To my thousands of passionate readers across the globe I want to let you know that my blog has now moved to wordpress as a result of consultation from my lovely wife. If you would like to continue following the rants, stories from my childhood and extremely long hunting reports you can join me at www.mybeardedthoughts.wordpress.com.
Hope you are well!
Matt
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
My Elk Story
On Sunday morning September 12th I departed Savannah airport with two friends from Bluffton for a week of elk hunting in Colorado. Specifically, we would be hunting the mountains and valleys around Steamboat Springs. During this time of year the elk are mating and therefore moving more freely than any other time in the year. To make things interesting we would be hunting national forest accessible to the public, without a guide and very deep into the forest where few other people would make the effort to access.
Joining me on the trip would be my friend Chris Burden who is currently living in Bluffton, SC but spent the last four years living in Steamboat Springs and managing a development project there. Chris was our elk hunting knowledge for the week and would be showing us around the Northwest Colorado backcountry. Jason Hewitt also joined us for the week. Jason is a professional land manager who works to create exceptional habitats and hunting properties for private landowners across Georgia and South Carolina. Finally, Josh Drake joined us for the trip which was his second hunting trip with Chris and I following our Nebraska turkey hunt last spring. Josh is a professional photographer who has done amazing work throughout the US and internationally and has an incredible ability to tell a story through his images.
After quite a long day of travel including a six hour flight from Savannah to Charlotte that included a layover in the Redneck Riviera we finally arrived in Denver realizing that we would miss our final flight to Steamboat. Being the anxious hunters we were and knowing that we needed to get our bows sighted in we decided to rent a car and travel the last portion of the journey by car. Three bearded men, weapons, lots of camo...and a Dodge Caravan all bound for the high country.
We arrived that evening in Steamboat and headed straight for Wal Mart where we could purchase our archery elk tags. A mere $542 later per person, we had our out of state elk tags and the ability to pursue the animal that for me personifies the American West.
Next stop was the Victorian. The Victorian is a well recognized home on Steamboat Mountain and it was purchased by Chris’s company to entertain prospective buyers in their new resort development. Over the course of the week the Victorian became known as the "Hunt Mansion" and was a great fit for all of us. Im sure it probably wouldnt be for everyone though as it is commonly known as the most haunted house in Steamboat with plenty of stories tied to it.
After a tombstone pizza and a beer we hit the sack to soak up a few hours of rest. Next thing I knew it was 330am and time to grab breakfast and begin our hike up Emerald Mountain. I must say that our first little hike up the mountain almost gave me a heart attack and left me wondering exactly what I had just gotten myself into. That morning we stood in the dark at the top of a ridge listening for the first bull elk to bugle and give us an idea which direction we should be moving. At around 6am I heard my first elk bugle in the wild and knew that the week was going to be exciting. We hunted Emerald for the rest of that day and heard and saw elk throughout the morning and late that afternoon. While we didnt get too close to any of them it was a comfortable way to break into the week.
The next morning we awoke at 3am and prepared for what would be a grueling morning on the mountain. At around 4am we piled into the Tundra and made way toward the trail head that would lead us to the gondola station on the ski mountain. For the next two hours we proceeded to hike uphill in the dark, each of us wondering (except Chris) exactly when we would reach our destination. That hike provided some of the most amazing views of the city of Steamboat still asleep in those early morning hours. It also provided some moments of frustration and exhaustion as our bodies were still adapting to the incline and altitude.
Around 6:15am we arrived at the Gondola station and made a sharp cut toward Rabbit Ears Pass on a mountain bike trail. That trail eventually led us to an intersection of ski runs where elk were grazing and one bull was traveling with his cows. Slowly, we made our way down to the base of that intersection and on into the woods directly downhill from where we had last seen the elk. Once we entered the woods that morning the rest of the day was spent off trail, bushwhacking our way through the thick forest. Game trails provided occasional ease to our steps but more often than not it was simply a matter of picking a direction and traversing the terrain.
Not very far into our hike we heard a bull bugling at what sounded like less than 200 yards away. If you have never heard an elk bugle in person it is a chilling experience. That feeling is intensified when you are in dark timber, early in the morning, and the volume of his scream is indicative of his size and temper. As he continued to bugle, Chris began making calls to increase his interest and try to draw him closer to us. At the same time, Jason and I began inching forward to positions where we could get a clear shot.
During that inching forward process I began to feel very uneasy about the whole situation. This was unlike any other hunting I had ever done in that the animal was a great deal larger than I am in country that was very unfamiliar to me. As I got positioned on a well worn game trail I took notice of my surroundings only to find bear claws worn into the tree I stood leaning against and a sizable elk wallow directly below me. With every new and louder bugle my heart rose higher in my throat and I began to play out every scenario in my head that could happen. Is he going to storm in looking for a fight? Will he come from above me and will I have a shot? Will he come down the trail in front of me? If he does I wont have a shot until he is less than 5 yards ahead of me. It was in the midst of those thoughts that I had the realization that maybe elk hunting wasnt for me. Maybe this was a little too intense and I should just return to fly fishing or turkey hunting.
