How flexible are you?

For the most part, flexibility has never been my thing.  I don't like change; consistency is my friend.  I also like a schedule in order to plan and mentally prepare.  It's just how I'm wired.  In fact, I'm not even that physically flexible.

But rule #1 in mission work in Haiti is flexibility.  Our team was up close and personal with that rule today and living it gave us some great memories and even bigger blessings.

Let's start with the Sunday morning church service.  In America, at least in our church, we have an hour for Sunday School and an hour-plus for worship service.  Sunday morning worship service is definitely conducted on Haitian time.  We arrived at the church about 9am, and it was my understanding that Sunday School was already over.  The worship service was going on, but I don't don't think we'd missed much.

What was in store was four hours of worship to God on a small wooden pew with no cushion (I missed out on the nice plastic chairs that some of our team got to enjoy).  We sang (a lot), honored their Sunday School teachers and high achievers, listened to the message from our pastor, honored the high achievers from our discussion session teams during the last week, shared the Lord's Supper, witnessed a baby dedication, and helped serve lunch to the congregation.  Our church is pretty busy for it's size, but that's about a calendar month's worth of activities.

Then, we were able to present to the church funds that would help in their purchase of land to expand their ministry.  Having the opportunity to stand on that little plot of land on the side of a hill deep in the Southern part of Haiti and pray for their church, the leaders, and the future God has for them was a very humbling experience.  You truly do see God when you serve Him with a full, loving heart.  In His power, I can only imagine how God will use that land for His glory.

After lunch, we had the opportunity to visit the home of one of the guys who has become like a son and brother to the team.  His house was different than any house I'd ever seen, but it was also a home like I've rarely seen before.  The sense of family was immediately evident.  Love flowed throughout and was seen in the way they spoke to each other and how they immediately welcomed us in.  His mother beamed and smiled from ear to ear as her son's friends has come and visited their home.  He even climbed a 20-foot tall tree to cut down coconuts for us to sample.  There was a sign that in Creole read, "Jesus is the answer."  Without all the luxuries as Americans that we perceive as important, that simple yet powerful phrase encompasses the true foundation of a home.

At this point, we thought we just had a short marriage conference some of our team was putting on and then an early quiet evening.  Then, flexibility happened.  As we neared the church, the two back rear tires went flat.  As our team left the truck and walked the remaining way to church, the Haitian pastor, me, and another guy from our team stayed with the truck.  This immediately became a scene as a truck was stranded with two "blans" nearby.  Probably two dozen kids flocked in the road to stand witness.  As a couple of Haitian guys changed the tires, there were more than a few moments when I thought I was going to witness a truck crushing a Haitian man.  Using a giant rock under the axle to balance the truck didn't seem like the safest way to complete that project.  By the grace of God, they were able to change the tires and there were no injuries.

Little did we know, the most entertaining portion of the day was yet to come.  It sounded easy enough.  All we had to do was return some borrowed speakers and drum set that we used for the conference we helped put on.  Then, flexibility really happened.  All was going well as we loaded up the equipment, but we could see lightning flash in the distance.  We traveled on and eventually hit what I refer to as the highway in Cayes-Jacmel.  We had one of the Haitian pastor's friends following us on a motorcycle.  Along the way I saw the headlight on the motorcycle go out, and the bike stalled.  That seemed like a problem.

We traveled on and drove to a remote destination that seemed to be sparsely populated.  The church was large but clearly unfinished.  The pastor and his two Haitian friends walked along the side of the church nearly out of sight with only the full moon lighting the area.  The truck was left running with the headlights on, driver's door open, and four "blans" standing in the back.  We were quickly and quietly making escape plans.  I'm sure I wasn't the only one lifting up a few silent prayers.

After a few minutes, a guy rides up on a bike and parks near the front of the truck.  Uh oh, here we go.  We quickly recognize him as a kind gentlemen that we'd prayed with earlier in the day.  Eventually things were settled, and we unloaded the equipment into the church.  It was unlike anything I'd seen.  I'm sure in the daytime it was a beautiful structure, but at night in the light of the moon, it was super creepy.  However, we were able to unload it all with no issue, and we were once again on our way back to the compound.

Then, flexibility struck again.  We were going down the highway when the truck started to slow, and we eased onto the side of the road.  We picked up a guy that was walking down the road.  Great, a hitchhiker.  Turns out it was the guy who's bike had broken down.  The four blans started singing "Mock, yeah.  ing, yeah.  Bird, yeah...". Not sure if our new Haitian friend was a fan of Dumb & Dumber.  We made it about a half mile down the road when we began to slow again.  I looked to the side of the road and realized we had to pick up his bike.

We put the bike on the back of the truck and were off again.  I had to chuckle as four blans, a Haitian, his broke-down bike, and a generator were all hauled on the back of the truck.  When we got back to the compound, we had to get a picture to memorialize the moment.



It was a long but fulfilling day.  We seen people come to Christ, we'd seen a church and families challenged to follow God's ways, and we'd rode on the back of a tap-tap with a broken-down bike.  Every bit of it was filled with flexibility that can only come from the Lord.

Have you ever attended a Haitian wedding?

I just attended my first Haitian wedding.  In doing so, I broke about every rule I have on attending a wedding.

