Minutes to Memories

I guess all the money in the world could buy access to the greatest concerts and the greatest sporting events, maybe even access to the stars, too. And I suspect access to lots of money could allow one to travel to the most exotic places and witness firsthand the most breathtaking tourist spots on earth.

But I don’t think wealth grants one access to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at children’s hospitals, and I’m convinced the rare folks that make it behind those closed doors come face to face with the most awe-inspiring sights in the universe.

Today, once again, I consider myself one of the luckiest men on the face of the earth.

Shawn & Danielle named their tiny son, Dawson, and he is unbelievable. I think on his birth day he seemed bigger in person than I expected, but today I caught the full force of how tiny he really is. He was born weighing in at 1 lb, 15 oz, but as is normal for preemies, he has lost some of his liquid weight to allow his little body to start putting on muscle. At today’s weighing, he tipped the scales at 1 lb and 12 oz. The next time you pick up a 28oz bottle of water, consider this miracle.

And miracle is what pediatrician/elder/cousin-of-Dawson-twice removed, Dave, is calling him. The doctors confirmed that Danielle really was at 26 weeks when Dawson was born, and Dave says that how good he is doing defies science. He is what the scientific community uses the fancy word “miracle” to describe.

Today was the first day Danielle was to be going back and forth between the hospital and the Ronald McDonald House alone (since both mom and husband have had to go back to work in between hospital stays), so I was glad I picked today to go and visit. I got a tour of the Ronald McDonald House (an amazing place) as well as take Danielle out to lunch at Ruby Tuesday’s (an amazing salad bar). Sandwiched in-between I came face-to-face once again with a miracle.

The pictures don’t come close to communicating the sight. Nor do words. Some things are just too much for us to describe.

This is mystery. Miracle. God.

Byron Smith (aka Chachi) smiles for the camera while his lovely wife, Jessica, looks on. "Chachi" came to our Peak of the Week Class tonight to deliver a presentation on the Gulf Coast Bible Camp, and he did an excellent job. It is always neat to hear someone speak about something for which they have a passion.

It made me remember that night long ago when I was nine years old, and I sat watching an electrical storm in the distance during the cliff devotional at the Crowley's Ridge Youth Camp. I think we were singing, "Have You Seen Jesus My Lord?", and even though I'm not much into warm fuzzy feelings, there was something about that moment that made me decide that I would be following God with my life. And, give or take moments here and there along the way, that is what I have tried to do ever since.

I discreetly pulled out my camera after climbing in my car, turned off the flash, and snapped a picture of Carolyn as she went back to her daily work without her knowing. I did not want her to think she was some sort of display, but after our conversation, I also did not want to forget.

I go to Biloxi every couple of weeks to visit my friend, Hezekiah, in the nursing home. Hezekiah is a disabled black man in his late 60s – disabled both mentally and physically – and Hezekiah is a hoot. He spends his days coloring in magazines and listening to his radio, with occasional interruptions for his harmonica and smoking breaks. He generally cheers me up when I visit, and today was no exception. We talked about Christmas approaching, and he renewed his constant desire for a “jew harp.” I have no idea what he is talking about. Oh, I know what a “Jew’s harp” is – actually bought one once upon a time for Hezekiah, but when he saw it he didn’t have a clue what I had given him. So who knows… In addition, he’s interested in a football this year, too. One he could kick. The nurses will love that…

I also visited with Mr. Flowers on the way in and on the way out. He cheers me up, too. He also sits in a wheelchair, but he has a lot more going on upstairs than Hezekiah. He always wants me to say a prayer for him, something I’m glad to do. Today was no exception.

When I made it back to my car today, there was a lady working hard in the nursing home yard, picking up trash, and piling up pinecones. As is normal for me, I said something to catch her attention – “You’ve got a never-ending job, don’t you?” I said as I began to step into my car. She responded as I put one foot in, and this unleashed a 20-minute conversation in that position.

I learned a lot about Carolyn while I stood there, and I’m glad I did. She walks around with her body a bit hunched and noticeably leaning to one side. This was explained when she informed me that her ex-husband had taken out a lot of life insurance on her and then threw her out of a moving pickup truck. She lost one of her ears on the fall.

But she thanks God that she’s alive today.

Carolyn has five children, all adults now. They come and visit her every now and then at the nursing home, and she loves them dearly. If she could have one wish, she told me she’d live somewhere where she could see them every day.

But she thanks God that she was able to raise them.

Carolyn spends her days picking up trash and pinecones from the front yard of the nursing home. It is a never-ending job, but it is one she takes pride in. Her bedroom window faces this yard, and though Atkinson Road is a popular road for litter it seems, and although the trees continually shed themselves in this yard, it makes her feel so good to be able to clean it up enough to look out each morning and see it looking clean.

She thanks God that her health is such that she can spend her day picking up the trash.

And what was it again that I have to complain about?

I told Carolyn not to work too hard, and she told me she wouldn’t. She was about to take a break for a while, but when I left she took her bucket and went after a few more pieces of trash before sitting for a spell.

Carolyn is quite the metaphor for life I believe. All of us damaged creatures get up to face the world as seen through our bedroom window every morning. And if we could just have the blessing of being able to pick up the trash we see cluttering up our part of the world, and if we could just have enough breath and life to make it through that day, and if we have been able to touch a few lives along the way…

Then we have a lot to be thankful for.

