iPhone apps? Whatever...

So many of my christian brothers and sisters own iPhones. Anyone who casually reads this blog knows that I feel real christians use BlackBerry devices... but I feel that I must soften my stance a bit. Now, I simply see iPhones users as misguided. It will still be a struggle to fellowship with them, but someone's got to do it. Especially since LifeChurch has created additional strife by streaming services to iPhones, as in iPhones only (for now, I hope).

Whatever. Thanks a lot, Brandon! Now BJ, Ron, Amanda, Danny and Pamela Edwards all have bragging rights.

Ron is one of these misguided people. Still, if anyone can use his iPhone as a ministry tool, it's Ron. And despite my misgivings, I caught myself enjoying an article about another iPhone bible. As if there not enough compelling reasons as to why the iPhone can be a powerful ministry companion.

It goes to show: the gospel can be propagated. Even on the iPhone. I still will throw rocks at Ron and BJ.

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Furniture, Race and Music

Twitter/FaceBook buddy Pastor Ben Cotten always finds these gems...

Wow. I guess High Point is a melting pot. At least, as far as furniture is concerned.

One somewhat unrelated thought was the fact that one thing that does surely help one overcome prejudice (or at least shields it for a season) is money. Don't read too much into my ramblings here... this really has nothing to do with the ad. However, I do believe that nothing strips away the facade of tolerance than some hard times.

Ah... let us bask in the musical stylings of the crew at the The Red House...

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Hate to wait...

I am not big on waiting. I was a preemie at birth, and ever since then, patience has never been my strong suit.

That is why this simple, short blog post from Amanda Sims speaks to me. It's also a reason she has made my "People I dislike..." shortlist. Stay tuned for that...

Thanks, A!

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Why?

It's the beautiful game... and I love to coach it.

Growing up, my dad couldn't wield the pigskin, or dribble a basketball, and he was probably more acquainted with cricket than baseball... but he knew how to play football -- real football. My earliest memories consist of him showing me the basics outside our home in Minnesota.

People don't understand the immense honor and privilege it is to have the opportunity to coach and teach young people. Coaching youth sports is the ultimate elixir; it makes you a better person.

You see both sides of the coin. When you do right, there is no losing. You might come up on the wrong side of a result, but there are a million potential victories in every loss. Sometimes, it's hard to find them... but that's why finding them is so much sweeter.

I thought playing the game was great. After I got hurt, I missed the action. To this day, I can't walk by a set of goals without a sense of hunger.

But nothing compares to the look of a 12 yr-old who looks up at you with complete trust. In that instant, you are humbled by the sheer weight of the situation. Hey Coach: you are it. In that space of time, practice or game, you are influencing a young person's life. You are teaching them. And, if you are blessed enough to recognize the opportunity, you also teach yourself.

You see, long after the whistle, long after the cupcakes and ice cream, it is so much more than the leather sphere, boots and gloves. It's about fellowship, family and sharing love for the beautiful game.

That's why I do it.



Sent via BlackBerry

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485ing it.

How reassuring the sound of a bird chirping is.

Against the background of speeding vehicles, it is downright heavenly.

Where am I? On I-485, the branching interstate that flanks the parent I-85 in Charlotte. I had just experienced a tire blowing out, and it wasn't fun.

I was (still am, hopefully) headed to watch a soccer game with my U-13 Girls team as the first leg of an evening of practice and team-building. So, naturally, I am disappointed sitting here waiting for AAA to get here and tow me to a tire shop.

In any case, now that my pulse has returned to normal, I feel somewhat let down. When I heard the pop, I had the weird sensation that someone had shot at me.

I figured I had to be making mighty moves for the kingdom, and someone was trying to take me out. Or, with the BET Awards at hand, someone had mistaken me for a musician driving a Honda and decided to take that diss record I made a decade ago personal. Or, a local youth pastor warning me about innocently poaching some of his youth.

Or, it could be a blown tire.

In any case, I am safe, and grateful for the prayer tweets coming in (along with the suggestions to look for stale fries and lemon-crusted squirrel from Pam and Karen).

Plus, I finally have tan lines, and that, my friends, is no small feat.

Picture courtesy of Wiki Commons.


Sent via BlackBerry

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God hates Twitter

I'll leave the commentary to y'all. I mean that. I won't utter a word.

Okay, just one word. Really?!

Keep in mind that this is not a denominational issue...

http://tech.yahoo.com/blogs/null/142309

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*Space reserved*

... for future testimony...

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Sheep thieves and saints

Years ago, I read an interesting story.

Two young men, friends upon a wayward path, decided to steal a sheep. Unfortunately for them, they were caught and sent before the elders of the clan.

