DaVinci Mayhem and Hilarity

A recent article by Gordon Keith, a Dallas radio personality, made me laugh so hard I almost wet myself. Keep in mind that this guy is not writing from a religious perspective, and this is not in a Christian magazine. It does the best job I've seen of painting The DaVinci Code in the proper light. I'm so sick of DaVinci stuff, but this is too good to pass up.

Click and enjoy

Politics Part II

Peggy Noonan's latest column makes a lot of sense to me. In it she writes,

"The oddest thing about Republicans and Democrats in power is that they always know the technical facts, always know about fund raising, always know what the national committee is saying about getting turnout. But so often they don't know the message or even have a message. Which is funny, because they're in the message business. They're like shoemakers who make pretty shoeboxes but forget to make the shoes."

Finally someone succinctly describes the way I feel about our current political climate. Thank you, Peggy, for summarizing my thoughts.

Building Bridges

My last post about politics created a lot of conversation, and that's a good thing. We can't build bridges if we never put on our hard hats, strap on a tool belt and get to work. In this case "work" means conversations. We have to be able to talk to each other if we're ever going to appreciate and understand each other.

Special thanks to my cousin, Doug, for being willing to enter the conversation. It's no surprise to Doug and me that we won't always find common ground. He's a liberal from the North, and I'm a conservative from the South. I tend to see things more exclusively, and he has more of a pluralistic outlook. I just about can't bear to watch anything political these days, and Doug doesn't go a night without watching the pundits. We're from different worlds, and we see things in different ways.

I used to think that was bad, and it appeared that Doug and I would never really be close. We were too far apart, and us dumb Southerners (a title more felt than stated) could never really be taken seriously by our Yankee relatives. At the same time, our secular Northern intillectual family never felt tolerated by their Bible toting, evangelical cousins. Doug and I have never talked openly about these feelings, but we didn't have to. These thoughts were like that t-shirt you thought was a good purchase, but now only takes up space in your drawer. You never talk about it, but it's always there.

I think deep down Doug and I never really bought in to all of those feelings. We always knew we liked each other, but weren't sure how to overcome the unstated junk that kept us apart. We have always been kindred spirits, but have never had the time or opportunity to explore a true relationship. I think those days are over.

Last month Doug flew into Dallas for business, and we met up and had dinner at a local tex-mex. It was the first time I didn't feel threatened by Doug's extremely well-spoken wit and intellect. We had a wonderful time, and my wife and I felt cared for and listened to, and there was a mutual respect and admiration that has been awkward to achieve in the past. We followed up that visit with a spirited conversation about politics right here on this blog. That same respect and admiration was present in our conversation.

Maybe we're just older and wiser, and maybe we are tired of feeling like we have something to defend. We are who we are, and that's ok. It's good to know that we don't have to change each other to enjoy each other. Thanks for the visit, Doug, and I look forward to building more bridges with you in the future.

Hey You... Get in Here!!

My political post was starting to burn a hole in my blog, so I decided to post something fun to add a little levity. Take a peak at this little gem from "Get In Here Ministries." Johnny Lang and Chachi Laruso will change your life if you let them. Make sure you scroll down the page and watch their interview. These guys remind me of some of my former youth pastors. Enjoy!

My, uhm, thoughts on politics... I think.

I have been very hesitant to throw my political opinions around these days because I'm not sure I can come up with a concise statement that sums up my thoughts. I know that I'm not happy with the way things are going... gas prices through the roof, death tolls in Iraq still rising, genocide in Sudan, etc, etc. These are difficult times, and I don't envy any politician who has to weed through the media, special interest groups and a polarized and divided country.

Having said that, I am disturbed by what seems to be a lack of understanding among Americans about the history of the Middle East and the conflict we are currently engaged in. Islamo-fascism is an insidious religious philosophy akin to that of Hitler, Stalin and Mussolini. In my opinion, it's even worse because it uses religion to justify its violence and oppression. The situation in Sudan, Africa is a prime example.

If you'll recall, Khartoum, Sudan, the capital of the country, is the place where the events of 9-11 were planned by Osama bin Laden and others. It has long been a hot bed of terrorist activity. Sudan is currently the location of the first genocide of the new millennium. As it stands, more than 300,000 people have been slaughtered, and more than 2 million are displaced from their homes. All of these events are being carried out by Islamic fundamentalists bent on world domination. Ironically, these are the same Islamic fundamentalists who dominate Middle Eastern culture.