I'm a huge Lemony Snicket fan. There, I said it.

It is strange to find oneself addicted to reading a set of children's books that relate a series of unfortunate events as experienced by three unlucky children, but it has become the truth. I just can't quit reading them. They are the crack-cocaine of children's literature, and I'm finding myself becoming a dealer. :-)

I made a special trip to the public library today to turn in the 7th book in the series, "The Vile Village," and of course I had to check out the 8th book, "The Hostile Hospital," while I was there. I'm on a roll.

If I remember correctly, my wife placed the first book - "The Bad Beginning" - in my Christmas stocking last year. I don't remember why I had the original interest in reading Lemony Snicket's work, but after the first book I know I was interested in reading the second. And then the third. And so on.

I found myself in a bit of a contest with my Hillary's best buddy, Connor, a contest I have been losing for a long time now. Snicket published the 13th (and final) story around Halloween, and I know Connor has been reading on that one. I'm only five books behind!

Hillary has found herself attached to the books, too. She just finished (as I was typing) the 5th book ("The Austere Academy" for those of you scoring at home), so she might end up passing me as well. Getting whipped by a pair of fourth graders. Oh well. Anything to get kids reading, right?

The stories are entertaining, but it is Snicket's writing style that has me hooked. He is downright hilarious, while at the same time creatively teaching kids the world of vocabulary (who am I kidding - did any of you adults know what ersatz meant? Me neither...). The fact that he tells very depressing stories are really beside the point - that is just his niche for bringing us into his world, teaching us the wonders of language, and making us laugh.

Okay, I've got to quit blogging. I have some reading to do.

It was quite a morning around the Ocean Springs Church of Christ, let me tell you...

It all began for me last night. We started using PowerPoint slides in our worship assembly a few months back, and our main slide guru called me around 9pm to inform me that he wouldn't be here this morning. Our backup slide guy is an elder/pediatrician who happened to be on call this morning. Our backup to the backup is our other elder, who is in Little Rock for Thanksgiving. The hits just keep coming, huh?

Well, the elder/pediatrician-on-call was there to run things this morning, while I crossed my fingers that he wouldn't be called to the hospital.

Then Miranda called ten minutes before worship began to tell me that her friend, Matt, wanted to be baptized this morning! This was great news, of course, but this would be our first baptism where we have to raise the projection screen and everything that comes along with that - so we scrambled to make sure we were ready for that...

It was at this point - two minutes past time to start our service - that I noticed that our deacon in charge of making sure people showed up to play their parts in the service did not show up for church today himself, and that about half of the folks who said they would serve didn't show up either.

Sigh...

But we started anyway, and everything went just fine (with the only exception being that the baptistery water was FREEZING cold, even though we installed a heater, but the man who installed the heater is the main slideshow guru guy, who was in Alabama).

Sigh again...

We had one other complication to work out at the end of the service. Pam, one of our friends/church family members, is moving to Dallas after about seven years living here. Pam has been through a lot in her life in those years, and today is her last Sunday with us before moving back close to her family. We are going to miss her a lot, and we hoped to make her farewell appropriate this morning.

When things like this occur, we have one of our elders pray over the individual along with giving a Scripture plate (from Mississippi Mud Works, pictured with Pam above). Of course, today, one of our elders was in Little Rock while the other was operating the slideshow while holding his beeper. Our plan was for he and I to switch out in the A/V booth during the last song, but thankfully, Keith stepped up to the plate and volunteered to finish out the service in the slideshow seat.

Worship is supposed to invigorate you, right?

But I'm exhausted.

My Sunday has been good, but I hope yours was good AND smooth.
:-)

Whaddaya think about this sweet ride? This is why all of you should follow my example and become a Saturn customer, too!

No, it's not mine, but I did get to ride around Baton Rouge in this sweet Saturn Sky with my friend, Roland, this morning. My family owns three Saturn vehicles (thanks to our friendship with Roland), and today was a convenient day for my (pretty much) once a year run to Baton Rouge to have the ION I drive looked over from top to bottom.

When my family moved to Ocean Springs in early 1999, we had the honor of meeting Roland. My youngest daughter, Hillary, was without a doubt a daddy's girl at the time (and still is, thank you very much!), and Roland was one of two men (along with Mr. Tandy) that she would even give the time of day to back then. We've all been Mr. Roland fans ever since, even though his move to Baton Rouge landed him 150 miles away.

The first time finances permitted us to even think about buying a new car we called Roland, and he took great pleasure in hooking us up with a Saturn. It's not just us, though: I've never seen anyone enjoy making other people happy as much as Roland. And over the years, he's made us happy on lots of occasions. (In addition to automobile matters and a great friendship, I've even enjoyed some LSU/Arkansas tickets, too!)

Not many people can say they look forward to the day they "get to" take their car in to the car dealership's service department, but that's completely the way I feel when I get to make the trip over to Baton Rouge. This morning, Roland took me for a spin in the new Saturn Sky, then we spent the morning talking as the friends we are, then finished the morning off with a Chick-Fil-A lunch.

Roland makes me feel important. I hope I'm not completely selfish in the relationship, though, because he is awfully important to my entire family.

It's been a great day for me, even if you didn't factor in the breathtaking weather.

'Twas the day after Thanksgiving, so it is time to decorate the Christmas tree around our house. I'm not real useful on days like this, unless that is, something needs to be done that my girls can't reach! But my wife & daughters enjoy doing this together - add in the "Holly" station on satellite radio and you'd just almost think it was snowing in South Mississippi.