Justice was swift and brutal.

That evening, before the entire village, the two men were tied up, set on their knees, and each had the initials "ST" branded on their respective foreheads, denoting Sheep Thief. For the rest of their lives, there would be a permanent reminder of their transgression for the whole world to see, and a deterrent to other would-be criminals.

The one youth became despondent. He moved to the edge of the town and morphed into a grumpy recluse noted for his mean disposition. He lived out the rest of his years in shame and self-imposed solitude.

The second boy was different. After a brief period of shame and regret, he slowly began to dedicate his life to serving others. There wasn't a person in need he didn't try to help; he became renown for his kind works and his Godly ways. Eventually, he was looked upon as an example of virtuous living, and people strove to be in his company.

One day, when the second was an old man, a visitor to the land asked his host what the ST on the man's forehead stood for.

"Don't really remember," said his host, scratching his head, " but I am fairly positive it means "'Saint'."

This story isn't mine, and I wish I knew the author to ask forgiveness for butchering it, but it has always resonated with me.

Redemption takes time, but it can and does happen. The concept of having the slate cleaned is priceless. And every believer knows we deal with a salvation that is freely given and unearned. I am not trying to discount the consequences attached to our actions, but there is something inherently fascinating about the Good News.

Errors happen, but they are not the end.

Sent via BlackBerry

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Ponytails.

Funny, funny stuff from Eugene Cho waxing on his mane...

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A missing A.

I have been blogging primarily on my BlackBerry of recent. Usually, I generally split time blogging 50-50 on my laptop and BB. Now, my laptop is crippled by the silliest problem.

I am missing a key on my laptop. Not the Q. Not an X. I am missing the alpha dog of vowels: A. It broke off.

Cue Joni Mitchell: Don't it always seem to go... that you don't know what you got 'til it's gone...

I never knew how valuable A really was till this incident. Now, I can't type love notes to my wife (that's my story and I'm sticking to it). My left pinky is numb from banging on the broken nub.

I tried gorilla glue. Without dwelling on specifics, let me just point out that this was not my best moment. I tried jamming the key into place, and reaffirmed the fact that brute strength is not a good substitute for delicate know-how.

All in all, it seems I need a new keyboard... and some basic research proved it was not as expensive as I would have thought.

Life is so full of stories like this. Job was a guy who had it all, and then lost everything. And then some.

The moral of the story is that we must value every second with the gifts we have.

In the mean time, I am looking for a list of words that denote anger and disappointment, but don't have the letter 'A' in them.

Stay blessed.

Sent via BlackBerry

Picture provided by Capannelle via Flickr Creative Commons License.

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Mind your manners

Some awesome words from Antoine at Mobile Ministry Magazine.

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Don't you DARE smile...

Really?

Apparently, four states will not be allowing newly minted teenage drivers an opportunity to express relief at passing driving test. No more smiling in driver license photos.

The culprit is facial recognition software. It seems that smiling, the most natural of human emotive processes, throws it off.

Now, if anything, this will make happier criminals. Wanna scam a casino? Smile. Trick the pesky computers.

I am in a grumpy mood. My daughter said my tummy is squishy, my kid brother called me old, my back hurts, some NC schools have decided that class rank promotes "unnatural" competition, and now, I may soon have to pose like a pre-fight Mike Tyson or a Detroit Lions fan at the local DMV.

What is this world coming too?

Off to read FaceBook status updates. Those always make me laugh.

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The stubbornness of Joseph

Test time...

When you think of Joseph, what springs to mind? Coat of Many Colors? The hateful brethren? Famine?

How about stubborn dude?

Joseph's story is one that highlights perseverance of spirit. You can touch upon any number of important character traits worth embodying in his life, but the stubbornness is something that may not be as evident to begin with.

We know about his dreams, about his betrayal, rise and second betrayal. What was it that made him tick? I think he was stubborn.

This guy was blessed with the gift of foreseeing the future. When he does display his gift, he barely misses getting killed and is sold off into slavery by his siblings.

Plenty of justification to be angry. What does Joseph do? He becomes the best slave in the household, eventually coming his master's caretaker. Now, at this point, we could probably imagine a Ben-hur-ish like ending with master adopting Joseph and everybody swaying to the cued music.

Except it went bad. Very bad. Joseph decided to be honorable and resisted the romantic overtures of his master's wife. When the scorned woman accused him of attempted rape, he got thrown in the slammer.

One thing I am certain of is that prison life, in those times, was not easy. I suspect concepts like prisoners rights and cruel punishments didn't get a lot of press in those days. So, I think most people would have given Joe a pass if he had decided to wallow in anger and self-pity. But he didn't.