After waiting for him to close the distance we realized that he wasnt budging. He was clearly a dominant bull and had done this once or twice so he was going to make us come to him. We realized that we would have to move quickly and so we did. As Jason pushed up the mountain to within 80 yards I suddenly realized that another bull was running directly up the mountain to our location. I moved forward to within 50 yards of where the new bull was breaking timber after getting thigh deep in a mud hole and positioned myself once again to make a shot. For the next 30 minutes we were within 100 yards of two different bulls but we never saw either of them and they each silenty disappeared into the timber like ghosts.
By the time this stalk was over it was 10:30am and we realized we were deep into the woods and far from the trail. As a result, we decided to bushwhack our way down the mountain and find a resting point to sit out the middle of the day. The bushwhacking descent was enough to test all of our nerves and by the time we found some shade in an aspen grove it was time shut our eyes for a bit.
Around 4pm I awoke to the sound of bugle just down the hill from us and within minutes we were all ready to move. Not long into our hike the bugle got louder and the next thing we knew Jason was at full draw on a bull coming directly up the trail. Unfortunately, the bull must have sensed something was wrong and disappeared from sight leaving us with a clear trail back to the Steamboat city limits.
On our way up the last ridge we heard a bugle coming from one of the lowest points we had seen all day. While it was tempting to head for the house and a cold bourbon, Chris and I decided to move quickly and see if we could get a response. As we moved we would stop every 50-70 yards and do a quick call to locate the bull and make sure we werent right on top of him. Once we got to the creekbed we knew he couldnt be far so we set up and began to call. I was around 20 yards in front of Chris and directly in between him and the bull so that hopefully I could cut him off in case he came in.
As Chris kept calling the bugles got louder and then the tell tale branches breaking started to close in. Just as the branches began to move at the top of the creekbank the bull appeared and walked directly downhill to me at a spot that I had ranged at 51 yards. This was the first time I had seen a bull that I had heard bugling and in many ways it was calming to see what was on the other end of that screaming. The bull was incredible looking with a tight summer coat and antlers that were more long than they were wide.
In hunting you know that trophy animals dont get old by being stupid and I think this bull had been around long enough to know something was going on. Though he hung around for a while he never got closer than 51 yards and that was simply a shot I didnt feel comfortable with. In all the madness of the bull coming in I had barely paid attention to the cow elk that was now standing just 15 yards in front of me wondering what was crouched down in the grass and staring so intently at the bull behind her. She got a free pass.
For the next several days we continued to hunt hard. To be honest, I dont know if you could hunt any harder than we did. Every day we covered at least 10 miles of Colorado backcountry and let the elk give direction to our steps. Every night we came home exhausted and after a quick meal and beer we would head to bed knowing that we were going to have to get up and do it all over again. By the end of the week I had lost enthusiasm and I began to wake up feeling very resentful toward everyone and everything.
On the morning of Saturday the 18th I was so tired it took me 10 minutes just to figure out where I was when my alarm went off at 345am. I jumped in the shower and went downstairs to assess whether any of my comrades had joined me in waking up to find out that I was the only one in the house awake. As I pondered letting everyone sleep in, Andrew (a new addition to the team) came up the stairs dressed and ready to go. I broke the news to him that Josh was flying out at noon and that Jason and Chris were still asleep knowing that I was getting ready to have to light a fire under everyone so that we could put in one last day of hunting.
There's nothing worse than waking up before 5am and already feeling rushed. Unfortunately for Jason and Chris thats exactly what happened. A couple pieces of cold pizza and two cups of strong coffee and we were back in the Tundra headed toward a piece of land that Andrew had hunted the night before with some success but showed signs of even greater potential.
Around 6am we pulled onto a dirt road with tire ruts big enough to bottom out any stock truck on the market. After parking illegally on a rancher's access road we hopped out and started up the trail to the public land. No more than 90 seconds after being there we heard a huge bugle and we all knew it would likely be an interesting morning.
After crossing the first ridge and getting high on the second we heard activity behind us and quickly retraced our steps to get setup down in the low area that was holding some water. As soon as we got low enough to begin calling Jason was set up to my right and I was standing on the edge of a pine tree. Within seconds a cow elk came sprinting down the hill in front of us followed by a loud huffing sound that turned out to be a huge bull corralling her. The bull only had one side of his rack but he was clearly a dominant bull and he proceeded to chase her in circles for 45 seconds and then right back up the hill.
That all took place about 70 yards from me and was exciting but before we knew it the hill erupted again directly in front of us and once again elk were pouring off the hill and directly to Jason. Two spike bulls came first and were then followed by two cows, one of which walked inside of 10 yards from Jason. As I continued to watch the scene unfold I saw a 5x5 bull walk directly Jason's right. Once the bull presented a clean shot Jason drew back and made a shot which hit farther back than he wanted but would later prove to have been deadly.
