Man, I hate it when I get kicked in the face

If you will indulge me, I have a few words of personal testimony. Nothing earth-shattering, mind you, just a sampling of what's going on in Chucky-land.

I miss God. I know that sounds ridiculous but it's true. I guess with moving, Romania, and general busy-ness in life I have just lost focus. It's funny that even a mission trip can be a distraction if your heart is a little left of center. But recently I have really longed to be closer to God.

Over the past year and a half, my relationship with God has reached new levels of intimacy, devotion, and passion. It has been amazing to see Him work and bring about things that I never dreamed of. But lately (a few months) I've slacked in my study time and my prayer time has really, really fallen off. The ol' slippery slope again. Man, I'm a sucker for that.

So in the past couple of weeks, I've been troubled about all of this. There have been several wet-eyed nights, sleepless nights, and heavy-hearted days. The worst of it is that even with a desire to reconnect, I've still found difficulty in turning back to Him.

But things are a-changing. God has shown me areas where I need work, things I've let interfere and things that I had dropped that I need to pick back up and continue pursuing. These burdens require much prayer.

Prayer. Back to that again. I need prayer to help... scratch that. Help implies assistance which implies that I just need an extra hand with this. That's not quite how it is. I don't need assistance, I need deliverance.

So in my prodigal-like return to closeness with God, I have found a passage that I will now share. Not only does it describe my recent dilemma, it also prescribes the cure. By the way, I totally ripped this off.

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from "How to Pray," by R.A. Torrey --

In the twelfth chapter of the Acts of the Apostles, we have a record of a prayer that prevailed with God and brought to pass great results. In the fifth verse of this chapter, the manner and method of this prayer are described in few words:

"Prayer was made without ceasing of the church unto God for him."

The first thing to notice in this verse is the brief expression unto God. The prayer that has power is the prayer that is offered unto God.

But some will say, "Is not all prayer unto God?"

No. Very much of so-called prayer, both public and private, is not unto God. In order that a prayer should be really unto God, there must be a definite and conscious approach to God when we pray; we must have a definite and vivid realization that God is bending over us and listening as we pray. In very much of our prayer, there is really but little thought of God. Our mind is taken up with the thought of what we need, and is not occupied with the thought of the mighty and loving Father of whom we are seeking it. Oftentimes it is the case that we are occupied neither with the need nor with the One to whom we are praying, but our mind is wandering here and there throughout the world. There is no power in that sort of prayer. But when we really come into God's presence, really meet Him face-to-face in the place of prayer, really seek the things we desire from Him, then there is power.

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Okay. Maybe you're a much better Christian than me (most likely), or you're just a more effective praying person (also likely). But I can honestly say that alot of my prayer times are taken up with my focus on the need. "God, can't You see how much I need this? Surely I've been good enough to deserve this? Throw me a bone here. I don't ask You for much and it really would solve everything." (God snickers)

Our faith shouldn't be in the righteousness of our request. Many things that we pray for are very godly but we let our understanding of God tell us that He should want this, too. I don't think it works that way.

Our faith and focus should be in the One who loves us enough to want to give us good things, and has the power to provide our needs. Only He has the wisdom and knowledge to define "good."

Funny side-note: in 1875 when R.A. Torrey came to realize his spiritual state and surrendered his life to Christ, he prayed, "Oh God, deliver me from this burden -- I'll even preach."

Stab the Pickle

I'm going to open a booth at the fair this year. It will be called "Stab the Pickle." Judging from the amount of money those carnies make from all the other impossible games, I'll be independently wealthy at 38.

I spent twenty minutes trying to get a pickle out of a jar tonight. I had a knife and jabbed down into the jar, just like I always do, which usually works flawlessly. I have loved pickles since I was a wee lad so I'm quite an accomplished pickle-poker. But tonight, I lost my mojo. That little sucker squirted all around the jar, bouncing from side to side, up and down, just out of reach of my too-wide-for-the-mouth-of-the-jar hand. Sure, I could've changed tactics, tried a fork or needle-nosed pliers, but where's the victory in that?

Look at 'em up there, taunting me with their beady little bumpy spot things.

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Today was the day I dread every two years at work. Yes, to my horror, today was Department of Transportation-mandated physical examination day. We have to be re-certified every two years in order to drive our company vehicles so that you people can go about your business on the roads without the fear of large, heavy trucks running all over your keesters. Physical exams are a walk in the park for me, I'm generally a healthy guy. But these exams come with an eye test. And, yep, that means color tests, too. (shudder)

Lucky for me (and you all), I am an accomplished sneak. The eye chart, the one with all the funny words on it like "defpotec" and "gnyxlep", was posted on the wall at the end of the hallway that I had to walk down to get to the paperwork room. So I stole a glance and memorized lines five through eight. The test was a breeze.

The color test consists of colored thumbtacks that I had to identify as the lady pointed at them. Never let it be said that luck doesn't get you anywhere. I passed with flying colors. Get it? Flying colors? Color test? I kill myself.

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I guess that's enough senseless banter for tonight. Friday night should be fun. Go here for details. I'm looking forward to just hanging out and relaxing. I hope everyone can make it. I think we'll watch The Princess Bride.

Have a great weekend, y'all. Sunday night begins our new stuff in Frequency. It's gonna be really, really awesome.

If a tree falls in the woods...

...will anyone hear it? I won't debate the answer to that question (I say yes, if anyone's around) but this I do know: If a tree falls in a residential neighborhood, most likely no one will hear anything on their telephone.

We've had a lot of rain lately, as you all know, and that always means more work for moi. Heavy rains mean saturated soil which means that roots are anchored in loose, watery mud instead of firm, dry soil. Add a little wind and, voila, Chuckie's working late.