1) I didn't shave.
2) I wore shorts.
3) I had on tennis shoes.
4) I didn't have on a tie.
5) I hadn't had a shower in at least 24 hours.

That's a pretty exhaustive list.  Keep in mind that it's August Haiti in so a different set of rules apply.

When we arrived for the ceremony, we received a special surprise. My wife and I and several other couples from our team were asked to take part in the ceremony.  Gotta love surprises like that, but one of the motto's of a mission trip to Haiti is "Be flexible."  We walked down the aisle prior to the ceremony as examples of what love and a marriage look like.  That's a little humbling to be used as examples of marriage.  But in the Haitian culture, their views on marriage differ from ours.

So back to the story, we were essentially the groomsmen and bridesmaids.  We got to sit up front right behind the groom and bride.  It was a very interesting contrast.  The local Haitians were dressed in their Sunday best while we "fortunate" Americans looked like we were about to go play a round of putt-putt.  A contrast indeed, but a huge honor to us also.

It had about all you'd expect from a Haitian wedding (if you had any predilections).  Stopping the service because of feedback in the mics from all the cellphones plugged in near the soundboard?  Check.  Service being stopped because the picture slideshow had to be stopped because it was creating a distraction?  Check.  Service being stopped because the kids playing right outside the church were too noisy?  Check.  As you may be able to tell, there was no organized timing for the service (keep flexibility in mind).  In Haiti, they tell time with an -ish on the end.  For example, we are going to leave at 8 (that's heard as 8-ish).

All jokes aside, it was a wonderful ceremony in which two people in love joined their lives before God.  It helped me appreciate my own marriage more and enriched my experience with the Haitian people.

And why are you going to Haiti?

Turns out that's a pretty common response when you tell people that's the Caribbean Island you chose as the destination for your time off work.  Going on a mission trip?  Going with your church?  Also common questions to which the answer is always, "Yep."

So why am I going to the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere?  Let's back up just a little.

As I worked through the "Follow Me" study from David Platt earlier this year, I began to realize something.  I'm just a fan standing on the sidelines.  I know all about the game.  I know the rules, the players, and the history of the game. I devote my time and money to the game.  I even make the game a family event.  But I fall short of making a real difference in what happens on the field.

Jesus's first and last commands on Earth were to "Follow Me." Very simple in nature, but we allow excuses to stand in the way.  Using my sports analogy, that is what I was doing.  I was using every possible excuse to not cross the line and get on the field.

Digging into God's Word in that study gave me a greater understanding on what exactly it means to follow Jesus.  It goes beyond Church attendance or memorizing Bible verses.  It's a commitment to serve Him in every area of your life.  We can't pick and choose what we will give up and what we'll hold back.  Jesus requires a full trust of your life to His service.

So this is the first step in fully living out that commitment.  It feels like learning to swim in the deep end of the pool, but our faith in Him will grow when we see His strength in our weakness.

I pray that every step is made in His direction, and that those I meet may know Him better because of my journey.

Who is your hero?

My heroes growing up were the type to have highlights on ESPN.  I loved Michael Jordan, Don Mattingly, Tim Brown, and anyone wearing Carolina Blue for the Heels.  My six-year-old now dreams of being a Jedi Master.  His heroes have gone from Woody, Buzz, and Lightning to Luke, Obi Wan, and Anikan.  Sometimes our heroes evolve over time.

Over the last couple of days, I've thought through something that I've really know for a while now.  My real hero didn't dribble, hit, or catch a ball for a living, carry a light saber, or have his daily highlights shown on SportsCenter.  My hero wore khakis, drove a station wagon for the large portion of my childhood, and slept in the room next to mine.  He is my dad.

After 42 years of service to the same company, he worked his last day for that company today.  He was given a party, a lunch, several dozen golf balls, and a fancy new driver.  However based on what I heard from those he worked with, he gave a lot more than that.  He gave many nights, most weekends, and everything he had.  Of course, I didn't need someone else to tell me those things to know that.  He's the hardest worker that I know.  That work ethic that he displayed inspired me and I'm sure countless others to always strive to achieve the best.  He never spent money that he didn't have and always sacrificed for others.  There are traits that I've always admired.

He's the first person I call when I'm unsure on something or need advice.  He's the realistic voice that keeps me from making a choice that I know I really shouldn't make.  I'm sure he's worried about the future ahead.  It's all he's known for 42 years.  I hope he enjoys the time that he has remaining; he's earned it.  He's basically worked his entire life so it's time for him to enjoy the fruits of his hard work and sacrifice.  That includes more baseball games, more tee times, and more time with the grandkids.

I love him, and I could not be more proud to call him my father.  And hero...

Where have I been?

When I started this whole blog thing, I thought it would be fun to share my random thoughts from time to time. Then like everything else I start, it got pushed to the side. I have been just a little busy in 2011 in the near 5 months since I had a posting.

I've turned 34, trained for a half marathon, ran my first half marathon, had my second child (ok, my wife handled that one), and sold my house. That's in addition to all of the other stuff that I was already doing to keep myself busy.