He packed up all the lemons and made some award-winning juice. Soon, he was running the prison. And the rest of the story is well known; he eventually became governor of the entire land, and was used by God to save the country. And his brothers, who sold him away.

Joseph stubbornly waited on the promise. He kept getting stuff thrown in his face, but he excelled anyway. He was a rock head. He glorified God in spite of his circumstance.

In this life, and particularly this economy, we all have received (or are receiving) tough blows. I think we all feel the justification to cut corners and to avoid doing the right thing... albeit temporarily. We can all take refuge in the fact that it will all end up for His glory.

This we know.


Sent via BlackBerry

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Thank you!

Here is a heartfelt salute to all our servicemen who have served. Another salute to their families and friends.

God bless you all!

Sent via BlackBerry

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People I dislike: Karen Byrne

I really, really dislike Karen Byrne, and the reasons are almost too many to list. I will do my best. It is my duty.

- I know it is hard to believe, but Karen is the nicest person I know. She really is an angel. This bothers me. I have tried VERY hard to find a mean bone in her, and can't find one. Why? This annoys me.

- She takes delight in being a true witness. No hidden hanky-panky for her; she is sold out in her beliefs, and wears her faith without shame.

- When you ask Karen a question, she doesn't try to get overly philosophical; she doesn't force flowery language. She simply takes you back to the Bible. She forces and inspires me to do the same. Whatever.

- Even when we argue (often, and usually her fault) on Twitter and during life group, she gets biblical. Once, instead of telling me to shut up, she used a bible verse. Seriously? How do you counter that? I don't like people who are so clearly smarter than me.

- My wife likes her, making me a minority in my own home as well as the cyber-world. No explanation needed.

- When you ask her tough questions, you know what Byrnie does? You guessed right... she takes it to the scripture. She makes you think. What is your outlook on life, Byrnie? There is always someone who needs something. Open your eyes, see their need and meet it. In two sentences, she forces me to confront my own selfishness. I want to fight her.

What is your favorite verse, B? My favorite verse lately is Isaiah 43:1 (love the whole chapter). But now, this is what the Lord says-- he who created you, o Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel; "Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine." I think deep down we all have a desire to belong - to know that we fit in somewhere. This verse reminds me that I belong to the Father. And, there's something beautiful when someone you love calls you by name.

Why do you believe in God, Karen? There is evidence of God all around us, if we just look for it. Creation screams of the existence of a Creator. The way the universe is laid out cannot be by chance. I can't watch a child sleep or a baby cry or birds build a nest or a lion prowling for dinner without thinking that the beauty in those things must come from God. I also know I am different since having started a relationship with him through his Son, who died because I broke God's heart.


Seriously... this is what she throws at you, forcing you to contemplate stuff. A-L-L the T-I-M-E.

- She lives in Michigan. And doesn't complain about the weather, further making me analyze my own whining.

- She writes one of the best blogs I have ever had the privilege of reading.

I could go on and on, and use up bandwith explaining why she is on my dislike list. Suffice to say that I absolutely refuse to admit that she is blessing in our lives, a precious friend, and someone I have an immense amount of respect for.

No, I won't say any of that. I dislike her. A lot.

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Who Am I?

A thought-provoking post from someone I dislike a lot...

Not only does this blog post give numerous verses for self-evaluation and citizenship, it starts off with a gentle reminder that every believer must ensure that it is something we subscribe to within ourselves first.

If you don't subscribe to KB's blog, you should... more reasons for this on Monday...

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Love thy brother

Years ago, when the wife and I were still a-courtin' I decided to stop putting off the unthinkable and introduce her to my siblings.

Some background here: my brothers are insane. Not your run-of-the-mill crazy; I mean literally "gone." I had hoped that we could somehow get married and live without meeting them, but that, I was told, would be somewhat uncouth. Plus, I figured that we would be short three attendants at our future wedding.

So, I swallowed my pride, prayed and brought her home.

As we walked into the house, I was blindsided by a tackle from my right side. Two others phantoms jumped on us, and in and instant, there was a four-man free-for-all scrum on the floor of my parents house.

Babetta looked on in abject horror.

Afterwards, when my mother had dispersed the impromptu wrestling sessions with a trusty frying pan, I tried to explain to my future wife how wrestling was normal. She did not understand how we greeted each other with kidney shots. I explained that if I walked in and hugged my brothers, they would think I was dying.

She promised, right there and then, to never have kids with me.

Eight years and two (plus) kids later, it is clear that my charm won the day, but I look back at those days and laugh.