Just a couple of days ago we were called, (at 3 stinking 30) to go to a small neighborhood behind Berry Funeral Home. Ugh. Lots of old trees there. We arrived and saw what you see above, only there was a telephone cable underneath it. This tree was HUGE! It was as big around as my dining room table. Okay, not my table because mine is rectangular (and scorched) but as big as a round dining room table. Trust me, it was a big 'un.

We looked over the damage and made a call for some new cable. While we were waiting for that to be delivered, we studied this tree and oohed and aahed over the size and how it wasn't dead. In fact, to look inside the exposed trunk it looked very healthy and alive. The problem was under the ground. The exposed root ball had a large, cavernous hole underneath. The tree didn't break, it didn't even blow over. One side had actually washed out under it and the thing just simply tipped over, just like if your tire goes flat and one corner of your car lowers. It was amazing.

As I stood and gawked about this, my wheels started turning. No matter how healthy and alive something appears, inside or out, knock out the foundation and it will topple over and come crashing down.

According to the grace of God given to me, like a skilled master builder I laid a foundation, and someone else is building upon it. Let each one take care how he builds upon it. For no one can lay a foundation other than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ. --1 Corinthians 3:10,11

I will say again that if I had met Paul in the first century, I don't think I would have liked him. Great preacher, yes, but still, we wouldn't have clicked for other reasons. But one thing about him that I love, he was constanly reminding the believers of what they had been taught by him. He wasn't about to let them plead ignorance. If they fell away, it was their choice but he kept their faith fresh on their minds.

Here he reminds them that the basis of it all, everything that they do, believe, every work they perform, is built on the foundation of Christ. He is the reason and the cause of all we do. It's all for Him, about Him, and by Him. And anything built upon that will be tested by fire; the things that survive bringing reward, and the things that are burned up suffering loss.

The Old Testament prophesies of this:

...therefore thus says the Lord God, "Behold, I am the One who has laid as a foundation in Zion, a stone, a tested stone, a precious cornerstone, of a sure foundation: 'Whoever believes will not be in haste.' " --Isaiah 28:16

Ah yes, now the personal part. How's your foundation? How strong are the central, core beliefs and the fundamental faith and love you have for God? Will they withstand a storm? Will Satan wash out underneath you and bring you crashing down with the simplest temptation? When you face the world and the deceptions it throws our way, will you become weakened and fall in with them, your faith toppling like the tree above?

I did. I do, frequently. I couldn't see it at the time but, ya know, hindsight and all that jazz. I've been a sucker for deception. I've often said that I am the devil's favorite Christian, so easy to sway. It's only because, at the time, I wasn't building anything worthwhile on my foundation. I've known Jesus for a long time and that will never change or weaken. But failing to maintain our relationship by not staying in the Word, not furthering my prayer life, and not doing the works that will stand the test of fire leaves me, and you, vulnerable and unsteady. The roots are still intact but the ground around them can't hold them in place. All it took for that big, strong tree to fall was for a little trickle of water to slowly but eventually wash out the foundation.

Sorry if this bored you but sometimes working late pays more than overtime wages.

Have a great Wednesday.

Point of view matters alot.

Cap'n Barbosa -- "The world's a-gettin' smaller."

Cap'n Jack Sparrow -- "The world hasn't changed. It's just less empty."

I love these lines from At World's End. Even though the movie is a little too outlandishly cheesy at times. It seems that things look different to everyone. It just depends on the place from which you are looking.

Honestly, this quote made me think of church. Uh oh. Now I've done it.

It seems there is a concentration of our church members who are drifting away right now. I'm sure some have valid reasons but from what the grapevine tells me, most are just making up reasons and then trying to justify them. My question is, "Why?"

A year ago I would have wished them all well because it was hard to be there most of the time. We could have hired a full-time bookie to take bets on who would be preaching, people were at each others throats trying to get their candidates name in the hat, and the music was, well, if you were there then I need say no more.

But now? Things are really good, y'all. We've got some good things going on, people are passionate about their respective causes, Dr. Golden has provided great stability in the pulpit and his teaching is as solid and biblical as you will find anywhere, and G-man has the choir back to a good number and the music is favorable to all. It's a good time to be at SCBC.

So why are people unhappy? I think they just can't see the forest for the trees, so to speak. We went for a few years in constant turmoil and now that things have calmed down and gotten enjoyable again, some people can't adjust. Maybe they're still looking for an on-going problem or something. I don't know. But now doesn't seem like the time to be bailing out. It's the perfect time to be getting re-involved.

So let's take those principles and apply them to the "Upper Room" (the youth room, to the lay-person). Good changes are coming, great new approach and teachings, and JGen is about to turn one year old (Sniff. Sorry, it's really just my allergies). But some regulars aren't as regular as they used to be and that makes me sad. I miss them alot. I know that summer does that but should it? Shouldn't we be faithful no matter what season it is? Shouldn't we remain faithful no matter what life throws our way? I believe with all my heart that if something draws us away from the things we do for God and the people we love there at church, then it's a distraction. Yeah, I'll say it. High School sports included.

God has us all there for a reason, and He has us all serving in the student ministry for a reason. I want to take that a little more seriously. Loving on our kids and influencing them and being mentors to them is a huge responsibility, but it's a great blessing, too. Because, to be completely honest, I don't want them to make my mistakes. I don't want them to turn out like me. I want to do all I can to help them live better and make better decisions than I did. One thing that my bad decisions have taught me is that life is too short to make bad decisions.

So, what I mean by all that is let's all re-ignite our fires. I don't think things have changed that much from a year ago or even the beginning of 2009. I think we just need to see things the way we did then.

Ta-ta.

Here's your sign.

