I have sinned!!!!

Listening to the Paul Finebaum show yesterday I realized that after many years of delusion that I had finally found the TRUE WAY. It has to be the TRUE PATH for people could not be so passionate otherwise. It was a true "mind opening experience". Let me explain.

I now understand that the Bear Bryant that could walk on water was the forerunner of the ANOINTED ONE, Coach St. Nic Saban. I now understand that the years of Dubose, Price and Shula were the tribulation and that we the coming of St. Nic that we are now experiencing the rapture. The end times must now be here. I now understand why I did not experience orgasmic euphoria during the six years of AUburn dominance. It was part of the tribulation. I also understand why my brother and father tormented me so as a young child over my allegiance to AUburn football. They weren't being mean obnoxious bama fans they were concerned over my lost condition and were trying to get me to see the LIGHT, the way of the Nation of bama. There I have said it. St. Nick is the annointed one, he has come to carry the Nation of bama into the promised land. I realize now that I can NEVER make it to the promised land on the path that I have been travelling. I have seen the error of my ways. I need the red and white in my life. I know now that the Crimson Tide is the only way to be as pure as snow. Finally, I understand that it is not Christmas or Easter that makes a difference but the day that the Nation of bama rules supreme over the dark side in the Plains.

Jesus and the good shit

I guess you can say that I am madder than hell, whatever that phrase might mean. I think I can say that it is a spiritual mad, I just don't know at whom I am mad. I have been for the last few weeks attending a Sunday School class where we have been talking about the "Rich Young Ruler". We have spent four weeks trying decide why Jesus told him to sell all that he had and give to the poor, had this man really kept all those commandments and many other trivial things. I am not trying to marginalize the discussions but sometimes we try to see more into the teachings of Jesus than are there.

Here's my take and then I'll tell you why I'm mad. This young successful business man comes to Jesus and says, "Hey good religious man, what do I need to be able to get the stuff you've been talking about, like I mean the eternal life stuff." Jesus replies, "why are you calling me good, there is only one really good one, besides it's not about being good." "But Jesus, I've done all the other tough stuff that all us religious folks need to do in order to be considered good", the young professional replies. Jesus. You want to really be "good" then sell all you have and give it to the poor." The young professional. "are you crazy, I've worked hard to get where I am and I'm not about to give it up. Haven't you heard about the recession we are in? Man, George got us into a mess and Obama is digging the hole deeper. But I so really wanted to get the stuff you talked about but man that is too much to ask." To me his problem was he didn't want to part with his shit and his shit kept him from the good shit Jesus was talking about. A spiritual journey that was all about building a relationship with Jesus and others in the community of THE WAY. To me Jesus was talking about THE WAY of LIFE as much as ETERNAL LIFE and so often I confuse the two.

Now, here is why I'm madder 'n hell. I sit in this class and begin to pontificate about how we've missed the mark as a church and have made church about forgiveness of sins rather than community and being a community of believers. I turned to a lady in our class (who had earlier asked for prayers for her business) and told her that if her community of believers were what they ought to be that she wouldn't have to worry about what would happen if her business failed, that her community would rally to the side of her family and see them through the mess. And then she broke down and cried, probably through fear for her business but I think from listening to her more about her doubts that her community would be there for her. And I'm mad as hell that I for one am just like the rich young professional, except that I'm an old professional, and I'm not so sure I am willing to "walk the way to eternal life." You mean I gotta do what? Jesus talks a lot about money and the epistles say a lot about money and regardless of what our western culture may say about money, it is really not about money it is about community. Jesus said, "give it away". The early church had all in common and we can explain It away all we want to but that is what it says. I'm just not so sure I like it. I guess I can't decide which shit I really want.

Well, enough of my rant...I need to go make some more...

On being all time quarterback

Yesterday was Father's Day and I was talking with David about being a dad. We were talking about our time together when he was young. One of the things that he remembers were the times in North Alabama when we would play football in our yard. I always got to be all time quarterback-something David remembers fondly. I remember it with a great sense of fondness, too. Being all time quarterback was one of the many good things about being dad. I was pretty good at it also, not that I was a great passer or play caller but I think I knew how to manage "the game." For you future all time quarterbacks here are some pointers.