My brother got married last year. The rest of us tried very hard to dissuade his fiancée from marrying him (we did like the girl), but she married him anyway. True to form, we cracked on, pinched, jabbed and kicked each other through out the ceremony. It didn't matter that it was the first time we were all in the same room in months; there was a lot of bruising to catch up on.

Babetta wearily looked at my brother's bride, Narissa, and sighed. "Shameless."

In the dressing room, while changing back into street clothes, Narissa's brother-in-law walked in to say bye. What he said had a lasting impact on all of us.

"It is great to see brothers who loved each other the way you guys do. Absolutely great. Never lose that."

We were humbled.

Outwardly, we vocalized about wanting to know what gave him that idea so that we could promptly stop doing whatever it was, but we were humbled.

My brothers are always there... just a phone call away. Since they will never read this blog, I freely admit that they are a significant part of my life. Anyone who messes with my lil brothers messes with me. That goes for all of us. In our culture, you learn to cherish your brothers.

After he left the room, we paused for a bit. And then, we wrestled some more.

Thank God for brothers. They help save a lot on punching bags.

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At the core

I made a life changing discovery recently... one that I simply must share.

While rifling through some kitchen stuff, I came across a weird circular cutting tool. Fascinated, I resisted the urge to throw it like a frisbee and asked the missus what it was.

She was unimpressed. "It's an apple corer."

"Really? How do you use it?" I asked.

"To core apples. You hold it like this..." she monotoned as she showed me how to use the device.

People, I had found yet another reason for living. You're telling me that there is a device out there that can remove the core while slicing the good stuff into perfect sections? My life was now complete.

Unfortunately, we had a newly-bought bag of apples in the refrigerator. I snuck away to play with my new toy.

About twelve apples later, while suffering from apple poisoning brought on from inexplicable over-indulgence and nursing wrists sore from corer-exertion, I looked back on all that I had gained from the exercise with glee. I made a solemn vow to never eat an uncored apple ever again. I also toyed with the idea of sharing my discovery with the masses, and being considered a corer pioneer on Twitter.

I asked the wifey how we had lived without the life-saving device. She was nonplussed, and shockingly, did not share my elation.

"We have always had it. In fact we have more than one."

What?

At first, I painfully recalled each apple that I had consumed over the course of eight years. Uncored. I mourned the lost opportunities. But then, another angle began to show itself. How many talents and opportunities have been hidden to me? How many times have I missed an opportunity to serve (or ignored it) because I didn't think I had the tools to be a servant?

On the flip side, have I become stronger in some aspects because I was forced to be creative in the absence of a tool or gift that did not manifest till later in life?

All in all, I refuse to go through life any longer without coring knives, and I am grateful for the perpetual gifting idea for family and friends.

*** picture from Amazon.

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Prom Wars

My initial reaction to this story was dismay.

Apparently, a young man who planned to attend prom with his girlfriend at her school (they attended different schools) was told by his own school that he would face disciplinary action if he did indeed attend. The problem started when the boy went to get his principal's signature (which I assume is a pre-requisite of the girlfriend's school for visiting students).

The boy's school, which is described in the article as a "fundamental" school, frowns on rock music, and details its official misgivings in the school handbook.

Without being critical of the school or unsympathetic to the boy, my concern is that the body of Christ needs to be particularly careful of branding artistic concepts as ungodly or unsuitable. To be overly simplistic, what about Christian rock? Bad? I don't mean to imply that the prom is gonna invite Jars of Clay to perform, but still...

I think there is a fine line: does it glorify God or not?

I have seen christian schools that do have proms, and they seemed like decent affairs. They may have been considered more rigid than the average "secular" event, but were clearly enjoyed and looked forward to.

Legislating teen morality can be tough business. While I do believe that it is possible to raise kids with healthy social attitudes in a spiritual atmosphere, I will shy away from saying that prom should be a platform on which such battles should be fought.

Or shouldn't it?

Food for thought...

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Anniversary

I read somewhere that there are two two key decisions that influence a man: what God he serves and the person he marries.

It is quite interesting to find out how much the one decision can affect the other (both ways). Both have a real bearing on happiness and fulfillment.

Nine years ago, I was blessed to have married a Godly woman. Thank you, Lord, for giving me the opportunity to get Decision Two right.

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Much ado about e-confessions.

Interesting blurb about online confessions. Apparently, it is causing some division in that particular denomination.

The concept of online church is catching on, but some figure that formal confessions should not be performed via email, as it alters the significant portion of confession: the physical presence of a priest.

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Church family

Amidst all the gloom, this story warms the heart.

It details the story of a unique homeless couple were shown no-strings-attached love by their congregation, Grace Church, who helped them plan a wedding and honeymoon.

