "Just in case I never see you again!" Thanks for the encouragement, sweetheart! =)

My next reaction? Praise the Lord it's nothing more serious! A prescription for some antibiotics and pain killers was all I took home with me that night -- no scars or bandages. The only thing I left at the hospital that night was a little bit of my pride. In addition to the medications, the doctor told me to use Metamucil every day -- from now on.

The trauma of being prescribed Metamucil was compounded by the fact that when I received the orders, I was wearing my hospital gown with my black dress socks. Not only was I facing an "old man's" medical condition and being told to add an "old man's" supplement to my diet, but I was dressed like an "old man," too.

The good news? Amanda witnessed it all and she still wants to marry me.


EXTRA BONUS STORY!
For those of you who have read this entire post, here's an added bonus. The ER nurse shared a story with us about a relative of hers who has to have a colonoscopy every year. The relative also has a neighbor with a yapping, barking, high-energy little dog who often gets into their backyard.

One year, while this relative was preparing for the procedure the next day by drinking "Go Lightly" (a "bowel prep liquid") to clear out his system, he decided that he had had enough. So, the next morning, he soaked a biscuit in the remaining few sips of the "Go Lightly" liquid and placed it by the hole where the annoying dog entered their yard.

When he came home from work that afternoon, he looked over the fence to see the results of his scheme. I won't go into details here like the nurse did with us, but rest assured that that dog never came through that hole in their fence again. It learned its lesson!

Adventures with Coffee

A couple of stories from our attempt to find coffee on Friday night ...

Adventure #1
Amanda and I went to the POPS concert at Jones Hall with my family on Friday night. Afterwards, she and I decided to go somewhere for some coffee since it wasn't very late and since Braden with with her parents that evening. A perfect setting for a spontaneous "date" with each other.

Since Daily Grind now closes at some ridiculously early hour, I decided to try a place I had seen further down on Washington Avenue closer to downtown. It was a bit of a risk since I had never been before, but what the heck -- let's give it a try.

As we drove past it, we slowed down to look inside. The lights were on and there were at least 10-12 people sitting around at tables. Good sign.

So, we parked in the back parking lot and entered through the back door. That entrance opened into a small hallway where the restrooms were located. Amanda stopped by the ladies' room and I proceeded to go through the next door into the main room.

Since the counter was on my left, my attention immediately turned to the large menu board. The clerk politely informed me that they would be closing in about 20 minutes, but I continued to look over the available drinks.

However, I was greatly disturbed and uneasy. I knew that there were several people in the room, but it was practically dead silent. Since my back was to the tables as I looked over the menu, I really couldn't assess what was going on.

Was my fly open?
Had I crashed a private party?
Had they mistaken me for Matthew McConaughy?

So, I casually put my hands in my pockets, looked down at my feet, and tried to act all "breezy" as I waited for Amanda to come out. Then, as effortlessly as possible, I looked up to face the silent crowd, not knowing what I would discover.

As it turns out, the coffee shop that night was filled with 10-12 deaf people -- all of whom were actively engaged in lively discussions with one another over lattes and mochas. The silence had nothing to do about me at all. I went back into the hallway where the restrooms were located and waited for Amanda. I explained that the shop was closing in 20 minutes, and suggested we try to find another place. Then I told her what had transpired.

Bless my heart.

Adventure #2
In search of coffee, we drove by the obligatory Cafe Brasil (one of my least favorite places) and quickly crossed it off the list. There was a band playing -- one of the reasons I don't care for the place. Too small and too loud. Empire Cafe looked promising, but they, too, were closing in about 10 minutes. (Since when is 11:00 pm the standard closing time?)

Not wanting to hang out at a Starbucks, I asked Amanda if Mama's Cafe were OK with her. (I do love me some of their cinnamon coffee!) She said that it was, but admitted that since she only likes fancy-schmancy coffee drinks, there really isn't much there for her. So, we drove through Starbucks to get her a Peppermint White Chocolate Mocha.

As we walked up to Mama's, Amanda asked if I were sure that she could bring the Peppermint White Chocolate Mocha in with her. "No problem," I assured her. "This place is very casual -- they won't mind."

Not two seconds later, we enter the front door and see a sign that says "No outside beverages" posted right inside. It was on 8.5 x 11 paper and taped to the door. Clearly, this was a new policy courtesy of the Mama's Cafe management.

Amanda was reluctant to break the rules, but in a momentary lapse of leadership, I encouraged her to hide the Peppermint White Chocolate Mocha and bring it in. So as not to look too suspicious as we debated the risks inside the vestibule with the host looking at us through the glass doors, I quickly opened the door and asked for a booth for two.

Amanda slyly walked with her Peppermint White Chocolate Mocha down by her side. I was reminded of a Seinfeld episode in that moment -- the one where Raquel Welch plays herself and is criticized for not swinging her arms when she walks.

We get to our booth and Amanda quickly places her contraband Peppermint White Chocolate Mocha in the corner, blocked from view by her purse and jacket.

Thanks to a slow waitress, we had time to plan our strategy for how Amanda will be able to drink her Peppermint White Chocolate Mocha. We would BOTH order coffee, and I would drink hers first -- very quickly. Then, she would poor her Peppermint White Chocolate Mocha into her cup. Genius! Right?

Well, we didn't plan out all of the details. I ordered my cinnamon coffee, and then Amanda ordered plain coffee. ("Oh no," I thought, "I'll have to drink plain unflavored coffee!") When the coffee came, I did my best to drink her cup -- but it was REALLY hot and REALLY dark.

Amanda suggested that we pour the coffee into her water glass. I suggested that I poor it into one of the potted plants nearby. We opted for the water glass option -- creating what looked like a cup of iced tea. If the waitress were paying any attention at all, she may wonder where that glass of tea had come from.

Our solution? Put it on the floor and out of site. We did not account for how to explain the missing water glass if the waitress were to come and refill. Fortunately, the waitress did not seem to be playing with a full deck that night and never said a word.

But we couldn't make the transfer just yet. The waitress had not brought us any creamer, so for Amanda to suddenly have an obviously creamed cup of coffee may look suspicious. Even though the waitress was somewhat spaced out and unlikely to notice, we asked for creamers.