Once the animals made their way out of the area we re-grouped, gave our congrats to Jason and began calming our nerves after all that had taken place. I thought it was awfully ironic that the one hunt that Josh hadnt joined us on was our only productive hunt of the trip so I texted him to let him know that if he wanted to change his flight we might have a couple extra pictures for him to take. Within seconds he responded and began re-working his travel plans which allowed him to join us just two hours later.
Here is where my hunt begins.
We knew that based on the activity we had seen that morning we would likely have some success pushing farther into the woods. After about 15 minutes we left Jason to sit and wait for 2 hours before looking for his bull and we ascended the next peak. Once on top of the peak it was clear that our assumptions were right as we could hear at least 3 different bulls bugling; one to the left, one straight ahead and one to the right.
The loudest one seemed to be to the left so we took off in pursuit of him. Our chase led us to another creek bottom at the base of a ridge with some great elk sign. This was once again one of those bulls who's bugle will make you feel uncomfortable inside and like the one before we got close but we were never able to see him.
On our way back to meet Jason we heard yet another bull light up on the hillside and while Andrew was ready to head back, Chris and I decided it was worth giving it a shot since it was my last day. So once again we put out our radar and began following the sound of that elk directly to the base of the ridge to assess how high on the hill he probably was. At times, the volume is very deceptive and this was one of those times. Every time we thought we were getting closer we realized we still needed to climb more to get right in on top of him if we were going to have a chance to seal the deal.
One thing that I learned in elk hunting this fall is that if you are not uncomfortably close to the elk before you start calling you are probably not going to get a shot...at least not with the bow. When you are chasing after one that is at a stalemate you will hit your point of discomfort where every inch forward seems like a mile and that is where we got to with this bull.
Once we arrived in the "discomfort zone" Chris stayed back and I began my slow stalk into the bulls personal space. Without a whole lot of cover I got set up just to the right of a large rock and behind a limb that was slightly taller than I am. From my position I had large pine trees in front of me at about 18 yards and a clear shot range that stayed that distance from my 11 o'clock to my 6 o'clock. From my position I could also see through the pine trees directly to a large tree that was shaking violently as a result of grown elk antlers raking across it.
As I sat and watched the tree shake I heard Chris let out a cow call from behind me and the tree went still. The next minute went by in slow motion as I watched the bull pick up his head and begin walking directly toward me. I will probably never in my life forget watching that 800lb 6x6 bull and those wide antlers come walking through the pine trees directly in front of me.
The moment before he split the pines I drew my bow back and readied for the shot. Once he crossed through the pines he turned broadside and began moving to my right. As he moved so did I as I swung my body to line up for the shot. Seconds later he cleared any obstacle brush and I let the arrow fly to a point on his body which was exactly center vertically and 4 inches behind the crease in his shoulder. Once the arrow made contact I watched it disappear and I knew that the shot was perfect...literally within an inch of where I was aiming.
Not knowing exactly what had happened the elk took several steps up the hill, changed his direction and I saw the exit wound. I could not have been more excited that not only had the arrow gone where it was placed but I had gotten a full pass through and there was no way he could survive the shot. The bull stayed on the trail, disoriented and staring in my direction trying to decipher what had happened. In that moment I was very thankful for the opportunity to do what I had done and extremely thankful for the shot placement.
As I stood there watching him trying to remain calm I heard the sound of crashing up and down trees behind me. I soon realized that there were 3 bears at about 50 yards moving in my direction. As a result I had to adjust my position to make sure the bears were aware of my presence. My movement caused the big bull to start walking away though he was clearly moving slowly and not alarmed.
That was at 1015am and when I sat down I could hardly believe what had just happened. I was overwhelmed with excitement but more than anything I was ecstatic about the shot which had also been seen by Andrew. I knew that I had hit exactly where I wanted to and there was no doubt...NONE...that he was dead within 100 yards of where he was shot. So I sat and tried to be patient and give him his time knowing that I would soon go to claim the elk that I had worked very, very hard for.
The short version of this very long story is that after nearly 30 man hours of searching we never found my bull. We scowered that hillside, two ridges, the drainage on both sides of the spine and the creekbed only to come up with nothing.
As I write this I just got off the phone with Chris who is still in Colorado. He spoke with another seasoned elk hunter who knows the situation all too well. We all know that the elk is dead but the chances of finding him are slim to none. Even a bull that is hit well is still a rugged, strong animal made to take a lot and keep moving to places where he will never be discovered.
To say the very least I am disappointed though that is hardly a word that can describe the frustration I have been dealing with for the past five days. I have spent plenty of my life hunting but I have never worked that hard only to lose the hunt in the last second over a shot that was perfectly placed. My mind cant really get around that and its probably because it seems like its lacking some sense of justice. I did all that work, put in all those miles, practiced the shot hundreds of times and that elk should have been laying exactly where I thought he was.