No early morning shoppers from my family this morning. I did watch a lot of sports today, though, even though the Razorback football team was disappointing from my perspective. But it was a good game nonetheless. And although it wasn't nearly as significant, I did watch the Razorback basketball team win a pretty impressive game today.

The best part of the day, however, was the fact that Grandmother and Poppee made it to our house today. They will be here all weekend, which is always a good thing for us.

Hope everyone had a happy Thanksgiving!!!

I have much to be thankful for, but today I was particularly thankful for a certain house.

Tandy & Peggy have acted the part of parents to my wife and I (along with many others) since our folks live 500 miles away. On many an occasion, we've had the pleasure of sharing special times in their home. Which was one of the many reasons Katrina was so tragic.

When I wrote my Katrina journal, I wrote of Tandy and Peggy, specifically dreaming of a time when we would enjoy a special day in their home again.

That day I dreamed about was today.

We've shared Thanksgiving with the Shaws before, and on every occasion, Peggy has worked hard to get extra people there who would appreciate having somewhere to be for that special day. This year she went even further, issuing a special invitation insert in our church bulletin.

Eighteen people shared a wonderful dinner, fun conversation, and a little football today.

I, for one, enjoyed seeing a resurrected house, too.

There's something extra special to be thankful for now...

I spoke with Danielle on the telephone yesterday, mentioning that today would be the 26-week mark of her pregnancy. We kept hoping that the baby would hold off and keep growing in her tummy for several weeks to come.

But a couple of hours after I hung up, the contractions started.

It was a long night for Shawn & Danielle (and Danielle's mom, Angie, pictured above), and this morning it became evident that it was time for the baby to come. And he did. And everyone is doing fine.

(Collective sigh of relief...)

The baby doesn't have a name yet, but he represents hope for all of us who have been involved with this little fella. He weighed in at a whopping 1 lb & 15oz, but his little body is proportioned just right & has everything a full-term baby is supposed to have. I had the honor of seeing him, and I heard his little crying voice, watched him open and close his eyes, and saw him flailing his little bitty arms and legs around.

Simply amazing.

There's a long road ahead for the little guy, of course. I thank God for Ronald McDonald Houses (one is next door), which will allow Danielle to stay close by over the next three months for the baby to grow and grow and grow. As with all babies, there are always things to worry about, but they are in a good place, and as of the baby's birthday (today!), all seems well.

There's something special to be thankful for this year.

When Erica made it in for Thanksgiving break this afternoon, I was able to take a picture of two of my biggest reasons ever for being thankful - my daughters...

For some reason, Ocean Springs schools arranged their calendar this year where the kids (and more so, teachers!) enjoy a full week's vacation for Thanksgiving. The major problem with this great idea, of course, is with the mommas and daddies who don't get a full week's vacation for Thanksgiving. What to do with those kiddos?

Three of our great young moms here - Samantha, Hollie, and Lindsey - came up with a great idea for today, and as I type, a load full of kids are enjoying pizza, popcorn, and a movie here at our church's building.

Of course, now that I think of it, Samantha substitute teaches, Hollie teaches elementary school, and Lindsey is studying to teach elementary school - so this isn't much of a break for them. But they have a heart for kids it seems, and it is inspiring to see them spend quality time with all these important kids during their vacation.

If you want to click the link to my Webshots page on the left hand side of this web page, you can check out my new photo album from the game in Starkville yesterday. I ended up with a lot of great pictures (I placed 44 in the album). As you can see from the picture above, I ended up in some unique places with great photo opportunities. College football is such a great place to take a camera. It is quite a spectacle with such a kaleidoscope of colorful things to see, from the football team to the coaches, from the cheerleaders to the band, and of course the crazy fans. There's really nothing else quite like it.

We had a really nice morning of worship and class today. Several out-of-town faces were sprinkled in the audience, and it was so nice to see them. Everyone seemed in an upbeat mood, and both worship and class seemed to go well. I preached from the end of Matthew 6 on Jesus's teachings on the subject of worry.

Jody's currently sorting through Christmas decorations, and I think I'm about to turn out the NFL to see my Cowboys battle the undefeated Colts.

I hope you all have a good day, too...

I took well over 200 pictures today in Starkville as my alma mater, the University of Arkansas, defeated the Mississippi State University Bulldogs 28-14 to clinch the SEC West title. I'll have to put together an updated Webshots folder tomorrow afternoon maybe, but tonight I'm just too tired. And I still have to study for my sermon and class tomorrow.

I had a great time sitting with my friends, David and Darah, in the perfect football weather today. The Razorbacks could have played better, but outside of that, it was a perfect day.

Overall, it's been a great day.

I'm on the road right now, staying in a cheap hotel in Jackson, Mississippi (this is not the great part).

I left Ocean Springs mid-morning and drove to Hattiesburg, where I had lunch at O'Charley's with my daughter. I had some sort of Tex-Mex sirloin steak sandwich, and she had some sort of chicken alfredo thing, but the best part was spending an hour or so with just me and my daughter. I got an update on school and life, and I got to hear her dreams a bit. That made for a great day all by itself.

After lunch, I drove up to Jackson to watch a women's college basketball game.