In a day where the term "nice church" tends to evoke opulence of physical structure, it is great to hear of stories like this.

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Would you?

This story tugged at my heart strings, and I just had to get the word out.

I had the privilege of talking with Matthew Thomas, who is in the fight of his life to do what he can to save that of his mother. Lisa Thomas is a lively, encompassing 48-yr-young lady that has the most beautiful southern twang you will ever hear. She has a great family and dutiful friends.

In most aspects, she is no very different from you or I. Well, except for the incredible fortitude and courage that comes from needing life-saving surgery.

Lisa Thomas needs a kidney.

She has been battling this unique condition since she was 8. Because of the unique nature of her blood type, she needs a special person to donate a kidney for her. Her friends and family jumped at the opportunity, but are not viable donors.

Here is an opportunity for us, as a worldwide community, to get the word out. Tweet about it. Talk about it on FaceBook and MySpace.

Most importantly, if you can, shoot out an email to welovelisat at yahoo.com. Tell them you are keeping Lisa in your prayers. Or, if you feel God is leading you, find out how you can get tested for compatibility.

Remember, there is Someone who gave so much more...

Sent via BlackBerry

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97% Trash

Progress!!!

According to Yahoo! Tech's Christopher Null, the percentage of all email communication that is spam has dropped. To 97%.

I always knew that my junk mail folders seemed perpetually full, but this was mind-boggling. Most electronic email traffic is useless, unwanted solicitations for money, porn and free pills that promise to extend life and specific body parts.

Junk mail provides the promise of free degrees, medical miracles, adult classifieds, free alcohol and even instant ordinations. In other words, the stuff should be trashed. Quickly.

The problem is that email filters are almost too good. A lot of folks know that regularly sifting through junk mail is necessary to save gems from getting tossed. A lot of times, an important email can be caught in the filters.

It can be likened to the information that passes through our senses on a daily basis. Do we filter EVERYTHING out, including potentially valuable morsels?

Praise God

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Someone's gotta go

In a sign of the times, Fox shows that a keen sense of financial self-sustenance is important, even during dire happenings like layoffs. Apparently, the programming gurus there have come up with the idea of a reality show based on the layoffs occurring in small businesses.

The idea is to have employees decide who gets the pink slip.

It made me think... in a church setting, who would be the first to go if there were budget cuts? Who is most expendable?

Sadly, in today's economy, this is not far-fetched at all.

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Changes.

I have decided that I am way to mellow and soft spoken as a coach. Time to really get crazy:



Sadly, this type of behavior is becoming (scratch that: has long since become) a part of youth soccer. Parents, coaches, even the players themselves in some cases get caught acting in ways that don't reflect sportsmanship.

Then we wonder why we have some self-indulgent adult athletes...

Youth referees are the gaskets of sports. You really don't hear or think much about them when things are going your way. It is the epitome of thankless jobs.

Next time you see a zebra at a sporting event, shake their hands. Trust me, they don't get that a lot.

Great video from the FA...

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Infectious.

I love The Sound of Music.

Now that I have the unstudly admission out of my system, I can move on. Don't judge me. We all have ugly secrets.

I remember the first time I sang a medley of the songs from that movie with my wife present. I can't remember if I did it before or after my Grease performance, but I distinctly remember being grateful that I had already married her prior to the performance.

Look... I don't know what it is about that flick that makes me overcome the knowledge of my horrendous singing that usually keeps folks safe from my voice. I can't help it. Edelweiss always brings tears to my eyes. And I don't even have to be singing it for that to happen.

Of course, the video above was an instant hit... it was posted by a CB friend. I have always been fascinated with flash mobs, but this one truly seemed to spread goodwill. Towards the end, you really can't tell who was who; everyone seemed to get caught up in performance, and I am guessing they left the folks present happier than they were before it started.

This, along with the earlier post about the poor lady dying alone, got me wondering about what we, the church, are doing to infect our communities. Are we conduits for joy and the positive. Do we light up night and help dispense faith and hope? It so easy to become the opposite... a symbol of condemnation or a bastion for the holier-than-thous'.

It takes a little bit more than simple lip service. I think it takes a change of consciousness. It takes a real effort to liken oneself to the best Model of all.

At the end of the day, the success of any ministry can be measured in any number of ways, but one that we must really be concerned with is the change in the lives of the people in our cities.
Praise God

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Greening BFC

On Sunday, our pastor was talking about visiting the site of the future new Branch Family Church building (the plot had just recently been graded). He laughingly mentioned seeing something that warmed his heart: someone had created an impromptu marker by etching "BFC" in a slab of concrete. The person(s) garnished the top with a small branch. Derek made fun of the fact that there was no grass or greenery on the branch whatsoever.