I have played out the situation hundreds of times in my head and each time I struggle to find what I could have done differently. Its a miserable feeling to constantly analyze something that you did well and force yourself to find fault in it but thats where Ive found myself.
While I didnt return with my elk I did return with a whole new appreciation for hunting, the mountains, the outdoors, my physical competence and the guys I shared the experience with. I also gained an appreciation for the elk and what strong and intense animals they are. This was definitely the kind of trip that will teach you a little bit about yourself and I learned plenty.
If anyone asked me if they should try elk hunting I would tell them that if you're going to do it yourself on public land with no guide then you had better be prepared. You should prepare to be in great shape and you will still get your ass kicked. You should be prepared mentally for the long days and the fact that you will have to concentrate on making a shot when an 800lb horned animal is coming in for a fight. You should also prepare emotionally for exactly what I went through that even when you think that everything went perfectly it might not have and all of your hard work may still send you home empty handed.
Awesome trip.
Joining me on the trip would be my friend Chris Burden who is currently living in Bluffton, SC but spent the last four years living in Steamboat Springs and managing a development project there. Chris was our elk hunting knowledge for the week and would be showing us around the Northwest Colorado backcountry. Jason Hewitt also joined us for the week. Jason is a professional land manager who works to create exceptional habitats and hunting properties for private landowners across Georgia and South Carolina. Finally, Josh Drake joined us for the trip which was his second hunting trip with Chris and I following our Nebraska turkey hunt last spring. Josh is a professional photographer who has done amazing work throughout the US and internationally and has an incredible ability to tell a story through his images.
After quite a long day of travel including a six hour flight from Savannah to Charlotte that included a layover in the Redneck Riviera we finally arrived in Denver realizing that we would miss our final flight to Steamboat. Being the anxious hunters we were and knowing that we needed to get our bows sighted in we decided to rent a car and travel the last portion of the journey by car. Three bearded men, weapons, lots of camo...and a Dodge Caravan all bound for the high country.
We arrived that evening in Steamboat and headed straight for Wal Mart where we could purchase our archery elk tags. A mere $542 later per person, we had our out of state elk tags and the ability to pursue the animal that for me personifies the American West.
Next stop was the Victorian. The Victorian is a well recognized home on Steamboat Mountain and it was purchased by Chris’s company to entertain prospective buyers in their new resort development. Over the course of the week the Victorian became known as the "Hunt Mansion" and was a great fit for all of us. Im sure it probably wouldnt be for everyone though as it is commonly known as the most haunted house in Steamboat with plenty of stories tied to it.
After a tombstone pizza and a beer we hit the sack to soak up a few hours of rest. Next thing I knew it was 330am and time to grab breakfast and begin our hike up Emerald Mountain. I must say that our first little hike up the mountain almost gave me a heart attack and left me wondering exactly what I had just gotten myself into. That morning we stood in the dark at the top of a ridge listening for the first bull elk to bugle and give us an idea which direction we should be moving. At around 6am I heard my first elk bugle in the wild and knew that the week was going to be exciting. We hunted Emerald for the rest of that day and heard and saw elk throughout the morning and late that afternoon. While we didnt get too close to any of them it was a comfortable way to break into the week.
The next morning we awoke at 3am and prepared for what would be a grueling morning on the mountain. At around 4am we piled into the Tundra and made way toward the trail head that would lead us to the gondola station on the ski mountain. For the next two hours we proceeded to hike uphill in the dark, each of us wondering (except Chris) exactly when we would reach our destination. That hike provided some of the most amazing views of the city of Steamboat still asleep in those early morning hours. It also provided some moments of frustration and exhaustion as our bodies were still adapting to the incline and altitude.
Around 6:15am we arrived at the Gondola station and made a sharp cut toward Rabbit Ears Pass on a mountain bike trail. That trail eventually led us to an intersection of ski runs where elk were grazing and one bull was traveling with his cows. Slowly, we made our way down to the base of that intersection and on into the woods directly downhill from where we had last seen the elk. Once we entered the woods that morning the rest of the day was spent off trail, bushwhacking our way through the thick forest. Game trails provided occasional ease to our steps but more often than not it was simply a matter of picking a direction and traversing the terrain.
Not very far into our hike we heard a bull bugling at what sounded like less than 200 yards away. If you have never heard an elk bugle in person it is a chilling experience. That feeling is intensified when you are in dark timber, early in the morning, and the volume of his scream is indicative of his size and temper. As he continued to bugle, Chris began making calls to increase his interest and try to draw him closer to us. At the same time, Jason and I began inching forward to positions where we could get a clear shot.
During that inching forward process I began to feel very uneasy about the whole situation. This was unlike any other hunting I had ever done in that the animal was a great deal larger than I am in country that was very unfamiliar to me. As I got positioned on a well worn game trail I took notice of my surroundings only to find bear claws worn into the tree I stood leaning against and a sizable elk wallow directly below me. With every new and louder bugle my heart rose higher in my throat and I began to play out every scenario in my head that could happen. Is he going to storm in looking for a fight? Will he come from above me and will I have a shot? Will he come down the trail in front of me? If he does I wont have a shot until he is less than 5 yards ahead of me. It was in the midst of those thoughts that I had the realization that maybe elk hunting wasnt for me. Maybe this was a little too intense and I should just return to fly fishing or turkey hunting.