That's where I've been, but let's talk about where I am. As I write, I'm in a vehicle with my wife, in-laws, and my 2 boys. Everyone expect me (and the driver) is asleep so I have a few quiet minutes with my thoughts. No babies to feed or change, reports to catch up on, or meetings to run to.

We're headed west for my niece's high school graduation. This trip is as grueling as the half marathon I ran a month ago. It's a test of endurance and patience. The scenery is beautiful, but some stretches are oh so boring. Plus, it's made more difficult with a 4-year old in the back asking, "Are we there yet?"

We started our trip with an unknown noise coming from somewhere that one in our traveling party was sure was the wheel bearings. Not sure if she really knows what wheel bearings do ir look like. We decided to not let that detail the journey and traveled on. Luckily that noise has gone away.

After all this, I still wouldn't trade this trip for anything. I've learned to enjoy the ride of life no matter what unknown noises pop up from time to time.

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Why am i up at 6am on my vacation?

No, Glenn Beck, Rush Limbaugh, or Sarah Palin are not coming to the Graham Library for a book signing.

I'm going deer hunting. I'm currently camo'ed up and about to go out into the 22 degree weather to sit in the middle of the woods to find the ever elusive white-tailed deer.

I didn't grow up a hunter so this has been a fun learning experience for me. Lucky for me, I have patient in-laws that have joined me on the journey these last eight years. To some, it may seem mean or barbaric or just a plain waste of time. In fact, I accidently made a coworker cry one time just bringing up the subject. However, there is much more to the actual experience than the casual observer would expect. It's refreshing to be in the woods with absolutely no sounds. No airplanes, no cars, no radio or TV. It's amazing to hear the silence in nature just before the sun presents itself for the day or just before it disappears to reveal the darkness of night.

It's called a sport, but it's much more than that. Like anything, it can be abused or given a bad name. But it reaches back to the early days when man had to hunt their food. They may have not had high-powered rifles or Scent Lock clothing, but it's the same in nature. It's taking part in God's design that man care for the other beasts of His creation. Plus, it's just fun to go shoot guns with the boys.

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How cool was that?

The answer is very cool. This is a response to the last posting about President and Mrs. Bush's visit to Charlotte. The good news is that in day 2 of my line-standing journey, my experience was only a little over 2 hours long.

The whole event was very interesting. All the local news guys were there so you had that big event feel. As I was standing in line, I looked up and saw Greta van Susteren from Fox News. I found out later that she'd done an interview with Billy Graham and Pres. Bush.

We were still in line outside with no view of the W (if I may call him that with all due respect). However, things were surreal with all the secret service agents around. It was clear they were not going to mess around.

After about 2 hours in line, we made it up to the metal detectors. No pictures because cameras were not allowed inside and cell phones had to be turned off. Once you made it inside, it was a little like Disney World with the zig-zag rope lines. I eventually made it near the end of the line. I was about 20 people back when I just casually stuck my hand in my pocket. It was more out of nervous energy than anything. At that point, the secret service agent beside me kindly asked, "Sir, can you please take your hand out of your pocket?" "Yes sir" was my quick and alarmed response. As I waited for my heart to start beating again I finally approached the table. Mrs. Bush was first greeting everyone with a "Thank you for coming and have a Merry Christmas." She was as graceful as you'd imagine based on what I've seen on TV.

At the end of the table sat the man who less than two years ago was the most powerful man on earth. He shook everone's hand and offered a pleasant greeting. He looked up from signing a book, stuck out his hand, and said, "Thanks for coming. Have a Merry Christmas." It wasn't my wedding or the birth of my child, but that was one of the coolest things i've experienced. That may sound dorky, but for me, it's true.

He's just a man. But he's a man that I respect for his morals and integrity. Think of him what you may, it can't diminishy experience.

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Have you ever met a US President?

In the next couple of hours, we'll find out if I've joined the list. On Saturday, I stood in line for 5 hours for the chance to buy a wristband. That wristband has gotten me the chance to stand in line AGAIN at the Billy Graham Library.


So let's back up a little. Last Thursday I found out that George W Bush was coming to the library to sign his new book. My first thought was, I'm there. So on Saturday, I got in line at 7:45am for a book sale that didn't start until 9:30am. I stood in that slow-moving line until almost 1pm. Doesn't sound bad until you consider that it was in the 30's and sleeting/ snowing a good portion of the time. By the way, we were standing in line outside.

It's been an interesting experience so far. There are more rumors than a gossip website. We all get to see him. Only a certain color wristband is guaranteed to see him. Suddenly every has their sources or knows someone who works for BG ministries. So we'll see how this goes. Lord willing I'll have the chance to talk with the 43rd President of the US. I'll keep you posted...

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What are you thankful for?

Is it a day off work? A plate full of food and leftovers for later? Maybe football on TV all day on a Thursday? To be honest, I'm thankful for all those things. But. I'm also thankful for so much more.

First of all, I feel blessed to just be alive. I have a wonderful wife, a cool son, a terrific family, and a great job with good people to work with. This week I was witness to the sting of death. I had a fried whose father passed away. He was probably around 70+ years of age so I believe he lived a full life. He'd struggled with illnesses including cancer so he's in a better place where he's hurting no more. Still, his family will deal with loss as they go through this holiday season.

