UFC 79

Being a Rampage fan, I never thought I would be for Silva, but I am sort of tired of Chuck's act.
Oh, well.

This is my now-favorite place. It's in Glacier Nat'l Park. Lisa and I made the hike to this lake early one morning. We were the only ones there for about a half-hour. Once people started to arrive, we decided to move on.

On our walk back, many people were on their way to see this beautiful spot, and they had some bizarre questions. "Are we almost there?" "Is there a gift shop?" "Where's my car?"

I wanted to say, "Trust me: it's worth it. Keep going. Yes, I moved you car when you weren't looking, whack-job!" Mostly I just smiled and nodded (a good move for you married guys, by the way).

People are strange. I'm no exception.

Movements

Lisa and I will be moving to Durango, Colorado in the next few months. We have been thinking about this for awhile and believe it's time for a new adventure.

She is doing very well in all of her real estate training and cannot wait to become the Queen of Durango.

I am still plugging along: school work, writing, and volunteering. I am training for Chicago's Strongest Man--which will be held on April 19, 2008 (details to follow). Training is very hard and very fun. There is a great group of guys at the gym.
(www.jakkedhardcore.com)

Next week, it's off to Michigan's U.P. for a few days' retreat. I might try to shoot a deer, but I am most excited about
deep-fried turkey . . . mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. If you have the means, I highly recommend you pick one up. It's so choice. (What movie?)

1/2 way there

I had two goals that I worked on today: lift the 250lb Atlas stone and work on benching the 120lb dumbbells for six reps.

I'm halfway to both: I got the stone halfway up and did the 120's three times. I've been training heavily for only about a month and have seen a lot of results. Pretty cool.

Here's a picture (of someone else) showing where I got the stone up to this morning:

Training for God knows what . . .

Wednesdays and Saturdays: www.jakkedhardcore.com for training.

Tonight, we did, among other things, a combo of tire flipping (at which I suck) and farmer's walking (at which I suck a little less). Our tire is 400# and the farmers were at roughly 110#

YMCA Fitness Expo 9/22/07

Oh, GOD---I am SO(ul) Tired

When depression breaks like a fever,
Rest settles into your bones.

Sleep comes like never before,
Only candle light is shone.

Hours pass by like the wind,
Unseen & unhurried, carefree.

Night comes and goes like the tide,
In the morning, emerging: the real me.

Answer: 17 hours, a few tears, a lot of sleep, and a refreshed soul!

Question: What does a tiny cabin and some confession get you?

Our Final Day inside Glacier Nat'l Park

Old Faithful

Buff about 10 ft from us . . . etc.

The Latest . . .

We've been to Durango earlier in the month. Left on the Ninth and have been many places since: Grand Teton, Yellowstone, and Glacier National Parks. We just pulled in to Southern Utah, and we will be in Moab tomorrow. We switch vehicles, from the RV to our car, and then we will be enroute to home starting Monday. Hopefully, we can take the Northern roads so that we can see Mt. Rushmore, etc . . .

More pictures to follow soon.

I cannot believe they just let us do that!

We did an introductory shooting range and scenario experience at the club here in the resort. It was AWESOME!



After some instruction, we were lead through a series of sets that had life-sized, hostile targets popping out at you. You shoot them until they have fallen over or until the former Navy Seal guy pats you on the back. It felt very real, and I surprisingly did not shoot myself in the foot.
One of the coolest things I've ever done or seen!!!

Check out: http://valhallashootingclub.com/training.php

I hope to see you, Mr. Elk!

Ate here & will sleep there . . .

2nd Heaven . . .

So, we just checked into a place we have NO business being at: Elk Mountain Resort. Oh my . . . .

http://www.elkmountainresort.com/?src=ppc_google_emrbrand

Colorado National Monument Hike

The Midge and I went for a short hike today:

RV Dia Nueve

Day nine saw Steamboat Springs. Cool town: lots of lazy-river-tubing-action . . . and really good New York style pizza slices ($2.25 with green Tobasco sauce, of course).