After waiting for him to close the distance we realized that he wasnt budging. He was clearly a dominant bull and had done this once or twice so he was going to make us come to him. We realized that we would have to move quickly and so we did. As Jason pushed up the mountain to within 80 yards I suddenly realized that another bull was running directly up the mountain to our location. I moved forward to within 50 yards of where the new bull was breaking timber after getting thigh deep in a mud hole and positioned myself once again to make a shot. For the next 30 minutes we were within 100 yards of two different bulls but we never saw either of them and they each silenty disappeared into the timber like ghosts.
By the time this stalk was over it was 10:30am and we realized we were deep into the woods and far from the trail. As a result, we decided to bushwhack our way down the mountain and find a resting point to sit out the middle of the day. The bushwhacking descent was enough to test all of our nerves and by the time we found some shade in an aspen grove it was time shut our eyes for a bit.
Around 4pm I awoke to the sound of bugle just down the hill from us and within minutes we were all ready to move. Not long into our hike the bugle got louder and the next thing we knew Jason was at full draw on a bull coming directly up the trail. Unfortunately, the bull must have sensed something was wrong and disappeared from sight leaving us with a clear trail back to the Steamboat city limits.
On our way up the last ridge we heard a bugle coming from one of the lowest points we had seen all day. While it was tempting to head for the house and a cold bourbon, Chris and I decided to move quickly and see if we could get a response. As we moved we would stop every 50-70 yards and do a quick call to locate the bull and make sure we werent right on top of him. Once we got to the creekbed we knew he couldnt be far so we set up and began to call. I was around 20 yards in front of Chris and directly in between him and the bull so that hopefully I could cut him off in case he came in.
As Chris kept calling the bugles got louder and then the tell tale branches breaking started to close in. Just as the branches began to move at the top of the creekbank the bull appeared and walked directly downhill to me at a spot that I had ranged at 51 yards. This was the first time I had seen a bull that I had heard bugling and in many ways it was calming to see what was on the other end of that screaming. The bull was incredible looking with a tight summer coat and antlers that were more long than they were wide.
In hunting you know that trophy animals dont get old by being stupid and I think this bull had been around long enough to know something was going on. Though he hung around for a while he never got closer than 51 yards and that was simply a shot I didnt feel comfortable with. In all the madness of the bull coming in I had barely paid attention to the cow elk that was now standing just 15 yards in front of me wondering what was crouched down in the grass and staring so intently at the bull behind her. She got a free pass.
For the next several days we continued to hunt hard. To be honest, I dont know if you could hunt any harder than we did. Every day we covered at least 10 miles of Colorado backcountry and let the elk give direction to our steps. Every night we came home exhausted and after a quick meal and beer we would head to bed knowing that we were going to have to get up and do it all over again. By the end of the week I had lost enthusiasm and I began to wake up feeling very resentful toward everyone and everything.
On the morning of Saturday the 18th I was so tired it took me 10 minutes just to figure out where I was when my alarm went off at 345am. I jumped in the shower and went downstairs to assess whether any of my comrades had joined me in waking up to find out that I was the only one in the house awake. As I pondered letting everyone sleep in, Andrew (a new addition to the team) came up the stairs dressed and ready to go. I broke the news to him that Josh was flying out at noon and that Jason and Chris were still asleep knowing that I was getting ready to have to light a fire under everyone so that we could put in one last day of hunting.
There's nothing worse than waking up before 5am and already feeling rushed. Unfortunately for Jason and Chris thats exactly what happened. A couple pieces of cold pizza and two cups of strong coffee and we were back in the Tundra headed toward a piece of land that Andrew had hunted the night before with some success but showed signs of even greater potential.
Around 6am we pulled onto a dirt road with tire ruts big enough to bottom out any stock truck on the market. After parking illegally on a rancher's access road we hopped out and started up the trail to the public land. No more than 90 seconds after being there we heard a huge bugle and we all knew it would likely be an interesting morning.
After crossing the first ridge and getting high on the second we heard activity behind us and quickly retraced our steps to get setup down in the low area that was holding some water. As soon as we got low enough to begin calling Jason was set up to my right and I was standing on the edge of a pine tree. Within seconds a cow elk came sprinting down the hill in front of us followed by a loud huffing sound that turned out to be a huge bull corralling her. The bull only had one side of his rack but he was clearly a dominant bull and he proceeded to chase her in circles for 45 seconds and then right back up the hill.