I met Marianne when she was a 7th grader playing Junior Varsity volleyball with my daughter. She was a great athletic talent even then, but more than that, she was full of life and energy! Erica and Marianne got to be good buddies, and in so doing, she and I did, too. We took Marianne with us to Dallas when I helped Erica stalk international soccer star, Landon Donovan, for a birthday present. It was there, from my nephew Joseph, that she began calling me Uncle Owl. We also took Marianne for Erica's surprise 16th birthday trip from me to Orlando, where we watched some Spring Training baseball and went to a mystery dinner theater.

My wife and I fell in love with the entire family. We evacuated to our church's building together for a tropical storm. We went to their house that horrible morning Marianne's brother, Matthew, was killed in a tragic automobile accident. We went to big sister, Bethany's, wedding. We simply love them all.

I also became a Marianne basketball fan along the way. We played several games of H-O-R-S-E along the way, and I take every opportunity to point out that I always win. But she has a special basketball talent, and I always did my best to go watch her play for the Lady Greyhounds throughout her high school career.

Marianne is a freshman in college now, and tonight was her first game for the Millsaps Lady Majors. Marianne started at point guard, and helped her team get out to a 9-o lead, scoring her first two points in the first few minutes of the game. Then, her coach took her out of the game (why do coaches do that when things are going well?), and the game never got under control again. Marianne ended up playing a lot of minutes, and playing well, but they ended up losing 42-40 when all was said and done.

But I was glad to get to see her play her first college game and score her first college points tonight! The picture above is of Marianne with all of her family that showed up to watch.

It has been a good day. And I plan on tomorrow being a good one as well, when I make the rest of my trip over to Starkville to watch the #5 Arkansas Razorbacks take on the Mississippi State University Bulldogs. The Hawgs and the Dawgs. I can't wait...

I guess today was medical day for me…

I spent several hours in Mobile this morning visiting with Danielle and her mom, Angie. They are both so easy to talk to, and I really enjoyed being there with them. If all hospital visits were like that, I doubt any preacher would ever leave the hospital!

Danielle is up to 25 weeks along now (as of yesterday), and they’ve told her now that they would wait until 34 weeks if they could. Everything is going along fine so far, so we continue to pray that the little fella inside will be content to stay there for several more weeks to come. Shawn & Danielle (and the whole family) appreciates all of you who are praying for them.

The picture above is from the Children’s & Women’s Hospital there in Mobile. As you drive on to the campus, you see lots of these impressive bronze statues scattered around a well-manicured lawn and walkway, all depicting children in one way or another. The statues are captivating, and they made me wonder how many families have driven by and had reactions to them. I’m sure many have seen these depictions of kids enjoying life and have smiled, while others have broken down in tears. I don’t know if the statue garden is a good idea or not, but it surely can’t help being noticed.

This afternoon, my medical day continued with a visit to a surgeon to talk about scheduling a date for my (get your quotation mark fingers ready) “procedure.” The office was quiet, and the visit was smooth. Good folks all around.

When I asked the doctor about all the nightmare stories, he decided to tell me one. One of his colleagues performed a vasectomy for a man, and then eight or ten years later he received a call from the man with the news that his wife was pregnant. Quite a nightmare, eh? It gets worse. The vasectomy wasn’t the problem.

That’s not funny, of course. But I laughed anyway.

Fierce thunderstorms ripped through our area today, bringing over seven inches of rain to the Coast, along with significant tornado damage in counties just north of us. It was all more than a bit reminiscent of Hurricane Katrina for many folks. Those feelings will remain close to the surface for a long time to come it seems.

My daughter's fourth grade class began the day with 20 kids in attendance. There was some confusion on the television station this morning about schools closing (actually the 5th grade school did close today from roof damage), and by day's end, there were 8 kids left in her class. I'm sure most of the parents that came to check out their kids did so because of the confusion, though I suspect the memories of Katrina and the accompanying desires to have your children close by factored in to many of those decisions.

Hurricane Katrina thoughts came back even stronger tonight at our Peak of the Week Class. There weren't very many of "us" there tonight, I guess because of the storms. But there were two relief groups in town today that have been here before: the New London Christian Church (Iowa) is back at our place, and our friends from the Lone Oak Church of Christ (Paducah, KY) are working at Central CofC in Pascagoula, but they came over tonight to see old friends.

At the end of class, Mitchell Covington (preacher at Lone Oak) remembered that he had a DVD that he had made after their first two trips to Ocean Springs. He gave it to Mr. Jim, and we all sat down to watch it. It was a wonderful DVD for anyone to watch (Mitchell did a GREAT job on it), but it was especially poignant for us to watch. I don't cry, and I didn't, but I thought about it. :-) Memories.

It was neat after all was said and done, too, to watch the folks from the New London Christian Church and the Lone Oak Church of Christ getting to know one another. Just another good thing coming from this storm...

So starting early today, Hurricane Katrina reared her head more visibly than she has in a while. But just like I should expect by now, it all turned out good in the end.

Does your spouse ever say to your friends, "Hey, drop the kids off at our house if you need to run some errands?" No? (Note to self: Have long talk with wife.)

Just kidding, of course! Todd & Robin are some of our bestest friends in the world. They have four kids. The oldest is a teenager, so there are only rare sightings of him anymore. Next comes Connor, our Hillary's bestest friend in the world. Pictured above are numbers 3 and 4, and they are full of life!

