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WorldNetDaily: Housing officials 'cancel' Christmas

WorldNetDaily: Housing officials 'cancel' Christmas

My friend Warren sent me this link saying that if he had a blog, he would blog about this. I can't believe that we live in the land of the free, but people are not allowed to celebrate their religious holidays because they live in government subsidized housing.

Land of the free, my ass
-Robert

I love Montreat and Auburn

I do! I really, really do!

I had a great time in Montreat last Thursday through Monday. My planning team (Montreat West 06) is awesome and our leadership team rocks. I am so excited about the conference we will be putting on this summer and I know that God will be praised and worshiped and will recreate with us.

The meetings were over on Saturday at 7:45 PM. Perfect timing because the Auburn at Georgia game started at 7:45 PM. As worship ended, I sprinted down the hall to the lobby to watch the game. I think I had 3 heart attacks during the game, but in the end our kicker redeemed himself and the Tigers were victorious. Next up - UAT (that is the University of Alabama at Tuscaloser).

So, I came back from a wonderful trip and now I am back in the funk. Work sucks and I can't get motivated to do anything about it. Good thing Auburn has a football game this weekend and that I am going back to Montreat next week for Thanksgiving.

War Eagle and I love Montreat,

-Junior

Home Sweet Home

I am headed to Montreat tomorrow. I am serving as a Planning Team member on the 2006 Montreat West Youth Conference team. I love going to Montreat. Just the thought of being in that place is enough to calm my anxieties. I wish I could have that feeling everyday. I will update later with how the meetings are going.

Seacrest Out

The Grind

No, I am not referring to what you may do to coffee beans, or to a provocative dance (although that would be an interesting post), or to an MTV dance show. I am talking about the same ole crap that we do every day because we have to. For me, it is getting up and going to work. As you may have read in earlier posts, I really should have NO reason to complain about my job. I am rewarded, recognized, and compensated for my hard work. But, that just isn't enough sometimes.

I am in the process of switching roles at work. My new role will be much more leveraged and influential. I will learn a lot and will be depended on for my strong opinion much more. I will be self-directed and self-managed and will be responsible for dealing with many outside groups and clients. All in all, this new role will be very challenging and will be 3 or 4 steps up the proverbial 'corporate ladder'. But, I still don't think that is enough.

Although this new role may feed my ego and may cause me to be more highly compensated, I am not sure that it will make 'The Grind' any less painful. I hunger for something more. I still haven't found it (cue the U2 music), but I am patiently waiting for God to show me the door so I can open it.

-Samir Nagheenanajar

Living River

Thursday night while I was sitting at Gulftreat thinking about all of my memories of camping at Gulftreat, I felt the need to share my story. So, I typed the following email and sent it to the Fundraising committee for the new Presbytery of Sheppards and Lapsley camp 'Living River'. I thought I would share it with all:

From Elementary Camp to Hurricane Katrina
Camping in the Presbytery of Sheppards and Lapsley

My first memories of camp are as a young elementary aged kid at Gufltreat. My dad was the Youth Pastor at FPC, Selma and he was leading a Work Camp of Senior Highs while my little brother, my mom, and I tagged along and called it a ‘family vacation’. A few years later, we moved from Selma to Atlanta. Even after we moved I attended Elementary and Middle School Summer camp at Gulftreat instead of attending Cherokee Presbytery’s Camp. My dad also began to bring the youth group from Marietta to Gulftreat for weekend retreats and spring break trips. During college, I worked at Gulftreat as a camp counselor and helped lead day camps in Wilcox County, Anniston, Montgomery, and Tuscaloosa. I also helped plan and attended many college retreats at Gulftreat. After I married Morgan, we began to bring her youth group to Gulftreat for Presbytery retreats and we even had a ‘family vacation’ of our own here. Now I am at Gulftreat helping victims of Hurricane Katrina live here and start to put their lives back together.

As you can tell, Gulftreat holds a special place in my heart. I have a lifetime of memories in these old cinder block buildings and I am only 27 years old. I have cried, laughed, sang, shouted, worked, prayed, and played here. I have spent the last week helping to fixing all of the hundreds of things that are broken and not working in these old, old buildings. Even though I see the state of this camp and my head tells me that everything is broken and beyond repair, my heart still hurts to know that it is time to move on.

I know there are many other people that have similar stories about Gulftreat and have similar feelings about how hard it will be when the time comes to lock it up for the last time. I also know that there are many other people who are ready to shut this place down and build a brand new camp that has everything in the world in it. And then there a lot of people like me who hurt for the loss of Gulftreat but are excited about the possibilities of the new camp on the Cahaba. And this brings me to my point…

All of these people are right. We are ALL right because we (the Presbytery of Sheppards and Lapsley) has for generations made camping a priority in the mission of our church. We have volunteered at camps, given money to camps, built camps, lead camps, attended camps, and prayed for camps and that is truly an amazing thing. There are hundreds of thousands of people who remember Gulftreat or Covenant Mountain or a Day Camp in their own church all because WE have made camping a priority. It is not the place that makes a camp special, regardless of how many good memories you have in that place, it is the people and the presence of the Holy Spirit that make a place special. That is exactly why I KNOW that the Living River Camp on the Cahaba will truly be a place full of the Holy Spirit. We have been given a wonderful opportunity to build a camp in our own backyard that can serve us and our kids hundreds of times more than Gulftreat ever could. So, I challenge you to not only give money to help build this camp, and to not only pray for this camp, and to not only tell more people about this camp, but when this camp is built to send your kids to this camp, send your grandkids to this camp, attend this camp yourself, volunteer at this camp, and make sure you bring the Holy Spirit that is SO alive in our Presbytery and our camping!

Peace,

Robert Hay, Jr.

Gulftreat - Day 4

Well, I finally had to leave Gulftreat to head home. I got up Friday morning and tried to take care of all the little things I needed to and made a list of items to hand off to the Shelter Director and the Pastor. I said goodbye to several of the volunteers and to some of the guests. They all were very appreciative of my time and hard work.

As I drove away, I couldn't help but feel like I was running away from people in need. I know that I just spent the last 4 days working my butt off and using my vacation time to do it. I know what I did was a good thing. However, was 4 days enough? These people will be living this nightmare for the next several months and I get to go home to my wife and dog and house after only 4 days. I get to go home and watch football all day on my comfy couch. I get to go back to my job and my friends and act like this devastation never occurred. The logical side of my brain tells me that there will always be more people I can help, but that I must get on with my life or I will spend the rest of my life volunteering. However, my heart wants to help as many people as I can as much as I can.