All of this makes me wonder what might have happened if we had intervened earlier when Hitler was killing the Jews? What if we could have squeaked into Central Europe and helped change the culture before it was too late?

In many ways it seems to me that we are doing exactly that in Iraq. We're trying to import a philosophy of democracy and freedom into a world that has been infiltrated by the most insidious religious dogma in the history of the world (you'll forgive me if I rank it even higher than Constantine's wrong-headed Christianity that led to the crusades). It's amazing to me that Christianity is still paying for the crusades, yet we never seem to hear word one from Bush-bashing musicians and actors about Islamo-fascism. Where's the outrage?

I will admit that I have a hard time with George W. Bush. He's a terrible public speaker, and seems lost at times in front of the media. I think I'd probably really enjoy a sit down with him at his Crawford, TX ranch, but he's hard for me to take seriously in a public forum. I honestly felt the same way about President Clinton, but for different reasons.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that, although I'm concerned about the direction of our country, I am not going to sit here and bash President Bush for the conflict in Iraq. Something must be done to slow the spread of Islamo-fascism. Is this the right way to do it? I don't know. What I do know is that I would have preferred that my country took measures to change the culture of Nazi Germany before so many innocents had to die. I would still prefer that we take action, regardless of our initial intent, to stop the spread of fundamentalist Islam before it's too late.

Those are my hot political opinions. I struggle with this... I really do. I don't want to be one of those blind Christians who think that Jesus was a Republican, but I don't want to be lumped in with the cocaine and boob-job Hollywood crowd either. I love Jesus, but aside from that I'm not always sure where I stand. Lord, help me get it right.

DaVinci Debate

There is great anticipation and trepidation regarding the release of Dan Brown's The DaVinci Code onto the big screen. I read the book and was riveted by the action and suspense, but nauseated by the fallacious representation of historical Christianity. Regardless of how you feel about it, you should enjoy this spirited debate between Bart Ehrman and Richard Hays that occured at Duke Divinity School.

Click here to listen to the debate.

King of the Hill Church

OK, I couldn't help but post this excerpt from the TV show King of the Hill. It's about finding a new church, and the commentary it makes on mega-churches in particular is priceless. As a pastor, I couldn't agree more with this hillarious spoof. Click here to check it out.

Just Another Conference?

I was about as excited to attend the National Conference on Preaching as I would've been to mow a football field with a push mower. I don't like conferences, especially the ones targeted toward middle aged pastors wearing Sans-a-belt's and shiny golf shirts who like to mill around in the hallways between sessions touting their church's gaudy attendance numbers. Not to mention the fact that I don't do a lot of preaching, making it all the more strange that I would attend a conference geared to help preachers craft their art.

I must say, however, that this conference was one of the best I've attended since surrendering to Christian ministry in 1996. The highlight was a message by Haddon Robinson, the great professor of homiletics at Gordon Conwell Seminary in Boston, MA. Robinson is not a pretty man. He has a face made for radio, but his presence is unmistakable. He spoke about using your imagination while preaching. His contention: most pastors forsake any use of imagination and creativity when addressing the Bible.

Robinson became my new hero when he shared about Jephtha, the mighty warrior mentioned in Judges 11. Jephtha's mother was a prostitute, and Robinson challenged us to see life from his perspective. Always being reminded by his peers that his mom was a dirty whore. Never being able to forget that he was a bastard. It was a shocking display.

Anyone who can preach a successful sermon to a group of stiff pastors and use the terms "whore" and "bastard" is worthy of recognition! I loved Robinson's boldness, and his delivery was captivating. Sign me up for next year's National Conference on Preaching. I may even buy a pair of Sans-a-belt's!!

What if you could stop the Holocaust?

A recent article in World Magazine entitled "Spectator to Genocide" tells of the unthinkable atrocities going on in the Darfur region of Sudan, Africa. Maybe one day we will stop sitting and watching as murderers bent on world domination slaughter entire races of innocent people under our noses. Many will read this and wonder, "What can I do? How can I make a difference?" Perhaps the first place to start is to be aware of the problem. It's hard to read something like this and not be stirred to action.