Now, with an empty coffee cup ready to receive her mocha and creamers on the table, Amanda proceeded to make the transfer from the Starbucks cup to the Mama's mug. She did so off to the side against the wall below the table top where nobody could see.

And then she shrieked!

The lid popped off her Starbucks cup, spilling half of her Peppermint White Chocolate Mocha onto her jacket and the floor below. The other half made it into the Mama's mug. We scrambled for napkins to absorb the flood, soaking up what was on the floor and on Amanda's seat.

I was reminded of another Seinfeld episode -- the one when Kramer smuggles a latte into the movie theater inside his pants.

The Starbucks cup held the used napkins, and we even managed to poor the "iced tea" into it as well. By the time the waitress returned, all she saw was two cups of coffee (one with creamer) and two empty water glasses (both with a little ice since we dumped some of mine into Amanda's). The waitress was none the wiser.

OK, sure, it's not like we really got away with anything spectacular -- bit the antics of it all were fun. And since we may have caused our waitress some grief after we left due to the hidden mess we had made, we gave her a nice big "Merry Christmas!" tip. You may call it a "guilt tip" but it's still money in her hands this time of year.

Permanent "Man Card" status?

Forgot to tell you ...

Last Monday, I took Braden to buy a few Christmas presents. As we were about to leave, I heard two of the staff members shrieking in the back by the service exit door. My initial thought: Somebody is trying to break in or attack one of the workers, taking advantage of the dark alley behind the building!

I looked around the corner and saw that the back door was open. One of the young ladies was looking outside and asking if the other were OK. My next thought: There was only a mild degree of panic, so there must not be an intruder. The other employee must be hurt and needs help!

As I approached the door, I saw that the presumed-injured employee was standing outside the door, apparently in perfect health. My CSI skills detected that they were both looking in the same direction toward a spot on the ground about six feet from the door. My next thought: These silly little girls saw a harmless mouse and are overreacting a bit, if you ask me.

I could not see anything in the dark shadows. Since I had approached the scene and was standing right next to them (with Braden in tow), I felt obliged to ask if everything were OK. My next thought: When they tell me they saw a mouse, Lord, please give me the strength not to laugh.

"It's a snake!" one of them shrieked. Sure enough, that nearly indistinguishable dark mass there in the shadows was a coiled up snake. While we could have left well enough alone, an inner urge inside of me swelled up and the need -- yes, the need -- to neutralize the threat took over. My next thought: Must ... kill ... snake!

The serpent was about 18 inches long, although it will grow to about five feet in a few years when I retell this story every time I go in to Mad Potter. One of the employees handed me a sponge mop handle at first, but that really only served to annoy the demon. It started coming back toward the doorway as if it were taunting me. I traded in the sponge mop handle for a heavy metal display fixture of some kind. With my new weapon in hand, I set about to crush the serpent. It took a few blows to finish the job since it kept trying to slither away ... but it was not match for me, I tell you what. My next thought: I am a hero!

The employees thanked me for saving their lives. As we came back into the store, none of the other customers seemed to have a clue about what had transpired -- about how I had rescued them from living out a scene from Anaconda or any snake-based SciFi Channel movie-of-the-week. My next thought: Those SciFi Channel movies sure are lame, aren't they?

My second-to-last thought of the evening was, "Well, this should really earn me a life-time 'Man Card' -- I can't wait to tell Hilburn!" My final thought, though, was, "I wonder if the fact that all of this went down at The Mad Potter will negate my heroism and my permanent 'Man Card' eligibility?"

You decide.

Violet Beauregarde: Smuggler?

I called the wrecker service in Falfurrias. (There's a phrase I've never said before.) The kind receptionist confirmed that the Explorer was, indeed, used to smuggle illegal aliens. Nice.

And even though I explained that I am no longer the owner, she said that -- by law -- she has to mail me a second notice "41 days" from the date it was impounded. However, she says that I do not have to take any action at all. I'm not totally at ease with that, so I may try to track down a more reassuring resolution.

On top of that, I just received the vehicle registration renewal notice for the now-impounded Explorer. The kind lady at Paul Bettencourt's office said that I could disregard the notice, but that I should fill out and mail in form VTR 346 to notify the state that I no longer own this car. Ah ... government!

It's a sad end for this faithful 1995 Explorer.

It was my brother's car until he handed it down to me a few years ago. Those of you who ever saw it know that Jeff had an affinity for the color blue: blue paint, blue seats, blue dashboard, blue radio. I often felt like I was Violet Beauregarde in the Chocolate Factory.

Big and blue. Very, very blue.

I am NOT a smuggler!

I received a certified letter in the mail the other day. Actually, I received the postcard that says they tried to deliver a certified letter and that I would have to go to the post office to pick it up. Ugh.

In the midst of buying a house, I figured it may have something to do with the loan approval or one of the many other steps involved in the process. So, I added "Stop by the Post Office" to my list of errands to run on Friday as I dealt with house-related tasks and prepared for Murray Christmas that night.

The letter was from a wrecker service in Falfurrias, Texas. Clearly, not a part of the loan process.

Apparently, the paperwork for the car I sold to CarMax over 6 months ago was never fully processed. In the eyes of the State of Texas, that car still belongs to me. And from their point of view, I left it abandoned on the side of a highway in the Valley. I'm sure they've come to all sorts of great conclusions as to what I may have been doing with an SUV just a few miles from the border -- and why I would have left it on the side of the road. Nice.

When I called CarMax to ask why this would have happened, the woman who answered was completely non-chalant about the situation -- as if it happens all the time. No sound of shock in her voice, no indication that she was surprised this could have happened -- and certainly nothing even close to an apology on behalf of the company.

Apparently, it's up to me to prove to the good folks in Falfurrias that I do not own the car anymore. She said I would need to provide the wrecker service with proof of sale. Little does she know that I am not one for the record-keeping and that as soon as I cashed the check from CarMax, that car was out of my life for good. Who needs a paper trail? If I can't find the receipt, I have to "physically come down to CarMax" (her words) and get a copy. Nevermind fax machines or PDF files.