Enter Mr Genius Landscaper, the Defender of all that could be lush (moi). I drove the family there, and spruced up the monument, using plucked grass and foliage from a nearby tree to create the facade of green.

As the family looked on in shame and confusion, I persevered and worked on my piggybacked masterpiece. I flirted with the idea of etching my name in the concrete base, but in the end, I figured that further "borrowing" of this intellectual property would be too shameful.

I figured that with this selfless offering, our church family would name the gymnasium after me.

Now that I have destroyed any chance of running a viable landscaping buisness, I present the "BFC Land marker Reimagined with a touch of Tre."

I'll accept a small shrub being named after me. Or a fence post. Please?

I am reluctantly posting this disclaimer: my wife wants it to be clear that though she was present, she had nothing to do with the crazy idea, and wants The Branch family to know what she goes through on a daily basis.
Praise God.

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Never missed.

In this scary, sad story, we hear about the account of a reclusive widow who died and wasn't discovered for a year and a half.

There is so much that can be said about this. The 72-yr-old lady was a long-time resident, had lived alone since her husband died in 1985, and tragically, no one noticed her absence for the 18 months that preceded the discovery of her and her dog's remains. Her house was even auctioned off with the body inside.

The easy thing to do is to wonder aloud as to how her neighbors did not notice her absence. I mean, really? In this day and age?

And then it hits you. It is all about this day and age. Even worse, when I look in the mirror, how much better am I?

When God spoke about neighborly, I don't think He was very unclear. The whole love requirement was simple and all-encompassing. Yet, when I spent the time to examine myself in the light of the story above, I admittedly fall flat. Would I really go out of the way to be a true neighbor, or do I make up the excuse of not being "nosy" to help be justify avoiding interaction? Am I accessible to my fellow man?

What about the homeless guy down the street? My brother or sister in Life Group? The parent of a player I coach? My wife?

There are so many arguments out there... it's a different time, the internet, privacy issues.... you name it. Should they matter?

Honestly, when I put myself on the scale that compares the love for myself with my love for my neighbors, one side is woefully short.

I think that is something we all need to look at intimately, as individuals and/or church workers. We should strive to ensure no one slips through the cracks.

The report references folks who were trying to remember what the lady looked like.

Have you been neighborly today?
Praise God!

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Pastors doing the unthinkable

Every now and then, I hear of something that makes me take pause.

This is one of them...

Twitter Pal and fellow Alltopper Ron Edmondson, who pastors Grace Community Church in Clarcksville, TN, recently asked his staff to evaluate him.

No... he wasn't high (off earthly substances, at least). So, why would a pastor willingly remove the cloak of infallibility by subjecting himself to review by his own staff?

Why would he publish the results?

The humility shown here is golden. Your staff see the communication goes both ways. You have an opportunity to gauge your own performance. You can see show you adhere to the same ideals you hold them to... the pluses are endless.

Of course, the ego has to be turned off, which, is probably the biggest advantage of all.

Humble hats off to Pastor Edmondson!
Praise God!

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Under the sun...

I stumbled upon this post from CrackBerry acquaintance Tlynnsmith, and it really, really touched me. Talk about timely.

I think in this day, in these economic times, it is good to go back to the Source.

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Misplaced Expectations

The other day, I took my son to get his haircut for the first time.

Prior to leaving, my wife mentioned that he might be tired and cranky, as his haircut would conflict with his usual nap time.

"Honey, I don't play that," I sanctimoniously stated. " Sleepy or not, I am the law. He WILL behave."

She looked at me with true pity.

I gave myself a few minutes to allow my puffed-out chest to deflate, and my son and I departed for the barbershop.

My plan was simple. I did what every dad does when faced with a potential discipline problem. I offered a bribe.

"Hey X... If you behave, and sit in the chair like a big boy, Daddy'll get you a donut!"

His eyes lit up. "Donuts?" (His automatic use of the plural was admirable).

"Yep... donuts! Daddy loves you."

With the bribe in place, as expected, the event went very well. My son acted in exemplary fashion, and made me proud.

For all but the last two minutes, anyway.

Not one to hold grudge, I decided to get him his donut. After running some errands, I fired up my BlackBerry TeleNav software and GPS puck and searched for "donuts." I was pleased to find out that there was a heretofore undiscovered Krispy Kreme location not far from where we lived. Every other "real" donut place was a significant distance away.

You see, not any donut shop would do for me... I mean, my son. Top of the line only. No gas stations; no grocery stores. Only KK or DD would do.