Please sign this postcard that will be sent to President Bush. It may not seem like much, but it's better than sitting on the couch, drinking a coke, and thinking "Boy, that's really terrible. Where's the remote?"

Special thanks to Denny Burk for making me aware of this article.

Louisiana Thoughts

There is truly no place like Louisiana. The rich history, one of a kind food and down home hospitality make going home a nostalgic and wonderful experience. Kim, the kids and I made the 7 hour drive to the Lake Charles area for the Easter holiday, and I'd like to share a few thoughts from our trip.

Crazy Cajun Preacher

My cousin, Keith Fontenot, gave me a book about my Great Grandfather, Reverend Dallas Hayes. I can't believe this book! There is one story in it about how Reverend Hayes was called to Cow Creek, TX, because there was a cowboy named Blackwell who had already run off five preachers. They thought maybe Reverend Hayes could do something about the cowboy due to his reputation as a tough old cajun. They called the right man.

Reverend Hayes spoke one night to an overflow crowd, and it was rumored that cowboy Blackwell was going to be on hand to try to run the old preacher off. As soon as Hayes started preaching, Blackwell stood up in the back of the church and started cussing and making fun of the cajun preacher. Reverend Hayes closed his Bible and asked the cowboy to get quiet. Blackwell continued his mocking, and Reverend Hayes continued to ask him to pipe down. Finally, Reverend Hayes stepped away from the pulpit, walked to the back of the church, and grabbed Blackwell by the neck. He took Blackwell outside and began beating his head against the wall of the tabernacle until his knees buckled. Needless to say there was much singing and praising the Lord that night, and nobody ever heard from that old cowboy again!

Man, how cool is that! I always knew my brother and I got that wild, crazy streek from someone. It's funny because I have secretly wished that a similar situation would happen to me. I always thought it would be kind of cool to beat somebody down in church. I know it's not a popular thought, but maybe the problem with church today is that nobody thinks the preacher could whip them!

Easter Services
My family attended Easter services at Trinity Baptist Church of Lake Charles, LA. This is the same church where Kim and I were married, and we always enjoy seeing old friends and family each time we come back to Trinity. The Pastor, Steve James, shared a good message, and one thing he said in particular impacted me greatly.

When speaking about the resurrection, Pastor James shared about the two women who first heard the news of Jesus' rising again. He shared that the Bible says that these women "ran" to tell the others. His point was that "Good news doesn't walk, it runs!"

I immediately thought of my kids hunting Easter eggs the day before. Every time they found a treat in their eggs, they would run - not walk - to me and tell me the good news. I thought of the many times I had run in the house to tell my wife some type of wonderful thing that had happened that day. Good news makes us eager, and there is no way you can walk when you have wonderful news to share.

What better news to run and share than the truth of the resurrection of Christ?!

Good News doesn't walk, it runs!!

Restoration
While in Louisiana, we stayed with my In-laws. Their home was damaged badly as a result of hurricane Rita, and they are still in the rebuilding process. The living room still doesn't have flooring down, and the front and back yards are clear, but not back to normal. There are holes where grass once grew, and the entire terrain has lost many of its greatest treasures: those wonderful Southwest Louisiana trees.

There are still tarps on roofs, and every other house has a damaged fence. Even though the hurricane did its damage several months ago, the clean up process is a slow one, and the area is like a strung out junkie trying to pick up the pieces of his life in a rehab center.

Restoration must be a patient process, or the faint of heart will lose faith and give up. My In-laws, though beaten by this bully of a storm, have persevered and are making so much progress. They have the prettiest yard in the neigborhood, and their house will be close to normal once the floors are installed later this week. They have a new roof, and their fence, destroyed by a thirty foot tall pine tree, is back in place and better than ever. Pop (my Father-in-law) has been working tirelessly to put things back in order, and the results are clear and amazing. The place looks great, considering all they've been through, and I'm so proud to know that they haven't given up or given in.

I see a greater story in all of this. When I think of the restoration they are striving for, I'm reminded of the restoration that will come for those who believe in Jesus, and patiently endure till the end. I'm reminded of the resurrection, which secures our hope. We may be broken and damaged now, but restoration awaits!

Emerge-ency?