The other brush with death was far more sudden. We were driving home (actually from this visitation for the man I mentioned earlier) and saw fire trucks, an ambulance, and police cars lining the road. As we rolled past, we saw a body in the road covered in a sheet. We later found out the man was killed trying to cross a busy highway in the rain. He was struck twice by a car while trying to get to a gas station because his car had broken down. I don't know who he was. I'm sure he was someone's son, possibly a father, brother, or friend.

I tell of this not to depress or cause concern but rather to encourage. Oh really? Live every day with a purpose. Be thankful for the blessings you are given. Even on the darkest day, there is a light that will shine.

I'm also thankful because I don't fear death, the darkest of dark times. When Christ died on the cross, he conquered death for you and me. That's what I'm most thankful for, real hope. As I type this and ride in the rain, I look over and see a rainbow. That was first used by God as a sign of hope after a worried time. Just know that God is in control. Look to Him and be thankful.

And after you've had a chance to thank Him for your blessings, sneak back in the kitchen and see if there is any pecan pie left...

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Does your kid like Fox News?

Mine does. Or at least he says he does. The somewhat odd thing is that my son is only 3 years old. I know he would much rather watch The Wonder Pets or one of the Toy Story Movies, but ocassionally he will show some excitement that Fox News is on. A couple things happened this past weekend that showed the indoctrination of my child is taking hold. I just wish we could have the same affect on the 8 or 9 people that watch "The Ed Show" on MSNBC each night.

Before this weekend, he's always shown an interest in his daddy's favorite news channel. When he was about 2, he walked into the room while I was watching Fox News. Karl Rove was being interviewed. He asked, "Daddy, who's that on TV." To which I replied, "Karl Rove. He's the smartest man in the world." So for the next couple of months when someone would ask him, "Who's the smartest man in the World?" He'd quickly reply, "Karl Rove." When he'd hear his name being said on TV, his eyes would light up, and he'd say, "He said Karl Rove! He said Karl Rove!" I'm not sure if it's Karl's tussle with Kristine O'Donnell or just that he's moved on, but he doesn't mention Karl too much anymore.

Another funny thing happened when we were reading his pop-up book on America. The US Capital Building is on one of pages that pops out. The first time he saw that he said, "Look. It's Fox News!" He recognized the Capital Building which is in the background during Bret Baier's show. That's usually on while we are eating dinner at night. He was able to make the connection without me having to say anything. In the same book, one of the pages is the Golden Gate Bridge. We were reading it one night, and I asked him if he knew who lived under that bridge. I told him the evil witch Nancy lived under that bridge (referring to the elected official from that particular district, who could that be?). The next morning he was reading the same book with his mother. They got to that page and he explained to her that the evil witch Nacy lived under that bridge. My wife could just shake her head. I on the other hand was beaming with pride.

Back to this past weekend. The first example happened when we went to visit my wife's aunt on Friday. We walked in and Fox News happened to be on. He said, "That's Fox News. I love Fox News." Her aunt asked him what he watched on Fox News. He replied, "Glenn Beck." She was a little taken aback that a 3-year-old knew that he watched Glenn Beck on Fox News. I once again beamed with pride.

The next example occurred this past Sunday when one of our friends were watching Taylor because my wife had a baby shower and I had a church meeting. Imagine that, everything happening at the same time. Anyway, she asked him what he wanted to do. He said he wanted to go play in her son's room upstairs. That's normal for a 3-year-old so she said great that he could go play with his Lego's. He then said that after that he wanted to come back downstairs and watch Fox News. A little surprised, she jokingly asked him, "Who do you watch on Fox News?" To which he once again replied, "Glenn Beck." I think she about fell out. She was so surprised she had to call her husband in to hear him repeat that. He then had to record that to send to one of his conservative friends in Texas. Once again, I beamed with pride.

This may be no big deal, and it's just a kid repeating what he's heard. But I think it's pretty cool that he chooses this to repeat. Fair and Balanced.

Can you show me the way to Sante Fe?

Alright, alright.  I know that is not how that phrase goes.  But I'm in Santa Fe, so work with me.  This is a very cool little town.  And if you didn't know, it's actually the state capital of New Mexico.  Usually when you travel to a place for business, you spend more time in the airport, a cab or rental car, or a conference room than you do getting to enjoy what the city has to offer.  Luckily for me, I've had a little time to enjoy the local culture.  The city is over 400 years old so it has some history to it.

My co-workers have traveled out here many times before so they know some of the historical places to visit and the must-try restaurants.  This is the market that we got to visit the other day.  Local Native American artists set up to sell their hand-crafted jewelry, pottery, and other crafts.  One of my co-workers compared Santa Fe to Charleston, South Carolina.  That seems like an odd comparison, but I think it's very fitting.  As I mentioned earlier, you can feel the history when you walk around.  With the market, fabulous church buildings, and other historical sites, there's a sense of a time gone by that you get in Charleston.

So you may be wondering what I'm doing in Santa Fe.  We are traveling out here to meet with our scientists in our Los Alamos office.  Yeah, scientists, how cool is that?