We drove with glee. The location seemed weird... it was in an industrial area, but we were unperturbed. I smiled with relief when I saw the small sign and vehicles.

My son was wide-eyed in wondrous amazement. "Donut trucks," he whispered in awe.

However, something just didn't feel right. There weren't any people with actual confectionaries. No workers. No drive-thru. No cops. And, unless they were cultivating the flour they used in the production process on-site, the humongous warehouse was serious overkill.

The security guard threw me for a loop. Who was making these donuts? What was in them? Was Willy Wonka on the loose in Charlotte?

I walked up to the security guard and asked where I could purchase donuts. He looked confused.

"We don't sell donuts. Not to individuals."

My son and I were dejected. We had driven to a bulk distributor.

Half an hour later, we were eating donuts from a grocery store. And my son couldn't be happier.

Sometimes, simple love is all it takes.

Picture courtesy of CharlieCLC via Wikimedia Commons.

Sent via BlackBerryPraise God

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What a month!

This has been one of those testimony-laden months. Getting back in the saddle, and looking forward to writing.

The good news is that I am back!

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Arrested.

I read this touching account from the blog of John Maxwell, an influential author and speaker, who recently was arrested (yes... arrested).

Sorry... I found it refreshing: a public figure who, in my opinion, makes no excuses for an occurrence, and takes the responsibility for it. He scores high marks in the integrity sweepstakes in my book.

Thanks to fellow Alltopper Ron Edmonson for the post that revealed the story to me.

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People I dislike: Derek Turner

I dislike Derek Turner... for a few reasons:

- Derek is truly one of the most sincere people I know. You really want to see that your pastor is a bit insincere. As my pastor, Derek abjectly fails here.

- Derek has looked pain and horror in the eye and come out with a closer relationship with God. He continually makes me feel like I can deal with the petty things in my life with more joy. This makes me mad.

- Derek truly loves people. He reaches out regardless of how it makes him look. Again, he makes me shine the light on my own life. Not cool.

- Derek was a phenomenal soccer goalkeeper at ORU. Now I have nothing to boast about.

- Derek uses a BlackBerry, and references the Bible from it. See previous bullet.

- When asked about Diversity, Derek's answer is, "What Would Love Do?"

Whatever. I truly dislike this guy.

Derek Turner is Pastor at The Branch Family Church in Charlotte, NC.

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Nobodies

In christian social networking circles, name recognition means everything. The worlds of FaceBook and Twitter abound with ministry heavyweights. Getting involved is a sign of being connected.

Still, behind the scenes, underneath the celebrities, there is a network of quieter folks, no less inspiring and with compelling stories -- folks that blow you away with their sincerity and friendship.

These "nobodies" (a group which I humbly fall in to) are what make social networks what they are. I know that I can get with Danny with a quick tweet, or shoot the breeze with Pamela, or argue with Karen. I can TokBox with Amanda, Richard, Scott, Ms Michelle and the rest of the Rowdy 180 till the wee hours of the morning.

I know that Waalien is always available; JennFelt is just a call away; I can plan a lunch meeting with Jace, Justin and/or Antoine on the fly. I can talk poetry with Sarah, cyber-box with Paige and call on Ron for some back-up. Cool thing is that I can pray with any and all of these people at any given time.

I could go on and on. I could shut down Blogger if I took the time to detail how my social family affects me and my ministry. From 180 to CB to beyond, I am grateful for the friendship, and for being celebrities in my life.

As a tribute, I am starting a segment... starting with a couple people you may or may not have heard of, called "People I Dislike..."

Stay tuned...

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Street Cred

In ministry, you need street cred.

It's a simple concept, and everybody knows it's true. In youth ministry, the need is even more pronounced.

For instance, everybody knows that in youth ministry, you can "up" your rep with a few add-ons. You can also knock yourself down a few notches with misconceived ideas.

For example: a motorcycle gives you instant credibility. And specific motorcycles give different vibes. A senior pastor on a Harley is uber-cool; on the other hand, a youth pastor will want to get a two-wheeler that sacrifices comfort. Yep, you guessed right: the youth pastor who is serious about projecting street smarts will only ride a crotch rocket. Preferably in neon coloring.

Another instant-rep-giver that may be a bit more ubiquitous is the tattoo. Nothing proclaims "downness" like inked skin. And no, I am not talking about christian symbols like the cross, or ambiguous etches like thorns on the biceps. Dude, I am referring to confusing symbols that originate in the Far East. No youth pastor is complete without at least one. Trust me, youth ministry search committees will ask to see them. Going forward, I suggest going to interviews with tank tops and sleeveless mesh muscle shirts to portray seriousness.