So, add this to the list of my All-Time Greatest Hassles that I have to resolve.

Stakes In The Ground

For those of you who have ever put a stake in the ground to boldly proclaim your position on something, let my story serve as a cautionary tale of what may very well happen to you:

Old Me: Living outside the Loop is ... well, I don't know what it is, but it's NOT really "living."

New Me: I already have plans for where I'll hang Christmas lights next year on our new house outside Beltway 8. We found a place in Ashford Village (west of Kirkwood, south of Briar Forest, north of Westheimer, east of Dairy Ashford). We close in late December and we'll move in after the wedding. I can already taste the farm fresh eggs and produce out in the country!

Old Me: Amanda will never get to see my master bedroom -- and especially not the closet. It's too messy and embarrassing to share with anybody.

New Me: Amanda was the best helpmate I could have ever had! In a few hours, we had cleaned out the closet and most of the room.

Old Me: "Happy Birthday, Jesus" is the most annoying Christmas song ever recorded. Ever.
New Me: I turn up the radio louder when the song is on so Braden can sing along to his favorite Christmas song. Makes me smile every time. (For the record, I am still holding on to my stake in the ground about the "Christmas Shoes" song.)

So ... what are your stakes in the ground? Better make sure they're in there nice and tight -- or be prepared for some big (and great) changes!

Class of 2015?

I have much more to share about our trip to Baylor's homecoming this past weekend, but for now, I wanted to share this picture from Amanda and Braden's first bonfire! Sic 'Em!

That's my (soon to be) boy!

Amanda and I attended our first couples event with our Married Young Adults class last night. It was a "Bring Your Own Pumpkin" party where each couple carved their own creation. Since Braden was with us, we let him choose the design. His choice? A big 48 to represent Jimmie Johnson (his favorite NASCAR driver).

So, I cut a hole in the top of the pumpkin and gave Braden an ice cream scoop to gut it out. Since Amanda had no interest in touching the yucky stuff ("It will get on my ring and I can't take it off because my pants don't have any pockets!") and we were only give 20 minutes to make our creations, I reassigned Braden to the task of picking out the seeds from the goop as I scraped it out and dumped it on the floor.

The next task was to carve out the 48. Not having a pencil, I did it freehand style. Like a sculptor says, you just cut away everything that doesn't look like a 48.

After I carved out the 4, it dawned on me that the 8 would be more of a challenge. Without the centers of each loop, we risked the 8 looking like a snowman. But alas, my untapped pumpkin carving skills came through. As a final touch, I threw in a Lowe's logo (Jimmie Johnson's sponsor) on one side and the initials "JJ" on the other.

The original plans to pick the winner of the carving contest were scrapped at the last minute for a new plan. Instead of using adult judges, the decision was made to let Braden and Jocelyn (JT and Jennifer's 3-year old daughter) pick their favorites.

("We're sure to win now!" I thought to myself. "But how scary is it that I care so much about winning a pumpkin carving contest? Lord, please don't let me grow up to be THAT kind of dad!")

Braden and Jocelyn made the rounds looking at all the pumpkins. Finally, Braden announced his favorite. Surprisingly, he did not pick our own creation. And surprisingly, I couldn't have been more proud of him.

Why? Because he chose a pumpkin with "BU" carved in it--a tribute to Baylor University carved by Chris McGuirk and Jennifer Eveland. (For the record, there was an "A&M" pumpkin, too, and neither child chose it.)

So, my hard work on Braden's behalf may not have been his favorite, but that's OK with me. He made the right choice! I just pray he makes the same choice in about 13 years!

If it were a snake ...

On Saturday, I was expecting a very important delivery of capital campaign materials. The plan was for the delivery guy to call me on my cell phone since I would already be at church for a Summit Ministries prayer breakfast (for the capital campaign, actually). When the estimated delivery time came and went without a phone call, I contacted the man behind all of our beautiful campaign materials to see what the story was.

According to their records, the delivery was made at 10:30 am and signed for by an HFBC staff member in our print shop. Since I did not have a key for the print shop, Ricky (our Facilities Director) came up to church to let me in. But lo and behold, we could not find the boxes anywhere in the print shop. Ricky got on his walkie-talkie to ask if anybody in earshot knew about the boxes. Clarence replied. As it turns out, they had already moved the boxes (eight in total) to my office.

Here’s the rest of the story …

I had been sitting in my office since about 11:00 am making the above-mentioned phone calls while sending e-mails. The entire time, the boxes were less than 6 feet from my chair. During the more than two hours in my office, I had to walk by them every time I got up to go to the restroom, to look for the boxes, and so on.

So … there you have it. I felt like an idiot. (Think this might mean my office is too cluttered to begin with?)

Bless my heart.

Hail To The Chief (?)

I've moved in to a larger office here at work. Or at least on Tuesdays until about 5:30 pm.

My inkblots are all grown up

My niece and nephew turned 13 this week. Some of you may remember when they were born. I sure do.

It was 1994 and I was staffed in Miami on my first out-of-town project with Accenture (then Andersen Consulting). Since they were born on a Monday, I had to wait until Friday evening to see them. And since Al Gore's invention--the internet--had not quite caught on, my parents had no way of sending me any photographs.

I had to settle for a faxed copy of one of their first pictures. There it sat framed on my desk in Miami--a black-and-white fuzzy image that looked more like a Rorschach inkblot than two newborn bundles of joy.

Now, it is such a joy to see them totally embrace Braden (and Amanda, too, of course). Everytime I call, they always ask about him. Everytime we're together, they cannot get enough of him. At Kyle's birthday party at the Astros game, Braden hung out with his soon-to-be cousins and Kyle's friends. At Kristin's party, her girlfriends were excited to meet the little guy she has been talking about so much. They did their best to get Braden to do some of his dance moves for them, too.

I sure do love my two stinkin' adorable inkblots! Happy birthday, Kyle & Kristin!

Twinkies are Fruit

While in the Nashville area for a conference, a group of us from Houston headed to Dotson's Restaurant for dinner in historic downtown Franklin.

It's listed as a "meat and three" place and that's what I had -- meat and three sides. Meat loaf, green beans, mac 'n' cheese, and sweet potato casserole, to be exact. I should have journaled before I ate. That dinner changed my life.