That all took place about 70 yards from me and was exciting but before we knew it the hill erupted again directly in front of us and once again elk were pouring off the hill and directly to Jason. Two spike bulls came first and were then followed by two cows, one of which walked inside of 10 yards from Jason. As I continued to watch the scene unfold I saw a 5x5 bull walk directly Jason's right. Once the bull presented a clean shot Jason drew back and made a shot which hit farther back than he wanted but would later prove to have been deadly.
Once the animals made their way out of the area we re-grouped, gave our congrats to Jason and began calming our nerves after all that had taken place. I thought it was awfully ironic that the one hunt that Josh hadnt joined us on was our only productive hunt of the trip so I texted him to let him know that if he wanted to change his flight we might have a couple extra pictures for him to take. Within seconds he responded and began re-working his travel plans which allowed him to join us just two hours later.
Here is where my hunt begins.
We knew that based on the activity we had seen that morning we would likely have some success pushing farther into the woods. After about 15 minutes we left Jason to sit and wait for 2 hours before looking for his bull and we ascended the next peak. Once on top of the peak it was clear that our assumptions were right as we could hear at least 3 different bulls bugling; one to the left, one straight ahead and one to the right.
The loudest one seemed to be to the left so we took off in pursuit of him. Our chase led us to another creek bottom at the base of a ridge with some great elk sign. This was once again one of those bulls who's bugle will make you feel uncomfortable inside and like the one before we got close but we were never able to see him.
On our way back to meet Jason we heard yet another bull light up on the hillside and while Andrew was ready to head back, Chris and I decided it was worth giving it a shot since it was my last day. So once again we put out our radar and began following the sound of that elk directly to the base of the ridge to assess how high on the hill he probably was. At times, the volume is very deceptive and this was one of those times. Every time we thought we were getting closer we realized we still needed to climb more to get right in on top of him if we were going to have a chance to seal the deal.
One thing that I learned in elk hunting this fall is that if you are not uncomfortably close to the elk before you start calling you are probably not going to get a shot...at least not with the bow. When you are chasing after one that is at a stalemate you will hit your point of discomfort where every inch forward seems like a mile and that is where we got to with this bull.
Once we arrived in the "discomfort zone" Chris stayed back and I began my slow stalk into the bulls personal space. Without a whole lot of cover I got set up just to the right of a large rock and behind a limb that was slightly taller than I am. From my position I had large pine trees in front of me at about 18 yards and a clear shot range that stayed that distance from my 11 o'clock to my 6 o'clock. From my position I could also see through the pine trees directly to a large tree that was shaking violently as a result of grown elk antlers raking across it.
As I sat and watched the tree shake I heard Chris let out a cow call from behind me and the tree went still. The next minute went by in slow motion as I watched the bull pick up his head and begin walking directly toward me. I will probably never in my life forget watching that 800lb 6x6 bull and those wide antlers come walking through the pine trees directly in front of me.
The moment before he split the pines I drew my bow back and readied for the shot. Once he crossed through the pines he turned broadside and began moving to my right. As he moved so did I as I swung my body to line up for the shot. Seconds later he cleared any obstacle brush and I let the arrow fly to a point on his body which was exactly center vertically and 4 inches behind the crease in his shoulder. Once the arrow made contact I watched it disappear and I knew that the shot was perfect...literally within an inch of where I was aiming.
Not knowing exactly what had happened the elk took several steps up the hill, changed his direction and I saw the exit wound. I could not have been more excited that not only had the arrow gone where it was placed but I had gotten a full pass through and there was no way he could survive the shot. The bull stayed on the trail, disoriented and staring in my direction trying to decipher what had happened. In that moment I was very thankful for the opportunity to do what I had done and extremely thankful for the shot placement.
As I stood there watching him trying to remain calm I heard the sound of crashing up and down trees behind me. I soon realized that there were 3 bears at about 50 yards moving in my direction. As a result I had to adjust my position to make sure the bears were aware of my presence. My movement caused the big bull to start walking away though he was clearly moving slowly and not alarmed.
That was at 1015am and when I sat down I could hardly believe what had just happened. I was overwhelmed with excitement but more than anything I was ecstatic about the shot which had also been seen by Andrew. I knew that I had hit exactly where I wanted to and there was no doubt...NONE...that he was dead within 100 yards of where he was shot. So I sat and tried to be patient and give him his time knowing that I would soon go to claim the elk that I had worked very, very hard for.
The short version of this very long story is that after nearly 30 man hours of searching we never found my bull. We scowered that hillside, two ridges, the drainage on both sides of the spine and the creekbed only to come up with nothing.
As I write this I just got off the phone with Chris who is still in Colorado. He spoke with another seasoned elk hunter who knows the situation all too well. We all know that the elk is dead but the chances of finding him are slim to none. Even a bull that is hit well is still a rugged, strong animal made to take a lot and keep moving to places where he will never be discovered.
To say the very least I am disappointed though that is hardly a word that can describe the frustration I have been dealing with for the past five days. I have spent plenty of my life hunting but I have never worked that hard only to lose the hunt in the last second over a shot that was perfectly placed. My mind cant really get around that and its probably because it seems like its lacking some sense of justice. I did all that work, put in all those miles, practiced the shot hundreds of times and that elk should have been laying exactly where I thought he was.