This family has been displaced from their home ever since Hurricane Katrina. They are finally getting close to moving back in their rebuilt house - in fact, they had a bunch of errands to get done tonight in their frantic attempt to get moved in before Todd's family arrives for Thanksgiving next week. So Jody offered to watch the kids, and we had a blast.

Jaxon shot me with his toy gun so many times tonight I'm leaking like a sieve. And Brynlee served me with so much play pizza I'm pretty sure what I'm leaking is pizza. We had a great time together, and it was a little nostalgic having little ones around the house tonight.

Which, with my rapidly depleting energy level, reminds me to make sure I don't miss that pending doctor's appointment.
:-)

It's on nights like tonight that I'm reminded of how good my job really is. All the folks pictured above (not forgetting Steve, who was chasing his kids around and not in the picture) are talented and energetic and just all-around good people who have hearts for others.

Tonight was a big planning meeting for our brand new S.P.I.N. Ministry (serving Single Parents In Need). We have a HUGE kickoff event planned for Saturday, December 2nd, so we have a lot to straighten out very soon. I feel like we accomplished a lot tonight, even though several more of our talented/energetic/all-around good people with big hearts couldn't attend.

Since we've pinpointed "single-parent families" as the ministry focus of our young adult group, I've really noticed how big a task we're taking on. Pam Willingham, the Single Parent Family Minister at the Richland Hills Church of Christ (Fort Worth, Texas) recommended a book to me, which I bought and read. In it, today's single-parent families are referred to as our modern-day widows and orphans.... That's worth thinking about, especially in light of what James says about pure religion...

So I'm in a very good mood tonight. Getting together with great people for a great cause...

Not a bad way to spend a Monday night.

We don’t watch a lot of movies at our house, not that we’re on some sort of protest or anything, but for some reason we just don’t carve out a lot of time for them. I think the last movie my wife and I actually went to see was that thoughtful presentation on life in the South, Talladega Nights. Sad, huh?

Well, today, our youngest went to a birthday party for a friend, and we thought we’d sneak over to the theater. But alas, nothing was playing (worth seeing) in the timeframe we had, so instead, my wife rented A Lake House. Now I know this is a chick flick, but I’m secure in my manhood. I’m not a big fan of movies in this genre, but I enjoyed The Notebook, so I’m open to giving anything a shot.

Admittedly, The Lake House has a weird premise. Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves attempt to date through a magical mailbox even though they aren’t living in the same year. That’s weird. I don’t care who you are.

Although from what I remember about the dating scene, dating someone who lived in a different year than you isn’t such a horrible idea.

But I digress…

It was a good movie in spite of the far-out premise. Jody cried… again (she’s seen this movie before). And I enjoyed spending a couple of hours sitting by her, movie or not.

I’m too analytical to really enjoy very many movies (outside of those that beg you to analyze them – like, for instance, that thoughtful rendering of life in the South, Talladega Nights). So instead of either simply enjoying the clever storyline in The Lake House, or crying my way through a box of Kleenex, it got me to thinking: I wonder how long one would wait for love?

I guess The Lake House reminded me of the story of Jacob waiting and working for the woman he loved (Rachel). It’s quite romantic, in a tragic sort of way. To love without any immediate gratification. To wait for someone.

It’s a pretty good sermon I think.

Here is the email I sent to my church family yesterday afternoon updating Danielle & Shawn's situation:

I spent a few hours with Shawn & Danielle and Angie & Carol this morning at the USA Women & Children's Hospital in Mobile. They have great facilities and GREAT doctors there, so Danielle and the baby are receiving top notch medical care.

Danielle is only at 24 weeks, so this is a challenging situation. She wasn't due until February 28. But there's reason for hope. As one of her doctors said this morning, just "keep the faith."

The baby weighs 1 pound, 7 ounces right now, so he needs to do some more growing. They have given Danielle medicines, etc. to prevent infection and to try to keep her from going into labor. It is really a waiting game on the baby according to her main doctor over there - he could decide to come any time, or he could just be content to keep on growing in his momma's tummy for a long time.

They told Danielle that they would take the baby at 32 weeks if he hasn't come by then (just after New Year's), so it could be up to eight weeks of bed rest at the hospital in Mobile.

The family was quite emotional this morning, but by the time I left Danielle was laughing and telling me stories about Ethan and their dog and just carrying on a normal conversation. It seemed to me that they were just being able to catch their first collective breath. Now they are just needing to take things one day at a time and wait on the baby to make up his mind when he's coming.

So...

Keep praying for this family. Things could be much worse, but they could have been much better, too. Let's pray that that baby takes his time and grows some more "inside" for the next several weeks, and that the talented medical staff in Mobile keeps performing the healing ministry that they've been called by God to do.

Yours to count on,
Al

There are blue skies outside, and it is Friday. Right now I don’t care about blue skies and Fridays. I remember a children’s story about Alexander having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. Today is an Alexander day. Already.