1. Always be aware of the importance of dividing up the teams correctly. The older kids invariably want to be on the same team so they can show their "prowess" in beating the younger kids. Even them up but keep the siblings separte where you can. Also be careful to divide up the speed guys.

2. You have to be very skillful in managing the game itself. Usually one team really starts "sticking" it to the other. You have to know how to overthrow the ball so that it doesn't look like it. If it looks good-the "my bad" line usually works. You just can't do it too often or you'll be accused of "cheating". Not that I ever did that but you might need it in your bag of tricks. Another valuable skill is knowing the right time to throw that ill timed interception. The best time to throw it is on a down and in/or out. You throw the interception and claim that you thought they were going to cut the other way. When you throw this interception the key is to throw it so the weaker team can return it for a TD. This can be a momentum changer. Occasionally you want to give the weaker team an interception but ALWAYS when teh weaker team has little chance of a first down.Again, be careful not to use this one too often. The other trick is to know the right time to call a penalty. Never make a flagrant bad call but always err to the weak team in close calls but every now and then throw the strong team a bone on a penalty.

3. Uaually in these games there is one kid that isn't nearly as good as the other ones. You have to know how to set up that one play so that kid gets to be the hero. Maybe a trick play or maybe it is the "interception". Sometimes you even have to get the other kids in on it. But believe me it works.

4. The most important thing about being all time quarterback is having plenty of goodies for half time or at the end. Plan to have hot dogs and cokes, win or lose evry kid enjoys that part of the game.

As you can see, I have the finer points in being all time quarterback down pat. I must say I don't remember any bad games at "all time quarterback". I think I might one day make the Hall of Fame. I'd get my vote!! It was a blast. Try it sometime. I hope that I can live long enough to be all time quarterback for Brendan and Will.

My Father's Day Gifts-Already Given

Well, Father's Day will be here on Sunday. I guess this will be my 30th year to be recognized on this day. I always got a kick out of this day especially when the boys were little. I don't remember what the present was on my first Father's day but I do remember the sense of awe of actually being a father on that day. Being a dad has always been a special role for me, not that I was necessarily a great dad but I was a good one. I love being a father and today I still love that role. And now I get to add the role of being a grand father. I have reflected this year more on being a dad more than others in recent years and for a number of reasons.

One is that I am "watching" my youngest son become a father for the second time. Little Will is due anyday now. I really hope he is a Father's Day baby, even though if he were born a little late he could be born on my birthday. But what could be a better Father's Day present for my son than to have little Will being born on Father's Day. It is really cool to watch David being a dad. He is a damn great dad!!!
I am awed by his patience, gentleness, love and determination in being a dad. David is a "stay at home dad". He relishes the role of dad and primary caregiver. He is great at what he does. I realize as I watch him father Brendan how short of his mark that I fell. I believe David would be a great dad even if he weren't the primary caregiver. So David, the best present you could give me on this Father's Day is one that you have already given to me-being the best dad for which Brendan and Will could hope. Your past accomplishments, and they are many, do not compare to what you are doing now. David, I love you.

The other reason that I have reflected so much on this Father's Day is my oldest son Zac. I have had the opportunity the last few months to see my son in a different light. Several months ago Zac found out that he had a disease/disorder that he would have to deal with the rest of his life. I have seen him tackle the disease head on and never back down from it. I know that at times he has probably wanted to give up be he never has. I remember getting off the plane in Oakland shortly after he experienced a life and death situation and was diagnosed with this disease. I was horrified at what I saw. He looked like a dead man walking. His eyes were sunken, his was frail and had an ashen color. I am so glad that his mom did not see him that day. His mom and I have had the opportunity to help nurse him back to health, more his mom than me but more Zac than anyone. I have seen a courage, a strength and a determination that I didn't know that he had. One that I don't think that I could have. I have seen sunken eyes begin to sparkle, fraility turn in to strength and a ashen look turn into a healthly look. I have heard him begin to laugh more and to communicate more. I have heard him say that what has happened to him the last few months is a miracle. So Zac, the best present I could get from you on this Father's Day has already been given-it is you-it is the miracle of you. Zac, I love you.