And the angel of the Lord appeared to him and said to him, "The Lord is with you, O mighty man of valor." And Gideon said to him, "Please, sir, if the Lord is with us then why has all this happened to us? And where are all his wonderful deeds that our fathers recounted to us...' " --Judges 6:12,13

And the Lord turned to him and said, "Go in this might of yours and save Israel from the hand of Midian; do I not send you?" --Judges 6:14

Mighty man of valor?!? Sounds more like a whiner and excuse-maker to me. But I think I'll start using that title on my friends: Spenser Proctor, Mighty Man of Valor. Sure beats Ph.D, huh?

Poor Gideon was a complainer. But isn't that how God chooses His servants? If He chose great, accomplished men then the men would get the glory. Seriously, if Bill Gates were called to give his wealth to the Lord, what would be the big deal? The money would be the big deal. But a poor woman with a few coins gives all that she has and God is glorified in her faith.

So it is with Gideon. He says, "What do you mean the Lord is with us? I don't see it!"

But this time God, not the angel, speaks. "Giddy-up, Gideon! I am with you." (That was really cheesy. Sorry).

Then Gideon said to God, "If You will save Israel by my hand, as You have said, behold, I am laying a fleece of wool on the threshing floor. If there is dew on the fleece alone, and it is dry on all the ground, then I shall know that you will save Israel by my hand, as You have said." And it was so. When he rose early next morning and squeezed the fleece, he wrung enough dew from the fleece to fill a bowl with water. --Judges 6:36-38

You gotta be kidding. God Himself appears to this guy and tells him He's got his back and he still asks for a sign. Can't you just see God rolling His eyes? But He obliges and Gideon wrings out his Sham-Wow like a sponge. Maybe the angel was Billy Mays? (R.I.P)

In the following verses, Gideon asks for one more little sign of God's sincerity. This time he wants the ground wet and the fleece dry. And God once again performs. So did Gideon get God to show His power? Did God prove to Gideon how almighty and faithful He is?

Nope. Gideon already knew that. Gideon knew God. All Gideon managed to prove was how insecure, faithless, and doubtful he was. But the next time God asks him to do something, he responds right away.

I was asked to teach Sunday School this morning and this was our lesson. I've ripped Gideon for being so weak but the truth is, haven't we all done this? Haven't we asked for God to prove to us that we are right?

Jesus rebuked the Pharisees and Sadducees for asking for a sign (Matthew 16). What is it that we are really asking for when we ask for a sign? Isn't the Holy Spirit here to counsel and guide us instead?

I think, based on my own mistakes and faults (they are not so few), that we usually already know the answers to the questions we pose to God. We are just hoping that God will eventually conform to our wishes. So we pray, and pray some more for an outcome that fits what we want. We are trying to make Him our servant.

So we ask for a sign. Then we watch and hope for something that reinforces our desires. It's not hard to find something like that to latch onto when have convinced ourselves that we are right. Just like with Gideon, God does provide confirmations and such. But if we are watching for a sign that we choose, then we will ignore what He wants us to see in lieu of what we are hoping to see.

I guess it all comes back to surrender and truly being willing to seek God's wisdom and follow it even when it opposes our will. Dr. Golden mentioned this morning about presuming upon God, which means that we take it upon ourselves to determine what God would or should want. I think those of us who have been believers for a long time find it easy to assume we know God well enough to do His thinking for Him. Probably not a good idea, but I can recall times when I have been guilty of that very thing.

So I guess the point is that we don't need signs from God because we have God Himself leading our way. His word is His sign ("Our word is our bond, Harry!").

Yay! It's Monday! (can you feel the sarcasm?)

I kinda feel like I'm wiping the sleep out of my eyes

I had one of those days that makes me want to do this. No reason, I guess. But it didn't really start out that way so I guess it was church that did it.

I had a conversation with Benji after everyone had left and found myself almost giddy about the upcoming changes. He's got a great new way of doing things and the fact that I like it says alot. I'm not much of a changer, or decider.

Actually, I do like things getting shaken up occasionally but I was a little worried about these changes because I've been so fond of the way we've done things for... hmm, let's see... three years now? Wow.

Of course, I won't spoil things by telling you what the different schedule is. That's not my place. But you'll like it. Trust me.

My excitement, though, is not really in the new schedule, it's the new approach. What the Grand High Potentate has come up with is one of those things that builds and strengthens relationships between us all. It's back to that whole accountability and encouragement thing we all blogged about months ago (whatever happened to that?). Remember Jonah? Dying to self? Swallowed Alive?

I guess life and summer got in the way. That happens, ya know. But no matter. What does matter is that we all have that same desire to grow closer to God, each other, and pick up where things left off. Not that we've fallen or stumbled or anything bad, but our intensity faded. Our focus fox got ran over.

Sarah said it best (she does that alot). Discipline. There are many disciplines that we need in our lives but our spiritual disciplines are essential. It's not just the daily prayer and study time, but the vision, creativity, fellowship, and family time with our crew that keeps us strong and, yes, focused.

It's like the Good Reverend said just tonight, we are in a battle everyday. No one can stand alone. That's very true. We need our little pow-wows to regroup.

So I look forward to tightening the noose around my own neck. That may not be the best way to put it but I need to be spiritually challenged to grow. You do, too. We need the trials of life, the mountains and valleys, but we also need to simply re-evaluate our walk every now and then. We need to look at our way of living and our decision-making and see if they match up with God's desires. Holiness is a lofty goal, but it's attainable.

So that's why I'm Snoopy-dancing today. Because God has brought us to a place that will bring us closer to Him by putting our love for Him to the test through our obedience to Him.

Didn't the old G.I. Joe cartoons say something about "knowing is half the battle?" Hmmm...

