New Blog On The Block

I have an announcement to make. Miss Kathryn (not 'Katherine'!), is the newest and proudest member of the Blogoshere! The best blog commenter the world has ever seen has decided to get her feet wet and play in the big leagues. Last Sunday night I got the honor and privilege of babysitting her 2 rascals, Alex & Michael. If today is not your first visit, you most likely have read some posts about these boys and other children in my beautiful church. They are pretty much amazing. They are fun, energetic, and always moving full-speed ahead. They love Jesus Christ in a way that is pure and uncomplicated. Their faith is simply sweet and gloriously childlike. It is Matthew 18:4-5.

Back to the babysitting story. Following night church stuff, their mom bravely handed the reins and responsibility of these kiddos over to me and my bud Joe. They were hungry. They were not ready for sleep. So I did what every great American does when faced with hungry and hyper children: the Golden Arches! Tummies were filled, fun was had, and the nutritionally balanced Kids' Meals helped sedate their jittery hyperness. Sort of.

Just before they hit their pillows, Alex (the one who can't decide whether nuggets are his friend or foe) said he'd like to say the prayer before night-night. It was so good (so so good!) that after the 'Amen' I went into the kitchen and scribbled down everything I could remember. Here's the transcript:

Jesus.
Thank you for Michael.
Thank you for me.
Thank you for Kevin.
Thank you for Joe-be.
ha. ha.
I said "Joe-be."
Thank you for chicken nuggets.
Thank you for drinks.
Thank you for Daddo-Deedo*.
Thank you for today.
Thank you for blanket and pillows.
Amen!

*When he said "Daddo-Deedo", I almost lost it. I almost died of laughter. I had not a clue who this "Daddo-Deedo" character was (apparently he is an imaginary friend), but it was hysterical. The way his soft little voice busted out in a Spanish accent for those two words was indescribable! I am seriously laughing out loud as I type this. Every time I see Alex, I now ask him how his imaginary friend is doing, and then pretend to forget his name so Alex can remind me.

Let The Games Begin

Mom. Aren't you proud? Your eldest son is all grown up and looking all spiffy in his handsome suit! I caved in. I fought a valiant fight for the past 3.25 years. I tried my bestest to ignore the future. I tried to advert my eyes from the steps I'd take after crossing that graduation stage. I gave it all I had, but I broke under the pressure.

I am officially job hunting. I wish hunting implied I could dress in camo overalls, grab a rifle, and shoot wild paychecks, but it doesn't. It actually means quite the opposite. It involves trying to plan the first major step of the rest of your life, all the while finishing school and working part-time. It involves sucking up/bragging about yourself to people you've never met, and most likely will never meet again. It involves throwing down a bunch of money on your very first suit. It involves special resume paper with higher quality cotton than your typical t-shirt. This whole process is a funny and perplexing thing, really.

Last week I had my first big-time/real-deal interview with...Target. Yup. A retailer for middle-age, middle-class moms. The job itself - to my defense - is a little more manly. The position they are seaching to fill is a Distribution Center Operations Team Leader. Pretty much it's an assistant manager spot in the big building where China stuff flows in and fine Target merchandise flows out.

The interview went as well as I assumed my first serious, corporate one would. I didn't pee myself. Afterwards, I took my car atop the West Campus Garage in order to document this momentous occasion. The day was beautiful and I had some fun. But I best be going. I probably need to proof-read my resume again, or something.

Bunch of Bologne

I think I have found the most miserable/mind-numbing class at A&M. And I am enrolled in it. The class is ACCT 467. It's title is "Business Ethics", and it has nothing to do with accounting. And it really doesn't have much do do with ethics either (unless you mean moral universalism). It is more along the lines of Gibberish 101. Unfortunately, some Dean in some corner office of the Business school decided to make this fine class mandatory for all B.B.A. students. Though my precious brain cells are slaughtered in masses as I sit in class, I do get some good laughs.
I copied down a PowerPoint slide from this week for your enjoyment. If any of you can decipher this gem of knowledge, post a comment and shed some light for the rest of us.

"When we speak, we are afraid our words will not be heard, nor welcomed;
but when we are silent, we are still afraid.
So it is better to speak,
Remembering that we were never meant to survive at all."
-Andre Lorde

I haven't a clue.

Clifford: The Big Dead Dog

So here I am. Walking down the sidewalk outside my apartment complex. It's late at night, and I'm out for a walk with Jesus. I'm talking to Him and we're hanging out and whatnot. Simultaneously, as I hear footsteps running towards me, I catch a dark blur in my peripheral vision. I snap my head to the right and behold a huge black dog sprinting straight across the road. He is coming right stinking at me, and he looks hungry. More hungry than I feel comfortable with. In that split-second, before I even had time to decide whether I would be a man (kick the dog in his drooly face) or be a sissy (enter into fetal position & cry mommy), the most remarkable of things happened.