I have a tendancy to write a lot about myself and my family, and although there is certainly nothing wrong with that, I also want this to be a place where information is shared and "big picture" issues are discussed. In light of that, I thought I'd share with you some information about a new movement within the church known as "The Emerging Movement." As a pastor the church is pretty consuming to me, but The Emerging Movement has been particularly fascinating, and I hope you leave this blog more informed after sinking your teeth into this entry.

Throughout history the church has been transforming its methodology (and sometimes its beliefs) based on the changes that have occured in the culture at large. One wonders whether The Reformation would have even been a blip on the map had the printing press not been invented within the same time frame. Had the writings of Calvin and Luther been hidden from the masses, would the movement have changed the face of the church? Would the contemporary churches of the late eighties and nineties have made such a mark without the advent of broadcast media (television)? Does the digital age that we are entering have any implications for the church, and if so, what are they?

These are questions for every generation, but they are particularly poignant in light of our rapidly changing, technologically advanced culture. We have entered a new world, and although the gospel of Jesus Christ is as true as ever, the methods by which we communicate that truth are as broad as ever. This is where The Emerging Movement (EM) comes in.

Scot McKnight, a professor in religious studies at North Park University in Chicago, has recently written an article on EM, and offers much insight into this oft misunderstood movement. In it he writes, "(EM) is a conversation about the future direction of the evangelical church in a postmodern world; it's a reaction and a protest against traditional evangelical churches; and it's a conversation focused less on theological niceties and more on 'performing' the gospel in a local setting." In other words, EM could be best described by three main characteristics:

• EM seeks impact in a radically changing culture
• EM is frustrated by traditional approaches to ministry
• EM is missional

Some clarification needs to be made on the second of these characteristics. From what I've read and discussed, EM does not seek to trash traditional methods of "doing church" as much as it despises traditions that highlight methodology over and above true Christian practice. This reaction comes from a long history within the church of majoring on things like building projects, hymns and Sunday attire to the exclusion of concepts like grace, freedom and service. Leaders of the EM would never argue that traditional churches aren't necessary to the universal church. On the contrary, EM leaders would be more prone to seek convergence with these churches in order to work together toward a greater call, that of the gospel.

There is another aspect of EM that is causing a lot of controversy these days. Many have contested that EM is not simply a discussion of methodologies and missiologies, but of doctrine and theology. There have certainly been many EM leaders who have voiced questions about the orthodox docrtines of the faith. Brian McLaren, one of Time magazines most influential Evangelicals, is a leader in the EM and has raised questions on doctrines such as the Trinity and the virgin birth. He has also failed to take any sort of hard stance on other traditionally important issues such as homosexuality. This has been troubling to many who tend to define EM as a fringe, theologically liberal movement.

Mark Driscoll, a pastor in Seattle, WA, is one of the key voices in the EM. He is theologically conservative, but refers to himself as "the cussing pastor." Obviously he's not your Father's preacher. In a recent article in the Criswell Theological Journal, Driscoll writes,

"As a pastor I find the entire conversation encouraging, stimulating, and frightening. What I find encouraging is the groundswell of interest among Christians who do not want to separate from culture like fundamentalists, or simply baptize culture like liberals, but want to earnestly wrestle over the nature of the gospel and how can it be most faithfully contextualized in culture. What I find stimulating is the growing focus on docrine and the way it forces people to consider their docrinal positions and dig more deeply since pat answers to tough questions are no longer sufficient. But, what I find frightening is the trend among some to drift from what I consider to be faithful conservative evangelical theological convictions in favor of a less distictively Christian spirituality. The relust is a trip around the same cul-de-sac of false doctrine that a previous generation spent their life driving around while touting their progress."

I couldn't agree more with Driscoll's assessment, and I look forward, with nervous anticipation, to the conversations to come. It's a very exciting time to be part of the church!

Trent's First Blog

My oldest son, Trent, has been keeping a journal now for a few weeks. I thought that was a pretty big deal for a six year old, so I asked him if he'd like to post one of his journal entries on my blog. He was excited, and has accepted my offer.

Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Trent's first ever blog entry!

_______________________________________________

Yesterday I played baseball on a real field (The Dr. Pepper ballpark at Ameriquest Field in Arlington, TX). It was very cool to play on a real field! I also got to go with my friend ,Caden, to a party for his Mimi's birthday. I was very good and nice there, and after that I went to Caden's house to spend the night and I had a really fun time! We watched Star Wars for a little while, and we talked about how King Kong has stinky arm pits.