If you don't know about Los Alamos, it's a pretty interesting place.  It's a city on a plateau almost in the middle of nowhere in New Mexico.  It's about 45 minutes outside of Santa Fe.  It's also the home to the United States work on developing the atomic and nuclear bomb.  In fact, there is still a nuclear facility where testing and research is still conducted.  We drove by it.  It basically looks like a normal production plant.  No large towers or huge billowing smoke, but very cool none the less.

One cool thing we got to do was tour the Bradbury Science Musuem (named for a former director of the testing facility).  It was interesting to read the history around the development of this weaponry and how it was used and implemented.  This is a picture of a replica of the bomb that was dropped on Hiroshima during WWII.  They also had a replica of the bomb dropped on Nagasaki; it was a little smaller and less impressive.  This is not to celebrate the lives that were lost in the dropping of those bombs or in the ware in general.  However, it is interesting to learn about the history behind that and how that helped us defeat the empire of Japan which had attacked us at Pearl Harbor.

So that was my visit to Santa Fe, which technically isn't over because I fly home today.  The best I can remember, I've now visited 21 states.  Maybe not that impressive, but I'm almost half-way there.

How tough is the color pink?

I don't wear pink. It's just now my color. I rarely even wear red (that's mainly did to my distain for North Carolina State University). I just stay away from that section of the color spectrum.

After all, I'm an Oakland Raiders fan. "Real men wear black." I'm a Tarheel, I can't be seen in any shade of red or pink. And let's not even get into the Red Sox. Argh, I hate that color. And like I said, that hatred has seemed to spread to its cousin pink. Guys just can't look tough in pink. Ever see any biker gangs in pink? What about ninjas in kungfu movies. Never in pink. I even got paranoid when my three-year-olds favorite color was pink for a while. Luckily, that too did pass.

But this past weekend, I was involved with something that showed me the real strength that color represents.

I've been doing some running lately to counteract the fact that my metabolism is slowing and my penchant for sweets is ever increasing. I wanted to run in some sort of organized event, somewhere I got to wear a number like I was an Olympian. My wife suggested (there's that phrase again) that I run in the Susan G Komen race. My mom is a breast cancer survivor so that has a special place in my heart. I signed up to do the recreational run because the competitive run sounded a little too intimidating.

So I show up on Saturday morning with my running shoes and my headphones ready to dash. Only problem was there were about 20 thousand people in my way clogging the streets. Mothers, grandmothers, teenagers, guys pushing strollers. This was a mass of humanity. At that point I realized this was less about me running a little over 3 miles this morning and more about the courageous journey these women were on. I remember the fight that my mom successfully won against her cancer. I remember how tough she was and the fact that she never complained. She fought through the pain and the chemo and the losing of her hair with grace and courage that I admire deeply. I also think of a friend who lost her battle earlier this year with the same disease. She trusted God through the entire journey that he had a plan for her. She knew her fight was bigger than her and that God would take care of her husband and two young sons.

As I walked, I read the notes of celebration or honor for loved ones that had experienced this disease. While watching football yesterday, I asked my wife why the NFL had chosen this disease as a focus. The players and coaches were wearing pink armbands or towels and pink-trimmed hats in tribute. Then, I thought back to Saturday and the fact that we all have mothers or grandmothers, sisters or aunts, or someone who'd been affected.

So on Saturday, I saw how tough pink is. It represents strength, couarge, and hope.

To end on a lighter note, here are some of the top slogans I saw on t-shirts or posters. Normally, these things said in public would be offensive or given a weird glance. But in this case, they were celebrated:

Running for Ra Ra's Ta Ta's

Helping save the A's, B's, C's, and DD's

We're breast friends

GRITS for ..

OK, you get the point.

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Does God care about the details?

I'm sure there are cynics out there that say that God isn't real. Some others may say he might be real, but he doesn't care about me. "Do you know what's happened to me in my life?" or "Why does God feel like He's got to pick on me? What did I do to Him?" I'll admit up front that I feel like I've had a blessed life. I was raised by parents who loved me and are still married. I went to the college I always dreamed of attending. I married the love of my life, and we have a healthy (although "busy-body" little) son who I wouldn't trade for the world. I love my job and the people I work with (that's the truth, really). So a cynic may not appreciate my point of view on this. We still struggle with money, figuring out how to discipline a busy-body little 3-year-old, and don't seem to have enough time for the ones we love among other things. But as a Christian, I would like to think that I would still have this world-view even if the struggles were tougher.

Our lesson this month in Sunday School was on apologetics, defending our Christian faith. It seems that Christian values are under constant attack so you have to be strongly rooted in the things that you believe. The last lesson was on the fact that God is in control. He's a personal God who loves and cares for each of His children even though they may spite him to His face. I believe he sent His Son to die a horrible death so that I can be eternally forgiven for my sins. He's not a God that created the universe and now sits back to watch us fight it all out. He tries to lead each of us to His love that I feel we all need and yearn for in some way. So yes, I do think that God cares about the details.