Inspired Faith

I, like many people, tend to struggle with this thing called faith. I think that that can be a good thing. Yet I keep coming back to the thing that many times has hurt or lessened my faith and that is the church. I have come to realize that there are very few in the church that do and say things that hurt. For the most part, we are all good people who struggle with the mundane everyday activities of life and it is that struggle within itself that brings us together. It has been the few but powerful that have caused so much damage. And the same can be said today, both from within and without the church.

For the last several months my struggle has been deeper that at times in the past. I have been asking the "Why?" question a lot. I still don't have the answer. But for some strange reason, in spite of the doubts, my faith in Him has become stronger. I don't understand all the ins and outs theologically but my faith in Him has grown. It seems that the one that we call Jesus is under constant attack in the academic world. Was he really who he claimed to be? Or did he ever claim to be who we say he is? Can we trust a book as reliable that apparently has inconsistencies? On a recent trip to Chicago I had the opportunity to visit the Chicago Art Institute. The first part of the exhibit that I viewed was the section on what I call religious art. I don't know the correct name. The art was amazing. Hundreds of years old. Artists who invariably protrayed this one I called Jesus as the son of the virgin Mary but who was also the son of God. I saw portrayals of the last supper, the denial of Peter, the betrayal of Judas and the crucifixion of Jesus. I was awed, not so much by the beauty of the paintings but the history of hundreds of years that told a story of people much like me, a people who may not know all the ins and outs of theology but who believed in this one called Jesus as the Messiah, the Christ, the Holy one of God. I walked in amazement and renewed faith. A faith renewed not by words on a page but words that had been put on canvas. The words were not even there but yet they were so powerful. The words that spoke, "believe in me."

I have been pondering these thoughts for several days and yesterday during communion my thoughts drifted back to those paintings. I saw my Savior in those paintings. I saw his love and the love of those who painted those pictures. I saw the love of one that has transcended hundreds of years but yet a love that still changes countless lives. Yes, all the same imperfections are present in God's people today. Yes, there are still the lingering theological questions but to me history and yes even these paintings suggest that there was one who was called Jesus who lived among men and suffered a very cruel death on the cross and who was indeed raised on the third day as the Christ. Why else would men and women through history follow one so, unless just maybe there was something to who he was-The holy one of God.

Playing in the dirt...do it now

Those of you who know me know that my grandson Brendan has stolen my heart. I absolutely love and adore the kid. I spent 3 1/2 wonderful days with him a few days ago. We strolled the day away in Berkley, went to the zoo, went to the park and spent a lot of time at home with me pushing the bike and watching him in the garden. The memories just keep flooding my brain. The last day was also fun but I had this empty feeling in my gut all day. I knew that I would be leaving my little buddy. Every time I thought about leaving I would have to fight the tears back. As we got closer to the airport I know my daughter-in-law noticed that I got quieter. Just the thought of having to say goodbye would bring tears to my eyes and it still does as I write this. When I got to the airport I rushed through the goodbyes so I wouldn't breakdown in front of Brendan and Amber. I did reach through the back window and did get a full face smile from Brendan when I pinched his nose and that was all that it took. I had to spend the next several minutes outside the airport getting myself together.

All of this has caused much reflection on my part. Why such huge waves of emotions with leaving Brendan? Do I love him that much? Yes. Do I miss him that much? Yes. Is there more? Yes.

My wonderful wife helped me figure it out. I think that I was a good dad when my kids were young but not a great dad. And with Brendan I feel that I have an opportunity to make up for some of the shortcomings. When my kids were old enough to play sports I remember being "all time quarterback" and having a great time. I remember coaching them in sports and attending a lot of sporting activities, but being with Brendan at his early age has helped me understand how much I missed when they were babies and toddlers. Last week I sat and watched Brendan play in the garden for an hour. Every now and then he would look up at me and smile but then continue in his on little world. I enjoyed that so much. I don't remember doing that with my boys though. I pushed Brendan on his "bike" and walked him in his stroller but I don't remember doing that with my boys. I have realized how much I really did miss as they were young because I had too many "important" things to do, like working too much and playing golf or just taking time for myself. The important thing would have been to immerse myself into their growing up. I can't undo it now but I sure as hell can make sure Brendan and little Will to come have plenty of time with pop. And to you young parents, nothing is more important than having time to play in the dirt with your kids. Do it now.