I was impressed by the selection of vegetables from which to choose. In addition to my three choices above, they had white beans, lima beans, baby carrots, fried okra, scalloped tomatoes, turnip greens, spinach, beets, squash, cream corn ... and Jello.

Our group wondered if the Jello was in the form of a Jello mold with broccoli or peas or cauliflower floating in it -- anything to justify calling it a vegetable. Nobody was willing to waste one of their "and three" choices on a dare, so we'll never know.

Punxsutawney, schmunxsutawney!

Groundhog Day is just silly, right? Clearly, the behavior patterns of an underground critter have no bearing on the climatic conditions of an entire nation -- or on anywhere, for that matter.

So, February 2 needs a new claim to fame.

There it is on the calendar, an innocent victim in the mad rush to the all-consuming Valentines Day less than two weeks away. Target and Walgreens have their heart-shaped candy boxes and sappy greeting cards up as soon as New Year's Eve is over (if not sooner). The Groundhog Day merchandise hardly gets any time to shine! Bless its heart.

That's why Amanda and I have chosen to take back February 2 -- to give it a distinction worthy of having! That's the day we're getting married: February 2, 2008. (Pretty sure it's at 5:00 pm.)

So, move over Punxsatawney Phil! The jig is up. Your 15 minutes are over. People ain't buyin' what you're sellin', bro. Let's give people something to REALLY celebrate on February 2!


(Well, at least our family will celebrate, right?)

I am redeemed!

If you read the post about the Damsel in Distress and Dude in a Dilemma, please read this post:

Last night, Amanda called me shortly after I got home from having dinner with her and Braden. It was about 8:30 pm and she was stranded on the shoulder of an overpass on the 610 Loop in the Galleria area. The car had run out of gas. It was dark. It was raining. And she had a four-year old in the back seat.

This situation called for my husband duties to kick in a few months early.

It dawned on me that I was being given a chance to redeem myself from the flat tire incident. Unlike the previous incident on that bright, sunny Sunday morning in the park in a rarely-used driveway with birds chirping and gentle breezes caressing our skin, this new damsel-in-distress situation would be a REAL test -- a woman and child stranded on a highway on a dark and rainy night with cars and trucks and 18-wheelers flying by at over 60 miles per hour.

As I left the house, I wished I had a cape.

About 30 minutes after she called, we were safely at a gas station filling up the car so she could be on her way home. Kudos to Amanda for never once panicking, and kudos to Braden for being brave and courageous (something we had prayed for the night before during the proposal).

Hilburn ... I would like my "man card" back now, please.

The very best post I've ever made ... EVER

I am down-right, beside-myself, thrilled-beyond-words, giddy-like-a-kid-on-Christmas-morning happy to tell you that I am officially engaged!

The big moment went down last night in the HFBC Worship Center. Yesterday was Amanda’s 31st birthday, so we made plans to go to dinner. When I picked her up, I told her, "Honey, I hate to be "that guy" but I have to run up to work. I forgot to leave something on somebody's desk." She was very understanding, so we headed that way.

Since it was raining, I knew she wouldn’t want to get out of the car and come in with me. (Like me, she is very concerned about her hair getting too big when wet.) So, I mentioned that the Worship Center stage was set up beautifully for a taping that was taking place on Tuesday. "Is it 'wedding' beautiful? Could I get some ideas?" she asked. "Yes! You should come in and see!" Problem solved.

We went to my office, took care of the fake errand, and then walked into the choir loft from the 2nd floor entrance. The house lights were all down and only the stage was lit. Free-standing panels blocked her view of the set-up with two chairs and some candles. Once she saw that the candles were already lit, she knew this wasn't for a taping the next day!

Here's what happened next: I read Proverbs 31 to her, shared some personal words, got down on one knee, presented the ring (with 31 stones) to her and asked her if she would marry me. (In case you're not following along, she said "yes.") Then we went down to the prayer rail and read through a prayer guide I had prepared. As we returned to the stage, Watermark's "Made for You" began playing and we danced while rose petals rained on us from up above.

When the song ended, I told her I forgot something and went off stage down one of the ramps where Laura Bell (Amanda's roommate) was waiting with Amanda's four-year old son, Braden. (They had been watching the whole thing from the back of the Worship Center.) I brought Braden out to Amanda and explained to him what I had just done and what it meant – that mommy would be my wife and that I would be his daddy. Using a prayer guide prepared in advance, I prayed for Braden and blessed him. Then, I presented him with a statue of a father and son – and he did not want to put it down, despite our fears that he might break it!

Since it was Amanda's birthday, I told her that the ring was for the engagement, but the Bible that I read Proverbs 31 from was for her birthday. I presented the Bible to her – with "Amanda G. Murray" inscribed on the cover.

Finally, I told them both that I had one more surprise in store. I went off stage again and returned with my alto saxophone that I've had since my sophomore year in high school. Since my schedule this weekend and yesterday was much busier than anticipated, I ended up having to sight read the song for only the 2nd time right then and there! Despite missing more than a few notes along the way, she could still make it out – "The Best Is Yet To Come." And it surely is!

A couple of other moments to share:

• When I got down on one knee, Laura Bell explained to Braden that I was asking his mommy to marry me. He said, "Now?" and took off running toward the stage. He knows that he will be a part of the wedding, so he must have thought that THIS was the wedding and that he was missing out! Fortunately, LB caught him before he made it to the stage.


• At the prayer rail, I discovered that I had placed the "test" copy of the prayer guide for me to use with one side printed upside down. Oh, the irony!


• When we were done on stage and chatting with the folks who had helped out, Braden tried playing the saxophone. He kept pressing the buttons over and over again. "It's not working!" he exclaimed. He missed the whole part about having to blow into it.


• Finally, when we left the church, we discovered that Amanda's car had been broken into in the church parking lot. Her work backpack was stolen, but there was nothing valuable inside -- unless you consider a broken pair of heels and some control-top undergarments valuable!

Thanks to Laura Bell (all-around secret agent and baby-sitter), Micah Dene (rose petal dropper), Becky Smith (decorator), Lincoln and Priscilla Goodwin (sound technicians), and Chad Hamm and Don Munton (plastic bag installers on broken car window) for their help!