This was made even clearer by some events that took place this week. If I may tell the story... I usually work on-site at one of our clients on Wednesday. Well this week, I went up on Tuesday. It just so happened that I needed to get my network access renewed at the client office (this is something that I have to do only once every 3 months, so it's pretty infrequent). I was there early so there was only one lady in the entire department where I sit. While I was walking over to ask her for help, another guy walked by and spoke to her. She sounded congested so he said he was sorry to hear she was still struggling with allergies. Her eyes were red, but she said that it wasn't allergies but that her husband wasn't doing well. I've known her for a couple of months, and we usually speak for a few minutes when I'm on-site. We've not gotten past casual conversation. But she began to tell me of her husband's struggle with a cancer relapse. I'm not very good in these situations in knowing what to say. I talked about the only thing that came to mind, that God had a plan. He wouldn't take us through anything that He didn't think we could handle through faith in Him. We go through things in life and God will lead us a little deeper into the water to strengthen our faith in him. As she sat with tears rolling down her face, I could only think that God had lead us to that moment. He was using me at that moment to talk to somone who was having trouble finding peace in a turbulent time. And it wasn't the specific words that I was saying that would make her or her husband's pain go way. It was the reassurance that God is in control. Sometimes it helps to hear someone else say it.

That has stuck with me all week. How many times do we miss the opportunity to help someone? It may be just a caring word or a kind inquiry when you know someone is struggling. God calls us to be encouragers of each other and to not beat each other down to make ourselves feel better. I got an email from her this morning that said he husband is during better after visiting the doctor. He's worrying less and returning to his normal self. Was it our conversation that caused that? No. But I think that God did teach us both something in that conversation. Sometimes all we can do is pray and rely on Him to provide something or someone that will give us strength. Because through our weakness we will see His strength.

Can you forgive me?

As in any relationship, mistakes can be made.  Things are said and actions are taken that are later regretted.  Once words leave your mouth, they cannot be returned.  Many times those unfortunate events will be caught on video or in pictures and posted for the world to see.  Forgiveness can be given, but often times, things are not forgotten.

I made one of those mistakes. We should support the ones we love no matter how hard times are.  We shouldn't give up on someone just because we feel we've been wronged.  I gave up on someone I have loved longer than I've known my wife.  Even though the bond is not strong and the commitment not as deep as my marriage vows, this love has existed since my childhood.  Yes last night, I quit on the New York Yankees.  It was a big game against the rival Red Sox, and I quit.  Facing a home sweep and the possible collapse of our season, I gave up.  And I'm sorry.  Can you forgive me?  We've had a good relationship.  It started out rough, but they've been very good to me over the years.  And in return, I've been very loyal.  I rooted for Hideki Irabu and stood by Jason Giambi.  Relationships can hit a rough spot.

In this game, Phil Hughes had pitched very well.  Alex Rodriguez delivered in the clutch with 2-run homer in the 7th inning that gave us the lead.  We made it through the 8th and had Mo Rivera coming back in the 9th.  He's been more than reliable for over a decade and is a major reason that I've seen 5 World Series championships won by my team, but Mo had a bad night.  After giving up the lead in the top of the 9th, I held out hope that we could win it in the bottom of the inning.  Papelbum was coming in, but he was far from perfect this season.  Thanks to Cano who's been a league MVP caliber player this year, the Yanks tied up the score.  But with the bases loaded and only 1 out, they could not take the lead.

I was done.  It was 11:30, and I had to go to work the next day.  I'd given them 9 strong faithful innings, but I couldn't stay up any longer.  Once again, I'm sorry.  I woke up the next morning to find out they won the game with a walk-off walk in the 10th.  Just one more inning was all it would have taken for me to see the Yanks defeat the Sox.  I gave in too soon.  I'm always the optimist, but in this case, I was weak.

I promise that as long as the season continues, I will be there watching.  I won't give up.  My sleep will be sacrificed to offer up the support that may be needed to pull another late-inning victory out.  Let's just hope that the games continue until late in the month of October.

So why all the questions?

The reason that I phrase the title for each posting as a question is basically an extension of the blog name itself.  As I mentioned earlier, the name Shed Talk was a term that I created to describe the conversations old men had sitting outside the shed at my grandfather's house while they sat under the shade trees.

As a young kid, I didn't pay attention and take part in all of the conversations, but I have an idea on what they talked about.  I'm sure they covered sports, a little politics, and some local gossip.  The one thing I do remember was that when someone would drive up to visit or if someone was looking to break the silence that had lingered underneath the shade trees there would be a question.  The answer to the question would foster a discussion on the topic at hand.

For example when someone would show up to chat, you'd hear a "How ya'll doing?"  That would start a conversation on what had been going on.  To beak the silence you may hear a "Watermelons gonna be any count this year?" (translation: Will the watermelons that you are growing be good quality this year?).  Most of the men that would stop by had land they farmed or where they at least tended a garden.  So the topic of struggles with that was a frequent one.

The one thing that got me was even if it was a statement, it could still be turned into a question.  Here are some examples:

Braves can't win a game, can they?

We ain't had no rain, have we?

Tomatoes just ain't makin' nothing this year, are they?

It was usually hard to argue with any of the facts in the statement.  It just required a "yep" or "nope" that would lead to some sort of discussion.  As I mentioned before, my Pawpaw was not a big talker.  So many times the only response you would get from him was a single word response.  Then, a return to silence.

So when you see a question in the title, know that I'm just breaking the silence.  No offense taken if you're like my Pawpaw and don't give much of a reponse.

