A holiday time

When I was in elementary school at Ridgeway Elementary School in Columbia, MO, I had a music teacher named Celestine Hayes. At the time, I thought Mrs. Hayes was a nut. She would dance around the room and teach us silly songs for every holiday of the year. She had pictures of composers on the wall and made us learn their names. Looking back, I do think she was a nut, but in a good way. She clearly loved music and had a desire to incorporate classical music as well as various ethnic music styles into an elementary school music program that was relegated to the basement across the hall from the gym/cafeteria.

Anyway, one of the songs she taught us was about Cinco de Mayo. The lyrics are as such (look for a video of this song in the near future):
Cinco de Mayo is a holiday time, a holiday time in Mexico
Cinco de Mayo is a holiday time. To the fiesta we'll go, go, go. la la la la la.
Go, go, go. La la la la la.
Go, go go...

As we celebrate the independence of the people of Mexico
We'll be dancing through the streets
While the mariachi trumpets blow

And then you repeat the chorus. Nevermind the fact that Cinco de May isn't really about Mexican Independence (this is actually September 16th). It's a way fun song to sing. For the past few years I've called my sister and left the song on her voicemail on Cinco de Mayo.

This past week, I was at Montreat for the Annual Recreation Workshop. On Cinco de Mayo, I taught the song to many of my friends who were there. Some of them already knew it from having hung out with me on Cinco de Mayo in the past. That evening, we went in search of margaritas, but found out that Black Mountain restaurants don't serve liquor, so we headed to the nearby town of Swannanoa. The first Mexican restaurant we saw looked almost empty, but open, so we went in. We asked if they served maragaritas.

"No, friend. You have to go to La Cocula in Swannanona. Ask for Oscar. He'll take care of you." says the owner, who only has one eye.

"Yup, it's a few miles up the road near the Bojangles," says the older guys with crazy hair who then points us in the right direction with his middle finger...the only finger on that hand.

So, with the directions of the one eyed owner and the one-fingered pirate looking guy, we headed to La Cocula. Upon arrival, we asked for Oscar. We ordered some queso dip and some beer and margaritas. After a little while, we decided we would sing our Cinco de Mayo song. The table of 15 college students next to us loved it so they sang it with us. Before long, the entire restaurant was singing the Cinco de Mayo song.

On the way back to Montreat, we called many people and sang the song for them, either in person or on voicemail. I wish we had taken a video of us singing it to share on the blog, but you might just have to settle for me singing it.

So, all of that is to say, "Thank you Celestine Hayes for inspiring a wonderful evening with good friends (who will remain nameless, because they don't like being mentioned on my blog, but you know who you are :))."

iPods that think

I've read some articles about the phenomenon of thinking that iPods somehow know just what you want to listen to and cue it up from time to time. I had one of those moments today. I recently added an upbeat running mix to the iPod shuffle, and I was coming up on the time in my run when I wanted to listen to it. As Two Step by Dave Matthews Band was wrapping up, I thought, "It's time to shuffle through and find one of the songs on that playlist." The very next song that popped up was the first song on the playlist. Strange.

Also, I'm still pretty convinced that, pound for pound, the 1992 Cavaliers show is one of the most entertaining in DCI history. I just don't get tired of listening to/watching those guys.

Mondays with Aunt Jane and Uncle Bob

This afternoon, as I was returning from running at the gym (the skies opened up as I tried to run out the front door), I saw a high school student jump in a car that was waiting to pick him up just across the street and down the block from the high school near where I live. I immediately jumped back to Mondays in junior high, when my Mom would wait across the street and down the block to pick me up so that we could go to my Aunt Jane and Uncle Bob's house. We would swing by, pick up my sister, and then head to their house for an afternoon of lemonade, popcorn, chocolate chips, solitaire, Authors (a card game like Go Fish), and endless conversation, often surrounding current events. My Uncle Bob was a bit of a codger and loved to call all elected officials "turkey." As I got older, I think he enjoyed baiting me with outlandish statements, just to hear how I would respond.