At work, we have this concept of 'Work/Life Balance'. Basically our bosses tell us that they want us to work hard, but that they also expect us to balance that with a life away from work so we don't get burnt out. How do I balance my life with a life of helping others?

slackers

I interrupt this regularly scheduled broadcast of my experiences at Gulftreat to announce that all you bloggers out there that are reading my blog and aren't updating your own blog are being a bunch of slackers. If I can find 10 minutes at the end of a long day of manual labor to write a blog, then you folks can find 5 minutes to at least make fun of me or something so that I have something to distract me from all of the grief around me. So, snap to it!!!

We now return to our regularly scheduled broadcast...

Katrina and Families - Day 3

Last night a lady who is probably in her early 60's checked into Gulftreat. Her son dropped her off. She is from Bay St. Louis and her apartment complex is completely gone. At dinner tonight I started talking with her and we had a pleasant conversation. It was like talking to one of my grandmother's friends. I learned that she used to be a medical transcriptionists, but she got bored of that life and decided to become a casino dealer. She has spent the last 10 years of her life as a dealer or pit boss in a variety of games. We talked about how all that worked and I learned some interesting information about gambling.

As the conversation progressed we began to talk about her family. I learned that she had a son and two daughters. The son and his family were staying at another shelter down the beach but that shelter didn't have room for a single woman so they sent her to us. One of her daughters was in a shelter in Destin. Her other daughter was not in a shelter. Instead she was staying in her vacation home right here in Panama City Beach. I wanted to say 'Why aren't you staying at the beachhouse with your daughter?' but the answer to my question came pretty quickly. She proceeded to tell me that she hadn't even talked to that daughter yet which was no surprise since they hadn't spoken in several years.

My heart hit the floor. Here is an older woman who has lost everything and she is staying in a shelter less than 10 minutes away from where her own daughter is living comfortably in a vacation home. My family isn't perfect, but I don't think anyone's family is, but I immediately was thankful for my family. Tonight, I am praying for this lady and her family and giving thanks for my family.

Gulftreat - Day 2

Well, I wish I could tell you that helping people during this disaster is uplifting and rewarding, but the truth is that it is emotionally draining and frustrating. I don't know how my friend Amy does it. She has been working at a homeless shelter in Atlanta and she sits for hours and listens to sob story after sob story. I know in my heart that what I am doing is the right thing. And I can tell on the faces of the evacuees (clients, guests, refugee, we haven't decided what term to use yet)that they appreciate me and all of the other volunteers. It is their stories that drain me. It is turning away people because we can't verify that they are actually from an evacuated area that drains me. But the 'guests' aren't the ones that frustrate me... it is is the other volunteers. Especially the retired Red Cross man who thinks he is God's gift to crisis management. But that is a story for when I am drunk and pissed off and right now I am only pissed off so I can't share it.

For all of you liberal, 'Save-the-(fill in the popular item/species/race of the day)', Wal-mart Haters, you will love this part of my post. So, I am drained physically and emotionally and I just need some time to experience something normal. So I get in my car and head to Wal-mart. I don't need anything particular, I just need some time alone. This is no normal Super Wal-mart, nope. This Super Wal-mart is close to the Beach and it has a liquor store in it AND an Air-brush store where you can get you own personalized PCB (that is Panama City Beach) air-brush t-shirt or any other item that they sell in the store (including sand-dollars). If you have never been to the 'Redneck Riviera', anything airbrushed is cool.

So, I just walked around Wal-mart looking at items I had looked at a million times. It was strangely refreshing and familiar. I am sure some of you are thinking to yourself that it is quite ironic that I would find so much spiritual renewal in such a heathen filled corporate mega-store. But to you I say "Always low prices, always!" And to you Presbyterian Seminary nerds who hate Wal-mart more than any group of people I have ever meet, remember that Sam Walton was a good Presbyterian who gave lots of money to the denomination that you are about to work for. You may have your issues with how he made his money, but I don't and I personally would like to give a shout out to Mr. Sam Walton (who is also a frat bro of mine) for building such an American store that it has made me feel better just for walking through it.

Thank God for Wal-mart,

Robert

Hurricane Katrina - Day 1

It has been a while since my last post and a lot has gone on in my life, but I will have to share that stuff at another time...

As you all are aware, Hurricane Katrina ripped through the Gulf Coast (AL, MS, and LA) early last week. Not only did the winds do tremendous damage as the Category 4 storm hit shore, but it also made a near direct hit on New Orleans, which we are all aware of now, was surrounded by levies that would only protect it from a Category 3. The devastation and the number of people who have suffered is greater than any tragedy that this country has seen in a long time and it is definitely the greatest tragedy of my lifetime. As I watched this tragedy unfold on every news channel, I wondered what it was that I could do. Morgan and I spoke about it several times, but felt that the only thing we could do was give money (which is not a little thing to do, they need lots of money). So, when my dad called and said that he had opened his camp in Panama City Beach as a shelter and needed some help I felt that was someone (upstairs) trying to tell me something. Fortunately for me, my managers were very understanding about the situation on such short notice and allowed me to take the time to come down here and help.

For those of you who don't know, my dad is a Presbytery Executive for Nurture for the Presbytery of Sheppards and Lapsley. Basically that means he runs all of the camps, conferences, and retreats for the Presbyterian Churches in the middle portion of the state of Alabama. The Presbytery that he works for owns a camp, Gulftreat, that is located 2 blocks from the beach in beautiful Panama City Beach, Florida. I grew up coming to this camp, have worked at this camp as a counselor in college, and have attended this camp as an adult chaperone for youth groups. The camp backs up to a Presbyterian Church called Gulf Beach Presbyterian Church. The Presbytery that my dad works for is in the process of raising over $20 million to build a new camp on the Cahaba River closer to the churches in Alabama. As part of that process, Gulftreat has been sold to Gulf Beach Presbyterian and the presbytery is currently leasing the camp back from the church until the new camp in Alabama is built. So, the church down here owns the camp, but my dad runs it. This makes for a unique dynamic as both parties wanted to open the camp as a shelter for Katrina Victims.

All of that is a long way of saying that essentially the church (Gulf Beach) is running a shelter out of the camp (Gulftreat) that they own but that they have no experience of dealing with or running. The buildings are old and there are all sorts of things that need fixing and that is where I come in. My dad needed someone here that knows the camp and that can keep the camp programs in mind as decisions about changing the camp are made. So, essentially I am dealing with all of the things that are broken at the camp; hot water leaks, broken showers, broken toilets, broken A/C, broken refrigerator, broken sprinkler system, etc. I have become the 'handy man' and general contractor of the shelter. Tons of fun.