So what is Shed Talk?

Let's start from the beginning.  When I decided to do this blog (or was convinced to do so by my wife), I wanted to come up with an interesting name.  I don't know why.  I don't know much about blogs.  I don't read any on a regular basis.  Something just told me I needed a name.  That served as a problem because that kind of creativity is not my forte.  When we sign birthday cards at work, I just sign "Hope you had a great birthday" because I would spend too much time coming up with something creative.  I always have what I think are funny ideas, but I always talk myself out of them.  I think that they are too corny and I'll look like a dork or it's a joke that the person may not get.  So I choose thoughtful and sincere, but safe, conservative, and to the point.

So I couldn't think of anything that I liked.  But it just came to me during one of the few quiet moments I have during the day, while I was shaving.  It's the first thing I do when I get up in the morning, and it happens before I have to be a husband, a dad, or a hard-working employee.  No fighting traffic, no ringing phones or emergency emails, and no juice cups to fill or trips to the backyard for bathroom time (the dog, not the child).  But I digress.

Something made me think of my grandfather.  I was lucky enough to grow up across the street from my grandparents.  My grandmother passed away when I was in the 7th grade, and I was fortunate to have my grandfather until several years ago when he passed away from the effects of diabetes and several other health issues.  In his earlier years he was a carpenter, but by the time I got older he was "retired" and spent his days farming the land around his house.  I always admired his hard-working spirit.  He had a gruff exterior, but on the inside, I believe lied a man that deeply cared for others, especially his family.

He would spend sunny days sitting outside this shed, or if it was raining, would move inside under its room .  It wasn't much to speak of, just a tin shed that housed a couple of tractors, a lawnmower, and his tools.  That speaks to the time and place I grew up in the fact that it never was locked but nothing ever seemed to get stolen.  That could be from the fact that folks knew pawpaw had plenty of guns and a little bit of a temper.  Some other things that were always under the shed were chairs, and that is the main inspiration in the name of the blog.

Pawpaw's shed seemed to be a destination of sorts for men in the community.  It served as a gathering place for people to stop by and talk.  I've now termed those discussions shed talk.  Pawpaw would eat supper at night with us after my grandmother passed.  We'd spend many a night waiting to eat supper because someone was next door at Pawpaw's, and we didn't want to start without him.  It seemed like there was always someone over there.  Which is very interesting because Pawpaw was not a big talker.  And that's something now that I regret.  I regret not asking more questions and having him tell me more stories.  I do remember stories about him serving overseas in WWII.  He'd talk about riding the trains for days to get back home after being on one of the Army bases.

That was a large inspriration for me to start this blog.  This is a way for me to tell my stories.  Like my Pawpaw, I'm not a big talker.  But this gives me an avenue to express my thoughts and opinions.  Like visitors to the shed, there could be different people dropping by from time to time reading this (or there could be no one at all).  But one thing this shed talk won't do is make you late for supper.

The tractors, lawnmower, and tools are all gone, but the shed still stands to this day.  I think that speaks to the solid way in which things were built in that day, no shortcuts.  So this blog is to honor my Pawpaw and the men that sat in and around that shed.  Come on by anytime, there's always an empty chair for you.

What happened to the creator?

It took a couple of weeks, but I'm finally getting around to my first political rant. The president gave a speech over the weekend. It seemed to be his normal fare where he was long on rhetoric and short on details. There was one portion of his speech that made a few headlines and caught my attention. Of course, this has not been picked up by most of the media who probably don't consider it a big deal.

The president was quoting the Declaration of Independence and left out a significant phrase. "...We hold thee truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal. Endowed with certain inalienable rights; life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." Notice what was missing? That's right, the Creator.

To me that's significant. First of all as a Christian, I find it apalling that he would leave that out. I think he went to church for the first time in office a few days later. Hopefully, he was able to brush up on the whole God/Creator idea.

In another way, I think it's part of a larger movement to rewrite our country's founding and history to remove any semblence of God from the public square. I believe it's the desire of some in the ruling class to make the people dependent on government and not God. There are too many people, especially in the younger generation that are looking for a hand out. Why should I do it when someone will do it for me?

On the Statue of Liberty, there is a plaque on which "The New Colossus" by Emma Lazarus is engraved. "Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free..." This doesn't mean send them over and we'll care for them. This means that we'll take them in and together we can build something strong that will be a lamp unto other nations who long for hope.

We need to once again come together as a nation for the future of our country. There will be things that we disagree on, major things in some cases. I know the founders didn't agree on everything. But they worked together for the good of all to establish some thing God has blessed like no other in history. It is now time that we restore that hope and rely on God to bring us together and strength us again.

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Have you ever eaten goose jerky?

Like most jerky, it was a bit chewy. But it was seasoned something special and was very tasty. What about cajun gator bites? Or pheasant and cheese pie? That along with carved wild buffalo and some other tasty treats was my dinner. Now if you know me you'd be suprised I would eat wild game like that. I'm the guy who never had chicken until college and still picks things off and out of my food.

This was my second year attending the Sportmans Banquet at Life Community Church outside of Greensboro. It's a bunch of guys eating things that are hunted and listening to the gospel of Jesus Christ. I personally find it a fun evening. It's like a revival meeting in a Bass Pro Shop.