Up, Up and a weigh!!!!

I had the great experience of visiting my grandson (and son and daughter-in-law) this past weekend and it was a glorious experience. I also had the most awful flying experience ever on Southwest Airlines, not that they necessarily had anything to do with it. I always check in online so I can try to get an "A" boarding pass, that way I am one of the first on the plane and can usually get a good seat. If the plane is not full, I try to sit in the back with hopes of having an open seat next to me. Well, this time I sure didn't get an open sit. As a matter of fact, I felt like I had to share my seat for the four hour flight.

The last boarders were just getting on and I had TWO open seats next to me and I saw them at a distance. MR. FATMAN and his also very chubby wife. Now she wasn't fat but she was chubby. Now, I try not to be prejudicial about fat people. I don't have a lot of room to talk, I am probably 20 pounds overweight myself. But Mr. Fatman was probably 220 overweight, I kid you not. And Mrs. Chubby Fatman had a good extra 100 pounds on her. I knew when I saw them that I was in trouble. Mr. Fatman made direct eye contact and his eyes said, "your mine". I said to myself, "Oh Shit." Well maybe I said something else but I can't print that. He was so fat that he swished when his big 'ol lard thighs made contact with the seats. He actually had to walk sideways to get through and his big 'ol dough belly just kinda rolled over the seats. And of course Mr. and Mrs. Fatman came loaded with bags, not clothes bags but bags of food. I had seen this oh so sweet couple in the waiting area, I actually sat across from them and I heard him say, "I can't believe you spent $200 on souvenirs, good money gone to waste." Fatpeople translation: "I can't believe you spent $200 dollars on something you couldn't eat."

I politely got up to let Mr. and Mrs. Fatman wedge themselves into the seats. Literally wedge themselves into the $%#@(*& seats. He had a really hard time getting his seatbelt buckle. He actually said, "Damn, they worked on the way out." I wanted to say , "yeah but that was before you hit all the buffets in Vegas big boy." A smartass I am but stupid I am not, Mr. Fatman could have killed be sitting on me. The minute he sat down I knew that whatever he had for lunch had had onions on it. STRONG ONIONS!!! But I swear to you, I was squeezing everything I had together to fit back in my seat and the "boys" weren't happy. The only way that I could get back into my seat was to raise the arm rest on my seat, so I got to ride 4 hours to Birmingham (late at night) with my ass hanging into the aisle. Needless to say I got somewhat intimate with the flight attendants as the worked the aisles. I wanted to tell Mr. Fatman that the last time I got that close to someone it was my wife and I called her god. Fortunately, they only had to get up once to use the facilities and I still don't know how he got in and out of the bathroom. But they had to get up when Mrs. Fatman got sick after drinking THREE screwdrivers in about an hour.

But here's my beef (sorry), if I paid full price for my seat he should have had to give me a refund because I damn sure know that he used half of my seat. And why in the hell don't airlines make fatpeople buy an extra seat. Damn straight I'm mad. If I cover over 50 pounds in luggage I have to pay extra and Mr. Fatman looked like he had eaten a full set of luggage before he boarded the plan. And if fatpeople should even be allowed to fly they should have the "No Snore" rule for fatpeople. Hell, yes Mr. Fatman was able to sleep. His neck was so fat he had built in pillows and he slept like a long. I finally looked over at him and Mrs. Fatman just smiled that "Oh well" smile. And I wanted to say. "Listen you drunk bitch keep your fat husband quite." But again, I'm not stupid, she could have killed me with one of her big 'ol breasts. And to top it off Mr. Fatman decided to let one go. I didn't hear it but oh my goodness. You don't want to know. And to top it all of Mr. Fatman complained about the baby crying in the row behind us. I think the comment was something about the babies should all have to sit in the same area. And that gave me an idea, airlines should have a fat section where you have a weight limit and you are charge by the pound for every pound that you are over. Now that is the weigh to go.

Doctors, They say the darnedest things.

I've resisted writing this blog for three days now but finally had to succumb to the urge. If it didn't have to do with the medical profession I might have resisted but, "Doctors, they just say the darnedest things".