I love Shawn and Danielle (and Ethan, too!). They make a beautiful family, and I count it a privilege to have shared so many neat things with them.
* I remember the day Shawn walked to the front of our auditorium with a huge smile on his face, ready to be baptized. He hadn’t grown up in this particular church, but he knew what he wanted to do, and you could read the pride and joy in his decision on his face.
* I remember the day not long afterwards when Danielle, who did grow up in this church family, made the same decision. Danielle is much more private, so we made arrangements when there would be less fanfare, and I had the honor of baptizing her, too.
* It was during this time that Shawn & Danielle were engaged to be married. I was new to the preaching game, but Danielle’s grandmother felt they would benefit from some pre-marital counseling and had them ask me to do so with them. I’d never done that sort of stuff before, but we muddled through those special times together.
* I remember the day I officiated their wedding ceremony. I laughed in the side room while Shawn’s brother took pictures of Shawn puking in the toilet – he was so nervous! I remember shy Danielle standing before me calm as a cucumber while Shawn trembled. It was a beautiful sight.
* I remember when Ethan was born, and the request from Shawn that scared me to death. Shawn’s family’s religious tradition involved christening babies, and he knew we didn’t do that sort of thing here, but he wondered if we could do something for his family. My job flashed before my eyes! But we did. We met on a Saturday morning, and we had a sweet dedication service for this new life in the world.
* I remember the phone call when Danielle was pregnant with her second child, informing me that this baby would never see the light of day. Shawn & Danielle wanted a graveside service for this tiny child, and I was honored to officiate.
* I remember hearing that Danielle was pregnant again! Everyone loves Danielle. She’s so sweet you just have to, which makes all the ladies feel tremendous guilt at their jealousy of how Danielle can be pregnant and not look like it!

I’ve baptized and counseled and married and dedicated and eulogized for this family. I am connected in a way no one else can be.

And now, I’ll never forget today either.

Danielle’s grandmother called in tears this morning to tell me that Danielle’s water broke this morning. They are rushing her to a hospital, though she was confused as to which one (I think USA in Mobile). She asked me to pray and to ask for prayers, so that’s what I’m doing until I know more to do.

In spite of Friday blue skies, today is undoubtedly a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

Our garage door now opens!!!!!!!!!!! Even better, it closes, too!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And it “only” cost us $145 to get it fixed. Sad when I’m relieved at that…

Just in time, too. Our garbage pick-up day is tomorrow. Last week, since the garage door was stuck in the down position, I had to carry our trash barrels through the house! Of course, there’s a flip side to everything. The fact that Jody would not allow me to bring our lawnmower across the hardwood floors and carpet had kept me from mowing our yard that one final time before winter. No excuses now.

Tonight is our next homeowner’s meeting. Big turnout the first time. Small turnout the second time. I don’t know if the third time is the charm or not, but I’m guessing it will be an even smaller turnout this time around. But we shall see.

I hope your Thursday is a good one, even if your weather isn’t categorically as beautiful as Ocean Springs this fine day.

This week marks the sixth mission trip to our church family from the Killen Church of Christ (just outside Florence, Alabama). These three faces have become very familiar to us in Ocean Springs. More than familiar. Special, and loved.

Ross Hargett (far right) is an elder in Killen, and he has led every trip. His organization skills make him a man after my own heart (smile), but his compassion and dedication to the work in Ocean Springs goes unmatched. He is quite an inspiration.

My Wednesday began with a good meeting at the mayor’s office. Mayor Moran came late, so the four of us that showed up had a good visit first, but it was very nice after she arrived, too. It wasn’t so much a business-type meeting. It was very informal (we stopped to go out in the hall to share in a birthday surprise for a special-needs young lady who has been working at City Hall), and it was very intimate (the mayor teared up as she told us about her secretary’s positive attitude about the cancer she’s fighting). The five of us felt like friends, not community-leader acquaintances. It was really good.

Later today, I took my daughter to her gym (trampoline) class. While I was there, I read another chapter in Eugene Peterson & Marva Dawn’s book, The Unnecessary Pastor. This one was Dawn’s, “The Call to Triumph Over the Principalities and Powers.” It was interesting.

At the end, Dawn’s lesson on discernment took a challenging approach to the world of blogs and emails, writing:

“At this point I do not have e-mail. That might change later this year when my god-daughter goes to Africa as a missionary, and I will want to be able to communicate with her more easily. Right now, however, I had to choose not to have it because I don’t yet take adequate care of my friend, a widow, who lives down the street. I cannot add another thing to my life when I’m doing such a poor job of what is on my plate now. It is a careful choice, constantly reassessed. I do not ask you to make the same choice, but I urge you to take the same care when making your own good choices…”

She makes a worthy point. All things are permissible, but not all are beneficial. When I think of the on-line world, I realize fully that the good folks represented in the picture above would not be an inspiration to how I live if it weren’t for email. Then again, I can become so enamored by the on-line world that I neglect getting around to living that inspired life with real people face-to-face.

It is a constant battle, and it calls for constant vigilance. My prayer tonight is Solomon’s famed prayer, asking for a great big measure of discernment in my life.

I voted today. And part of me wonders why.

Not to say that I think it’s a bad thing. Big names in Restoration Movement history like Barton W. Stone and David Lipscomb didn’t vote for religious reasons, claiming to be citizens of only one kingdom, and that the Kingdom of God. I admire the purity of their convictions, and their theology has some merit, but I still don’t buy it. I think voting is a good thing, even after studying the Bible.

The part of me that wonders why I voted does so from the “did-it-make-any-difference” standpoint. I voted in two races today, both U.S. Congress seats, and in my neck of the woods both winners are known before the first ballot is counted. Come tomorrow, Senator Trent Lott (Republican) and Representative Gene Taylor (Democrat) will both have another term. I could have voted in two local races, but I didn’t know anything about either race, so I chose not to flip a coin (plus, I didn’t have any change). Other than that, the rest of the candidates on the ballot ran unopposed.