Anyways, most of the people who are staying here are from the New Orleans area. They are mostly blue collar, working class people and each of them is either actively looking for a job here in Panama City or is helping around the camp. These people have lost everything, but they are all motivated individuals who will survive and will get through this tragedy. Some of them were staying in hotels previously and either got kicked out for Holiday weekend reservations or were maxing out their credit cards. I haven't had much time to interact, but they are all very thankful for what we are doing and most of them are feeling thankful that they are alive. Their courage during this tragedy is amazing. I can only hope that if I ever have this kind of tragedy in my life that I can handle it with half as much courage and optimism.

More tomorrow, now it is sleepy time ...zzzzz

Distance makes the heart grow impatient

Well, it is almost over. Morgan is 2 days away from completing her 12 week internship. I knew this distance thing would be hard, but I don't think either one of us realized how hard it would really be. Morgan and I dated 'long distance' all through college, so I thought this would be a breeze. Boy was I wrong.

I guess once you get used to seeing someone everyday it is hard not to see them everyday. It is weird what you miss when someone is gone. You would think that you would sleep better when you have the whole bed to yourself, and I will admit, I did the first couple of nights. But then I got to where I wasn't sleeping well because I didn't have her cold feet near me. I miss arguing over what stupid show we are going to watch tonight or who gets to lay on the couch with their feet in the other's lap. I miss her smile and her frown. I miss her cooking and our conversations during dinner. I miss her eyes and her dumbo ears. I even miss her nagging. I guess I discovered this summer that I am not me without her. She completes me ("Mini-me, you complete. You had me at hello.").

Ok, enough of the mushy "Jerry Maguire" stuff. Anyways, I am flying down to Jacksonville in the morning to see Morgan. Her last internship duty is to preach on Sunday, then we will head to the beach for some much needed time together. We will be returning on Wednesday night. So, I fully expect all of you bloggers out there to update your blogs several times so that when I get back to work on Thursday I will have something to read.

Peace out A-Town,
Usher

Google your friends

So. I was at this SOS thing the other night (SOS stands for Spouses of Seminarians) and we started to talk about blogs. The SOS stuff is already better than it was last year, thanks to the new co-presidents. However, the only reason I go is to hangout with a bunch of hot, married, female spouses of seminarians (there aren't too many male spouses, which makes me a popular guy at the mostly all female events).

Anyways, I digress. As we were talking and sipping on our wayyyyyyy to expensive coffee (we were at a hip coffee bar named Java Monkey), we began discussing blogs. Julie said she had started a blog, but being a virgin blogger, she couldn't remember the URL to the blog. So of course this became a challenge to me to find her blog. Well, I can't find it, but I did find this instead: Julie and Davis' wedding pictures. So since I didn't find the blog, I thought I would share this with everyone. Maybe Julie will post her blog address as a comment responding to my post, then I will know how to find her blog.

Moral of the story: Google can find just about anything, so google your friends. It will make you chuckle.

Seacrest, out!

The Hamdog

Anyone who knows me will tell you that I am not one to be concerned with my health. Yes, it is true I have gained around 60 pounds since highschool and yes it is true I was once a sexy man with a 4-pack stomach (not quite a 6-pack). However in recent years I have become a little more fluffy. Ok, ok, ok, I am freaking fat. But it is things like the 'Hamdog' that keep me that way. I enjoy fried foods, read meat, chicken fingers, and all things potato. And even though I once played two sports in highschool, I can't motivate myself to consistently go to the gym.

So, what is the Hamdog, you ask. The Hamdog is a local celebrity. A bar in Oakhurst (Mulligan's) serves the Hamdog along with the Luther Burger and has recently made national press (and Jay Leno) for doing so.

Hamdog: "hot dog wrapped by a beef patty that's deep fried, covered with chili, cheese and onions and served on a hoagie bun. Oh yeah, it's also topped with a fried egg and two fistfuls of fries"

Luther Burger: "a bacon-cheeseburger served on a Krispy Kreme doughnut bun"

See this AP article for more information or you can search on google for 'Mulligans' and 'Hamdog' for all sorts of reviews on the fattening foods.

Anyways, back to the point of my post. My friend Stewart called and said his wife was out of town for the week and that he had heard about this place on Jay Leno and wanted to try it out but it sounded like a guy place (it is definitely a guy place since his wife said she would never go there), so we headed over there. After a Hamdog and fries and 2 pitchers of beer, I probably need bypass surgery, but this is not the point of my post. Tonight reminded me how important our friends are to us.

I feel so blessed to have had such a great group of friends before we moved to ATL. The hardest part about moving to me was leaving our friends. Then we got here and quickly made great friends. Had we not made such good friends when we moved, I probably would not have made it through the past 14 months, so I guess God knew what he/she (that is for you 'inclusive language seminary liberals') was doing by blessing me with friends here in Decatur. The great thing about good friends is that no matter how long it has been since you have seen them, you pick up right where you left off. And that is what Stewart and I did tonight. God has blessed me with great friends and although the Hamdog almost gave me a coronary, it reminded me how truly blessed I am.

So, to all of you out there who are my friends, thanks for being my friend even when I am jackass.

Love,
Frank

'The Frozen Chosen'

Ok, so this might hit a little close to home for some of us 'True Blue Presbyterians'. I am about as 'True Blue' as they come. My dad, my uncle, my grandfather, my great-grandfather, and my great great-grandfather all are Presbyterian Ministers. My wife AND my brother are in a Presbyterian seminary. Those are just in my immediate family. There are plenty other clergy in my lineage which would take too long to list here. I believe that God lives in Montreat and I believe that everything should be done decently and in order. So, please understand that I know what you Presbyterians are going to think when I suggest what I am about to suggest.

I went to church this morning (well actually it was this afternoon at the 1 PM service) at Buckhead Church. Buckhead Church is what they call a 'satellite' campus of North Point Ministries. Their mission is to "lead people into a growing relationship with Jesus Christ. We accomplish this by creating irresistible environments led by skilled staff and volunteers." And let me tell you, they have perfected it.

At first glance, this church seems to be an evangelical organization that accomplishes its mission using 'Christo-tainment'. They have lights and video screens and a hi-definition video playback of the sermon. There is a band with 3 guitars, 2 vocalists, a drummer, a keyboard player, and a percussionist. The sound system rivals that of the Georgia Dome. Before the service begins they even have announcements running on the screens like they do at the movie theaters. If you close your eyes long enough, you can almost smell popcorn (j/k).