Day Ten involves some ice cubes, a nine iron, and a new KOA in Grand Junction. Re-entering civilization: going to Border's later this morning. Ahhhhh

Funny: not so ha-ha . . .

I've been eating Psalm 27 for a while now. Here's what struck me from it today:

"For he will conceal me there when troubles come;
he will hide me in his sanctuary.
He will place me out of reach on a high rock."

(Verse 5 NLT)

I love you, Father.

Funny: ha ha

Top Ten Names of RV's Found On-Site in Gypsum, CO. (From the home office----which is currently parked in Gypsum):

10. Cedar Creek (YAWN!)
9. The Wanderer (Errrr, whatever)
8. The Alumascape (Guess what it's made out of?)
7. The Nomad (DUH)
6. The Escapade (Belonging to Lis and Ben Wilcox. "Do we have to take off our clothes in public now?" Well, any scandal will do.)
5. The Road Ranger (Owner [hopefully a guy] must want to be either Chuck Norris or Mel Gibson [pre-conspiracy theorist, mugshot Mel])
4. The Prowler (Who wants to park next to that? Meow. They'll probably try to break in to my sweet rig.)
3. The Sportsmen (Ever seen the SNL cartoon: The Amibuously Gay Duo?")
2. The Zanzibar (What the . . . .!?! Complete with airbrushed tigers on the back. Ewwww . . . scar-ry!)

And, the number 1 RV name for the summer of 2007 is . . .

1. The Alpenlite (I have absolutely NO idea what that means, whether or not it's really a word, or what the country of origin is)

RV Park Trash Talk

Dude 1: I see your rig only has 1 slide-out.

Dude 2: Yeah, well---at least it goes out farther than yours!

Self-potrait

{Taken from Dictionary.com; too striking a resemblance not to pass on to my public}

Word of the Day for Sunday, June 24, 2007

jejune \juh-JOON\, adjective:

1. Lacking in nutritive value.
2. Displaying or suggesting a lack of maturity; childish.
3. Lacking interest or significance; dull; meager; dry.

Recipe for Baked Shower Shoe(s)

1. Procure one (1) pair of black (uncertain whether BLACK is necessary, but can attest only to this color--actually, BLACK is not a true color at all. Thanks go to Beth E. Racine, of Elgin, for recently correcting me on this gi-normous point of fact. Way to go, Beth! Watch out, Jeopardy! ! [Note: for whatever reason, the creator(s) of the show Jeopardy! chose to spell it with an exclamation point (Or, exclamation 'mark'---depending on where you were educated) Bonus question: Are titles of TV shows italicized or set in quotation marks? Or, put in appropriate context, Answer: What are quotation marks? Question: These are put around the titles of TV shows when unsure as to the correct punctuation.] shower shoes. (AKA "Flip flops." Note: use caution when referring to shower shoes as "flip flops." Apparently, this is either a cultural or regional term. I was recently given a weird look and weirder remark by a Latina (Hipanic?) girl of approximately eight years of age when I used "flip flops" [the term not the items] in her presence. She left me feeling old, whiter-than-white, and uninformed as to the more hip, or--Hispanic, term for rubberized, thonged [hint: also use caution when using the word "thongs." Some may misinterpret this as the female undergarment. E.g. my grandfather still refers to waterproofed slip-over, foul-weather booties as "rubbers." Sounds harmless until he is staying at your house and yells, "Honey, where did you put my rubbers?" to your grandmother while they are vacationing from Florida, and your friends are over to play.] footwear.)
2. Thoroughly marinate said footwear while showering for approximately 11.5 minutes. (NOTE: Assuming you use hot water {temperature relative to skin sensitivity, etc.} & have access to shower. I.e. Not staying at an RV park that requires you to obtain a key to shower stall from owner between the hours of 8am and 9pm [Mountain Time Zone]. Apparently, one bad apple does indeed ruin the bunch as the reason given for locked shower stalls was the unclaimed diarrhea sprayed bathroom incident following one hour (at least!) of cleaning done by two women employed by said RV park. [unsure of the relation of two women; however, I am assuming some measure of familiarity due to close quarters within said bathroom stall. I have cleaned several bathrooms, and I would not enter a cleaning partnership in such tight space without a degree of relation suitable to the situation. E.g. kin, carnal knowledge, Biblical knowledge, or exorbitantly high hourly rate of wage.] Footwear may be worn on feet or left on floor to soak while showering. {This would, of course, diminish the effectiveness of shower shoe defense against floor-borne bacteria, fungus, or communicable disease}
3. Pat dry.
4. Position shower shoes (or, shoe if cooking for yourself.) in direct sunlight.
5. Let bake for approximately two hours. (NOTE: use caution as over-baking may cause bubbles to arise in sole. Unsure as to permanence of over-bake bubbles. {Check this site at a later date for more information as to whether bubbles diminish or not. So far, assume permanence.}
6. Enjoy!

