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.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
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?
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?
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
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...
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...
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
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
But here is my slogan for the company:
'Changing the world, one bottle of water at a time.'
Peace Out,
Captain Agua
Monday, July 11, 2005
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?
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?
Sunday, July 10, 2005
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
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
Saturday, June 25, 2005
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
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
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
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...'
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...'
Thursday, June 09, 2005
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.
Lord, my life is yours. Use me.
Sunday, June 05, 2005
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....
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....
Thursday, June 02, 2005
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).
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).
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
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...
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)
'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)
Monday, May 30, 2005
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.
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.
Friday, May 27, 2005
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'
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'
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