A Damsel in Distress and a Dude in a Dilemma

Sunday was Amanda's week to volunteer in Extended Teaching Care at church during the morning services. She loves the opportunity to hold the newborn babies. If I were her, I would love the fact that volunteers are not permitted to change the diapers. That is a paid worker's duty (no pun intended). But I digress ...

So, we decided that I would go to morning church, too, and we planned for her to pick me up just before 9:00 am since I'm on her way to HFBC.

Well, just before 9:00 am Amanda called me. I assumed she was going to tell me she was on her way. Instead, she told me she was stranded in Memorial Park with a flat tire.

This is the part of the story where those of you who know me well are probably thinking to yourself, "Oh no! What's he going to do?" Or, perhaps you thought, "Oh no! Why did Amanda call Steven?"

From my perspective, this is the part of the story where I am suddenly torn between all of the societal pressures to be "that guy" -- the superhero boyfriend who can do it all -- and reality.

Since I was dressed and ready to go, I told her I would be there in a minute. I rounded up my Bible and all the things that would go in a man-bag if they were socially acceptable (phone, keys, sunglasses, iPod, wallet, loose change). All the while, I'm thinking of solutions to the problem. (The tire problem -- not the man-bag problem. Besides, there was a story on the TODAY show that morning about man-bags, so I had some options in mind for that dilemma.)

On the short drive to reach Amanda, I called Option #1 - Memorial Car Care Center at Memorial and 610. Nope -- closed on Sundays.

When I reached the damsel in distress, she was all smiles (as usual) and we couldn't help but laugh at the situation -- not only for the timing of it all, but for what I think we both knew would somehow turn in to a great story.

As we sat in the air-conditioned luxury of my car and watched sweaty people running by, I explained how this was all going to go down:

Yes, I can change the tire. I know how to do that. (In my mind, however, I wondered if foreign cars were any different or more difficult. If that were the case, we were hosed.) However, we are both pretty and ready for church. If I were to change the tire, I would have to go home, shower, and change clothes. That would make us miss the worship service.

Being the wonderful woman she is, she totally understood -- and agreed.

So, we tried Option #2 -- the Shell station across from the Memorial Car Care Center. Nope -- we would have to have it towed to them to change it. That's retarded.

Then Amanda came up with the winning solution -- an ingenious idea that cost nothing (except for a nice dinner and a few hits to my pride). We called David Hilburn.

I dialed his number on my phone and then quickly gave it to her, thinking he would be more responsive to a damsel in distress than a dude. As the phone rang, we realized that my name would come up on his caller ID -- so we hoped he wouldn't notice. Turns out, he wasn't too far away and he said he would gladly come and help her.

Since Amanda did not reveal that I was already on the scene -- and since he did not ask about the caller ID -- Hilburn was surprised to see me when he got there. His first thought was that he would be off the hook since I was there to help.

Wrong.

After some ridicule and threats to blog about it all, Hilburn got to work. Keep in mind that I did help some -- taking the spare and the tools out of the trunk, giving verbal support from the sidelines, and telling Amanda that it's probably not a good idea to lean on a car that is up on a jack. All very valuable contributions, if you ask me.

With the spare "doughnut" in place, we were ready to go.

As Hilburn drove away, he showed me his laptop and said, "All I have to do is find a place with WiFi and I'm posting about this!" You can read his version of the story here.

In "Roles Of A Man" taught by Don Munton (Minister to Single Adults), we learn that a man's role is to provide, protect, teach and guide. I would like to think that I did just that, even if I didn't get dirty. When it was all said and done, Amanda had four tires, she made it to the worship service on time, and she was still pretty -- and so was her boyfriend.

What more could a woman want? (Can I get an "AMEN!" Please?)

A few pics from the road

A couple of items from our trip to Colorado:

A bag of chips I had for lunch had an expiration date of 9/11. "What's the big deal?" you ask? If you don't know, then you don't know my life. Here's some background: August 9, August 12, August 16.



Here's an example of horrible layout and design from a restaurant menu:

Since it's hard to read, let me type it out for you:

Great Kids Menu

• Beer, Wine & Select Premium Spirits
• Try our homemade specialty drinks like the Dogwood Tea, Cactus Pear Margarita and our famous Hurricane!

I don't think that's what they had in mind.

Besides, we were in Colorado ... not Louisiana.

A tempting offer

A representative from a local radio station presented a proposal to me today for a potential radio ad campaign for HFBC. It was a follow-up to a previous meeting weeks ago.

At the end of the presentation, she shared an additional incentive with me.

She spoke with her general sales manager and he agreed that if we sign on with them, they would never again play "Happy Birthday, Jesus" on the air. And, even though they could not offer the same with the Christmas shoes song due to its inexplicable popularity, he did agree not to play the song anywhere near one of our radio spots.

This over may be too good to pass up!

"Say 'Cheese!'" ... or ... "Um, where does the cheese go?"

Today, a digital camera I ordered for work arrived from Amazon. Inside the box was the invoice, packaging materials ... and a coupon for 55 cents off one (1) package of Hormel Natural Choice Deli Meat.

The coupon also includes a recipe for a bagelwich. Here are the directions:

"To assemble bagelwich, layer bottom half of bagel with lettuce leaf, cheese slices, tomato slices, bell pepper rings, ham slices, and alfalfa sprouts. Cover with top half of bagel."

If somebody needs directions to make a sandwich, I would like to see him trying to figure out using a digital camera for the first time.

The coupon also made me wonder -- why in the world was there a coupon for deli meat with a digital camera? Does market research indicate that people who buy digital cameras are also deli meat consumers? On Amazon.com, they do a great job recommending items to buy based on previous searches and purchases.

But for the record, I have never searched for meat online. Not once.

What a wonder-full world!

The validity of the poll may leave some room for doubt, but here are the "New Seven Wonders Of The World" as determined by an international audience:

• The Great Wall of China
• Rome's Colosseum
• India's Taj Mahal
• Jordan's Petra
• Peru's Machu Picchu
• Brazil's Statue of Christ Redeemer (sweet!)
• Mexico's Chichen Itza pyramid

(You'll notice that these are all man-made "wonders" of our world. The website linked above reveals that another poll is underway to determine the seven natural wonders. I'm pullin' for you, Buffalo Bayou!)