***Important: if showering in RV park which requires use of key to utilize facilities, do not forget to return aforementioned key to owner. (Unsure of penalty for failing to return the key to owner. Assume the worst, though, as owner is still frothy-mad at aforementioned diarrhea-sprayed bathroom incident.)

Friday----finally

Other than sending out some postcards to all the underaged twins I know, I ain't got squat to do . . .And, it's glorious!!!

RV Day 2

Last night was just making it to Des Moines (boring).

Today we made it to a KOA in Western Nebraska (just east of Cheyenne, Wyoming).

Tomorrow, we plan on visiting Cheyenne, and then we will drop south through Rocky Mountain National Park as we head towards Vail (our weekend destination).

I've enjoyed the quiet so far. Driving when you are not in a hurry with nowhere to be is a great feeling. It is very peaceful here at our campground. I hope we can start getting some better views as we head west . . .

Just Like Me

I think many men struggle with what they see in themselves. So many guys either grew up without a father at all, or they grew up with the strain and struggle of not wanting to replicate certain parts of their perception of their dad. In other words, I think many boys either do not know who to be (for lack of role models), they just know who they DON'T want to be.
Apart from the arguments as to nature verus nurture, genetics versus geography---guys have to make choices based on what they have seen or experienced. When I've done certain things, said specific phrases, or reacted with instinct or emotions that surprise me---I often do not have to look far to figure out where I got them.
Recently, through retrospection and reflection, I have taken stock of who I've become, or, better, who I'm becoming.
I was recounting some things I've done to a friend of mine. I was telling her a few crazy stories from my younger days. A few of those tales I had not thought about for some time. I even surprised myself at how emotional I became as I recalled these experiences. I could not explain them--other then to say, "Well, that must be who I am, I guess."
It's been a long road for me on my spiritual journey. While I try not to segregate or compartmentalize the aspects of myself (e.g. physical, emotional, spiritual), I can acknowledge that each area has progressed at sometimes much different speeds.
Part of what's been tough for me as I reckon God has been the concept of Him as Father. Additionally, how can Jesus be my Spirit, brother, friend, and dad all at the same time? My father is my master? I have a bit of an authority issue anyway. Complexity.
I am starting to get the sense that parts of me that have been previously inexplicable can be decoded when illuminated by the light of my adoption (however slowly I've come to accept/acknowledge it) by God.
As I drove home later that night after the conversation with my friend, I was overwhelmed that perhaps what I considered oddities in my character and behavior, Christ might consider resemblance. I have a hard time admitting this at all. I want to be my own man, my own person.
I get to see kids who are having a hard time take comfort when they see that there are other children going through the same crap they are. They take solace in the notion that they have peers that are "just like me." When you start lining up the similarities, the gap between feeling misunderstood and isolated narrows so that pain is eventually lessened and experience unravelled.
What makes me different than others might, at the same time, have made, or be making, me more like someone else. Maybe someone else is seeing me and getting to know me, as I let them, and thinking, "Hey, Ben is just like me. We share some stuff, some pain, some experiences, and some traits. He often talks like me. He sort of looks like me. Sometimes, he's just like me."
That can be overwhelming to hear for a guy who's never quite liked himself much. For a guy who's taken quite a long time to accept the things he cannot change and all that serenity stuff. For a guy who can give more than most but receives very little. To hear that, to begin to feel that comfort---that's more than a little scary.
Just like me. Maybe I am getting there . . .