Turning over a new leaf, over and over and over

I pulled this picture simply because it makes me grin. Rachel truly was a rose on our trip because she was always in a good mood no matter what situation we were in.

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Finally, then, brothers, we ask and urge you in the Lord Jesus, that as you received from us how you ought to walk and to please God, just as you are doing, that you do so more and more.

For God has not called us for impurity, but in holiness. Therefore, whoever disregards this, disregards not man but God, who gives His Holy Spirit to you.

These verses from 1 Thessalonians 4 have been on my mind for a few weeks. I was thinking about the limits we place on ourselves when it comes the way we live. Dr. Golden touched on this Sunday and that brought it home for me.

I think too often we decide we want to live better, holier even, and we psyche ourselves up for a great lifestyle change, get a fresh, blank journal and put our Bible a little closer to the bedside, and then... ____.

Our Christian life has many seasons of ups and downs, just ask anyone who has been a believer for more than twenty minutes. By ups and downs I mean times when we walk the line and times when we swerve from ditch to ditch. If you don't know what I'm talking about, you're a saint. Congratulations.

Paul wrote that when it comes to how we should walk and live to please God, do that then do more. And more. There are no limits, there is no point of achievement, no checklist to complete. There isn't a, "Whew! Made it!" It's an on-going process that takes diligence.

He goes on to say that our sanctification is God's will and we should abstain from sexual immorality and be self-controlled in holiness and honor, because we are called in holiness. I expect we will all hear more on the holiness topic in the coming weeks.

I know we can all pursue holiness more diligently because, honestly, there is always more to pursue. We aren't closer to the finish because we're better than some or most. The benchmark isn't people, people. It's Jesus.

Paul also wrote, and Dr. G also spoke about, "persuasive words", or "plausible arguments" (Colossians 2:4). It doesn't take much to let our guard down and be persuaded by people who want to tear down our beliefs. In fact, Paul says that we should take care that we aren't deceived or deluded by them.

So I see it this way. Since we know how we ought to walk and live, we should just simply live that way. God has given us His Spirit to guide us. To not listen to that voice is to turn our back on God Himself. The enemy is actively pursuing us all, trying to deceive us through any means possible. Pursuing God and holiness is our only defense. And that's the beauty of the simplicity of God's Word. As the good Dr. said, "If the Bible says to avoid something, it says that for a reason."

Now that I've managed to rid myself of H1N1...

let's get back to business. My life the past few days has consisted of church, work and sleep. I can't remember when I've felt this sick. But I am on the mend, so, allow me to talk about the darling people who probably gave me swine flu.

The photo above represents a typical day in Tataresti after bible school. All the children are leaving, some with parents or older siblings, some alone. Shortly after this we would put all the chairs back out and sit down for a palate-pleasing meal of peanut butter and jelly or honey sandwiches. Every day. During lunch we would all talk about who was attentive and who we thought really got the message.

I will always remember thinking of these kids and wondering what was going through their minds while we taught them about Jesus, tried to tell them how a fisherman named Peter met this Man and learned to believe Him, trust Him, and follow Him, and how they all needed Him more than they needed anything else. At the time it seemed almost silly to try and convince these poor, under-privileged people that they could find joy in their lives even without clothes or food or any ceature comforts.

But they felt joy. They felt love. They felt it enough to come back four more days, some walking who knows how far just to spend two hours playing, making a simple necklace, and listening to us sing and talk. Something brought them back.

I assure you it wasn't a game, a skit, a song with animated hand motions, or a bible story in a language they had probably never heard. It most certainly wasn't any one of us that drew them back to that little church at the bend of the road.

That's what ran through my mind each day as they left. I hated to see them go but I knew they would be back. They would be back because it didn't matter how many of them "got it." They would come back because they had felt something that many of them had never felt before. They had heard the message, the message that we sometimes take for granted as old news, routine, or those stories we heard in our childhood.

Some of them may never hear it again. But that's okay. They heard it for one short week. And sometimes, once is all it takes.

Revelation 3:20 says, "...I stand at the door and knock." We can only pray that the message these Romanians and Hungarians were given finds a way to pry open the door. We have completed the task that we were given and now we leave them in the hands of the Holy Spirit, knowing that He desires their acceptance more than anything.

I'm really grateful to God for the opportunity I had to go there and share Him with them. Continue to pray for the children of Tataresti.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you......

Gringott's Bank. That's right. Diagon Alley is not in London, it's in Vienna. And I was there.

Okay, so that's cheesy but it's the first thing I thought of when I saw this building. Potter fans unite!

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Well, we are home. Hallelujah!

What a trip it was! I will go on and on in future posts and tell stories just like everyone else but this is not the post for that. This post is dedicated to homecoming.

Words can't say how happy I am to be back where I belong. Europe is beautiful, and being the history freak that I am, I can never see enough Renaissance art and architecture. And the Roman ruins in Vienna honestly had me choked up because I couldn't believe I was standing next to something I have dreamed of seeing for so long. I saw statues dedicated to Caesar Augustus (yes, the same one from Luke 2:1), Emperor Constantine, etc., etc. Like I said, on and on.

But I spent two weeks on a mission trip in a tiny Gypsy village with JGen. My JGen. Not mine to own but mine that God has blessed me to be a part of. It will make your hearts explode with joy when you see the photos of them with the kids from Tataresti. The happiness they brought to those under-privileged children in one short week will stick with them for the rest of their lives. The JGenners put smiles on the faces of kids who have very little to be happy about, they played with them, laughed with them, prayed with them, treated them as equals while their own neighbors shun them and oppress them. They loved them. And most of them have felt very little love in their lives.