However, after sitting through the entire service I have a different perspective. What they have accomplished at North Point Ministries is they have figured out that the church most evolve to keep up with the people. They have figured out what people in the year 2005 want in a church and they are doing it. Now, I am no theologian (that is why I am supporting my wife in seminary instead of attending seminary myself) and I am sure there are some issues with their theology that just weren't apparent to me in the 1 service I attended, but they are making disciples of people while the 'Frozen Chosen' is cutting programs.

I believe that we (this 'we' being the PCUSA 'we') need to take a closer look at how we do church. Look around and tell me what part of our church seems successful right now. Some of you may say 'no part'. I may be biased because I am so deep rooted in the youth part of our church, but I believe that the youth programs of our denomination are the most successful parts of our church. So, if we are bringing so many youth to places like Ghost Ranch, Montreat, and Triennium, why is it that the number of members is dwindling?

I suggest it is because we do great worship services at those places and then these youth come back to their churches after college and it is like they have traveled back to the 1820s when TVs didn't exist and especially things like 'sound boards' and 'powerpoint' and 'praise bands' weren't in worship. Now, I am not suggesting that we put a powerpoint screen in every sanctuary, nor am I suggesting that a traditional service is bad. What I am suggesting is that we (again the PCUSA 'we') should be building some churches like Buckhead Church in big cities and give this new style of church a try. We can even preach our own reformed theology and have umpteen committee meetings if we want. What we cannot afford to do as a denomination is stand by and watch as our members die and do nothing about it. God called us to be fishermen of people. He didn't tell us that it had to be in a sanctuary with an organ and stained glass with a person in a robe reciting creeds that no one really understands. He simply said go make disciples. We should do that anyway we can.

Honda Accord LX

Morgan and I purchased a new vehicle this past weekend. Yep, you guessed it. It is a Honda Accord LX (how did you figure it out?). I currently have a Ford Explorer and Morgan currently has a VW Passat. We have been leasing the Passat for the past 42 months and I will never do that again. The Passat's lease is up in a few weeks, so while Morgan was home this past weekend, we went and purchased the Accord.

All in all, we had a pretty pleasant experience, but I have been through the dealership buying/leasing thing a couple times before and so I feel pretty comfortable doing that whole negotiating thing. However, that doesn't make me like it anymore. Why is buying a car sooooooooo difficult. Why can't a car be like everything else we buy? Why can't they just put the price on the car?

The dealership in Hoover that I leased my first Explorer from and am currently buying my second Explorer from, had the prices on the windows and didn't haggle. It was so much easier. The salesman were still paid in commission, but it was $150/car sold regardless of if it was a $60K or $10K car. They dealt in volume. So, it was easier because you knew what you were buying and how much it would cost, but they still pressured you into buying quick and probably before you were comfortable.

The dealership here (Curry Honda, for those who care) does haggle and it is not a fun thing to do. I had to play the other dealerships against them and show them proof of what others were paying (thank you Edmunds.com). The salesman was polite, but I never believed a word he said.

So, why is it like this?

If it's in the game...

It's in the game!!!

Yes, I made an impulse purchase tonight. Morgan probably will try and make me feel bad about it and tell me how she never buys anything (which is just not true), but the truth of the matter is that I have been home alone all summer and I need something to help me get through the lonely nights (Not PORN, for the perverts out there). I have purchased NCAA Football 2006 for the XBOX and it is sooooooooo worth the money. I have been playing it since I purchased it just 3 hours ago and I am so ready for football season to begin.

So, if you are itching for the best season of the year to start, come join me on the XBOX and we can have some good ole fashioned gridiron battles.

War Damn Eagle,

Robert

PS- Only 45 more days until the National Champion 13-0 Auburn Tigers take the field against the ACC team from Atlanta...

My $Million Idea Slogan

See post below ('My Million $ Idea') for more information about my company idea.

But here is my slogan for the company:

'Changing the world, one bottle of water at a time.'

Peace Out,

Captain Agua

My Million $ Idea

I have been working in Corporate America long enough to know that everyone thinks they could retire if they had just one million dollar idea. Like the guy who invented the post-it notes, I bet he ain't still working. Or the guy back in the 80's who invented the Sticky Wall Walkers. The only thing that guy is doing now is getting interviewed by VH1 for 'I love the 80's' episodes. And there are a lot of days that the idea of retiring sounds like a good one.

Peter Gibbons: What would you do if you had a million dollars?
Lawrence: I'll tell you what I'd do, man, two chicks at the same time, man.
Peter Gibbons: That's it? If you had a million dollars, you'd do two chicks at the same time?
Lawrence: Damn straight. I always wanted to do that, man. And I think if I had a million dollars I could hook that up, cause chicks dig a dude with money.
Peter Gibbons: Well, not all chicks.
Lawrence: Well the kind of chicks that'd double up on a dude like me do.
Peter Gibbons: Good point.
Lawrence: Well what about you now? what would you do?
Peter Gibbons: Besides two chicks at the same time?
Lawrence: Well yeah.
Peter Gibbons: Nothing.
Lawrence: Nothing, huh?
Peter Gibbons: I'd relax, I would sit on my ass all day, I would do nothing.
Lawrence: Well you don't need a million dollars to do nothing, man. Just take a look at my cousin, he's broke, don't do shit.

Although I love "Office Space" (mostly because it is exactly what my office is like) and although this is one of my favorite exchanges in the movie, I don't think I would do two chicks at the same time or do absolutely nothing if I had a million dollars. I have always thought that if I were rich enough to not work, that I would be rich enough to start a foundation to give money away. I dream of being a philanthropist. So, what is my million dollar idea that will allow me to be a philanthropist?

An idea came to me several months back as I was drinking a glass of water late at night right before I went to bed (that is my nightly ritual). As I finished the glass, I said to Morgan, as I do often "God knew what he was doing when he created water." I say it so often that Morgan just kind of ignored me as she does often when I say things over and over (like she does when I tell her my joke about the town of Roswell being renamed-Ask me later and I will tell you). It hit me that moment that we Americans spend an awful lot of money on bottled water when we have perfectly safe water coming out of our taps. We are 'Water Snobs'! We buy water for an average of $1.19 a 24 oz bottle at the QwikEMart and lots of time we don't even finish the bottle. I think of that scene from the "Three Amigos" when the amigos are riding on camels across the desert and Lucky Day and Ned are dying of thirst. Ned even has sand coming out of his water bottle instead of water, all the while Dusty has so much water that he gurgles his throat and spits it out and then throws an almost full canteen of water onto the ground. We Americans are like Dusty with Bottled Water while the rest of the under-developed world is like Ned and Lucky Day just hoping someone will give them a drop.