The Iceman Cometh . . .TO!!!

I think Chuck is awake now after my guy blasted his head off. I know everybody is saying this now probably, but I truly have been a Rampage fan for years and years. I've suffered through his losses to Silva and his recent so-so performances. Finally, though, he'll get the recognition he deserves. Go, Q!!!

motorcycle spirituality

I've been really guilty of trying to figure stuff out on my own. It's not bad to read a book, listen to a CD, or call a friend in search of help/guidance. All those things are good resources, but they can get in the way, too. Getting in the way of the ultimate resource and friend.
I grew up awed and scared by motorcycles. It seems like the people who ride them are cooler than me, and I've always considered myself too uncoordinated to do much else other than eat pizza and watch a movie at the same time. So, I surprised even myself when I recently got my license and my first bike. It's virutally the same as the one pictured above. (just the paint color is off)
I have put about 400 miles on it a couple of weeks. It's amazing: the sounds, sights, and smells are all vastly different than driving a car. The awareness that riding requires has opened me up to new experiences of solitude (even in traffic) and spirituality. I am still a little nervous, but I think the humility I have about my lack of riding skill will serve me well in other areas of my life. I need regular humbling, don't you?
Under my helmet, I can hear and listen and think. Without the radio, CD player, and my cell phone--I can engage my surroundings and be fully present in the moment. I never imagined this machine of which I am still a little wary could provide my with a more personal religion.
Leading up to this purchase at the Kawasaki dealer, I had quit listening. I was too prone to "strike off on my own" (Proverbs 19.27 The Message Remix). I have seen the bumper sticker that says, "Loud pipes save lives." I am listening again. I can hear. "Trust God from the bottom of your heart; don't try to figure out everything on your own. Listen for God's voice in everything you do, everywhere you go; he's the one who will keep you on track." (Proverbs 3:5 MSG)
Plenty of people have expressed concern for my safety now that I am riding. I humbly say, "I think this bike might actually save my life."

A new church service order?

Instead of having very distinct times for songs, then a sermon, then a closing song and prayer---could we mix it all up to help people experience God in a different, maybe more personal, way??? Do things have to be portioned so much?

For example, could a song be playing with some images (or icons) on the screen when the pastor (or whomever) reads a few Scriptures? Then, there would be time for people to meditate on those Scriptures & perhaps journal some thoughts on the back of the bulletin. At a cetain points, we could still sing corporately. A few discussion questions could come up on the sidescreens for people to either write about or talk with a few people about. Then, the pastor/facilitator could giude the discussion a little. Show a video? Another song? Take communion? More quiet time . . . I think providing space for quiet reflection should be a staple of any church service. Can we ever get too much of that in our life? Have a short role-play or drama? I do not understand the segmentation of everything every time.

I'm not advocating for disorder or to not have a certain text for the Service. I do think we can get into the text in different ways other than to hear thirty straight minutes of what someone else thinks about it. I think we can do a much better job of creating environments that allow people to hear from and experience God. We do not learn by only listening. We are changed by experiences. I honestly cannot usually remember what someone talked about last week or even--last night. I do remember the experiences I've had in church services where there was space for me to have one. We have all these gifts to wisely steward as we determine service order. Let's not settle for less than our best in helping people hear from, see, and get to know Christ. The elements of a church service should serve that end, not get in the way of it by regimenting and segmenting. Who are we to judge exactly how and when someone should experience God's presence or communicaiton?

I hear it all the time:
"In a room this size,
There must be this or that."

In a room this size,
Is the room enough for me?

In a room this size,
Can there really be

Room enough for those
whom often aren't seen?

In a room this size
What do expect to see?

Can we really ever know
what lies in hearts and minds?

In a room this size
How many is that?

Does it have to be hundreds?
How about just you and me?

In a room this size
do I feel safe or similar?

How do I know that there
are others just like me?