Sarah, Virginia, Hannah, Hayley, Rachel, Spenser, John (JGenner now by default), I am more proud of you than ever. And I know that God is pleased with you, too. You put a face to the Name of Jesus these past two weeks. The kids there that surrendered to Him will always remember you all as the proof that He is real and that He loves them. I love you all.

But I have to confess. I was a complete jerk for most of the trip. I picked the wrong time to break a nicotine addiction. It was the biggest struggle I've ever faced and the two week headache due to withdrawal affected everyone around me. My mood was sour and my attitude bitter, as I told Spenser and John, I was the spirit of discord and bitterness. I'm terribly sorry to all of you for acting like a butt. But you showed your true character by overlooking me and not letting me get in the way.

However, the sun is shining. I am now tobacco free. I know many of you are happy about this but no one more than me. It feels like broken chains, to be honest. Praise God for breaking them.

Favorite homecoming story: About four days ago, we were eating ice cream (gelato) at this little streetside cafe thing. I had the "X-Trem Minta." I commented that the mint was a little minty-er that day. Hayley Taylor, who was dying to get home, said, "Yeah, the mint is minty-er, the sky is bluer, the grass is greener because we are one more day closer to home."

I cracked up.

Good to be back, y'all. Even though the time change and jet-lag has me waking up at 3:30 a.m. I'm doing laundry as I blog.

Happy Friday. Mays clan... be safe and have fun at the beach.

Buna Ziua! That means hello.

It is 10:00 p.m. here in lovely Satu Mare, Romania on Friday night. It has been a long and grueling week of VBS in the village of Tataresti (the "i" is silent). We have some amazing stories from the past week but I won't spoil it for the rest of the team by telling it all here.

The team I am speaking of is one half of the VBS crew. Half of our fellow travelling partners are in Baba Novac village. Our team in Tataresti is as follows:

Benji, Angela, and Bennett

Snoop Doug

Virginia

Sarah

Spenser

Johnny DQ

Hannah G-riffin

Translators...Bianca and Corrina

and, yours truly.

We had about sixty kids the first day, and our "top score" for the week was around 100. Salvation decisions are somewhere around 50-60. But, like I said, many stories and blog posts to come. Not just from me, I'm sure.

Anyway, we are safe and having a great time. We have a youth rally tomorrow and Monday is a free day. We then leave for Austria (G'day, mate!), and then homeward bound. I have loved this trip but I think I'm ready to start thinking about home again. Truth is, I miss y'all a whole bunch. As amazing as this experience is, there's no substitute for home, JGen, SCBC, Frequency, and everything else we've left behind.

And apparently we have to arrange our own transportation from McGhee-Tyson, a tidbit I missed out on earlier. So if anyone is in the taxi business next Thursday, I'll call you from Chi-town.

La Revedere!

Here are a few things....just in case

If you think the next two weeks will be hard for you, just remember the people who will be tolerating me. Two weeks without Mountain Dew, Fudge Rounds, or tobacco. This is the reason that mission trips are a sacrifice. It is very unlikely that I will be able to remain light-hearted and jovial under such circumstances. But I am happy to be ridding myself of tobacco once and for all. It worked the last time I went so let's hope lightning strikes twice. And this time I will not start back. Hold me accountable.

This trip will most certainly be life-changing, and considering the people who are going, then it will also be church-changing. There is definitely something brewing and I can't wait for it. If I were to choose a group of people to fly off to a foreign country with, these would be the people. There are a few others I wish could be there with us and you all will be missed, but maybe next time.

I appreciate what Benji said tonight. I am stoked about returning home and getting to work with a new attitude and a new passion for the ministry. Something great is just a few weeks away and I am grateful to God that He is allowing me to be a part of it. His mercy never ceases to amaze me.

For those of you staying behind, I hope you know how much I love you all and want nothing less than God's best for you. Please don't worry too much about your loved ones as they are in God's care and His hand will be on us as we travel. Do not cease to pray for us while we are away because I can tell you from personal experience that those prayers are felt and treasured even 9000 miles away. The greatest excitement on a trip like this is the anticipation of coming home and sharing the stories with you who walk with us here.

Finally, I wish with all my heart that the whole JGen group was going along. The last ten months of Friday nights have been amazing and I can't imagine what things were like before. Take care of things while we're gone and, Lord willing, we'll be back in a few weeks with a renewed Spirit and passion.

I've had international roaming activated on my phone so if you just can't stand us being out of touch, feel free to call or text. Dial as normal, so I'm told. We'll be in touch, I'm calling it the "Homesick Hotline."

Check here for posts from Romania. Not that I'll have time but, hey, ya never know.

Adio. Te iubesc foarte mult.

Dumnezeu te mai ţine în siguranţă în timp ce noi suntem departe.

Let's see if I can remember how to do this...

I am welcoming myself back to bloggerland, twelve days after what should have been three days. The company I work for just happened to disconnect my internet service instead of transferring it. Geniuses.

This post could be filled with stories of moving, there are many. I could praise the great multitude of friends that helped me out in more ways than I could have imagined. I could go on and on about the endless frustrations that I have faced over the past two weeks and the non-stop marathon of physical labor that it took to vacate and make-ready the old house. Maybe some other time.

For the first time in about thirty-one years, there are no Carvers on Dreager Road. I say, "So be it." In fact, just today I signed over power-of-attorney to Ryan so that he can close the deal next week while I am in Romania. Yes, today is a landmark day.

And what's up with all of you "post-nots" these days? I take a blogging sabbatical for a week and the whole network falls apart. Surely your lives haven't become that boring. Get to typing, people! Sheesh.