I thought a little more about it and realized that maybe there was a way to let us Americans be 'Water Snobs' while at the same time helping the people of the world. So here is my million dollar idea. A bottled water company named 'Living Water' that sells water at the same price as Aquafina and Dasani, however ALL PROFITS from the company go to the Living Water Foundation which is a non-profit that spends all of its money helping to get clean water to people who need it. The Living Water Corporation would be a profitable company whose only mission would be to give all profits to the Living Water Foundation. No 7 figure salary CEO and no stockholders to make money for. Just a corporation who uses Capitalism to make a difference in the world.

So, what do you think?

Dude, I'm tired

So, it has been a while since my last post. Previously on 24 (man, i want to be Jack Bauer) I had a great week at the Montreat West Conference. The on-stage leadership (Maggi Henderson, Steve Wild, Beth Watson, and Meg and Jarrett Mclaughlin) were awesome. From a visual standpoint, all of my powerpoint and video clips went great. I made some new friends and got to know some old friends better. I even had discussions with some people about my life journey. All in all, it was a great conference and a great week.

Saturday morning I woke up and hung out with people as they waited for their airport shuttle. Finally we left. Once we got to the airport, we were officially 'OFF COVENANT', so me and a few others (not to be named in order to preserve they identity) had a few beers at the airport bar. We boarded our flights and headed home. After a week of averaging 4.5 hours of sleep each night, all I wanted to do was get home and crawl in my bed. When I finally arrived home, my parents and my brother were there. My brother just started Columbia Seminary, so they were at my house for the night because they had been moving him into the dorm room. So, I had to play nice with them and didn't get into bed until around 12:30 AM. I tried to sleep in, but I just couldn't sleep (besides, Miller had to go to the bathroom and he started doing the pee pee dance in my bedroom) so I got up and spent the day helping my brother move into his dorm room.

I was going to call it quits at about 6 and take a shower and chill finally when out of nowhere Morgan appeared. I was overjoyed to see her. She made a surprise trip home because she missed me and I really missed her. It was great that she came home. So we spent Sunday night and all day Monday catching up. Needless to say, I didn't get the rest I desired, but seeing Morgan was worth the sacrifice. I'll sleep in next weekend. WRONG.

Of course Tuesday came around (Monday was the 4th of July so it was holiday) and I had to go to work. Morgan headed back to Jacksonville. Now everyone knows that vacation is actually a catch 22. You do get time off, but that doesn't mean you aren't responsible for the work. So, as usual, I spent the entire week trying to catch up at work after being gone for over a week. Meanwhile I am in charge of planning a Braves game outing for 300 people for my company. Now, since it is work-related, you would think that would count as work. NOPE, I have to do that on my own time. I hate corporate america. So I spend my week catching up and trying to make sure all of the loose ends for the braves game outing are tied up.

Then comes Friday night. The 2nd annual 'Greek Week 1 Keg Party' at mi casa. We hosted this party last year and had a great time, so I told my brother we would host it again. This new class of seminarians sure knows how to party. Last year we didn't even come close to floating the keg. This year we floated the keg at around 11:15pm. Those future preachers know how to party. Peppermint Patty shots and Flaming Dr. Peppers and a couple of Jack and Waters and I was in the perfect frame of mind to go to Waffle House at 2 AM. So, me, Tom and Ashley, Ryan and Amy, and Steve (Tom's brother) headed to the Waffle House and had a great time. Long story short, I crawled into bed around 2:45 AM and Morgan claims I called her around 3 AM (I have no recollection of that and cannot be held responsible in a court of law for anything Jack Daniels made me say).

So, I can sleep in now, right? NOPE. I got up Saturday AM and cleaned up my fraternity house and took care of some more loose ends for the braves game. Then me and my brother headed to Turner field to start setting up for the outing at around 2:45 PM. Game started at 7 and the tailgate (with a caterer cooking burgers, dogs, sausage, etc and 3 kegs of beer) started at 5. Since I am in charge of this shindig for 300 people (my coworkers from ATL and BHAM and their families) I have to make sure everything gets packed away before I go to the game. I finally made it into the stadium during the 6th inning. I was soaking wet (from the rain) and probably not walking straight (from standing too close to the kegs). When it was all said and done, I was showered and in bed by around 1:00 AM. The Braves lost, by the way.

God rested on the sabbath and today is my sabbath. I have done absolutley nothing today other than eat lunch, lay on the couch, and watch hurricane coverage and I Love the 80s (great mix of funny and dramatic).

Peace Out A-town,

Your friendly neighborhood party planner

Montreat West

Just a quick post from Colorado State University in Ft Collins, CO where I am shadowing the planning team (cause I am on next year's planning team) and running the powerpoint and a/v stuff for the conference.

The weather is hot but there is very little humidity so it is comfortable. Everyone here is so nice and things are going so smooth thus far. The conference starts tomorrow afternoon and I am sure it will be a whole different level of excitement when all the youth are here.

Thursday was quite a long day. I worked a full day and then rode Marta from Dunwoody to the airport. I caught my flight to Denver (which of course was running late). Once I arrived in Denver I then had to catch a shuttle to Ft Collins. When I got to the dorm, it was 12:15 Moutain time (2:15 AM eastern time to me). The lady at the front desk couldn't hear me banging on the door and the only phone number I had, no one was answering. I finally broke in (climbed in an open window). Then I went to find my room and my roommate was already asleep. He didn't know I was coming that night, so he had stuff all over my bed so I had to turn the light on, which woke him up, make the bed, brush my teeth and then climb into bed. I quickly realized there was no A/C, so I lay there trying to think cool thoughts. We got a fan on Friday and it made it sooooo much cooler.

I really love being here. This is the kind of stuff I most enjoy doing. I feel like this is what I am supposed to do with my life. The theme for the conference is 'Called by name'. Maybe I will hear God saying my name this week.

Love,

Frank

Now they know...

I have been miserable for the last few years while I have been trying to hear God's calling. At first, only Morgan knew about my struggles. After we moved to Decatur, most of our new found friends learned of my struggle. I got more and more frustrated and finally I went to see a funny farm specialist (that is what I call a counselor). Then I started this blog to help me in this struggle so many of you learned of it. Finally, after many teary conversations with my counselor, Morgan, and with God, it was time for me to face my dad.

This may sound cliche, but I honestly was worried that by telling my dad that I hated my very successful job that I would in some way be letting him down. My dad should understand, more than anyone, because he quit his successful job and brought me and my mom and my brother to the village apartments so he could follow his calling just 24 years ago. However, I think it was the fact that he had done this that scared me most.