So, here's my question:

• If you had to round out the "New Ten Wonders Of The World" with three additional man-made marvels, what would they be? Feel free to submit more than three.

Move over, Billy Ray Cyrus!

A Rolling Stone reader poll has determined the 20 most annoying songs ever:

1. Black Eyed Peas, My Humps
2. Los Del Rio, Macarena
3. Baha Men, Who Let The Dogs Out
4. Celine Dion, My Heart Will Go On
5. Nickelback, Photograph
6. Lou Bega, Mambo No. 5
7. James Blunt, You're Beautiful
8. Spice Girls, Wannabe
9. Sisqo, The Thong Song
10. Cher, Believe
11. Aqua, Barbie Girl
12. Chumbawumba, Tub Thumper
13. Rednex, Cotton-Eyed Joe
14. Eiffel 65, Blue
15. Crash Test Dummies, Mmm Mmm Mmm Mmm
16. Meatloaf, I Would Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)
17. 'NSYNC, Bye, Bye, Bye
18. Ricky Martin, Livin' La Vida Loca
19. Semisonic, Closing Time
20. Wham!, Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go

Here are my questions for you:

(1) What 5 songs should round out the Top 25?

(2) Which of the above 20 songs are on your iPod?

Where's a red pen (or chisel) when I need one?

Just a few random observations from the past week ...

(1) This is from one of my frequent lunch spots. The misspellings abound there, as evidenced by this sample from their whiteboard menu. Not pictured here is another offer for "free" chips and queso with a certain purchase. Why the word "free" is in quotes makes me suspicious. What's the hidden cost?



(2) One of my all-time favorite spots in Galveston is La King's Confectionery on the Strand. Sadly, I will never be able to wear one of their t-shirts. If you ever want to visit, please keep in mind that they are on Galveston Island, Texas ... not Galveston, Island Texas.

(3) I don't have a picture of this one, but I also noticed a punctuation error on a tombstone at the beautiful Glenwood Cemetery on Washington Avenue. There was a granite stone with the family name in the middle of a small section of land, surrounded by grave markers of the individual family members. I won't use their real name, so let's just say it was the Smith family. That center marker -- announcing to the world who was buried there -- said Smith's. Shouldn't it read just Smith, or Smiths, or -- if the Smith family wanted to let others know that the land indeed belonged to them -- Smiths'? A punctuation error on an engraved granite tombstone. Wow.

BibleMap

Check out BibleMap. It's pretty cool.

That's all.

Um, I'll just have water.

I thought this was a novelty gag gift when I saw it at the end of the check-out aisle at Buc-ees in Luling. But as I commented out loud to Amanda that it had to be joke, the customer in line behind us assured us that it was not. He should know -- he happened to be a Budweiser employee.

If you haven't connected the dots just yet, let me spell this out for you. Inside that can is a combination of tomato juice, beer -- and clam juice.

That's right. Tomatoes, beer ... and clams.

So tell me ... how thirsty would you have to be to drink that? If I ate sand and sucked on cotton balls for two days straight I might -- might -- lick the condensation off the can -- but that's as close as I would get.

A God-Given Platform

On Sunday, June 10, I had the honor of representing all megachurches in a brief interview on Fox News Channel. In case you missed it, click here to view the interview using QuickTime.

THE BACKGROUND
So, how did this all come about?

On Friday, I received a call from a FNC staff member. They wanted to know if our pastor would be available for the story at 12:30 pm on Sunday. I checked with Gregg to see what he thought, and it truly would have been too much of a burden on his schedule. His first priority on Sunday morning is to teach the Word of God and be here as our pastor. He did not want to be rushed to get out the door as soon as the service was over.

With Gregg's blessing, I confirmed with FNC that I would be available for the interview.

THE EXPERIENCE
FNC asked me to report to Total Video in downtown Houston's warehouse district. This is now one of my most favorite buildings in all of H-Town: historic, eclectic, funky, character, you name it.

One of the crew members walked me through the place, pointing out pictures of people who had used their studios over the years. He shared that Bill O'Reilly is a nice man -- and very tall -- and that Greta Van Susteren is a sweetheart -- and very short. He also showed me the 10,000 square foot studio used by ZZ Top and Destiny's Child for rehearsals and video shoots. ("One day," I thought to myself. "Maybe one day!")

With just a few minutes before airtime, they sat me in the seat, powdered by forehead and nose, put the earpiece in place, and told me where to look. I asked the camera guy if he had one of the fancy cameras that actually takes off 10 pounds. He assured me that they did. But, he confessed that he did not have enough money to buy one of the cameras that adds hair to CEOs.

As you'll see in the video, I wish they had told me to smile. For those of you who do not know me, I really am NOT that serious looking! I promise! (Can I get a witness?)

THE INTERVIEW
I love how God works in our lives. There was a time -- years ago -- when I was exactly where Ruth was in my view toward megachurches. Having grown up in a small church, I had many of the same opinions that she expressed in the interview. But they were just that -- opinions. Theories. Assumptions. Guesses. By no means were they based on personal experience.

Fast forward to last Sunday and there I was representing all megachurches on national TV. Had I had the chance, I would have shared that the size of the church is not the issue -- rather, it's the heart of the church. HFBC does not believe that all churches should be megachurches. We support over 20 small mission churches in H-Town alone. We started in 1841 with a congregation of less than 20 -- half of whom were freed slaves!

I would like to think that no church purposefully seeks to be a megachurch. Rather, that they seek to proclaim the Gospel of Jesus Christ and that they are obedient to be good stewards of the people God brings through their doors. As Pastor Gregg has said, Houston has millions of residents who have not accepted Jesus Christ as their personal savior. HFBC cannot minister to all of them -- even if they were to walk through our doors on Sunday. We need Bible-believing and Bible-teaching churches of all sizes to work together to reach a lost world.