When I was in high school, my friends and I would occasionally go ride our bikes or walk on an old train trail that had been converted to a multi-use trail throughout Columbia, MO. Aunt Jane and Uncle Bob's house wasn't far from the trail, so we would hike through the woods and show up on their back deck for a glass of lemonade.

That house and that back deck hold a million wonderful memories for me. This past fall I mourned the death of my Uncle Bob. He was good about sending me an e-mail every once in awhile just to make sure i was doing OK. I will be forever grateful to my friend who was standing there when I got the phone call that he had died and simply hugged me until I said, "OK."

I was able to see Aunt Jane again at Thanksgiving and Christmas. It's been a joy to see her flourish in a retirement community. She was such an integral part of my childhood and shaped the way I understand hospitality.

Anyway, I saw a kid get in a car today, and I was transported back to Mondays in junior high.

Holy moments

Sometimes, in the midst of a moment in life, I'm able to practice that third person perspective taking and see myself in a holy moment. Here are a few I've experienced in the past week or so:

Lunch with Mary Bowles: Mary is a member of my congregation who embodies love and nurture. From day one at Harpeth, she has been so supportive of me. At one point during lunch, we were both sharing stories of hurt and frustration with the way life goes sometimes. I appreciate people like Mary for whom life doesn't always have to be OK, and who doesn't always have to have an answer for why things happen.

Playing music by the campfire Friday night: I can look back on my life and think of a number of times when I was making music and I felt completely and totally alive. Friday night was one of those times. I had sat down with a youth to teach him a few youth group songs on guitar...you know, the ones that use G, C, D, and A. As we sat there working through Lord, I Lift Your Name on High, Every Move I Make (same chord structure), Light the Fire, and Prince of Peace, two of our congregation's more brilliant guitar players/singers sat down with their guitars and began playing. At one point while all four of us were playing Prince of Peace, and folks around us were joining in the singing, I seemed to lose track of where I was. Truly making music with Pat, Bob, John David, Hannah, and Cayla was powerful stuff.

Looking out the window with Sophie: I've blogged about Sophie before. She rocks. Today we had some free time at our church family retreat, and Sophie wanted to show me "this really cool room." It was a pretty cool room. There were bunk beds and even a bed up in a little nook near the ceiling. The two of us sat down on a rather large window sill (kind of like a bay window, but 20 feet long) and looked out the window at the trees that are trying so hard to bloom here in middle Tennessee. We talked about where she might stay at the next family retreat and how much she liked the purple leaves of the dogwood trees. At one point, I looked over at her and she looked back at me and simply smiled and then giggled. We should all probably have more smiling and giggling moments on big window sills.

A good run

On Tuesday, it was a beautiful, sunny, 70+ degree day, so I decided to go for a long run...well, it was also on the schedule for training, but the beautiful weather made it much easier to actually get out there. Anyway, as I was running, I had three "moments of zen" if you will.

1. Mile 2: I heard a car honk and looked up to see Streater Spencer, and whoever else was with her, in her red jeep with the Ole Miss license plate waving at me. I felt the Harpeth love.
2. Mile 7: I looked up to see Jadyn Stevens, a fellow Harpeth runner (actually the premiere Harpeth runner...dude qualified for Boston with a 3:01 marathon...sick) and friend driving toward me. We seemed to see one another at the same time. He pumped his fist and honked his horn for a good block after he had passed me. I gave him a responsive fist pump and felt a spring in my step.
3. Mile 7.5: Shortly after I saw Jadyn, the song I See Love by Third Day came up on the ipod shuffle. It's a wonderful song about seeing love in all that Jesus was and did. Something about the chorus and bridge really lifted my spirits as I was finishing up my run. For a few moments there, I was joyfully aware of the love that God has for me.
   

So, yeah, it was a good 8 mile run on a beautiful day. Thanks to Streater, Jadyn, Third Day, and God the creator, redeemer, and sustainer for making it one full of love.