All my life, as most kids do, I have strived to make my parents proud of me. Deep inside I know that they could not be prouder of me, but for some unexplainable reason, I still have that childish need to please them. My dad calls it the 'first born curse'. That my role in our family is to please everyone, no matter the sacrifices I make for myself. Now, don't get me wrong, I don't believe I 'sacrificed' anything, but I know that my dad isn't too far off in his psychological analysis of my behavior. I always have and still do try my hardest to make my family proud of me. Further, I go out of my way to 'not rock the boat' and to try and make everything easier on everyone else but me. I believe it is one of my many gifts. I have always enjoyed, not only with my family but also with my friends, being the person who does the organizing and logistics so that no one else has to worry with it. In college, I was treasurer of my fraternity and I gained the most satisfaction from standing at the back of a band party and watching everyone have a good time at the best band party on campus partly because I had been so fiscally efficient. I am normally the person who organizes family logistics at holidays. Most recently I even planned the spring break trip for all of our friends to Montreat. It is in my nature; 'First born curse' or is it a gift.

Anyways, I digress. So, I was at a breaking point and I could barely function I was so caught up in trying to discern Gods path for me. And to top it all off, I was scared to talk to my dad about it. Finally, last Tuesday I sent him an email (several pages long) highlighting (or lowlighting depending on if you are half-glass full or half-empty kind of guy) my past few years and what I have been struggling with. I spoke of how hard a struggle it was to leave a good JOB to do something GOOD as a job. I then asked him to email that he received the email and to tell me a good time that we could chat that night so I could call him. I emailed him first because I wanted him to have time to think and digest before just saying the first thing out of his mouth or, even worse, not saying anything at all. When I told my parents I wanted to ask Morgan to marry me, my dad was silent and couldn't speak. Also, when we told my parents that we were moving to Decatur so Morgan could attend seminary, neither of my parents could speak. At the time, I felt as though their silence was disappointment. I later learned that it just caught them off guard and that they needed time to digest these 'life changing' events. My parents love Morgan (sometimes I think more than me, j/k) and they absolutely know that Columbia was the right thing for Morgan. So, the email was to give my dad some time to digest so that I didn't hear silence on the other end of the phone.

That night I talked to my dad, and he quickly took control of the conversation. Surprisingly to me, he knew that I had been struggling with this and he knew that the day would come when I would decide to do something different in my life. He was fully supportive and loving and proud. That phone call has gotten me through the last week and it might keep me going for some while now. Most of the things he said, I had already come to on my own, but the one thing I knew already but was ignoring whole-heartedly was that no matter how hard I prayed and how hard I tried to listen to God, whatever it is that is supposed to happen will NOT happen on my time, but will happen on GOD's time. I know this, yet my 2 years of struggling and impatience had gotten the better of me. I wanted to know NOW! I wanted Morgan to go to Jacksonville and for me to have some alone time with God and for God to tell me NOW what it was that I am supposed to do. I wanted it on my time and now I know I must continue to wait and probably at the moment I least expect is when God is going to sneak up on me from behind and whisper in my ear.

So, what is the moral of this story? Look both ways before you cross the street.

Sorry, that is the punch line to my 'Purple Passion' joke. If you ever care to hear it, get a few beers in me (and you if you want to find it funny) and I will be happy to tell it.

The moral is two fold: 1)Your parents love you and will support you, but you won't know that unless you talk to them. 2)Your time is NOT God's time, so be patient, pray, and enjoy the life you have been given.

Peace Out,

Wormser

PS- 'I didn't say she was crazy, I said she was...'

Am I scared?

Am I scared? What is it that I am scared of? Why can't I make the leap? I tell myself that it is because I haven't heard what leap to make. Maybe I have heard it and I have just ignored it. Maybe it isn't time for me to hear it yet. Maybe all of this pain and sadness is going to make that leap even better when I figure out what leap I am supposed to make. I still have faith that God has a plan for me, but it gets harder every day. I know God has a place for me to go. I am standing here with the car packed and full of gas. I just need a map. Actually, I just need a destination.

Lord, my life is yours. Use me.

What a day!

Well, my day started off just how I had planned it. I got up, went to the Y and worked out. When I got home, I made myself a sandwich and ate lunch. I then took Miller on a walk and then put him on the porch so I could start cleaning.

My mom is coming into town tomorrow, so I was trying to get the house all clean and get all of my laundry done before she got here. I started laundry and cleaned the den. I unloaded the dishwasher and cleaned the kitchen. I cleaned the bathrooms and cleaned the bedrooms and the living room. All I had left to do was put my brother's computer in the attic and put the sheets I had just washed on my bed and the bed my mom was going to sleep in. Then I was going to get in the shower and start workin on my resume and a cover letter for a job I want to apply for.

So, I am minutes away from finishing and pick Kevin's old computer up and head into the attic. I take the monitor first; no problem. I come back for the tower and then head up the ladder with the tower. Once I get into the attic, I begin to hold the tower with my hand inside the tower in the hole where the power supply used to be. I begin to walk over to the area where I am going to store the tower and my day takes a turn for the worse.

WHAM!!!!! My foot kicks a piece of ply wood and all of the sudden my foot goes into a hole and through the insulation and through the drywall. SHIT!!!!! I am laying on my side with my foot dangling through the huge hole I have just put through the ceiling when I notice that there is a lot of blood on my hand. Then I realize that my hand hurts. I sliced a 2 inch gash in my right index finger on the sheet metal on the back of the computer. Blood is gushing, so I put pressure on it and run down the ladder and start to go into the bathroom. WAIT, I just cleaned the bathroom, go into the kitchen. But, the attic stairs are in the way, so I lift them out of the way and begin to drip blood on the hardwood floors and finally make it to the kitchen sink.

At this point I am beginning to shake and feel light headed. I run coldwater over it and see the huge gash. This doesn't help my shakes or light-headedness. I grab some paper towels and wrap up my fingers and grab my cell phone. I call Ryan on his cell and home numbers. No answer, what a jerk (he makes up for it later). I calm down enough to realize that I can probably drive myself to the doctor. So I grab my keys and wallet and start out the door. WAIT, there is blood on the floor and the radio is on and I have zit medicine all over my face because I have 2 huge zits that wont go away (I am 27, when will the zits stop!!!!). So, I go wipe up the blood on the floor, turn off the radio, and wash my face to get the zit medicine off. I feel a little bit better abut my appearance now that the zit medicine is gone although I am sweating like a dog and wearing gym shorts and the same t-shirt I worked out in. I smelled pretty good.