THE THANKS
I am thankful for my friends who were praying for me before and during the interview -- and for the text messages confirming that they were! I am thankful for Pastor Gregg for giving me some helpful pointers on Friday and for his phone call afterwards. I am thankful that God gave me the words to use in the interview -- even in the moment as the interview was being conducted. My prayer request in advance was that God would get the glory -- not me or HFBC or megachurches in general. To the extent that He did, it's all due to Him making it so!

(And so I wouldn't get the glory, God saw to it that FNC misspelled my name!)

The Bible Scholars

If you read my reports from the Belize mission trip, you'll remember the story of the "Bible scholars" at the orphanage. Here's a picture of the guys (l to r): Errol, me, Aaron, and Kendrick.

Aaron joined me while I was guarding the basketball hoop tower against the other kids. They wanted to climb it or shake it in an attempt to knock Russ off while he was helping to install a new hoop.



On our last day in Belize City, Carolina and I ran errands to buy more things for the orphanage. When we dropped off the toys and supplies, guess who we ran into? Our friend Aaron. He had come home from school for lunch along with the rest of the kids. Here he is in his uniform with one of the new basketballs that we bought.



Please pray for these "Bible scholars" -- that they would truly be a light in a dark place among their young peers in Belize.

Ronnie says ...

The latest addition to my office:



If the camera phone picture isn't clear enough for you, it says:

"I wasn't a great communicator, but I communicated great things."

Ronald Reagan

For me, this quote summarizes what I do here at HFBC. I'm not that great, but the Message is GREAT! (Insert Tony the Tiger impression here.)

From scrolls to IMs

Have you ever pondered what it was like for the early church to communicate with one another as the faith spread around the present-day Middle East and beyond -- especially when they were out on missionary journeys? How long it took to hear from one another?

That thought crossed my mind once again this week in a moment on the mission trip to Belize. While sitting in the business center at the Radisson in Belize City, I was using Skype to communicate with Carrie and Jerrell in the Missions Office at HFBC while waiting for an e-mail from Sarah with the lyrics for a song to use at the orphanage. While doing that, I was on IM with Elmer, a student ministry leader we met in Cuba last summer.

In my inbox was an e-mail from Ricky -- the guy in India I've been encouraging since our trip in January 2005. There was also an Evite from Stan inviting me to a party to learn about all that happened on the HFBC trip to China (which was leaving the next day).

During these few moments in the business center, I also received a reply to my Belize update from Susannah. She arrived in Mongolia earlier in the week for a one-year missionary commitment. She added that two Baylor alums had just arrived, too -- one of whom had just come from doing mission work in Belize!

I mean, come on. That's amazing, isn't it? I'm sure full-time missionaries who may be reading this may be thinking, "What's the big deal? I get e-mails here in my hut in the jungle all the time!" But as a guy who only goes on a mission trip about once a year, I have to sit back and just marvel at it all.

(By the way ... as I type this, I'm sitting in an internet cafe in San Pedro, Belize. I said goodbye to the rest of the team as they took off from the pier about an hour ago for Belize City. In my inbox was an e-mail from Trena updating us on her plans to be a two-year missionary to Africa.)

Unbelizeable Update #2

Howdy from Belize!

Sorry for the delay between reports. This will be the last one from the trip. I'm typing over a cup of coffee (sweetened with pure cane sugar) in an internet bar called "Lime" across the street from the "airport" in the heart of San Pedro. Prop-planes are lined up and ready to go. I'm pretty sure Jimmy Buffet is sitting a few stools away.

So, where were we? Oh right, Tuesday ...

Tuesday, May 29
We returned to the orphanage on Tuesday afternoon to greet them when they returned from school. The team did a great job putting together some songs, a couple of parable-based skits, and a gospel message. It was very difficult for us to leave these kids. Each one of us connected with at least one in some special way. I'm sure the members of the team will share their stories when we get back. One highlight I saw that many of you will appreciate: Janet teaching girls the "Math-arana" (her "Macarana"-based song for teaching how to multiply fractions that she uses with her students). At one point there were about 5 or 6 girls in the playground doing the song over and over and over and over again. Fantastic!

From the orphanage we took off for Belmopan -- Belize's capital city. Ironically, they do not have a hotel in Belmopan so we stayed at San Ignacio about 20 miles or more on the other side of town. This was the hotel where a member of the rookie trip was bitten by a scorpion so we all had our guards up! No attacks this time. The hotel is very open to the outdoors, and I had the ladies at the front desk assure me that no howler monkeys would come running through the lobby or down the hallways. They promised, and they were true to their word.

Wednesday, May 30
We headed back into Belmopan to visit the Baptist high school. It's located on a dirt road outside of town -- two story cinder-block building with no central air, an outdoor "cafeteria" with a snack bar and a large covered pavilion for general assemblies. We were asked to lead their chapel service the night before -- one of those "be flexible" moments that we were not expecting. Lance and Cristina led some songs, David shared his testimony, and James delivered a powerful message. Keep in mind that the whole service was about 45 minutes and the kids were not allowed to sit down. (Ouch!)

The bell rang while James was still preaching. But, none of the school officials came to stop him, so he kept going. When he wrapped up, the principal still was not in sight, so I went up to the microphone and dismissed all the students (about 200?) for lunch. They looked around somewhat confused and unsure of what to do (even though lunch WAS the next thing on their schedule). They seemed hesitant to take off. Finally, the principal appeared and rallied them back together for some announcements (calling kids out BY NAME for skipping classes and asking them to report to his office immediately) and for a blessing over the food.

Our team mingled with the kids during lunch, even playing basketball with some of them using some new balls we provided. Lori struck up a conversation with a table and must have shared with them that we would be going to San Pedro later in the week. Why do I know that? Because when I walked up to the table, she was singing Madonna's "La Isla Bonita" -- "I fell in love with San Pedro ..." And yes, I joined in. The kids were amused to say the least.

After lunch, our team divided up into three groups and spoke to different classes -- sharing testimonies, breaking out into groups of guys and girls, sharing the Good News of Jesus Christ. This is a Baptist school, but we were saddened to hear how many students knew so little about the Bible and about Jesus. Carolina shared with us that in her small group of 6-8 girls, every one of them said that they were NOT going to heaven because of bad things that they do (cussing, drinking, etc.). Here they are at the end of a school year at a Baptist high school and they don't get it -- even when they have chapel every day and Bible classes.