Domestics vs Imports

So, last night I went to hear some of my church members perform at a local bar/performance venue. They were awesome, as usual. Their daughter even premiered a song she had written. Only in Nashville, right? Anyway, as I looked at the beer menu I was frustrated, as I often am, to see that under the list of "Import" beers, there were plenty of beers that are brewed, bottled, and distributed all in the United States. For example, on this particular list, there was:

• Shiner Bock-Texas
• Sam Adams-Boston (I think)
• Fat Tire-Colorado
• Yazoo-Hello, this is made in Nashville...like a mile from the bar!

It probably shouldn't bother me as much as it does, but I think there ought to be a law or something against such false advertising. Here's what I propose for labeling such menus:

• Beers we charge less for
• Beers we charge more for

or

• Not so fancy beers
• Fancy beers

Any additional suggestions would be most welcome. :)

Bad Technology Week

So, on Sunday, I installed a new programmable thermostat at the estate (which may soon be officially called Bancroft Down, as I'm loving Watership Down), and I was feeling pretty handy. Well, come Monday, apparently all of my technology chops completely disappeared. Here's what's happened this week...so far:

• Monday evening: I finally found some DVD ripping/converting to ipod format software I liked. I spent some time converting some Cavaliers DVDs so I could put them on my 80 gb ipod classic. As I was fiddling with the Movies settings for the ipod, I clicked the "Sync Movies" button, and promptly ignored the popup screen warning me that all media on my ipod would be erased if I followed through with that. Yeah, I ignored it, assuming it only applied to other movies I had on it, which were none. Nope, it wiped all 20 gb of music as well. The 20 gb of music that I don't keep on my hard drive. This was right before bedtime, and I really thought I might just throw the ipod through the window. Thankfully, I backed up my entire CD collection as I loaded it onto the ipod over a year ago. With some transferring of files and ripping of maybe only a dozen CDs, I'm back in operation. But, that moment of realizing everything is gone is not a good one.
• Tuesday afternoon: Ran with my ipod shuffle. Listened to a chapter or two of Twilight as I ran.
  
• Wednesday morning: Plugged in my ipod shuffle only to see that the remaining three discs of Twilight that I had loaded on it just this past weekend are now gone, along with a number of other songs I know I had on it at some point. Where did all of those tracks go? I have no earthly idea. Did I keep the Twilight tracks (that I ripped from a Nashville Public Library CD) on my hard drive? Of course not. When did I return the Twilight CDs to the library? Tuesday afternoon. I seriously have no earthly idea what happened there. I kind of wonder if I didn't do something in my sleep. Maybe the shuffle realizes when something has been removed from the hard drive.
• Wednesday evening: Remember how I said I installed a thermostat? Well, I had shut down all the power in the house so I didn't electrocute myself. When I walked in the door tonight at 8:40 pm, I noticed that the VCR was not, in fact, recording Lost so I could sit down with a cup of hot tea, a brownie, and enjoy the next chapter in the Lost universe. Nope, I never did reset my VCR. Brilliant, no?

So, there it is...my bad technology week.

Adjusting to flip-flops

The weather in middle Tennessee has been exquisite the past few days...so exquisite that on Saturday night, after going for a 12 mile run, when I headed to Kroger to find some dinner, I broke out the flip-flops for the first time this year. I'm not gonna lie-I almost fell down two or three times. Do you ever find that it takes a little while to re-adjust to wearing flip-flops? I feel like it usually takes me about a week of wearing them to get the kinks out. I mean, I'm not complaining about wearing flip-flops in February. I'm just saying my feet were a little weirded out.

Reading at Puckett's

I hadn't been to my favorite breakfast spot for a few weeks, so this morning I decided to head to Puckett's. It made me happy inside that as soon as I walked in, I was greeted by the waitresses and Pam, the one assigned to my table, after bringing me a coffee and a water said, "Leiper's Fork, 12 Grain, scrambled, with bacon?" She knew exactly what I wanted, because that's what I often order. It's good to be known.