So I head to the Doc-in-a-box near the Kroger. On my way I leave Morgan a voicemail letting her know that I am on my way to get stitches. I pull into the Doc-in-a-box and the sign says they are open to 6 on Sundays. Maybe my luck is changing, it is only 3:50. I park and head to the door and as I get closer I realize that it looks dark inside. Then I see the hand-written note that is taped inside the door that says they had to close early today, sorry. DAMNIT, this means I have to go to the ER.

Dekalb Medical is just around the corner so I go to the ER. ER's on the weekend are NOT the model of efficiency, but I think that I might get expedited because I am coming in with a bloody paper towel. WRONG!

I walk in and they ask me to fill out a form. Well, since I sliced the index finger on my writing hand I ask if they can fill it out. The nurse reluctantly agrees to. She gets my name and address and that is it.

I go sit down. It is 4:05. At 4:10 they call for 'Kay'. I assume it is me (Hay) and walk up to the counter. It was me that they were calling, but they had my name wrong. I explain to the nurse that it is H A Y and she says 'Well the form is wrong, it says K A Y' like I had filled it out wrong. So they tell me they have to fix it and reprint the form before they can triage me. They sit me down in the triage area and go back to the computer to fix it. She comes back a moment later with the form and shows it to me... KHAY. No, it is HAY. So, she goes back to the computer and reprints everything and brings it back to me...KAY. No, it is Hay, H A Y like for horses. Do you want to see my drivers license? They finally get it right and they take my temperature and blood pressure. The nurse removes the paper towel from my finger and then covers it back up with my paper towel and then hands the paperwork to me and tells me to go down the hall to FASTRACK.

Yeehaw, I am getting Fastracked. That must mean it will go fast. WRONG again. I get to Fastrack and hand the nurse my paperwork and she looks at the cut and then covers it up with the papertowel that I came in with again and then asks me to sit in the waiting room.

It is now 4:15. I sit and sit and sit. I hear a lady threaten to kick her kids asses if they misbehave once again. Then a lady with a baby that is crying comes into the waiting room. Finally the baby stops crying. Then the kids that were threatened begin to argue and scream The lady with the baby politely asks them to be quiet because her baby is asleep and the baby hasn't been asleep for 3 days. Oh, no she didn't. The mother who threatened to kick her kids asses, then lays into the mother with the baby. 'Don't you tell my kids what to do...' It quickly turns into a welfare bitching session and both ladies are cussing at each other, the baby is now awake and crying and the kids are fighting and screaming. Calgon, take me away.

Finally the nurse calls my name. It is 5:20. She takes me into a room and gets more information from me, my insurance card, my credit card, and my drivers license. She then sends me back to the waiting area. About ten minutes later she comes back out to me and asks me to sign my credit card slip and my consent form. Then she hands me a sheet of paper that says my name and patient number and says 'Admission process completed'. Are you kidding me? I have been in the ER for over 1.5 hours and all I have to show for it is a sheet of paper that says all my paperwork is complete.

Another hour goes by and I watch more and more people come and go. ER waiting rooms are an interesting place to watch people. At 6:30 they call me back. A numb finger with 8 stitches and 30 minutes later and I am finally walking out of the ER with Ryan (Ryan showed up right after I got called back and sat in there while I got stitched up. Told you he made it up to me.).

Ryan and I head to the pharmacy to get some supplies (bandages and such) and then to BK so I can get a whopper for dinner. I eat the whopper while Ryan takes Miller on a quick walk. Then Ryan helps me duct tape the sheetrook back in place and helps me sweep up. At some point in the cleaning up process, I go to throw something away and realize that there is pipe leaking under the sink. Ryan graciously cleans up the water and fixes the pipe and helps me clean up the drywall mess then he heads home (Thanks again Ryan for all of your help!!!).

I then finish vacuming and straightening the house and am about to get in the shower when the drywall tape jop falls apart. I cut all the drywall down and then clean the floor again. I take a shower (with a glove taped over my right hand) and then finish folding the laundry and put the sheets on my bed so I can go to sleep (my mom is going to have to put her own sheets on tomorrow).

So that was my day. It is very hard to type without using my right index finger, but I am figuring it out and the pain is worth getting all of this onto my blog.

A couple of questions to ponder:

I have never been one to ask 'why do bad things happen to good people?' but this is one of those days when I wonder that. I normally stop wondering that real quick and begin to focus on the opposite of that question 'why do good things happen to bad people?'

And was my falling through the ceiling God's way of telling me to not apply for this job?

Things that make you go hmmmmmm....

Work, so confusing

So, here I am trying to ask God to tell me what it is I am supposed to do with my life. I pray every night for God to open my eyes so I can see the path that God wants me to follow. I do this because I am so miserable in my job. I am not fulfilled and it is not rewarding.

Then things happen at work happen as they happened today. I essentially was rewarded once again for my hard work. Ever since I started working for my company, I have been constantly rewarded, recognized, promoted, and compensated. Why is it that I am so miserable in a job I am obviously so good at? Why do I want to quit a company where I have been very successful and have a bright future?

Maybe I am supposed to continue working for my company. They do pay me well, rely on me, and recognize me. I have flexible work hours and working conditions. I get at least 3 weeks of vacation every year and most years I take closer to 4 weeks with my comp time (overtime). With all of my vacation and flexible hours, it has allowed me to do the volunteer conference work that I want to do on my vacation. But is that enough?

My best week each year for the past 3 years (would be 4 years but my best week 4 years ago was my honeymoon) has been the week I have volunteered at the Montreat/PYC 3 middle school conference. I haven't really done anything super important at those conferences (i just run AV equipment), but that week really makes me happy. Why can't I have that happiness for 52 weeks a year instead of 1 or 2 weeks?

So, my confusion continues. Do I continue to work a job that I am very successful in but hate just because it affords me the ability to volunteer 1 or 2 weeks each year AND still have vacation time? or Do I try and find a way to have that 1 or 2 week feeling of happiness for more of the year? I think the answer is not what I want, but what God wants for me.

So, God, the ball is in your court. I can be reached by email, voicemail, or through the words and works of others (although, email is the easiest way to reach me).

My little jar

My wonderful wife Morgan mailed me a copy of a sermon by Anna Carter Florence that she thought I might want to read. Last night I could not fall asleep (which is part of my nightly ritual of tossing and turning as I think about and ponder what it is that God wants me to do with my life) so I read the sermon. Tonight I am pondering the same thing so I am going to blog about the sermon.