I had to visit my urologist on Wednesday. As you get older things just don't work as well as they used to and that happened to be the case with me and no it is not what you think, I didn't go for the little blue pill. Thankfully that still works just fine. I had an appointment at 1:30 and got there at 1:15, thinking that if I got there earlier that maybe I'd get out early. Well, fifty minutes later I had not even been called to pay my co-pay. They had this sign up stating, "If you have waited twenty minutes past your appointment, let us know." Those of you who know me know that I let them know. I kinda felt good about my letting them know how I felt when it suddenly dawned on me the mistake I had made. "You dumb ass, you are seeing a UROLOGIST-you don't want to make them mad-he has your future in his hands." Or at least he will shortly (excuse the pun). So I decide to calm down. Finally one hour and forty five minutes and four bathroom trips(now you know why I went to the doc) later I get called back to the examining room. And this mean looking nurse shoves a little container in my face and says, "we only need a little bit." I was highly pissed by now (oops another pun) and wanted to say, "well honey, I only have a little bit so that is all you are going to get" or some other smart ass answer but I told the truth. "Listen, I've been here for two hours and have peed four times and what ever is left you can have." Now that wasn't smartassed was it? I went and did the deed and came back and handed her my "specimen" (like they are doing some sort of great genetic research) and she smile and said in that kindergarten teacher voice, "Oh , you did so good." I wanted to say , "Listen you little..." Oh, never mind.

I sit in the room and listen to the doctor make his rounds. It is amazing how thin those walls are. I must have been on the guy wing of the hospital because all the patients he talked to were men. And I was the youngest. Man, these guys had some problems. Low testosterone. Blood in the urine...yuck. Kidney stones( been there done that). Erectile dysfunction( I want to be the guy that has to call the doctor after FOUR HOURS). There was one guy , sixty five, that had all sorts of problems but at the end of his exam said, "Oh, doc what about my sex drive?" Sixty five with a myriad of health problems and he's worried about sex drive. Damn, maybe getting old isn't so bad after all.

Finally, the doc comes in and apologizes for the wait. By this time, I wanted to thank him. The last thirty minutes had been quite entertaining. But now I realized that some jerk in the next room was going to be entertained by me. All the obligatory questions. Then the "drop the drawers" routine. He noticed my scare from hernia surgery and he actually rubbed the scar and asked, "who did your surgery?" Who the hell cares? I getting a little freaked out by now. Wow, doctors, what a fraternity? Then the bend over the table thing and it was at that point he asks, "Hows your sex life?" Damn, what is with this guy? I wished I had been in the position to raise my hand and say, "Ask him yourself!!!" But I did the "I'm out of town a lot and there is a lot going on in my life routine." And then he said and hold on, "You might want to consider *&^%$(*&^& a couple of times a week, that might help your condition." I wanted to come up off the table and take him by the neck and yell, "Where were you when I was sixteen, when I thought I would go blind." I never knew doctors could prescribe such things. It was just forty years too late. But, Doctors do say the darnedest things.

Theology for Dummies

I don't get around to posting much on this blog but I have been reading some other blogs that have peaked my interest lately. Most have been religious in nature. Here is a conclusion that I have come to after reading most of them. I just too damn dumb to understand what most are trying to say. My favorite theologian is NT Wright and may times I feel the same way about his writings. However, good old Tom often writes "dumbed down versions" for those of us who are looking for "Theology for Dummies"-damn I may have come up with a business idea. So here are my TOP TEN questions for the intellectual religious bloggers.

1) Who in the hell are you trying to impress? Certainly not me, my dictionary doesn't carry most of those words.

2) Do you really want comments from dumb-asses like me? If so, put it in language that I can understand.

3) Does your blog mean that you have been given the gift of tongues? If so, when do we get the interpretation?

4) Have any of you figured out exactly how many angels can dance on the head of a needle?

5) Can you tell me what you are reading so that I can make sure not to buy it? If I can't understand you, there sure in hell is no way that I will understand what you are reading.

6) Is it possible to understand the great religious texts and understand your blogs at the same time? If so, have you written "Theology for Dummies" yet?

7) Wouldn't it be easier just to re-write the great religious texts and then you wouldn't have to tell us what they mean?

8) Oh shit, I'm running out of questions.

9) Number 9 wasn't any good anyway.