While at Puckett's, I read my way through The Week, a weekly news magazine that doesn't mess around with long articles. It summarizes news coverage of major events in the US and around the world, including editorials. Anyway, there was a half page on the Talking Points page with the heading "Bush: Did he keep us safe?" It began by quoting a former member of the Bush team who claims that we'll probably be attacked again soon because Barack Obama is putting an end to torture and violent interrogation techniques. The half page went on to summarize various viewpoints on the issue of torture and staying safe from terrorism.

I suppose my response to this is affected by my recent reading of Walking with the Wind by John Lewis of the civil rights movement. Over and over, Lewis talks about the need for the means of accomplishing ones goals must match the ends one is seeking to achieve. In his case, he had the ideal of a Beloved Community in which race and gender do not dictate one's position in society...a Beloved Community of peace and non-violence. As I read about and hear debates about torture, interrogation techniques like waterboarding, and suspension of Habeus Corpus, I am often concerned that this "safety" we are trying to achieve/sustain will be false, in that we have compromised the safety of "the bad guys" so we can feel secure. Why do we deserve to be safe if we have compromised our values of human dignity and respect? Who should we expect people in other parts of the world to engage us in peaceful ways when we invade their countries or at the very least supply their enemies with tanks and weaponry? I suppose I often come back to the question of why safety/security is held as such a high value. Why is that the trump card? Why are we willing to sacrifice so many other values in the pursuit of this amorphous conept of safety and security?

Faith in 3D

I just spent the past few days at the Faith in 3D youth conference in Orlando, FL. It was a collaborative effort between the Presbyterian Church USA, The Episcopal Church, and Cooperative Baptist Fellowship. Yeah, there's a joke in there somewhere. It was a good conference, and I was able to explore Disney World a bit. Here are some the thoughts I'm having now that I'm home:

• I'm really thankful for friends I see every few years, but who seem to know me just a well (or maybe even better) than the people I see all the time.
• I used to really hate the last day of a conference because of all the goodbyes. I was worried I wouldn't ever get to see my favorite people again. Now, it's not as if I love the goodbyes, but I've come to realize that it isn't really goodbye so much as it's see you later. I hadn't seen my good friend and mentor Keith Harris for a couple of years, but our goodbye didn't need to be teary or emotional or any of that. It could simply be an acknowledgment of mutual affection and a knowing look of "hope to see you sooner than later."
• This was the second time this month I heard Tony Campolo speak. He makes a strong case for living a life of discipleship that's based in action. I've spent the past month wondering how it is I'm supposed to be taking a stand and affecting change in the world. Hearing him again this weekend reminded me that I need to get off my duff. I have now given myself the arbitrary deadline of February 1st to choose a cause or organization to give more time to.
• I'm totally psyched about tomorrow, when Barack Obama will be inaugurated as the 44th President of the United States. I'm excited about the message of hope and service to one's fellow human beings that he represents. I'll be watching all the festivities with eager anticipation.
  

Go Tell it on the Mountain

Random thoughts for the week:

• I'm sitting here with my window open and wearing short sleeves. It was in the 70's most of the day today. I'll take that for December 19th. If it's this nice tomorrow, I'm totally going to play golf.
• I'm in the midst of reading Walking with the Wind: A Memoir of the Movement by John Lewis. That dude was staging sit-ins and riding buses into the segregated south when he was in college. He ended up in jail on numerous occasions. Sometimes I wonder what the heck am I doing with my life. I've never been to jail for something like that...or ever for that matter.
• On Wednesday, our church had a program called Angel Vespers, which is basically an impromptu Christmas pageant. It's a bit like herding cats in that I, as the director, ask for volunteers from the children, youth, and adults who are present. One never knows who will volunteer and for what. I had a pre-schooler who was pretty determined to have a reading part. I was able to keep him happy by setting him up as an angel for awhile, but eventually, he got his hand on a script and a live microphone. The program was winding down, so I figured, "What the heck. What can happen?" Well, he proceeded to use that microphone to broadcast his voice throughout the hall on each chorus of Go Tell it on the Mountain, which he knew from the preschool Christmas program earlier in the day. As his older sister would get close and attempt to take the microphone away, little Jay gave her the old stiff arm and held strong. It was absolutely hilarious. When we were done singing, he said something like, "Our first lesson today will be from consription chapter 222 verse 17" and then launched into a sermon of sorts before the people running the sound board killed the mic. I kind of wonder what kind of inspired word he might have offered. :)
  