I'll finish by saying that God is amazing. These past few weeks have been very hard on me as far as my daily walk is concerned. I let the busyness and distractions take me away from focusing on Him and this marvelous blessing He has given me. But He and I have been talking alot over the past few days and I'm getting some great ideas for JGen, the Frequency kids, and even Sunday School. There's alot to be said for down time, I guess.

Please pray for all of us during our trip. I feel a vibe about the trip that is similar to pre-DiscipleNow. I can't wait to experience it all with the students that are going.

And congratulations to Vanessa on her brand new J-O-B. She definitely earned it. Don't forget the little people, Ness.

Have a great Wednesday, y'all.

Last Post for a couple of days

This is for Benji, even though he probably won't see it. Tonight at church, he looked at me and said, "Hey, HEY, hey!" Then he asked me if I knew what show that came from. Duh.

When we were kids in the '80's, What's Happening was a hugely popular sitcom. It's similar to The Jeffersons or Good Times, or The Cosby Show, for the younger ones. The phrase was made famous by the character "Rerun," and yes, that's his name. So I asked Benji if I could do the Rerun dance which drew an emphatic, "NO!" from him. So here it is. Wait for it. It's around 1:17 in the clip above. It was hilarious then and still is, but maybe just because it reminds me of a time when humor was more innocent and laughs came a little easier. Enjoy.

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As the title proclaims, this will be my last post from Dreager Road (feel a little tear coming on, wait, no, my bad). Friday is moving day. And after all the stress and frustration, I am amazingly calm and peaceful about it. But, as always with my overly analytical mind, I have pondered the possibilities and determined the reasons for my quiescent state.

The bulk of my stress, I thought, was because of the enormous amount of physical labor involved in sorting, packing and rearranging my crap. But then I made a to-do list of all the phone calls I had to make to transfer or connect the utilities. The list scared me. The companies I had to call are some of the worst for long and un-productive wait times. AT&T, KUB, Comcast, KCUD, DirecTV, my stomach is churning again just mentioning them. After several failed attempts, I took my lunch hour today to try and tidy up this mess.

Smooth sailing. Not kidding. Every call went like clockwork, until I got to the water department.

"We need a lease agreement from the property owner, Mr. Carver."

"Can I fax it to you?"

"No. You have to come in and sign. And there will be a $110 connection fee."

(cough, cough, hack, blech) "A WHAT?!?!? FOR TURNING A SPIGOT IN THE FRONT YARD?!?!? (count to ten, breathe deep)

"Okay. Will that get my water on tomorrow?"

"We require 24 hours notice, Mr. Carver. If you come in tomorrow, it will be turned on Monday due to the holiday."

"24 hours notice to turn a water faucet in the yard, no indoor access is needed?"

"That's correct, Mr. Carver"

"HA, HA, HOOHAH. That's hilarious. Can I send someone over there today to do it for me?"

"No sir, Mr. Carver. It has to be the tenant."

"AARRRGGGHHH!!!" I hang up the phone, fighting off the tsunami of obscenities rolling through my brain.

So I start scheming. 1) need letter or lease agreement. 2) need to get there by 4:30. 3) should either one of these not happen, I have no water until Monday.

Light bulb in my head and "Alleluia Chorus" ringing in my ears.

I call Juli. She willingly agrees to type up a letter of authorization, which the property owner ok'd, and I can swing by Dr. Rick's office and pick it up right after work and proceed to KCUD. All of this goes off without a hitch and I will have water tomorrow.

So the point is: I am calm and peaceful now because the worst part of my move is done. And it is because of Juli, who saved my rear-end today and helped pack and brought me supper when I was too busy to eat. Ryan, who not only sold the house, but won an FHA dispute insuring that I sell for the original price and built a porch railing and a deck, helped move in a refrigerator, and kept assuring me that everything is going good and the deal will happen. V-baby, who dedicated an evening to come over and help pack up my hundred-thousand strong CD collection, even the uncomfortable ones, and Sarah, who took on the impossible task of the junk room, confronted my dark and sordid past, and overlooked the awkwardness of picking up certain things that I have kept. I am sure that before the weekend is over, many more thank you's will be required.

So I'll wrap up this last post with a heart-felt thank you and I love you to my friends, church family and blog followers. It has taken thirty something years for me to find people who care enough to lend a hand simply because they want to. I have moved five times in the last thirteen years. This is the first time I haven't had to do it alone.

On a funny note, I just removed another splinter from my chest. I keep finding the little suckers.

Funny how moving isn't just about a new home

So what do you do when you feel the desire for more God? I'm kinda there right now. I've seen and experienced God more in the past year or so than I ever imagined, but now I find myself wanting even more.

The lovely Miss Sarah visited me tonight to help out with my packing. Honestly, she's my favorite person on the planet, even though she laughed herself into suffocation because of my childhood pictures. Amazingly, my junk room is now cleaned out and ready to pack, a feat that I could not have accomplished alone considering I fell off a pole today. More on that in a minute. I exponentially thank you, Sarah. And your hair looks fantastic.

Sarah and I were talking and I was saying how I feel kind of stalled out right now. I usually feel discouraged by this but the more I talked about it and the more I think about it now, I think it's a good thing. I can't help but look back at the growth of this year, for me and the whole student group, and be thankful to God for loving me enough to continue to deepen our relationship, but also for allowing me to be part of the work He's doing at SCBC. But we can't stay there, right? We have to be moving. We have to take steps forward.

So I'm grateful for this desire to progress. It is frustrating at first to want to move forward without knowing the steps to take, but that will come. As we talked about earlier, staying focused on Him and committed to following Him is the key to progress.

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Yeah, so I got careless today. I was ascending a pole when I cut out and descended rather rapidly. That's twice in ten years. I've been lucky both times.