The Nastiest Dude Ever!!

In the midst of my second year at Louisiana College in Pineville, LA, I met a friend, Danny Hoychick, who would quickly become like a brother to me. Even that doesn't quite do our relationship justice. We weren't really "like" brothers, we sensed that somewhere, somehow, we might actually have the same blood flowing through our veins.

I know it sounds crazy, but we were so alike, so closely connected, that it didn't seem like that far of a leap. And then we met Doc Savage.

Doc Savage is a pulp fiction (not the movie, but the genre of literature) character who came on the scene in a series of graphic novels that began in 1933. It was Lester Dent who crafted the character, known as "The Man of Bronze", into the superman that he became. Dent, who wrote most of the adventures, described his hero - Clark "Doc" Savage Jr. - as a cross between “Sherlock Holmes with his deducting ability, Tarzan of the Apes with his towering physique and muscular ability, Craig Kennedy with his scientific knowledge, and Abraham Lincoln with his Christliness.” But the thing that drew Danny and me to Doc Savage was a puzzle that Danny's uncle had hidden in his attic.

For some reason that puzzle - a picture of raw toughness - appealed to our sense of adventure, masculinity, and sheer stupidity. We just thought Doc Savage, with his torn shirt, raging pectorals, and clinched fists, was the nastiest dude we had ever seen. And there was something about the look in his eyes that called to something deep within our souls. It was as if we were Luke Skywalker in the final scene of The Empire Strikes back, and Doc was Darth Vader. If we listened closely, we could almost hear Doc whisper "Boys, I am your Father."

I don't know if it was our need for a mentor or what, but Doc Savage became the inspiration for everything we did. We tore our shirts, framed the puzzle and hung it on our wall, and even reminisced about how Doc had led us in and out of certain situations in our lives, even though we didn't even know he existed. It was like life suddenly made better sense now that we had uncovered this hidden heritage. We were part of a greater story, the story of Doc Savage, and there was a strange pride and connection between us as a result.

Danny and I have been out of touch now for somewhere around 10 years. About two weeks ago, Danny emailed me. We spoke on the phone that night, and it was clear that we had both changed quite a bit. Those days of drinking until we couldn't remember our names are distant memories, but our connection remains as close as ever. This time around, though, our connection isn't centered around Doc Savage (although we still know that Doc is our daddy). Our main topic of conversation these days is Jesus Christ.

So, after all these years, Danny and I still find ourselves reminiscing about being led along on an adventure greater than ourselves. We are still drawn to a bigger story with a vast heritage. We're as close as ever to the one who says in a still, small voice, "I am your Father." We have a new hero, and our friendship has never been better!

Suffocating for a Year

Last April my best friend, Mike Spratt, suddenly dropped dead of a heart attack. Mike was 33 years old, and his wife, Shauna, was seven months pregnant with their first child. I'll never forget the phone call I recieved from my Mom telling me of Mike's untimely death. It was approximately 1am, and I was asleep on the couch. Kim and the kids were visiting her parent's in Louisiana, and I was home alone. I answered the phone in a daze, and was awakened in the most rude fashion possible.

In the first moments after I was informed of Mike's death, it was like I had been held underwater until panic set in, and I struggled to the surface for a breath. My eyes burned with the onset of immediate tears, and I felt stunned, like a prize fighter after a devestating power punch to the nose. Staggered and suffocated, my mind raced through all the memories we shared.

Growing up, Mike and I spent at least four days a week together from the time we were four years old through our high school years. We threw passes in the field behind his house, played video games til all hours of the night, and developed our own version of the Olympics in the Spratt's living room. We used to wake up early on Saturday mornings to watch our favorite cartoons, and we developed quite a home video collection, replete with fake commercials, "man on the street" interviews, and snow skiing highlights.

Mike was as good a friend as anyone could ask for. He was as loyal as a German Shepherd, as noble as a knight, and as humble as a George Shultz cartoon. I was at my best when Mike and I were together, and I miss his friendship terribly.

There are times in our lives when we lose touch with the things we grew up with. It's an unfortunate right of passage that is part of growing up and growing out. Mike and I experienced this season of our friendship, and were beginning to enter a new phase, marked by a renewed interest in each others lives. Unfortunately, this new season was cut tragically short.