I have played out the situation hundreds of times in my head and each time I struggle to find what I could have done differently. Its a miserable feeling to constantly analyze something that you did well and force yourself to find fault in it but thats where Ive found myself.
While I didnt return with my elk I did return with a whole new appreciation for hunting, the mountains, the outdoors, my physical competence and the guys I shared the experience with. I also gained an appreciation for the elk and what strong and intense animals they are. This was definitely the kind of trip that will teach you a little bit about yourself and I learned plenty.
If anyone asked me if they should try elk hunting I would tell them that if you're going to do it yourself on public land with no guide then you had better be prepared. You should prepare to be in great shape and you will still get your ass kicked. You should be prepared mentally for the long days and the fact that you will have to concentrate on making a shot when an 800lb horned animal is coming in for a fight. You should also prepare emotionally for exactly what I went through that even when you think that everything went perfectly it might not have and all of your hard work may still send you home empty handed.
Awesome trip.
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Messages From God
"Every week our prophetic prayer ministry listens for what God might be trying to tell us this week". That sentence alone could probably make me more uncomfortable than anything on earth if for some reason my dad was sitting next to me in Church. I can just imagine the thought, "Wow, this has really been a great service" straight to "Wow, these people are crazy". Maybe I dont give him enough credit or maybe I know that he's just like me and thats exactly what I thought the first 50 times I heard them say it. And, if that wasnt enough the messages themselves will certainly seal the deal. Lately it seems like there has been a lot of wildlife messages including some serious words about marine life.
Let me start off by saying I am pretty cynical on the topic. Its funny because I really love Christ and I have seen the Holy Spirit at work in my life and other people's but I have a wall up that is very strong against anything that might be less than authentic. Does that make me judgmental? At times, Im sure. But whats more than that is the fact that I could be missing out on what the Lord has in store for me and the way that maybe He wants to speak to me in a new way.
I remember a Saturday morning in the fall of last year. For whatever reason everyone that I knew was busy so I packed the truck and headed out to Folly Beach by myself to surf a very large storm swell from an approaching tropical storm. As I parked at 9th ave and stepped on to the boardwalk I could clearly see that it would be a challenging day to surf for anyone but especially someone trying to get through the break on a longboard. After watching it for a while I decided I wouldnt paddle out and a very weird feeling came over me of defeat and it was much heavier than it should have been. That was the first time in at least a decade that I had decided not to go.
After ditching the surfboard I grabbed my fly rod and went out to a saltwater flat by myself to fish the tide for tailing redfish. For the next two hours I waded that flat with the feeling of defeat on my shoulders only in part because of the surf but more due to the weight of where I had come with Palmetto Medical. I was at a point where I was stepping away from Prison Fellowship and had just gone through a year of trying to juggle two full time jobs without a break. As a result of being burnt out I began to entertain feelings of potential failure, discouragement and I think that I was just internalizing things to a degree that I felt alone relative to the organization. I felt like it was imminent that we would lose support or that people would see my position in the organization as unnecessary or our numbers just werent where they should be. All that I know is that for two hours I wrestled with my thoughts and my faith.
The next morning I showed up to St. Andrews and went through a fairly routine service
and we eventually found our way to the weekly messages from God. There were a couple messages that went through and then I heard "For a man who went to the beach and stared at the waves but wouldnt go out. The Lord is here for you and wants to minister to you in your time of being overwhelmed".
It really didnt matter how much I tried to rationalize it, I knew that the Lord had given that message for me in a time where trying to reassure myself in his plan and purpose just simply wasnt providing me peace. Did He need to do that? No. But it was so comforting to know that in the midst of my struggle that He saw me there and was walking through it with me.
This is the thing I think I am working through most right now in my relationship with Christ. How can I move beyond or outside of the way that I perceive Christ and the Father for who they truly are. How do I move to a point of comfort with the Holy Spirit to where I dont demand control over the situation and simply trust in the way that He moves. Not only that, how do I go from getting a taste of what He has to offer to living into that every day and experiencing a state of truly being Spirit filled and led?
I know that its going to take a conscious decision from me and at times it seems like the gravity or magnitude of that decision is daunting to me. I hold so tightly to my control. I have no problem with being obedient to the Lord's direction in my life and pursuing and "doing" the things I feel led to do but I struggle in the relationship and I struggle in the vulnerability.
I wish that I could start my relationship with Christ in a completely new way. A way where I didnt carry so much religious baggage with me that has taught me to understand things a certain way. I wish that I could see things the way that Christ intended for me to see, understand and experience them. The process of undoing and erasing years of other people's perceptions and thoughts is tiring but I know its worth the process.
At the end of the day the Holy Spirit pretty much scares the crap out of me. But, I definitely want and know I need to fully embrace the power that is there. Pray for me.