The speaker tonight was Steve Hudson, a chaplain for several Nascar teams and the Motocross series. He was entertaining and yet straight-forward in his presentation of the gospel.

He spoke on being a tough guy. He deals with guys who would be considered tough. Guys that go really fast or jump over large things. But would you really consider Jeff Gordon or Kurt Busch a tough guy? I digress. A big mouth or a big gun doesn't make you a tough guy. Tough guys actually cry. Tough guys need help too. In his message, he related how tough guys have a responsibility to teach their sons (or daughters). That us something that I took to heart. What kind of example do I set for my son? What kind of example do I set for Christ. It's a daily battle sometimes. However, I know my strength comes from God, and that he has a plan for me if I will seek his will.

I just have to have faith. Who knew that I would enjoy Goose Jerky? Miracles do happen.

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What's a Cone of Shame?

This is Jordan.

And that is his cone of shame.

Jordan is our almost 8-year-old Weimaraner that should be more excited than he seems in this picture.  He is now cancer free.  About 3 months ago, the Vet noticed the lump growing on his left front leg and wanted to run a test.  It came back that it was a group of mast cells, which is cancer.  We were worried, but it didn't bother him.  He was his normal self, which is to say he was slightly shy of doggy insanity.  We'll cover that later.

He had his first surgery back in July, but the doctor didn't get all of the mast cells.  So a few weeks ago, he had his second surgery to remove the cancer from his leg.  So back came the cone of shame.

The reference comes from the Disney movie Up.  It's in Taylor's rotation of favorite movie of the moment.  It's a pretty funny movie if you haven't seen it.  I recommend it.

This is Doug.  See the resemblence?

The problem since I took that picture 2 days ago is not Jordan's leg but his side.  In the picture, you can see the shaved area on his side.  During the last surgery, the doctor decided to remove a fatty deposit on his side just to be on the safe side.  Not a big deal until that area split open yesterday, and Jordan had to go back to the vet.  Turns out it's a medical mystery in that his side had not healed at all.  They had to restitch the area.  Terrific.  Well tonight, he managed to pull all of his stitches out of his side.  Way to go.  So who knows what's going to happen now.  We've got him bandaged up, but got a feeling that won't last.

Looks like another trip to the vet is going to happen next week.  I feel like a wing of the Cabarrus Animal Hosptial needs to be named in Jordan's honor.  I'll tell you Jordan's story later, but I wonder why I didn't get a less troublesome animal than a 70 pound neurotic dog with a penchant for devouring any morsel of food in sight.  Like Doug says in Up, "He is my master, and I love him."  That's my Jordan.

What makes a grown man do jumping jacks in his living room at midnight?

Two words.  College football.

It was the fourth quarter of the UNC/LSU game.  After falling down by 20 points, our team was making a great comeback.  Maybe the players heard something that Kirk Herbstreit said from the broadcasting booth.  He'd been the one all week saying that we could rally together and have a chance to win.  We'd been reminded all night of the issues our program faced with the suspended players.  We'd made every dumb mistake possible in the game (2 of our first 4 offensive plays were fumbles) but somehow we were driving to win the game.

Back to my impromptu exercise routine that had broken out in my living room.  It was nearing midnight, and the rest of the family was long asleep.  At least some of them were.  I'd just ran into the bedroom and woken up my wife to let her know of the epic comeback that was taking place on my TV screen.  After realizing the house was not on fire, our child had not been kidnapped, and we were not being robbed, her heart was able to return to some semblence of a normal rhythm.  Apparently, she didn't like being woken up from a dead sleep all circumstances considered.  I felt like a blue-clad Paul Revere alerting the masses of the things going on while they slept.

As I've mentioned before, I get a little excited during sporting events.  Two fourth quarter touchdowns and an LSU fumble when they were trying to ice the game had given Tarheel nation hope.  As the Tarheels drove down the field with less than 1 minute to go, I found myself jumping up and down as T.J. Yates completed pass after pass to seemingly wide open receivers.  I couldn't yell and scream because my 3-year old was asleep.  So the extra excitement that couldn't be audibly released somehow turned the jumping around into full-out jumping jacks.  I'm sure it looked silly, but who cares, our offense was moving the ball like I've never seen.

Unfortunately, 2 straight passes were dropped in the end zone to end the game.  Final score, 30-24.

I can't watch commercials during high drama sporting events in which my team is playing.  So in the fourth quarter, I would flip channels just to pass the 2 to 3 minutes during commercial breaks.  Somehow that was easier than watching the commercials.  I kept going back to TNT which was showing Titanic.  It was the end of the movie (spoiler alert) where the ship was going down.  I kept thinking to myself at that time when we were down 20 points in the fourth quarter that our season and program as a whole could be like that ship.  Full of promise but arrogance and poor decisions would dereail the trip.  Oh how true that may turn out to be.  John Blake "resigned" yesterday from UNC's football staff.  He was at the center of all the controversy and his fingerprints appear to be all over the evidence.  I'm hoping that was just the glancing blow to the ship that is our football program.  But who knows what other damage is below the surface that could inflict more carnage.