Books

There's just something special about books. And I don't even care which books. Good books. Bad books. Thick books. Fiction or not. Books about people or the past or business management or dead athletes or corrupt politicians or extinct empires or farming or mountain climbing. There's something powerful that happens when I'm emmersed in the words and thoughts and paragraphs of other writers. Even the ones that aren't from writers. It's hard to explain, really.

There are times when I walk the aisles of a bookstore and almost become melancholy because there's not enough time to read them all. But at the same time I'm excited to discover new thoughts, study different perspectives or examine unique angles on old, familiar topics.

But there's one book that captures all of the emotions, desires, needs, cares, hopes and fears I can ever have. It's a collection of thoughts, perspectives, angles, words, sentences and paragraphs that is unmatched by any other book. It's the book that changes me every time I read it.

No other book gives me the hope and promise of life like this one. None of the characters and stories found on the shelves of a bookstore compare to those found in the pages of this book. And no book scares me as much. Because it's the book that shows me who I really am, and who I could become.

It's the book that equips me and challenges me and reminds me and defines me. And if you haven't read this book lately, I would challenge you to pick it up... again, or for the first time. Because it's written by the greatest author there could be. I'm pretty sure you know which one it is...

I'm not that old and you're not that fast...

As kids, my friends and I were never deliberately bad. Sure, we roamed the neighborhood. But we didn't want to cause permanent damage to people's homes or property. We were just kids with not much on our minds. Of course, that doesn't mean we didn't do our fair share of toilet papering, egging and forking. (If you don't know what that is, then good. You shouldn't.) But I never really thought much of it. Until I owned my first house.

Now, I have become one of those people I remember running from as a kid. But there's a difference between me and all those "old people" from my childhood. And the difference was clearly evident this evening.

I had just finished cutting the grass and was about to close the garage when I saw two kids walking by my neighbor's house. They didn't see me. And more importantly, they didn't see me see them draw on my neighbor's mailbox with a Sharpie. That kind of stuff drives me nuts! After all, what homeowner wants their mailbox desicrated? (*Side note: Sigmund Freud would have a strong theory as to why these kids drew this certain object.)

So I whistled. And they stopped dead in their tracks ... at first. But as I walked up to them and talked to them about how they were going to knock on my neighbor's door and explain what they did, they took off down the street.

Now, that is completely understandable. I remember doing that. And I remember getting away every time (except for the time I ran head first into a tree at night. But that's another story.) So I'm sure these kids thought they would just run around the corner and everything would be fine. One problem for them, though. I took off too. And I caught up to them.

The look on their face said it all. "How in the world did this 'old man' catch us."

"You know what?" I said to them. "I'm not that old and you're not that fast."

And right now, they're busy cleaning the mailbox under the supervision of my neighbor.

You need to watch the road.

It was quite a storm. Winds up to 80 mph. Downed trees and power outages everywhere. But in the middle of it, we were safe. Our entire family was over at Carissa's grandmother's house for dinner.

After the storm calmed down, it was time to go home. We had both vehicles (I had met them there after work), so on the way home, each of us took one of the boys. Carissa got Jackson. I got Parker.

You never know what you're going to get with Parker.

On the ride back we talked about how delicious the cake was. Pointed to the downed trees in the road. Shared stories about our day. And talked about how delicious the cake was (yeah, that was a popular topic). Then we saw it.

There was a truck completely upside down on the side of the highway. This wasn't one of those big semi trailers. It was more like a Uhaul type truck. And it was demolished. Nothing left but a charred frame and some broken glass. All that was at the scene by the time we arrived was one police cruiser.

As we passed, Parker asked, "Daddy, was someone driving that truck?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

Then, after about 3 miuntes of complete silence, he said something that I didn't expect. Like I said, you never know what to expect with Parker. He said, "Daddy, I think tonight we should pray for that driver."

Wow! So we did. Right then and there, out loud, we prayed for God to protect and heal the driver of the truck and to help him feel the love God has for him. Knowing that my little man was genuinely concerned about someone he will never even meet is one of those moments that I will cherish forever. But in true Parker form, the moment wasn't over.

After we said, "Amen," we sat in silence for another minute or so. And then he said, "Daddy, when you prayed, were your eyes closed?"

"No."

"Good. Because you need to watch the road."

Beauty in the Sky

I'm no professional photographer. But then again, with God providing the subjects, it doesn't take a professional to capture the beauty.

Socially Awkward

We've all had those moments. It's responding with "You too," when the ticket agent tells you to have a good flight or the pizza delivery girl tells you to enjoy your pizza. Well, it happened to me today (again).

I went to Quizno's to grab a sandwich for lunch. And despite the slight language barrier between me and the guy making the sandwich, I ordered without any problems. Mesquite chicken, whole wheat bread, no tomatoes, extra cheese.

Then I got to the checkout. New guy there. And this time, the accent was almost too much. As I told him I'd like chips and a drink with my sandwich, he asked, "Do you want a sucker?"

Confused, I asked him to please repeat his question.

"Do you want a sucker?"

Yep, I thought, he asked if I wanted a sucker. "No, thank you." A completely normal, appropriate response to that question, right? After all, I did not want a sucker. But the look on his face didn't match the situation. He was confused; a little too confused. Maybe it's just him, I thought.

Then, as I got to the door, I realized what happened. It wasn't just him. He hadn't asked me if I wanted a sucker. See, I was wearing this shirt...



In case you don't know, that's a Juventus soccer club jersey. The guy didn't ask me if I want a sucker. He asked if I watch soccer! No wonder, "No, thank you," brought about the confusion on his part.

So often, that's the problem between the Church and the world. People are asking us (the Church) questions that they really need answers to. But we misunderstand and answer what we think they need to hear. We don't take the time to find out what they are really saying.

My prayer is that as I go through each day, God opens my eyes (and ears) to the real needs of people; and that I don't go around answering "No, thank you" to people who are asking me to introduce them to Jesus just because I didn't take the time to really hear them.