In a room this size
Will it be alright?

Can I find God
Who will shine the light?

In a room this size
Will I matter at all?

So many problems
How can I recall?

In a room this size
Will me get lost in we?

How can I know that
others hear or see?

In a room this size
Will my pain feel small?

I need someone
willing to call

In a room this size
where do I fit?

Lots of faces and chairs
None invite me to sit

In a room this size
Do I have a part to play?

I'm not sure where to turn
Not sure what to say

In a room this size
I somehow feel alone

Thousands of people
will someone hear my groan?

In a room this size
does that make it seem alright?

Perhaps my burden
should feel more light

In a room this size
Eyes pass over me

Lots of looks
so few really see

In a room this size
they expect me to fit

Is there a space
for me to find "it"

what I've been missing
since before I can recall

In a room this size
to whom do I call?

No one knows me
It feels like the mall

When I'm at wits end
with nothing to lose

I really need connection
not the latest news

I need to see real
not the flashing lights

Will you find a space for me
I can't find my way at night?

Will you giude me and love me
and slowly return my sight?

there's too much to miss
in a room this size

Too many stories
too many lies

I do not know the facts
about a room this size.

Maybe it's different
maybe we'll realize

that regardless of numbers
or the crowds that we see

People are hungry, broken
they need to be free.

In a room this size, is there room enough in me
to not turn away from the people I see?
could I offer my self in new scary ways?
Will we ever reach the deeper things
that anomynity betrays?

Can we make it feel small
though the numbers are many?
should we talk to them all
or simply use the excuse
that in a room this size
there isn't any use

Create space for them, vaue them
and see them as unique
We love them, notice them
and give them a seat

There's room in God's heart
for all that would seek
In a room this size
is there room enough in me?

does my heart ever get full
of people other than myself?
is it time to take some old beliefs
off of the shelf?

There's room for you
in my Father's house
sit here, listen, and hear from Him
i think he's saying that in a room this size,
i hope that you'll stay.

you are safe here; I love you
albeit hundreds, dozens, or three
in a room this size
you'll always find me

Reading . . . . . .Drinking . . . . . . Loving . . . . . Thinking . . . . . . Walking . . . . . . Nodding . . . . . . . Reading . . . .. . .

I am so heavy-hearted with my place at Willow Creek. I can barely sit through services there. I perceive so little difference between what is supposed to be a deeper level, "believer's" service on Wednesday nights and the weekend services which have historically been 'seeker sensitive.' Now that Scripture is read, songs are particpatory, and Bibles are opened on Sunday mornings, shouldn't there be a corresponding shift occurring on the Midweek format? In other words, if the weekends are responding to felt differences in the openness of people to more traditional means of worship and study, then musn't there be strides to enhance the experience of God on Wednesdays? Shouldn't there be some corresponding reaction? How can one change and the other remain static? I have the hardest time connecting with Christ during the hour or so allotted during either day of the week. I'm listless, bored, and tired of being offered merely more good advice in the form of yet another, multi-point, too-polished, impersonal, scripted, sermon that mostly just lets me know what someone I respect thinks about the Scriptures or some aspect of faith. I know that I'm at Willow for a reason. I am scared that that reason is to help transition us from mega to meta.
We have a growing Latino congregation that we relegate to the chapel for their services. My wife had a great idea: let's give them the new, fancy auditorium. Let's serve them instead of making them sit at the back of the bus. We've accommodated them poorly in my opinion.
I cannot put into words the torn feelings I have about where I am. I serve wholeheartedly because of my strong convictions about the mission of the Church. I love the relationships God has blessed me with through the on-campus activities of which I am a part. However, I feel like that is where the connectivity ends for me. The services are super-programed. The messages are just that: messages. There is little story, little space, and little prayer. I think we do a good job with the "Apostle's teaching" part of Acts 2:42 "They devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer.
I think that bringing in Frazee will help with the "fellowship" and "the breaking of bread" activities. Maybe that's part of it: all the activities. I'm missing the focus on prayer--in my daily life and on campus. So often, this may be due to my consideration of prayer as an activity when really it involves the opposite, doesn't it? Inactivity: how do we create that? "A house of prayer."
[Isa. 56:7; Matt. 21:13] Are we calling for it? Are we setting aside enough service time and space for this most-important, vital avenue to the Throne? Are we bold enough to be quiet enough? Why can't there be corporate silence? Corporate fasting? Where's the challenges that made me stick around four years ago?
There's a lot being written about the reclamation of the missional church and the Starbuck's model of creating experiences and the many reasons why young people find themselves disillusioned with institutionalized "church."
"An Hour on Sunday," unfortunately, has inhaled too many resources and failed to be the place where people genuinely encounter the presence of God, exhaling pretense, or express questions and doubts. It's the convincing hour, the presentation hour, the show. It's a great show, but show me Jesus. I'm glad that I get to see him on Mondays helping & loving kids. I am sad that I have trouble spotting him in the auditorium on Sundays and Wednesdays. Maybe there are too many people in the way--too many people out in front, drowning out his voice with microphones and his image with spotlights. The disciples tried to prevent the little ones from approaching the Savior. No time, they said. Too busy. The show must go on. Jesus disagreed--big time. Have we hindered folks from approaching the Son of God? Is there too much interference? Shouldn't a church service be the one place where there isn't? The curtain was torn, remember? Have we sewn it back together? Tear up the script and tear at my heart. Real is always relevant, as one wise man wrote recently.
Maybe fewer multi-sites and more Jesus sightings? What place have we given him in all our grand plans, models, and programming? Is there any room for him in there? I seem to recall he's been through this "There's no room" deal before . . .
I hope it isn't happening again.
I am going to stick around to find out.