No, I didn’t feel like I accomplished much in the voting booth today.

But I voted anyway, and I think I was voting for voting.

How’s the quote go, democracy is a horrible form of government, except for all the rest? Well, something like that… I happen to agree.

The reason we despise the word “politics” is not that is inherently evil (how else would one even know how to choose leaders in a representative democracy as large as ours without politics?), but because our society values money so much. Politics is a power struggle, and we’ve all been taught that money equals power. Oh, there may be moral arguments for both leaders and policies, but in the end, it is money that talks.

But I still vote for voting. Even if nothing was accomplished by my having done so today.

Since I’ve no real intention in this blog becoming an exercise in deception, I’ll confess that I’ve been in a real sour mood for the past twenty-four hours or so. I really was having a wonderful day yesterday up through the Peter Anderson Festival, but later that evening, everything just started to head south. Nothing to talk about really, at least not on a blog.

Today was fine, really. But my mood has pervaded the day in spite of the fact that all has been well on a Monday.

A really big storm came through our area this evening, complete with tornado warnings and everything. Seemed like a mini-hurricane with the intensity of the winds and rain. My wife and I got on the phones and tried to catch all the young adults before any brave soul headed to the church’s building for a planning meeting of our S.P.I.N. ministry (serving Single Parents In Need). I hope we got everyone in time.

It worked out well on a couple of fronts. My youngest daughter got to do some reading for school that she really needed to do, and I enjoyed the chance to hang out with my wife for an evening. To risk sounding like a preacher, we actually looked through a seminary lecture on the “emerging church” movement. We never do this sort of thing. But we did tonight, and I enjoyed it very much.

I’m in a bit of a better mood, so maybe that will continue its trend tomorrow.

Maybe a little Monday Night Football will help…

Ocean Springs is a festival town, and the Peter Anderson Festival is the granddaddy of them all. It has been selected as one of the Southeast Tourism Society’s Top 20 Events, an event in which nearly three hundred artists from around the country set up shop and display (and sell) their works of beauty to the thousands and thousands of people who travel from everywhere for this annual event.

This year’s festival is the 28th time around, and from the people in the know that I’ve spoken to – in terms of attendance – this may be the biggest one ever. From what I was told, yesterday’s attendance was unbelievable.

Thankfully, we decided to wait until today to attend. My family brought a change of clothes to worship this morning, and after class, we changed and walked across Highway 90 to enjoy the festivities. Several of our church family members decided to do the same thing, and it was fun to bump into them periodically as we wandered around the blocked-off downtown area.

We stopped for a barbecue sandwich at Mohler’s gas station and enjoyed the music of a live jazz band as we ate. We sat in the shade and felt the cool breeze while watching people pass by enjoying the bright sun and seventy degree temperatures of Ocean Springs in November.

I especially enjoyed running into my friend, Michael Dickinson, whose wife, Lisa, is a local artist. This was really the first time I’ve seen her work up close, and she is an amazing talent. As we spoke with Lisa, she talked about the hundreds of different art forms she could explore, and how she would have to live several lives to be able to truly investigate every one. Her job as an artist could never become old or monotonous.

Which makes me think of God, of course.

The mission statement of the “Peter Anderson Memorial Arts, Crafts, and Food Festival” (which we all call the Peter Anderson Festival for short) is “to create access to a broad array of diverse art forms and encourage the expanding depth and breadth of cultural life in Ocean Springs and the Gulf Coast.”

I think the festival accomplishes its mission quite well, but for me it simply provided a great afternoon with my family, my friends, and my community, along with a barbecue sandwich, some jazz music, and a little reflection on what it must feel like to be creative like God.

Not a bad afternoon at all.

If my goal for our church's "leadership retreat" was to take our elders, deacons, and full-time ministers to a crappy hotel, spend several hours meeting together in a dark, gloomy, and trashy meeting room (pictured above during a break), and get very little sleep due to the rowdy drunken construction worker party outside our rooms, then this weekend has been a stunning success.

But that really wasn't my goal going in...

We stayed at this exact same hotel two years ago for the exact same retreat, but something must have changed with Hurricane Katrina.

Just a few snippets...
* On arrival, only 4 of our 6 room keys actually worked.
* The former conference room is now a bar.
* From a distance, the bar seemed to have better lighting and custodial attention.
* The clock in my room didn't work because the end of the cord consisted of frayed wires instead of a handy plug-in.
* Nor could we get a wake-up call since our phone didn't work.
* One room had no clean towels. Upon asking for clean towels, Ron was told that they didn't have any.
* In the middle of the drunken party next to his room, Norton went to the front desk and found the Security Guard sitting there. When informed of the drunken party, the security guard responded, "I know."
* Words can't describe the conference room. Not even the picture above.

Could be worse, They told us there was a wedding coming in today... :-)

I hope it wasn't a complete waste of time, however. I did put quite a bit of work into the retreat, although there is never enough time to plan as well as I would like. I felt like I talked too much, but in spite of that, I think some important points were made and important plans were begun.

So we'll see what happens...

I still wonder if Jesus ever came back from one of his outings with his buddies and thought, "Man, that just sucked."

I’m blogging early today. I’ve got a busy night scheduled, which I’ll tell you about tomorrow, so I thought I’d do this while I can…

Plus, I’m already thinking about something that relates quite a bit to the overall title to my blog: Minutes to Memories. I may need to pick a new song one of these days, when I begin to feel less like the phrase “you are young and you are the future” applies to me, but for now it still seems to work.