There's really no point to this except to say that I miss Mike. He saw each of my children before they came home from the hospital. I saw his daughter, Ladan, before she left the hospital. She looked a lot like Mike. I sure wish we could have raised our kids together.

It's been a year, and I'm still suffocating at the thought of it. I just wish I could come up for air.

Check out the Mike's charity golf tournament at http://www.helives.com/mikeSpratt/

Dashboard Confessional

I watched tearfully today as a single Mom timidly drove out of the church parking lot in a 1992 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme. No, I wasn't crying because somebody actually had to get behind the wheel of that doomed make and model. Normally I wouldn't wish that upon my worst enemy. I was moved because this precious woman caught a much needed break in a life marked by heartache and hardship. Her car, you see, was a donation, a gift of love by a person who had never had the priveledge of meeting the woman they so generously blessed.

This year alone Irving Bible Church has given away a staggering 40 cars to folks of varying ages, genders, and life situations. Most have fallen upon some seriously hard times, and a car represents a clean slate with which to spark an upward trend. All are grateful, especially those of us priveledged enough to take part in the give-a-way process.

I'll never forget the time we gave a manual transmission Jeep Cherokee away to a man who had never driven a stick before. I nearly slipped a disk trying to teach this guy how to drive. Sitting in the passengers seat that afternoon felt more like riding shotgun in a horse drawn buggy down a rocky slope than a driving lesson, but we kept at it. We screeched around the parking lot for an hour before deciding to drive him home so that his brother-in-law could continue his lessons until he was safe on the roads. When we dropped him off, this smiling young man yelled "I'm going to learn how to drive this car, I promise you that!"

I'm pretty sure he kept his promise.

Most of the cars we give away aren't going to win any beauty pageants. Many are well worn with high mileage and splotched paint. Occasionally we'll get something in which your kids wouldn't be embarrased to be dropped off at school. Regardless, for those looking to make life work "for" instead of against them, beauty is not a high priority. They just want what I like to call an "A to B" car. That's the kind of vehicle that serves one purpose and one purpose only: to get you from "A to B" in one piece.

In working with this wonderful ministry I've learned to cherish my 1994 Nissan Maxima. Although it has a whopping 170,000 miles on it, I am able to make it from "A to B" whenever need be. It's paid for, and it's one of two vehicles that inhabit my driveway (a driveway which, by the way, is attached to my house - yet another reason to be thankful!). I have it so much better than most, and the car ministry keeps me mindful of that valuable perspective.

So the next time you think you might be better off without that clunker, think about the person who might see your lemon as the apple of her eye, and consider donating your vehicle to the cause. We'll make sure it's running, and we'll find someone who will be happy to set sail in your castaway... even if they have to learn how to drive it first!

For more information on the car minstry of Irving Bible Church, click here

All in a Day's Work

There are many things one can easily accomplish in a day. I have a friend who runs long distances, and he ran 26 miles in one day. My wife somehow manages to drive our youngest son about 120 miles back and forth from therapy each day. On Wall Street, brokers buy, sell, and trade stocks at a frantic pace, and millions of dollars change hands all in the course of a day. A lot can happen in a day.

Something happened to me yesterday that might be the greatest accomplishment I've ever achieved in a day. I read a book. That's right, cover to cover in one day. The book, Ellie Wiesel's classicly heartbreaking holocaust chronicle, Night, is a thin book, but a book none-the-less.

The contents of this book sit locked in my mind like some terrible secret gnawing at my soul. It's one of those books that make you feel like you've done something wrong for knowing things like this happened and not doing anything about them. I still can't believe something like the holocaust actually happened. Genocide is quite possibly the most evil and shameful invention of man, and the Nazi's own the patent. They were methodical machines of torture, murder, and shame, and it's so painfully tragic to read the plight of those who were the objects of their insidious regime.

I'm glad I read this book. It made me feel literally sick, but there was something so pure about it, like the look in the eyes of a child when they've cut their finger. I needed to see that my life was so charmed and easy that I have absolutely no reason to complain... ever. I also think it's important for Christians to see that humanity is capable of the most horrendous evil. We must be reminded, especially in these days, that Satan is at work in the hearts and minds of those who are "by nature children of wrath" (Eph. 2:3). Acknowledging the presence of evil also helps us long for the hope of the resurrection.