A car smashed into the beast. It absolutely T-boned him. And I'm not even kidding! I knew y'all would have the hardest time believing such a story, so I did some Photoshop illustrating to convey my seriousness. The 40 mi./hr. bumper took hold of that dog and gave him one lick of a beating. "Yeeelllpppppp!," writhed the dog in pain. It was all slow-mo. I could not believe what was happening! The car just happened to be there at the identical moment the dog choose to have me for dinner. It was unreal! Clifford did flips and tumbles in-front of that bumper until the tire screeching stopped. Dead dog.

But no! No? No! The dog sprang up, gave out one last yelp (probably expressing polite dissatisfaction with the driver) and ran like a scared cat back down the side-street from where he came. It was remarkable. I just stood there wide-eyed, trying to process everything that happened in that 2-second snippet of my life. It was exilerating and sad and awesome. All at the same time. Clifford, I fare the well.
Look both ways next time.

Disciple Now (Not Later)

Sugar Land, the booming king of everything suburbia, was the weekend destination of me and my bud Joe. The occasion was a middle school D-Now at a church smack dab in the middle of my hometown turf. Joe and I were the leaders of 20 young lads, me 8th graders and Joe 7th. Prior to this week, I was a "D-Now virgin," a rare breed that is almost unheard of in the Texan Bible-belt. I had never participated in one, much less lead one, but the Disciple Now went as smoothly as 48 hours with an unfamiliar youth ministry could. For you who don't know, a D-Now (as far as I know) is a weekend retreat for kids (and friends of kids) in that church's youth ministry. The goal is to tell kids about Jesus. And because these boys all have A.D.D. (read: act like boys) and are in the earliest stages of puberty (read: hormone hell), the goal of teaching Jesus is supported/distracted by football, Dr. Pepper, farting, sleeping bags, wrastlin', pizza, Shipley's, shouting, voice cracking, not sleeping/showering, and the like.

Through the madness that is 10 kids/one leader/one host home, God did show up and show out. And he did so in stunning ways, the kind where he gets all the glory and credit. I was as incapable and inadequate as it gets. I had no time to prepare lessons. I had no partner. I had no prior relationships with any of the boys. I essentially had a group of guys, a living room floor, and a sub-par curriculum to follow. And by follow I mean not follow, because the watered-down Gospel and cheesy illustrations that book contained would have left us all sprawled out on the lawn like the morning after a Koolaid-Cult party.

But, as I said early, the Lord met with us that weekend and did some amazing seed-planting in the hearts of these kids. He used this experience to grow me and teach me. The Lord opened my eyes even wider to the battlefield that is youth ministry. I learned anew how inseparable relationship building and preaching Christ are. And I saw how Biblically ignorant and spiritually lost today's youth are. I expected a weekend of both highs and lows; blessings and rough spots. There were, and that's normal. But in hindsight, my thesis from the weekend is simple: God is good, and God is sovereign. His love is perfect. His ways (timing and all) is soverign. He is not bound by the stupid little cardboard boxes we try to put him in. We should stop such foolishness, and put our cardboard boxes to better use. Like building sweet forts for Nerf wars.

Photo note: We went bowling at a really ghetto alley in downtown. It was the only thing ghetto about the whole weekend, other than the obsessive use of the word "scrub" by my boys. Please never ever use that word in my presence.

Splendor

I visited Lake Bryan last week for some BBQ'n. We had delish "hobo burgers" and enjoyed some underwater bicycle riding. Yea, I'd never seen such a thing in my life! To top it off, I was blessed to set my eyes and camera upon this glory.

"May the Lord bless you and keep you;
the Lord make his face to shine upon
you and be gracious to you;
the Lord lift up his countenance upon
you and give you peace."

- Numbers 6 (Aaron's blessing)

Can Somebody Help Me Find My Electricity?

I've come to the stark realization that I am far too dependant on electricity. It's amazing, really. You can't get on-line, toast bread, listen to music, or microwave a cat. Our America would literally keel over and die if the Big Plug was pulled. As of this afternoon, College Station has decided to unplug itself and shut down. No power. No nothing. Just thousands of college students running around like headless chickens.
At first I thought my apartment was the only one affected. Then, after talking with my neighbor, I thought our complex was the only one affected. As the lack of A/C and light continued to wear on me, I hopped on my bike and headed to campus. I figured I'd go do some good ol' reading in the Flag Room. Oh contraire! While en route I discovered that all the city's electricity was on a hiatus. No street lamps. No traffic signals. No lit-up windows. Classes were let out premeturely and busnisses shut down, leaving a hefty number of people standing outside doing a hefty amount of nothing. Most sat on the sidewalk. Others walked here and there, using their illuminated phones or laptop monitors as flashlights.
Around the 4th hour of darkness I ended up in my brother's dorm room. He, I, and a couple friends sat around. We couldn't really see one another, but we could tell old childhood stories and eat beef jerky. So that we did. It was one of those odd get-together moments that would never normally occur, but when it does, a great memory is made. Cheers to all who persevered through the Great Power Outage of 2006.

Note to College Station Utilities:
You owe me 3/4 of a gallon of milk, a package of turkey, 19 squares of cheese, and a dozen eggs.