10) Have any of you actually read your own blogs? Did you understand them? Maybe you should be the one to write "Theology for Dummies". Or better yet, always post two at the same time. The original and one that explains the original.

I guess I could stop reading them but then I would't have a blog to post.

Sit down and shut up

It's hard to know where to begin. The last week and a half have been a whirlwind. A week ago on Friday I flew to California to be with my son Zac. He was going through a tough time. He and I got to spend some really good time together. I did a lot of listening, which is a big change for me. But I learned a valuable lesson about just sitting down and shutting up. I learned to appreciate my son probably more than I ever had. I learned that he was a young man of great courage. He has had the courage to face certain issues straight on and has had the courage to make some courageous decisions. And his old man may just get to be the beneficiary of his courage. Zac and I, at least for right now, are planning on going into business together. More on that later, if we finalize those plans. But I think we both realized how much a like we are and I think that we also realized how much we really love each other. I am so proud of him.

I also got to spend some time with my other son, his wife and my little buddy Brendan. I got to be pops! and man did I love it. The more that I am with the kid the more I want to be around him more. He and Zac and myself went to the Oakland Zoo one day and we had a blast. He got to ride around on Uncle Zac's shoulders for most of the day and he loved it. He even got to see the giraffes mating. Zac and I both got a laugh out of that. The next day I took him to an indoor playroom and spent about three hours together. the boy didn't stop the whole time we were there.

Pops! then came home to his girls. My lovely wife and my little girl Daisy, our new Australian pup. She got to come to the airport with Jadda to pick me up. Now that Jadda is gone for a few days I am getting to "babysit". She is a constant ball of energy. She is my little girl. She is in that "toddle" stage-she is into everything and wants your constant attention.

One thing that I have learned the last few days is to value ALL my time with the people (or animals) that I love and to sit down and shut up.

pops!

Little buddies

Why do I go to church? I've really been thinking about that a lot lately. I struggle with this thing called "faith". Not because I don't believe in God, I do. Not that I don't believe in Jesus, I do. I consider myself a somewhat "progressive conservative Christian". I'm not sure what that means but I don't consider myself right wing or left wing politically or religiously. And I don't know if I'm in the middle. Hell, I just changed subjects. But why do I go to church? I really enjoy corporate worship. I may be weird but I really come closer to God in that environment that others and that may say a lot about why I struggle with this "faith" thing. But I think that the thing that I like most is the people. Just take last Sunday. I was a little late getting to church and I proceeded to my normal place. The Daniel family was not there but the Crockett's were and when my buddy Gavin saw me he smiled this huge smile and came over and hugged me around the legs. You talk about having your day made, well, my was. Most Sundays, when Gavin is there ,I get to look at his books, color and just enjoy him. Sometimes he will even lay his head on my shoulder and I just melt. I know Gavin likes me regardless of what I wear, what I think politically or what I think religiously. He likes "Mr. Hal" because...I really don't know why. But I hope he likes me because he knows that I love him. And even with little Sam, I am beginning to strike up a bond. He is still at the age where he wants to be with mommy and daddy but when he sees me he gives me that "look", that look that has a twinkle in his eyes and a little smile on his face. I sure sometime soon Gavin won't think it cool to sit in Mr. Hal's lap and color but maybe by then little Sam will. I really like my little buddies. They really make church-church. Why do I go to church? Are Gavin and Sam good enough reasons? I enjoy the worship. I enjoy Pastor Garry's sermons. I enjoy my time with Pastor Charlie. But Gavin and Sam help this old fart feel good every Sunday morning. And I guess that I also see in them another little buddy that I miss and love so much, my grandson Brendan. And I think that God is glorified in that. I think that He loved His little buddy. I can't help but think that as God looked down on Jesus from his time as a child until He finally was crucified that He looked down with pride on his "little buddy". So I think that God is pleased that on Sundays that I take time with my little buddies. And if that were all that I got out of church, that would probably be enough.

Hell, give him a chance!!!!

Yesterday, one of the most historic days of my life, I had to spend in meetings until after lunch. I missed seeing the inaguration of President Barack Obama. I had to watch the replay of the event last night on CSPAN. I had heard some conservative jerks, I mean commentators talk about the speech on my way to work yesterday afternoon. The commentary was that it was a very disjointed speech with no flow to it. I expected to hear a speech that was far from Obamaesque.