• Last Saturday I went to a local brewery for a tour and samples of the fine product...with my church choir. I love my church.
• 

My Wednesday morning

So, usually on Wednesday mornings I sit in my chair (the one that sweet Mary Smith gave me when I first moved here) with my laptop in my lap catching up on e-mails and facebook. Sometimes I'll read or do some curriculum development or some other work stuff I can do from my chair. On winter days, I'm always thankful for the heat of the laptop on my legs as I sit there.

Well, today I exchanged the laptop for a baby. My friends asked me to watch their precious little boy while they checked out a potential school for their almost 3-year-old daughter. After a little but of eye-ing one another, little baby boy got ahold of his pacifier and drifted off to sleep. I still did some reading, but took plenty of moments to simply watch the little guy. So, on this Wednesday, here's what I had to look at instead of e-mails or facebook.
Yeah, that's way better than a laptop. :)

On the road again...

Yesterday, I made the 7-hour trek from Columbia, MO back to Franklin, TN. About halfway home, after finishing up A Thousand Splended Suns on CD, memorizing my sermon text for Sunday, and talking through the sermon, I decided to fire up the ipod and listen to some albums straight through, without the shuffle feature. I mean, how often do we do that anymore with ipods? Here are some of the "albums" I listened to, the people they made me think of and the memories they reminded me of:

James Taylor Greatest Hits: Annual trips to Montreat in that First Presbyterian Church 15 passenger van, John Weicher-he loves James Taylor, driving around town in Columbia, MO as a high school student with this tape playing loudly in my car. While this CD brought back many happy memories of friends and travels and love being showered on me, it also caused a certain yearning in my heart...a yearning for that friend I can call and a yearning to escape to the peaceful mountains of North Carolina. This is one of those CDs I can truly listen to from start to finish and enjoy every moment.

Caedmon's Call/Caedmon's Call: This CD makes me think of seminary, as I listened to it a good bit my first couple of years at Columbia. Anna and I listened to it on our way back to Atlanta after Christmas break that first year. I particularly appreciate Cademon's Call ability to find beauty and meaning in everyday things, like cups of coffee and bus drivers.

Long Island Shores/Mindy Smith: The sweet girl who gave me this CD was on my mind the entire time I was listening to it last night. Those opening notes always take me back to that parking lot where that sweet girl handed me the CD, and our eyes met for a brief moment, and I knew we were headed into "more than two people who hang out sometimes" territory. I was struck by how poignant the first song was...how that sweet girl eventually expressed those sentiments to me as she expressed her own need to change a few things. Such beautiful music, but tinged with sadness.

Red Light, Blue Light/Harry Connick Jr.: Ryan Brown, Molly Nahm, Renee Wenger, and Colleen Reid. These were the people I hung out with most of my freshman year of college when I listened to this CD almost daily. For some reason, it also made me think of a fun snowy day of sledding in St. Louis when I visited some of those college friends over Christmas break. Ryan was there with his brothers, as were Molly and Colleen. It's a cherished memory for me. I remember sitting in my parents' basement during Christmas break that year and listening to this CD while thinking about all of my new friends.

While I do love setting up playlists or simly allowing the shuffle feature to run rampant on my ipod, there's something great about simply allowing an album to play in its entirety...in the order in which its creators meant for it to be listened. I enjoyed the trip through memory lane for that chunk of highway between CoMo and Franktown.