The first rule of pole-climbing is to push off when you fall. You NEVER hug the pole because you will burn all the skin off your arms and chest. Well guess what? I have raw meat exposed on my right arm and chest. If anyone wants my DNA sample, there's a streak of skin about twenty feet long on a pole in Holston Hills. And I landed with my knees locked, another faux pas. I think I'm an inch shorter tonight.

Let that be a lesson to all of you. Get plenty of rest or you'll burn the hide off your arms.

Update...(because I'm too tired to be creative)

For those of you who have been on the edge of your seat waiting to hear how my house sale and move are going, here's the latest. Somehow I get the feeling that most of you just hit your back button. Oh well.

This is hell week. Even with all the late nights and preparation for the impending move, I am still behind. It seems that the more I try to get ahead, the farther away the finish line moves. Here's an example:

Saturday was supposed to be a packing day. Instead, I spent the day with Ryan building a deck on the back of the house. FHA required some sort of landing off the back door, even though the insurance company was satisfied with a padlock. So we set forth to construct a small 4' x 4' balcony just to appease the gubment. Well, the buyers, who originally agreed to take the house pretty much "as is", decided they would like a more usuable space. So the small balcony turned into a full-blown deck, 8' x 8', which doubled the price of materials and the labor. Did I mention it was 375 degrees on Saturday? I guess I might as well remodel the whole dang house for them.

Don't poke the bear.

Moving on. Tonight, I left work and went to buy a refrigerator, delivered and installed the fridge, blew off a haircut appointment because of time constraints, finished the last piece of the immaculate deck, and retired inside to do some more packing. The good news is that I only have one room left to pack. The bad news is it is the back junk room. Aptly named.

Don't poke the bear.

In the midst of all of this physical exertion, I have the overwhelming task of transferring all utilities, getting renter's insurance, signing papers in advance because the closing date falls during our Romania trip, and trying to schedule myself to be available at the new place for installs and such. I have now arrived at the fabled place called Wit's End.

But today I realized something. I shared this with Juli and Ryan, who I think agreed. I now know what the Bible means when it speaks of a help meet. I think the original Hebrew translates, "it is not good for man to be alone because moving is too involved and time-consuming, so I will make him a help meet for him." People don't marry because of love, it's because no one is capable of doing crap like this alone. It takes two because there's too much to do.

Of course I'm joking! But I do think a rent-a-spouse business would really go for those in similar predicaments.

Please pray for my dwindling sanity.

And welcome to Jessie Mikles, who I just noticed as a new follower. Jessie, I promise not all my posts are this whiney and hateful. That doesn't mean they are good, though.

Happy Tuesday, y'all.

"I'm not the King, I just sing"

I apologize in advance for this because we will all hear enough about this without having to read my blog. But watching the news tonight has stirred me up.

Farrah Fawcett passed away. A " '70's Icon," according to the news networks. I remember her on Charlie's Angels when I was little. And the poster of her in the red one-piece swimsuit with her head tilted back and the wavy hair is said to be one of the most popular photographs of all time. For those of you too young to know, she really was a superstar back then, comparable to Britney or Beyonce now, I guess. But now she is dead.

And Michael Jackson, dead at 50. Every channel on television has this running on their little ticker at the bottom. They are touting his accomplishments, mourning the great loss of talent, and praising this greatest of entertainers, the so-called "King of Pop." He won 13 Grammys, sold over 750 million albums, including "Thriller," the best selling album of all-time. I still have a copy that I bought the week it was released in 1982. But now he is dead.

The media, the same media who dubbed him, "Wacko Jacko," dragged him through the mud over child-molestation allegations, and always picked apart his eccentricities and facial re-constructions, are now exalting him through watery eyes and downcast expressions.

Now let me get to the part that really gripes me. I am reminded of a song from maybe twenty years ago that is not really much of a song, but it has a great message. It was sung by some famous country singer, I think.

He was born in Massachusetts, in 1917

The second son of an Irishman, we all loved Kennedy.

He was brave and strong and handsome, a helluva president

But when he died, millions cried like he was heaven-sent.

Who did they think he was?

A child was born in Tupelo, in 1935

I'm grateful for his music, it forever changed my life.

We all love "Love Me Tender," and how that boy could sing

But when he died, I wondered why millions called him king.

Tell me, who did they think he was?

There was a child of heaven, born in Bethlehem

just a simple carpenter with worn and calloused hands.

He healed the hearts of many, so they nailed him to a tree

With no one there to mourn his death but the women at his feet, crying

"Who did they think He was, tell me, who did they think He was?"

There was no one there to grieve but the women at his feet, crying, "Who did they think He was?"

I was five years old when Elvis died. The reaction was similar to this only much, much bigger. He died at the top, and very suddenly. I guess I've just never understood the glorifying of a celebrity. To me they are just people whose name we all know. MJ did some cool stuff, especially the "Thriller" video, but I almost puked when I heard Celine Dion say, "When we are talking about the death of a great talent like this, it is much more tragic and harder to accept."

No it isn't.

I'm definitely not trying to downplay the death of anyone. I am very sorry for Papa Joe, Janet, LaToya, Jermaine, Tito, Marlon, Randy, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen, and whoever else is affected by this. But MJ was just a man. Those Grammys aren't doing him any good now.

I think Michael Jackson is a good representation of what we call "the world." Follow me, here. He started out young and quickly grew to be successful. In his older years, he achieved a whole new level of success and stardom, but look what it did to him. The weirdness, the criminal allegations, the constant changing to try and become something else. He may have found notoriety and wealth, which he squandered, but he lost himself and everything he gave to achieve his place.

Success is a mirage. It demands that you give everything to attain it, and the closer you come to where it is, the farther away it gets, finally vanishing and leaving nothing, but taking everything.