Book review

I think every pastor and paid minister should read this . . .and church member, too.

The section on pastors 'getting over their call to preach' alone is enough to make this a must-read.

The paradigm that Roberts illustrates concerning the true nature of missions is amazing. While reading this book, I was confronted with so many uncomfortable truths about the ways I view the rest of the world, my nationalistic ego, & my ignorance of not only the need for but also the mandate to long-term, overseas commitments from the American Church. Whether we like to admit it or not, we had better get going--off the seats and into the field. When Roberts mentioned how many Easterners are coming to America as missionaries, I about cried.
What am I doing? What are we doing? Why aren't we doing? Or, is this more about who we refuse to become?

"I too had noticed that our prayers for others flow more easily than those we offer on our own behalf. And it would be nice to accept your view that this just shows we are made to live by charity. I'm afraid, however, I detect two much less attractive reasons for the ease of my own intercessory prayers. One is that I am often, I believe, praying for others when I should be doing things for them. It's so much easier to pray for a bore than to go and see him. And the other is like unto it. Suppose I pray that you may be given grace to withstand your besetting sin (short list of candidates for this post will be forwarded on demand). Well, all the work has to be done by God and you. If I pray against my own besetting sin there will be work for me. One sometimes fights shy of admitting an act to be a sin for this very reason." -C.S. Lewis

Help! My priorities are wacked! God, why are you always willing to listen and I am not? Forgive me for neglecting You.
Here I am! There's nothing in my hand. Will you talk with me?

Is this real-ly relevant?

I read this article:
(http://www.relevantmagazine.com/pc_article.php?id=7353). It’s entitled “The Commercial Church.”
There are some assertions that the author makes which really resonate with me, like: “Many times, [in a church’s service time] we create spectators rather than participators.” I think that is a real danger when the emphasis on programming is high. I believe we’d better serve and honor both God and people by focusing more energy in creating an environment where people are invited to experience the LORD—not so much a “presentation.” I long for my time spent in a service to be a time and space where I can experience God—right where I’m at: physically, emotionally, and mentally. I wish that the elements of the service time where geared more towards that end then staying on schedule or the impartation of mere information. Do not tell me what to think about, teach me how to think—how to draw closer to Jesus. I’ll never remember three points, a snappy acrostic, and I’ll probably throw away whatever cheesy little reminder thing everyone gets from the ushers. I think people are hungry for “real” more than they are “relevant.” As Peterson [I think] wrote, “Real is always relevant.” Let’s focus on creating a safe place for people to get real with God and experience His love and grace. Let’s help people figure out how to do that versus trying to modify their behavior.
Another opinion with which I agree is the author’s observation that “The non-Christians are now called the ‘un-churched’ or in other words, the ‘un-institutionalized.’ Is that our goal, to ‘church’ people? And so we wonder why people are feeling dry and disconnected from God even though they are active in their church.” I’ve been guilty of this, too. My goal for me, my friends and family should be discipleship not church membership. Unfortunately, trying to find some “disciple-facilitators” amongst all these teachers and preachers can sometimes prove tricky . . .