Marathon Accomplished

Well, folks, I can now officially put "Marathoner" in my list of adjectives to describe myself. That's right, on Sunday, November 16th, 2008, I ran 26.2 miles in an official marathon race. Here's a rundown of the day:

Pre-race:

• Awoke early to eat breakfast and drink water and gatorade.
• Got in the car to make the trek to downtown San Antonio.
• Found myself in heavy traffic on my way to the shuttle site.
• 40 degrees outside when I got out of my car
  
• Got on the shuttle bus at 7:40
• Race time was 7:30.
• Arrived at the start village around 8:00
• Jumped in with corral 16 to begin race around 8:15
• My corral was supposed to be 6

Marathon:

• For the first 6 miles, I found myself in the midst of people running a much slower pace than I was hoping to run
• Mile 8: the crowd thinned out a bit and I was able to find a stride I liked
• Mile 11: The half marathoner's peeled off. I was feeling good
• Mile 13.1: Crossed the marker at 2 hours 1 minute, only a couple of minutes off the pace I wanted to run and had been training for
• Mile 16: Begin to feel tired in the legs...a half mile after passing up free goo packets.
• Mile 18: OH MY GOSH!! Why won't my legs keep moving? Am I overheated or chilly? Beginning to lose more time as my pace lessens.
• Mile 19: Use the goo packet I have in my pocket. Drink plenty of water with it. Feel good for about a mile.
• Right before mile 20: Took a break to, um, powder my nose. :)
• Right after mile 20: Is it getting dark out here? Does anybody else feel really chilly? I sat down and then laid down on the cool, shaded sidewalk to allow the "I'm gonna pass out" feeling to subside
• Miles 21-25: A great mixture of running and walking. I couldn't ever quite get back to a comfortable pace.
• Mile 25-26: I decided to kick it into gear and run the rest of the way, however slow that running might be. As I came into the final stretch, I cued up the music from the battle scene in The Gladiator.
• Mile 26-26.2: No lie, the final .2 miles were a steep hill the finish line. I mean, seriously? :) At that point I was cruising along to the music from Gladiator, hearing the crowd cheer, and holding back the weeping that I was doing as I thought about accomplishing the marathon.
• Finish Line: As I crossed the final checkpoint and finish line, I put my arms in the air and thanked God for seeing me through.

Final time (according to my Garmin Forerunner that auto paused during the time on my back): 4:54:05.

Official Time (according the chip strip on my foot): 5:04:41

Yes, for all you math whizzes out there, it took me almost 3 hours to finish the second half of the marathon as opposed to the 2 hours it took me to finish the first half. Kind of a bummer, but, as one person said, at least I didn't end up with a gash in my face because I kept running to the point of passing out.

Around mile 22, I was cursing myself for attempting such a feat, but as I came up on mile 24, I realized that I was going to finish, and that while it didn't go exactly as I had planned, I was still going to attain the status of marathoner.

Will I ever run another one? At mile 22, I would have said, "HELL NO! NOT IF YOU PAID ME!" Now, after a couple of days of recovery and reflection, I think I might. Not anytime soon, mind you, but maybe in a couple of years. My goal would be to do it with more success.

For now, I'm just recovering and drinking plenty of water.

Thank you to everyone who prayed for me, texted me, called me, e-mailed me, facebooked me, and generally sent well wishes my way.

ATT's plan change policy sucks

So, about a year ago, I added more monthly minutes to my cell phone plan. I was using somewhere in between the 450 minutes plan and the 900 minutes plan, but was tired of paying those "nasty overages." Well, in the course of the year, I've accumulated about 4,000 roll over minutes. I looked at some recent bills, did some basic math and decided that I could drop back to the 450 minutes plan and live off roll over minutes for at least year, maybe more. Ah, but when I went to push that Select Plan button for 450 minutes a month, this message appeared:

NOTE: By requesting a new rate plan with rollover, your accumulated Rollover Minutes in excess of the new plan's number of monthly anytime minutes will expire at the beginning of your next bill cycle.
Example: If you currently have 1,000 Rollover Minutes and you change to the Nation 900 with Rollover plan, you can only carry over 900 of your Rollover Minutes to your new rate plan.
Do you want to continue with your rate plan change?