Maybe I'm just old and grizzled, but I get sick and tired of a world that edifies a complete whack-job who sings pretty, but persecutes and slanders the Savior of all mankind. It's not difficult to see why the morality of our nation is non-existent. Mourners will cry their eyes out and faint and swoon from grief over the next few weeks, grief for someone they never knew, and who never did anything worthwhile, except organize "We Are the World."

They cared about his latest releases, his concerts and tours, clearing his name after the trials, and pretty much any public thing he said or did. They cared about worshipping him.

But do any of them care that he's probably in Hell right now?

This is the first thing I thought of when I heard Geraldo proclaim the king dead. And it's a good teaser for tonight.

Dang. Best segue ever.

Home hasn't been where my heart is, or was. Or whatever.

This is what happens when a part-time stay-at-home mom has too much time on her hands. Juli decided to bake a cake while feeling a little adventurous, and the result is a chocolate cake with blue icing. It reads, "Eat Me. Mmmm." I can picture her laughing and snorting all alone in the kitchen.

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I would like to thank Virginia, Ryan, and Juli for coming over tonight to hang out and help me with my new favorite sport -- extreme packing. Others of you have volunteered and don't worry, I'll be more than happy to give you an opportunity in the coming week.

But there is a thought that I had tonight that concerns me. While waiting for those three to arrive, I happened to think about the people who have crossed my doorstep since I have lived here. Specifically, my close friends and family at Stock Creek.

It's sad. I have been at Stock Creek for almost six years. I have friends now that are closer and more special to me than any I have ever known. But I haven't really been a hospitable kind of guy.

Heather, Ryan and Juli have been here the most, too many times to count. Sarah and Spenser have been here five or six times. Virginia, once, counting tonight. And Jason and Valerie stopped by for a quick minute about a year ago. That's it as far as our crew goes. Occasional drop-ins like Bernie and Teri and the Snapps, and Ed Frahme who visited me and brought my gift basket after my first visit to the church. I would dare say that most of you don't even know where this place is and that is my fault. It's not that I don't want people around, I just haven't been much of an entertainer.

This little bit of information bothers me. So I have determined to treat my new place as a gathering place with an open-door policy. It's open to anyone at any time, no advanced notice required. I hope to host a Bible study of sorts there, or at least a discussion/God-talk time. That's alot of my motivation for moving in the first place, to have a home suitable for having people over for coffee, sandwiches, or tea and crumpets. So I'm counting on my movers to help me make it a welcoming environment.

Let me add something here. Dang, this place looks empty. The furniture is still in place but with the CD's and DVD's boxed up and the bookshelves bare, it feels like a ghost-town. Nothing on the walls, the cabinets are empty and the cupboard is bare. Doesn't feel like my place anymore. That's okay, though. Forward progress.

Oh! I almost forgot something very important. I owe Virginia. She ragged on me all night, so I need to mention how she kept knocking things over with her butt. I am vindicated.

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Kudos to Heather who understood my reference to opposable thumbs in yesterday's post. It's from an episode of "Friends" so of course she knew it. And she managed to find the episode on youtube, something I tried to do but failed. You can watch it here.

If Charles Darwin had worked with me today, he would have changed his mind.

If life truly is like a box of chocolates, then mine must be a Whitman sampler.

I worked in the 'hood today. The 'hood. We actually work over that way alot but today I encountered something that left me with one of those stoned out, dazed and confused looks on my face. But then I laughed, uncontrollably, for half an hour.

The location was N. Castle Street, between E. Fifth Avenue and Woodbine Avenue. At lunchtime, I always try to find a shady spot to park in because my work truck is not air-conditioned. Les Miserables, by the way. So today I parked at the dead-end of Castle where there is a gate leading up to "Tiger Tops."

Yes, that would be the rear of the Knoxville Zoo, Gate 9, to be precise. The rear entrance, marked "Danger!" "Employees and Authorized Personnel Only!", is half a block from a residential neighborhood. Did you catch that? Let me re-phrase:

800-pound, predatory felines reside 1500 feet from small children and elderly ladies!!!

That is astonishing, or to quote, "That's asenine." But the large, carnivorous, African cats, a.k.a. "Kings of the jungle," are not the story today.

When lunch-time started, I needed to make a few calls. So I stepped out of the truck and proceeded to make said calls. I don't stand still, for those of you unfamiliar with me. I pace. I ended up leaning against the zoo's fence while I talked on the phone. All of a sudden, and without warning, I found myself standing here. At least it sounded like it.

I'm no Sherlock Holmes but it sounded to me like the barrier between the tigers' cage and the monkeys' cage must have collapsed. I watched the news but didn't see anything about it. Every single monkey/chimpanzee/orangutan/gorilla in the zoo started screaming at once. Not kidding, y'all. The Great Primate War has begun (Opposable thumbs!).

My phone conversation quickly deteriorated. Scientific fact: a human voice cannot overcome the volume of thirty or so pissed off missing links. The noise was unbelievable. You know the sound a monkey makes. Well, that's what I heard, but apparently through a Peavey sound system. And it seems to me that lions and tigers do not care for the sound of primates in unison. So they joined in with growls and roars. It was a completely chaotic symphony of the African savannah -- in the Knoxville ghetto.

So I put my phone away and stood there amazed at what I was hearing. The more I listened, the harder I laughed. Not sure why it was funny but it was. The harshness of the cacophony soon gave way to an enjoyment of hearing something so totally foreign to me. There was a beauty to it, mostly because it's not the usual dogs barking that I hear everyday. It was kind of other-worldly to stand there and be completely surrounded by the sound of it all.

And what would a good jungle safari story be without a little, "Alrighty, then!"