But I heard a speech that was more substance that flowery oratory. Did President Obama tell us the specifics of what he was going to do? No. But he was very honest and forthright. We are in a frigging mess and he promised to meet the problems head on. I am a lifelong Republican but I was inspired as I listened to his speech. A President saying that he couldn't, nor could the government solve our problems, he asked for our help as Americans. I for one want my President to succeed. I want a better country for my grandchildren. Do I agree with all his politics? Hell no, but I do believe him to be a good moral man that has a very positive vision for this country. How arogant can we conservatives be to think that the only right way is our way. President Bush has had eight years, and I understand that he faced difficult circumstances, but this country is not better off after having four years under his leadership. I believe W to be a good man but a leader who has severely divided this country. I hope that President Obama can unite our political leaders. He, so far, has done a good job of reaching across the aisle asking that we all unite for the common good of our great country. I, for one, do not think that the massive expansion of government is the way to go. But our last President, the man I voted for, began the expansion of government. Maybe President Obama can take the philosphy and make it work. I am willing to give him a chance. I am also willing to pray that President Obama becomes the leader that our country has not had in many years. A leader that inspires hopes, dreams and success.

This lifelong Republican actually cried when Aretha Franklin sang "My Country 'tis of Thee". I think that was the song. I was moved by emotion as I watch people from every walk of life being united rather than divided. I laughed and cried as I watched the Obama girls observe their Father receiving the oath of office to the highest position in the country. I was happy when Obama stumbled over his words, not because he screwed up but because it made him seem like one of us. Not a perfect man but an imperfect man seeking imperfect people to strive for perfection.

So what am I trying to say. Shut the hell up Limbaugh and Hannity. Listen to him for a change. Give the man chance.

The Kid

Last Sunday Pastor Garry spoke on our attitude towards riches and it wasn't the typical pastor sermon on giving. It was a honest look at how we should view stuff and how stuff shouldn't change how we look at ourselves. On the way home from church, as we got on our exit, there was a young man on the side of the road with a sign that said, "broke-hungry". The kid had to be in his early twenties and was wearing very light clothing for weather in the 40's, wet and windy. He was literally shaking, one of those whole body shakes as he begged for money. I think I ask one of the dumbest questions ever, "You got any place to stay." The kid kind of look at me like, well, you dumb ----, what do you think?" Rather he politely gave me a blank stare. India and I gave him ten bucks and I told him I'd be back later to check on him. I told him to go get something to eat. I was tired and wanted to go home and take a nap and thought that after I took care of myself then I could check on him.

I got home and realized how selfish I had been. I wonder what the kid would have thought if I had said hop in and let's go to our house. He could have taken a hot shower and had some of my wonderful homemade vegetable soup and who knows maybe we could have figured out a place for him to stay for the night. I turned around and went back to find him. Call it what you will, but he had broken my heart. I kept thinking about my sons when they were that age and how as a father I would have given anything to anyone if they had reached out to my sons if they were in that situation. I thought about my little buddy who one day will be a young kid who, God forbid, might need someone to reach out and lend a helping hand. I was more concerned with my nap than the welfare of some poor lost soul (not talking in the spiritual sense). Or maybe I am. Maybe true spirituality is to see the needy and respond. The kid needed a whole helluva lot more than ten bucks. He was gone when I went to check on him. I drove up and down the interstate and no kid. I check the convenience stores and no kid. I check the fast food places and no kid. I check the grocery stores and no kid. I checked under the overpass to the interstate and no kid. I cried. I felt that God had put me in this kids path or he had put him in mine. I had missed a God given opportunity to minister. A opportunity missed. It has haunted me all week. It literally made me sick that Sunday afternoon.

I have come to understand that christianity is a lot more than "leading someone to the lord". It is more than studying the Word. It is more than kneeling in prayer. It is more than loving my spouse. It is more than loving my boys. It is more than being overtaken by the love of my grandson. I just don't know if I really know what the "more" is. One thing I do know is that I will forever see the look on that kids face when I gave him ten bucks and know that he was wanting more. A more is not money. So maybe I do know what the more is. Not my money but me.

And I do pray that someone truly reached out to the kid.