What a crock!!! I mean, seriously? Doesn't that fly in the face of flexibility and all that noise? I certainly plan to call AT&T tomorrow and see if I can't get a managerial type to make an exception or at least explain the reasoning. Oh, I get it that they don't want people like me racking up a bunch of rollover minutes and then spending time whittling them down on a cheaper plan, but I think that's lame. I could always threaten to leave, but who am I kidding? I want an iphone. :)

For now, I'm using my readership of 10 people to complain about a business doing its best to make money...oh wait, that's what they're supposed to do.

It's official...

Yes, folks, I have entered the world of being a slum lord. OK, so my place isn't really a slum, and I don't wear polyester pants, sport an unruly mustache, or anything like that. But, I do now have a roommate. After taking a look at the finances so far in 2008, I realized I was leaking money onto the credit card each month at a less than desirable rate. I placed an ad on Craigslist and found a cool guy who was looking for a room. He moved in yesterday, Wednesday. When I got home last night, I walked into the wonderful smell of bacon. "I eat a lot of bacon sandwiches," he said as I walked upstairs to greet him. When I opened the fridge this morning, I noticed that the only thing he added to the mix was beer. I think this is gonna work out quite nicely. :)

It's also official that BARACK OBAMA has been elected President of the United States of America. I'm really psyched. I came home on Tuesday evening and watched all of the coverage. I felt like both John McCain's concession speech and Barack Obama's acceptance speech were well written and well articulated. I particularly like the part where Obama called on people to join in conversation with him, particularly those with whom he disagrees. What a shift in Presidential demeanor. Awesome! I woke up Wednesday morning chanting O-BA-MA, O-BA-MA, O-BA-MA.

All of that being said, I hope that we followers of Jesus Christ remember that ultimately, our faith, hope, and trust are placed in God's redemption of the world, and not in the policies of any politician. I refuse to acknowledge as legitimate some of the messiah rhetoric surrounding Obama. I do think he will be a President who calls on us to come together and to care for some of the least of these, but, in the end, we people of faith are called to be lights to the world and should continue to show compassion and fight for justice, and never abdicate the call of discipleship to any government. Just to be clear: Barack Obama will not bring about a new heaven and a new earth or usher in the kingdom of God on earth. God will do that in God's time.

Wish I were a song writer

Among all of the stuff I've been doing lately, last week I stood in line for 40 minutes to cast my vote for Barack Obama. No matter how many times I go to vote, I still get a rush from stepping behind the screen and seeing the ballot. While my anxiety has gone down with the use of electronic ballots (no chance of punching the wrong hole and having to ask for a new ballot), I still have a moment of fear/anxiety/something when I hit the CAST YOUR VOTE button. What if I accidently voted for some random person? Anyway, I was glad to cast my vote and hope that everybody else gets out there to make their voice heard.

Yesterday, Sunday, I wished I were someone who wrote music that would inspire others.

10:30 worship service at Harpeth: On the first Sunday of each month, our congregation usually celebrates the Lord's Supper, and as a part of that ritual, we sing the classic vocal arrangement of The Lord's Prayer. This is always a meaningful experience for me, but yesterday I was transported to another place. You see, instead of communion, we had a candle lighting ritual to celebrate All Saint's Day. People were invited to come and light a candle in memory of someone who showed them what it means to be a person of faith. At that service I lit a candle in memory of Duke Walthall, an elderly man in my congregation back home who took an interest in me as a young boy. For some reason, I was drawn to this man, and he always took time to talk to me, listen to me, and encourage me in matters of faith and life in general. He was a retired pastor and was one of those people who, as the old children's sermon story goes, "the light shines through." As we were singing The Lord's Prayer, I watched the dance of the hundred or so lit candles on the table, and meditated on the generations of folks who had been saying those words through the centuries. As the voices of the congregation swelled to sing the final For thine is the kingdom, and the power and glory forever I could swear those little flames swelled as well, reaching as high as they could to offer praise to God. Maybe it was just the rush of oxygen as people sang louder in that direction, but I don't think so. I felt as if the Spirit was present, drawing praise even from those candles, just as the Spirit had drawn praise from the people those flames represented. It was a moment when I was acutely aware of the power of music to transform words into something more...that our souls were indeed praying not only the words, but also the melody to God. As I walked down the aisle toward the back door where I would greet people on their way out into "the real world," I wished I were someone who was able to compose music that inspired people to worship in grace and truth.