Please, please, please pray for the Truth to penetrate the hearts of these students! On top of being normal teenagers with all of the challenges that come with that, they appear to have grown callous to God's message since they hear it all the time. And it doesn't help matters that not all of the faculty are believers, either. When we kicked off the chapel service, I shared with them that we may know all about a celebrity (movie star, athlete, etc) -- name, birthplace, accomplishments, salary, etc. -- so much so that it may feel as though we KNOW them personally. But, the fact is, knowing about him or her is not the same as knowing him or her -- and that's how it is with God. The students know about Him, but do not know Him. Please pray for them.

After our day there, we headed back to Belize City.

Thursday, May 31
We called an audible late Wednesday night on what to do Thursday. Our original plans were to go to another high school, but the logistics just were not working out. So, we decided to do some good ol' fashioned street evangelism around the part of Belize City where the cruise ships let off their passengers. The team divided up into groups of 3 and hit the streets. Carolina and I noticed some hesitation on the parts of several team members. Street evangelism ain't some people's cup of tea! As she and I left to run errands around town, we just smiled and said to each other, "Well ... this is what a mission trip is all about! Stretching, growing, and stepping out of your comfort zone!" (I experienced that the day before at the high school when I found myself talking with two painfully shy and introverted 14 year-old boys with limited English abilities and a healthy dose of teenage attitude. Ugh!)

Some glimpses at what our teams encountered: a couple who had a child out of wedlock 11 years ago, separated, and came to know the Lord independently of each other and reunited later in life -- now on their honeymoon; an elderly Jehovah's Witness couple; a drunk American who claimed God told him to go down to the market and buy a beer (at 11:00 am); a bongo-player in full native face-paint and grass skirt; several taxi drivers; and many other interesting characters and stories.

During our group devotional time last night, it was a joy to hear the stories -- and to see how each person was blessed by their obedience to step out and share God with others. I won't share all of the insights they shared since they may not want it spread via e-mail, but it was a truly special joy to see people grow and work together -- building off of each other's strengths and learning from one another.

While all of this was going on, David, Lance, Rich, and Nathan went to a men's prison about 30 minutes outside of Belize City. David and Lance had gone here on the rookie trip in March, so they were able to reconnect with some of the men there. When the guys entered the prison, their bags were not even checked so they were able to bring in Bibles, tracts, photos from the rookie trip, and other items. The guys challenged a group of about 70 believers to be salt and light where they were -- in prison. David encouraged them to get out there and share Christ with the other prisoners. After this time with the believers, the guys were given the opportunity to get on the public address system for the whole prison. David was able to preach the Word over the PA system for all the 1,400 prisoners to hear! Praise the Lord for opening those doors!

That afternoon, we headed out to San Pedro on a 1.5 hour boat ride across turquoise waters and past tiny islands with thatch-roof huts and fishing piers. I took pictures of as many of them as I could for future reference when looking for a place to retire. =)

We had dinner at a fantastic place about a 15 minute walk down the beach from our hotel. During dinner, we had a breathtaking view of the moon rising over the Caribbean -- and we experienced a tropical downpour, too. Eventually, we had to just give in and walk home in the rain. Keep in mind that I was trying to be all "tropical" and cool and had worn a thin white long sleeve shirt, sleeves rolled up, without a t-shirt underneath it. It was a great look for a cool evening at a beachside restaurant -- but not a good look for a 15-minute walk in the rain. I'm a little too modest for a wet shirt contest, thank you very much.

Friday, June 1
That brings us to today. People are sleeping in, taking bike rides, reading on the beach, and so on. We will probably go snorkeling this afternoon. It's a great way to end a great week.

Final Thoughts
I wish I had included this in my previous update, but I'll try to catch you up. For the team's devotional, Carolina and I chose some "hall of fame" verses from the Bible to meditate upon each day. Knowing that Belize is considered to be "over-evangelized" and many people believe that they are Christians when they truly are not, we wanted to challenge our team to truly know what they believe. We picked verses that have -- sadly -- almost become cliches to us American Christians since they are so frequently quoted, used on Christian merchandise, etc. We put them in order as they appear in the Bible (or in Christ's life) and assigned one to each day.

Each day, we asked the team to "ponder, picture and pray" about the day's verse. At night, we talked about how the verse was made real to them as they went about doing their ministry. As only God could do, each verse was perfect for what we did that day. For example:

• Sunday - Proverbs 3:5-6. Carolina and I had difficulty getting in touch with our ministry partners here in Belize as we prepared for the trip. On Sunday, all of our plans fell into place and we got in touch with the right people -- even new people we had not met yet. It was such a relief to see the LORD work it all out!
• Monday - Jeremiah 29:11. This verse is often taken out of context, and we talked about it as a group that morning. As we met the children at the orphanage, we were comforted by the knowledge that God does, indeed, have a plan for those precious kids. The verse may not apply directly to them in the proper context, but the truth that God is in control of their lives -- and it is not up to us to protect them or provide for them -- was reassuring.
• Wednesday - Matthew 28:19-20. The students at the school need discipling -- in a major way! Looking out among the faces in the crowd, there were students of Hispanic, African, and Asian descent. In this remote part of Belize, down a dirt road, we were touching people (and families?) of all nations.
• Thursday - "For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain." (Philippians 1:21). This was perhaps the most powerful application of our daily verse to what we did that day. Paul wrote this verse while in prison -- and this was the day the guys went to the prison. Also, this was the day that our team had to "die to self" and step out in obedience for street evangelism -- laying aside their fears, preferences, and so on. God's timing ROCKS!

OK ... if I spend anymore time in this internet bar people are gonna start talking. Thanks to you all for your prayers and encouragement. This trip has been such a blessing to all of us -- and one in which the ministry seemed to never stop as we witnessed to hotel workers, street vendors around the hotel, and others. Keep us in your prayers as we go about our day here in San Pedro, and for a safe return on Saturday. (If you want to pray for me while I stay here and kick back until late Monday, feel free to do so, too!)