The sermon is on the text where the woman pours perfume on Jesus. Anna Carter goes on to describe that the perfume, that was kept in a little jar, was very expensive perfume that, in those days, would be used for when the lady died. It was her little jar of death perfume. She smashed her burial perfume jar and poured the perfume on Jesus in an act of selflessness and an act of faith. With her act she was giving everything to Jesus, even the perfume that was to be used at her burial that she had been keeping in a little jar.

Anna Carter continues by challenging us to think about the things we put into jars. The thoughts and the burdens we put into jars because we can't deal with them. The feelings we ignore and the dreams we brush off that we put in jars on shelves that are slowly killing us. The little jars that cause us to toss and turn at night. She charges us to take those little jars of death and pulverize them and offer their contents to God.

I wonder what is in my little jar. Is it my job? Is it my desire to do something more meaningful than IT Consulting for a profitable company? Is it my desire to see people happy in the fellowship of God? What is it that I am putting in the jar? I prayed to God last night for him to give me the strength to smash that jar even though I am not sure what is in it, but I am positive that I have that jar and I am sure that it is what has been causing me so much pain.

And the Quest continues...

It's Tuesday but it feels like Monday

I find myself walking to meetings real slow and lethargic. I sit at my computer and try to think of things to surf on the internet instead of doing my work. I go to meetings and sit there and think about why the meeting is useless. I have work to do, but I know I can do it later and still receive fantastic reviews, so I procrastinate. Especially after last week when I worked my ass off. I have become apathetic about my job and I just don't care that I don't care.

'Sounds like somebody's got a case of the Mondays' (except it is Tuesday and I will probably feel like this again tomorrow since I dread my job)

My relaxing weekend

Well, this weekend was supposed to be a weekend for me to relax and get my mind right so I could focus on the Quest. So, on Friday night I was on my way home from work and my brother called and wanted to know if he could come visit for the weekend. He was supposed to go to Memphis to see some friends, but that fell through and he said he really needed to get out of the house (my parent's house - he still lives there). Being the wonderful big brother that I am, I of course told him to come on over.

It ended up being a great weekend and I still got accomplished some of the things I wanted to get accomplished. I cut the grass and got my haircut on Saturday morning. Then we went and played golf on Saturday afternoon. Found a great rate on LMTT.com, so if you are ever looking for a last minute tee time, check it out. We went to dinner at Taco Mac and then watched Star Wars Episode II.

Sunday, we were planning on going to the Braves game, but it was raining so we decided to go to the Georgia Force arena football game. We hopped on Marta and were planning on buying $19 tickets at the ticket office, but a scalper offered us VIP tickets for $25. Being the suckers that we are, we bought 'em. They ended up being Suite Tickets. So we sat in a suite. It was very nice.

Let me pause my story while I get on my soapbox for a moment. So, we rode the elevator up to the entrance of the Phillips arena and there are security guards checking people as they go into the game. They have baskets and are asking everyone to empty their pockets into the baskets. Not thinking anything of it, I grab my cell phone, keys, and wallet and throw them in the basket. The security guard quickly tells me that I can't go in with 'that'. What? My keychain Swiss Army Knife? My 1.5 inch knife? My keychain accessory that I use for the toothpick more than I use it for anything because the blade on the knife is too small to even cut a straggling string off my pants? I can't take 'that' in? Have we gotten so scared as a society that we think terrorists are going to take over the Arena Football game with a 1.5 inch Swiss Army Knife? So my brother and I had to hide our keychain knives in the pinestraw near the entrance so that we didn't have to throw them away to go into the arena. Stupid!!!

Back to my weekend, we had a great time at the football game. It is quite an experience. There was never a moment of calmness. When the game wasn't being played there was either a fan competition, the dance team dancing in sexy clothes (very nice), fireworks, or army rangers rappeling from the ceiling throwing t-shirts to the fans. They really have something great going on down there. Need to remember to go to some more games next season.

Another funny moment occured at the game. During a time out, the big screen did 'kiss cam' where the cameras look around the arena for couples and the couples kiss while they are on the Big Screen. Well, after several couples had done this, the screen showed an old couple. And wouldn't you know, it was Jimmy Scarr and his wife. They of course saw themselves on the screen, but just didn't get the concept of having to kiss each other, so they sat there like old people looking like silly old people. The fans even started chanting 'kiss kiss kiss' and they still didn't get it. The man sitting behind them even tapped Jimmy on the shoulder and told him they were supposed to kiss and they still didn't get it. Of all places to see Jimmy Scarr. He hasn't changed a bit.

After the game, Kevin wanted to see Star Wars Episode III so that is what we did. It was even better the second time and I caught some things this time that I didn't the first time. Kevin got up this morning and left around lunch time. I messed with my computer (put Kevin's old hard drive in it so he can recover his data the next time he comes) and rearranged all of my entertainment system stuff.

So, it wasn't the relaxing weekend I was expecting, but it ended up being a great weekend. Kevin and I had a great time together, and when you get a few beers in us we will even talk about stuff more important than Auburn Football (although there isn't much stuff more important than that). I am very lucky to have a brother that I can hang out with. I hope that Kevin and I will get to be better friends the next couple of years while he is here for seminary. There is a level to Kevin that I see every now and then that I hope he can learn to share more often and with everyone, not just a few people. He really truly cares for people, he just has a hard time showing it. He still has his moments of stubborness, but they are fewer than before.

Well, maybe I can relax next weekend. Or maybe someone else will come visit and make me have a good time.

Introductions

Since I am such a big tech nerd, I am sure it comes as a surprise to you that I have never 'blogged' before. So, I am still trying to figure out how this stuff works. I guess I write things here and you read them. That leads me to my first question; who is my audience? Who are 'you'? Who am I writing to? I guess it doesn't matter. I am not doing this for you. I am doing this for me.

So, you may ask, what is the Quest all about? Well, this is my Quest to determine what my purpose in life is. See, for a long time now, I have been struggling with what it is that I am supposed to do with my life. I am currently in a good job, that pays me well, that gives me lots of vacation and flexibility, and furthermore, I am good at it. So now you are thinking, what does this guy have to complain about? I am finally starting to realize that there is more to life than a good job. I want to do something more fulfiling with my life. Further, I believe that God has a plan for me and that God has been trying to tell me what that plan is and I have been ignoring it or not listening. So, this Quest is about me trying to sort through my thoughts and maybe, hopefully, I will hear whatever it is that God is trying to tell me.

This is my Quest. I hope you enjoy reading and following along. I just hope and pray that I will hear God soon. For the longest time I thought maybe God wasn't speaking to me. I am now realizing that I have been too busy to listen.

'Open my ears'