Various and sundry thoughts

It seems messed up that I was totally psyched to see that Regular Unleaded only cost $3.35 at my local Mapco this morning. That is messed up, right?

I ran 18 miles on Saturday. The last four were arduous. I'm not sure that sub-four hour time is completely realistic anymore. I'm still out there pounding the pavement, though, and will definitely be in San Antonio running with 30,000 of my best friends on November 16th.

I seriously don't know how you 12-hour work day Monday-Friday folks do it. I had two 12-hour days in a row and I could barely get out of bed this morning. Let alone all of you parents who work for money all day and then come home to care for kids until bedtime. Much respect to folks who do that.

I went over to the Gentry residence last night (wasn't exactly sure how to make Gentry plural and include the apostrophe there) to watch some Monday Night Football, drink a beer, and munch on chips and wings. That is one cool family. Their kids are totally psyched about church. I taught our children a few energizers on Wednesday afternoon last week and these two were talking about how they'd been doing them at school. I'm very thankful for that family. Their enthusiasm for church and diving into matters of faith on a daily basis inspires me and affirms my sense of call to ministry.

Marathon Training: October 7th, 2008

Lest all you Renderings fans think I've fallen off the wagon, I have been training. Two Thursdays ago I actually put in a 16 mile run. The run itself felt great. The two hours following...not so much. As I watched McCain and Obama debate, I laid on the couch shivering and feeling the effects of over exertion. I think the mass amounts of Gatorade I chugged when I got home didn't help either. :)

Last week, I was supposed to put in a 12 mile run, but due to an outside temperature of 47 degrees when I woke up, I postponed a bit and only had time for 10.5.

This week, at some point (probably Friday), I'll be running 18 miles. Yes, I'll run for almost three hours. It's kind of crazy to think about, but when I'm in the midst of those long runs, it just becomes a game of one foot in front of the other.

While on my 10.5 mile run last week. I saw this sign in a yard:

Yeah, I've been thinking about taking a big poster of a United States flag, putting a big black X through it on one side and writing the same message on the other. That might have something to do with the fact that I heard Shane Claiborne speak last week, and thus was fired up about the idolatry of the US. Anyway, it's probably a big assumption to make that the people who posted this sign place a lot of faith in the USA and the military and the flag and all of those other idols, but I went ahead and made the assumption anyway. Yes, I might be making and ass out of u & me, but I don't really care. I do wonder what people who posted this sign have to say about the war, about the security state, about fear mongering, or any of the other tactics of Karl Rove and his cronies. Maybe I should stop in next time and ask.

Wet sloppy kisses between heaven and earth

A couple of times over the past month, I've gone to a worship experience in Brentwood that's specifically geared toward young adults (and implicitly single young adults) called The Loop. It's one of those non-denominational communities of faith that's seeking to be "different," yet follows the typical pattern of 30 minutes of singing followed by 30-40 minutes of a "talk" and another 10 minutes of singing. Of the two talks I've heard, one was iffy and the other (the one i heard last night) was fairly decent, but still not as rooted in the actual, oh, Bible, as I would prefer.

Anyway, the title of this blog post refers to lyrics from the song we sang after the talk last night. There was actually a line that read: Heaven and earth exhange a wet and sloppy kiss.
Seriously.
That was the lyric.
Wet sloppy kisses between heaven and earth.
I'm not kidding.
I mean, I'm used to the requisite "Jesus is my boyfriend" lyrics, but wet sloppy kisses? Thankfully, as I conversed with some folks afterward, I found out that I wasn't the only one who kind of looked around and wondered if I'd actually just seen those lyrics on the screen.

Much peace on this beautiful day in Nashville.