Eye of God

Father God,

I've been so tired for so long; when will this end? Am I supposed to be learning something in all of this? Is this about my pace? I hurt, and I feel like I've been operating at 55% capacity for weeks.
Are we o.k.? I've neglected you many times in the past month or so. You've given me some great ideas and bursts of creativity, though. What are you saying?
Am I on the right track? (Pilgrim and Disciple?) Maybe your Son is moving more slowly than I would like him to; is this your way of getting me to fall in line behind him? I've seen Him show up in so many ways and in so many faces lately--mostly in the way that children look at me. What's changed? My heart? It feels softer . . . I like that; it's somewhat scary, but I have been enjoying the new ways in which I see people that I used to ignore (e.g. little kids). What are you up to?
If I can keep melting into your mold, Jesus, then I am willing to maintain this pace. My brain is working, but my body isn't. Am I doing something wrong? Is it something I'm not doing that I should be?
I know you take care of me. It's all yours anyway, God. I'm all yours. Thank you for all that you have given me to manage. I am excited about who & what you have put in my life. I love them. I think they love me. That's hard for me to accept, you know.
I love you. I trust you. Thank for this certainty. Maybe I need that more than clarity.
You're all I have and need.
Bless you.
Your son,
Ben

Twins rock!

So, I had the awesome honor of baby-sitting my friends' twins today. They are 4 years old and quite the pair! They are really cool little people, and I love to be around them. I'm quite sure I'm not the world's greatest child-care provider, but nobody got hurt today (especially me!). Here's a tip to aspiring baby-sitters: take the kids out of the house. It makes the day go by faster, and there are more opportunities for memory-building experiences. You don't have to do anything that expensive or thrilling---just different scenery seems to make a world of difference to the kids.
One quick story: the male twin and I chilled out to some tunes for my last hour there. It was just him and me because his sister was at school. We didn't do anyting but lay on the couch and enjoy the music. He was so content and relaxed. He loves music a lot. It was a great reminder to me to slow down and just listen once in a while . . .Thanks, J.

Oops!

I feel really badly that I just ordered Domino's without realizing the amount of snow that's coming down. Oops. When I went to the front door to ensure that the porch light was on (I believe in safe delivery---at all costs), I saw an enourmous flurry of snow activity. THAT is gonna make it tought to beat the 30 minute thesh-hold . . . You can do it, delivery man!!! Come 'on!

Feverish

I'm just now feeling a little bit better after a butt-kicker of a severe cold/flu. I slept forever yesterday and loaded up on Thera-flu tea. I still went to Oasis at Willow tonight. I think my illness actually forced me to take on a better pace tonight. I had a great time, connected with the kids I needed to, and allowed a couple elements proceed without me. It all worked out. Maybe I should get sick more often?

Ahhhhhh!!!!

After three great days in Durango, Colorado, we arrived at the Sandia Resort & Casino (New Mexico) today. Our view is ridiculously incredible, and I've already lost 200$. I have, however, won at Three-Card Poker. I intend to play more tomorrow---after visiting the spa, of course.

NERF this!!!

My wife still has the purple football pictured below. Ever smell a 20 year-old foam ball? Not good at all. Trust me. AND, it didn't help the Bears win!

My Ol' Lady

In addition to robbing the cradle, my wife (on the left) appears to be a bigger Bears fan than I.
Who knew???