Today is the twelfth anniversary of the death of my father.

I guess it’s appropriate that my very best picture ever is of his grave, since his memory has such a picturesque hold on my mind. He was fifty years older than me, a fact that led our relationship to almost resemble grandfather/grandchild more than father/son, but only in a way that made the father/son reality even better. None of my friends heard World War 2 stories from their dad. None of them heard about life in the Great Depression. And no dad in the history of mankind spent more afternoons playing catch with his son than mine.

Has he really been gone for twelve years?

I was twenty-four years old when he died. Now I’m thirty-six. I’ve now spent an entire third of my life without a father. That is just so hard to believe.

They say time heals all wounds. I don’t know about that, but it sure does change things. Though I think about him a lot, I don’t think about him nearly as much as I used to… This I find very sad. I don’t cry about him anymore… This makes me want to cry all by itself.

Time provides coping skills, I’ll give it to time for that. But if it heals wounds where they don’t hurt anymore, well then time’s usefulness is way overrated. I want to hurt for the memory for my dad. Call me masochistic if you wish. He’s worth it.

I need a little wisdom from Mellencamp today: “Days turn to minutes, and minutes to memories. Life sweeps away the dreams we have planned. You are young, and you are the future. So suck it up and tough it out, and be the best you can.”

In memory of my dad today, another printing of my poem about him…


ALBERT STURGEON, JR. (AN ELEGY)

Nothing reminds me of home like a pack of Camel cigarettes.
My dad smoked them, and then we shot Havlicek jumpers at his shoes
With the wadded-up packs. I hated the putrid smell of the smoke,
And knew I’d never take it up. But he did, so I loved it, too.

My dad was tough. He smoked hard cigarettes and had drank hard liquor.
He once cleared a bar with a pool cue and spent the night behind bars.
He had fought the Japanese, and he never cried. He lived his life
Without a shirt, his sun-weathered skin, barrel chest, and thick forearms

Nicked and bruised and spotted with “monkey blood.” His bicep sported a
Tattoo of a battleship with the name, Ruby, below. I was
Stupid enough for years to think that was the ship’s name. No matter.
I loved his toughness. Because he was my dad, and he loved me.

He was tough enough to kiss me on the lips and offer his lap
As a seat until I was too big. He called me “booger” and his
Grandkids, “tootie-wumps.” He was tough enough to sing songs like, “I know
A song, ain’t very long, toodle-up, toodle-up, now it’s all gone.”

He was tough enough to spend hours on end playing catch with me.
His toughness came from a hard life. Growing up in the Depression,
Becoming a man at war, and growing old carving sides of beef
As a butcher shapes a man’s perspective. His perspective shaped me.

When I fell down, he’d say “That’ll feel better when it stops hurting.”
He cussed like the sailor he was, using nigger and goddammit
With ease. Church was fine for us, but not for him, and yet none of this
Fazes me. He came from a different era, and he loved me.

He’d offer “a big onion and cup of coffee” as birthday gifts,
But it was no secret that his heart melted for his family.
I still see him with a flip-over baloney sandwich before
Heading outside to do “something.” Undefeated by life. My dad.

There were several interesting things going on today, but I thought I'd hone in on the Habitat for Humanity of Jackson County meeting I attended tonight.

Pictured above are the six newest Habitat families. Cynthia Black, the Family Support Chair that succeeded me, arranged for tonight's meeting to do the initial introduction for these recently selected folks. This was the first time for Cynthia to do a training session, and she did GREAT!

Nicole, the chair of the Development Committee (whether she'll ever admit it or not!) conducted another one of her excellent attempts to get non-construction volunteers plugged into the organization.

Both Cynthia and Nicole HATE public speaking, so when we arrived early, they came up with this idea of having me do the talking to both groups at the same time, introducing Habitat for Humanity's history and philosophy. I basically never turn down an opportunity to speak about Habitat, so I was happy to do so.

The first thing I said is that I had good news and bad news for me! The bad news was that I was totally unprepared to speak tonight. The good news was that I could speak about Habitat without needing a moment's notice.

Of the many things I naturally say about Habitat, the one that I remember sitting here at my computer a few hours later is this: Habitat is not just another organization. It is the only organization I know of that truly seeks to bring all people together, entire communities - from every background - through serving the poor in the name of Jesus.

I still wish a church fit that bill, too.

This is a semi-fuzzy picture of my garage door taken about thirty minutes ago. To the naked eye, this looks like a perfectly fine garage door. This, of course, is why eyes should not go running around naked.

If you look closely, the bottom of the left side of the garage door does not touch the pavement. The bottom of the right side of the garage door does touch the pavement. This is a not a good combination of facts.

In fact, it looked a whole lot worse earlier today when, for some reason, the garage door decided to go berserk, rip things out of the garage that weren't supposed to be ripped out, dent a perfectly attractive garage door, send cables and wires and screws in places they ought not be, and just generally create a disaster. It looked really bad is what I'm trying to say. Then my wife and I combined to at least get it close to being closed, with a slash across my wrist (note; not self-inflicted) the only casualty of war.

So far.

I have a nasty feeling that the biggest casualties of war are yet to come, and I suspect casualty number one to be my bank account, and casualty number two to be my time.

At least I know what to expect, right?

So, how was your afternoon?