No budding youth pastor is complete without body piercings. Abundance is key. In fact, the "maler" one is, the more exposed piercings are needed. Lips, eyes, elbows -- anywhere and everywhere. If you walk by a microscope and it it does not need to be recalibrated, you are simply not dedicated enough.

Yeah... it's true. Unconventional is in. It is trendy to be atypical. Shoe shines are not enough. Maturity can be a minus. Youth ministry is like gymnastics. 25 yrs of age makes you a senior citizen.

I am in trouble. I married wrong. The woman is perfect... but each time I brought up getting a bike, she ominously presented me with new life insurance policies. I finally gave up. I am not big on tattoos, and henna just doesn't give me the juice I need. The joke, however, is on y'all; I can get all the piercings I want.

Hmph.

Images courtesy of Wiki Commons.

Praise God

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BlackBerry-less

So, I have been cranky... the USB port on my 8320 was ruined, and thus, I couldn't charge or sync my phone.

I had a few options. I could get a refurb unit from Tmo for free, but that would mean getting a new PIN, and switching over the tons of apps to a device that wouldn't be new. I could upgrade to the 8900, but then, I'd have the same problem as above (plus, an expense I could not justify).

I even flirted with the idea of getting a new device and/or carrier, but in the end, I decided thatmy 8320 was too good to let go, and no current device was an upgrade by my standards.

So, I sent in the phone to BBRepairshop. Can't wait for the device to get back.

Stay tuned. I am.

Praise God

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Women and self-worth

Now that I have a daughter, I can authoritatively comment on women and self-esteem. I can authoritatively say I still know nothing: except to listen to my wife and do my darnedest to ensure she understands how she should be treated and how she should view herself.

This post is from dear friend Jen... I absolutely loved it.

Burn away!

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Soccer Keeper Uses iPod

As a soccer coach and former keeper, this bit of news from Reuters caught my eye... a keeper using an electronic device (in this case, an iPod) for on-the-field analysis that arguably helped him and his team win the coveted League Cup via penalty shoot-out.

Ben Foster, goal tender for powerhouse Manchester United, watched penalty kicks previously taken by opponent Tottenham Hotspur designated kickers. He watched the clips with United's goalkeeping coach as a tactical move prior to the shoot-out.

In youth soccer, I think one of the most under-utilized tools is game film. Having film, in my opinion, is priceless. Ever talked to a 12 yr-old about a mistake he/she made on the field ten minutes earlier? Chances are he/she won't remember. Have the same child watch herself on video... they practically troubleshoot themselves. Pointy ball coaches have been doing this forever; you wonder why we, as coaches of a game as fluid as soccer, do not routinely film games for future reference.

It is relatively easy to get parents to tape a game, too.

Hopefully, The FA and FIFA won't overeact and ban the use, though an argument could be made that allowing some electronic aids on the pitch opens the doors to abuse. Still, it goes to show that real football goalkeepers are the smartest folks around.
Praise God!

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That pesky concept known as faith...

Faith is:

* a very, very disconcerting topic. Lord, you're telling me to rest on You? Completely?

* the ultimate log/speck talking point... easy to troubleshoot in others, not so much in self

* is a very humbling concept.

* can be contagious. Sometimes, it takes one faithful person to effect change

* is extremely energy-efficient. A speck does wonders.

* does wonders for mental health.

* is phenomenal when paired with sister pesky concept "love."

Praise God!

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Injured good Samaritan ticketed for jaywalking

Seriously? Please give this guy a break... (and someone finally did).

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The Source

I had gone over to my parents house this weekend to look at a problem they were having with their wireless network. I had installed it a few weeks earlier, and Mom reported that all of a sudden, it had quit working.

I was able to isolate the initial problem fairly quickly, but for the life of me, I could not get it up and running. The cable modem was working fine, and after resetting, it was broadcasting "online" and the router seemed fine. I just could not continue the connection to the world wide web.

Stumped, I decided to take a break and start another project for my Mom: getting her Wii console fixed. My mom had shocked us all by purchasing the gaming system a few weeks back, but for the kids, it made Nana's home even more welcome.

While looking for the Wii serial number, I noticed that my parents were now on DirecTV. Impressive, I thought.

It wasn't till later that the answer to my initial problem jumped at me. I called my Mom.

"Mom... when did this problem start?"
"In December" she answered.
"Well, when did you cancel cable and go to DTV?" I queried.
There was a pause. "In December."

Voila! Problem solved! The folks had cut off cable. There was no internet source.

The teaching moments are analogies are plentiful for every facet of ministry, personal and church. Basically, it can boil down to asking, particularly in lean times: what is your Source? Is it constantly refreshed? Is there something blocking it?

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