A lot can happen in a day!

FINAL FOUR!!

How about those LSU Tigers!! Big Baby and the Tigers were just too much for the Texas Longhorns in the Elite Eight, and they now advance to the Final Four for the first time since 1986!

This team is so fun to watch, and they look like they have even more fun off the court. Big Baby (Glen Davis) said "I have a tapeworm. I'm still hungry for more!" I've never seen a kid that big with a tapeworm. He looks like a brisket with legs.

I officially have March Madness!!

On another note, check out my son, Cale, in his tee ball duds. I think he and Big Baby resemble each other. I had no clue he'd be playing for the Tigers. Geez, life is good!


And one last thought for you: when LSU knocked off Texas Saturday afternoon, they completed the clean sweep of the flagship universities of the state of Texas. That's right, Louisiana - 2, Texas - 0. So what if they beat us in every other national statistic? This is basketball for crying out loud!!

Tiger Bait!

LSU absolutely manhandled the Duke Blue Devils Thursday night in Atlanta to reach the Elite 8 round of the NCAA tournament. Big Baby, Tyrus Thomas, and Co. made Duke look more soft than a middle school kid getting his lunch money taken by the block bully. Thomas was swatting away shots at will, and Davis was splitting double teams and filling up the lane with his bear-like frame. It was a beautiful sight!

Nobody believed me, but I told everybody who would listen that LSU was going to shock the world and beat the Dookies.

GEAUX TIGERS!!!

Sinus Surgery Notes (Not for the faint of heart)

Surgery wasn't as bad as I thought. I was more frightened than Bevo at an Aggie pep rally, but my fears were, as usual, misplaced. Who would've thought that getting the "Full Monty" on my sinuses would turn out to be a relatively easy procedure? Well, it was, and now all I can do is pray that this turns out to be the remedy I've been needing to feel better.

I will tell you that Monday afternoon was a little bit miserable. I can't have you guys thinking that I didn't suffer at least a little bit through this process! After arriving home at about 2pm, I collapsed into bed like a tranquilized bear. I was out of it! In my stupor, I kept noticing something that didn't quite feel right, but I couldn't tell if it was real or just a morphine induced dream.

I'd fall asleep, and then wake up suddenly coughing. Apparently I was choking on my own blood, and it eventually caused me to stumble out of bed and head toward the bathroom. I leaned my head over the sink, and experienced something I can only refer to as "blood faucet". That's the phenomenon that occurs when blood so rapidly flows from your nose and mouth that it looks like an open faucet. It was kind of like Psycho meets Raging Bull, but there was also something kind of cool about it, in a gross sort of way.

Anyway, I experience blood faucet at least twice a day when I "flush" my sinuses (a proceedure whereby I spray a generous amount of saline up my nose until, that's right, the faucet turns on). In a wierd kind of way, this disgusting process has been a good one. With each flush I sense that I'm healing and becoming free of this problem. In a wierd way I'm reminded of how the blood of Christ heals me and sets me free. I know, it's a gross way to get a point across, but sometimes you can't really heal until you've gone through the gross stuff.

Big Baby!

LSU's Glen Davis, aka Big Baby, makes me happy. This guy is 6 feet 9 inches, 305 lbs., and he's seriously one of the largest people I've ever seen. Davis, the SEC's player of the year, is a beast. Nobody's been able to stop him all season, and now that it's NCAA tournament time, Big Baby is delivering big time!

There are two big reasons why I like this guy so much: 1) He wears the number "0", and 2) He's got a great sense of humor. I just think it's so cool that a guy that big, who has shoulders that look like Atlas could stand on them as he picks up the earth, would wear a big zero on his chest. Fact is, Davis is far from a zero. He played for team USA this summer, dominated the Southeaster Conference, and is garnering lots of attention from drooling NBA scouts who would love to lure him away from LSU in hopes of a lucrative deal in the pro's.

But Big Baby is all about the fun. This guy loves to laugh, truly enjoys the game, and lives up to his nickname (he put the "Gentle" in Gentle Giant). Davis reminds me of the wonderful people of the great state of Louisiana. He obviously loves to eat, he works hard, and he adds a spice to life that is unmistakable.

What's more, he and the Tigers just gave me bragging rights with all the Texas A&M folks that surround me! Thanks Big Baby!!

Geaux Tigers!!