Let me start off by saying I am pretty cynical on the topic. Its funny because I really love Christ and I have seen the Holy Spirit at work in my life and other people's but I have a wall up that is very strong against anything that might be less than authentic. Does that make me judgmental? At times, Im sure. But whats more than that is the fact that I could be missing out on what the Lord has in store for me and the way that maybe He wants to speak to me in a new way.
I remember a Saturday morning in the fall of last year. For whatever reason everyone that I knew was busy so I packed the truck and headed out to Folly Beach by myself to surf a very large storm swell from an approaching tropical storm. As I parked at 9th ave and stepped on to the boardwalk I could clearly see that it would be a challenging day to surf for anyone but especially someone trying to get through the break on a longboard. After watching it for a while I decided I wouldnt paddle out and a very weird feeling came over me of defeat and it was much heavier than it should have been. That was the first time in at least a decade that I had decided not to go.
After ditching the surfboard I grabbed my fly rod and went out to a saltwater flat by myself to fish the tide for tailing redfish. For the next two hours I waded that flat with the feeling of defeat on my shoulders only in part because of the surf but more due to the weight of where I had come with Palmetto Medical. I was at a point where I was stepping away from Prison Fellowship and had just gone through a year of trying to juggle two full time jobs without a break. As a result of being burnt out I began to entertain feelings of potential failure, discouragement and I think that I was just internalizing things to a degree that I felt alone relative to the organization. I felt like it was imminent that we would lose support or that people would see my position in the organization as unnecessary or our numbers just werent where they should be. All that I know is that for two hours I wrestled with my thoughts and my faith.
The next morning I showed up to St. Andrews and went through a fairly routine service
and we eventually found our way to the weekly messages from God. There were a couple messages that went through and then I heard "For a man who went to the beach and stared at the waves but wouldnt go out. The Lord is here for you and wants to minister to you in your time of being overwhelmed".
It really didnt matter how much I tried to rationalize it, I knew that the Lord had given that message for me in a time where trying to reassure myself in his plan and purpose just simply wasnt providing me peace. Did He need to do that? No. But it was so comforting to know that in the midst of my struggle that He saw me there and was walking through it with me.
This is the thing I think I am working through most right now in my relationship with Christ. How can I move beyond or outside of the way that I perceive Christ and the Father for who they truly are. How do I move to a point of comfort with the Holy Spirit to where I dont demand control over the situation and simply trust in the way that He moves. Not only that, how do I go from getting a taste of what He has to offer to living into that every day and experiencing a state of truly being Spirit filled and led?
I know that its going to take a conscious decision from me and at times it seems like the gravity or magnitude of that decision is daunting to me. I hold so tightly to my control. I have no problem with being obedient to the Lord's direction in my life and pursuing and "doing" the things I feel led to do but I struggle in the relationship and I struggle in the vulnerability.
I wish that I could start my relationship with Christ in a completely new way. A way where I didnt carry so much religious baggage with me that has taught me to understand things a certain way. I wish that I could see things the way that Christ intended for me to see, understand and experience them. The process of undoing and erasing years of other people's perceptions and thoughts is tiring but I know its worth the process.
At the end of the day the Holy Spirit pretty much scares the crap out of me. But, I definitely want and know I need to fully embrace the power that is there. Pray for me.
Monday, August 9, 2010
Meeting Behavior Guidelines
My life consists of meetings. Since I work out of the house I am constantly going somewhere in town to meet with folks on topics ranging from Palmetto Medical Initiative to relationship committment issues (no one in particular here) to new business ideas. Yesterday I found myself in a meeting that defied my imagination of just how bad a meeting could get. As a result I would like to provide a handy list of reminders for other people who may not be quite as experienced in the art of a successful meeting. Here's five recommendations to keep in mind.
THE URGE - Just because you have the urge to say something doesnt necessarily mean that you should speak. For some people in a meeting its almost like they need to establish their presence by making a comment. They want you to know who they are and that they have something to say. The only problem is that if you're like me I dont really care what you have to say unless you're the one running the meeting because only the leader has the power to close the meeting which is always what Im looking forward to. If you absolutely must say something please make sure it has not already been covered and that it will benefit the entire group. Otherwise, the fact that you dont understand something isnt really a reason to punish me by making me wait through your processing.
OVERESTIMATING YOUR VALUE - While you may have been invited to a meeting that doesnt mean that anyone necessarily values your opinion on what is being discussed. This is especially true when you werent personally invited - you were just simply a part of a huge group to whom a blanket invitation was given. This kind of reminds me of when someone prices an item way too high on Craigslist and they sincerely believe that someone out there will value their item just as much as they do. The only problem is that it will never sell and you'll be left with your junk at the end of the day. Likewise, just because you have an opinion on the topic doesnt mean that its going to change anything. So please dont be shocked when the entire plan isnt adapted to your wish especially when you are the only person in the room who thinks that way. Using the Craigslist analogy your opinion is your over-valued junk so please take your junk and exit the meeting because nobody would buy it even if it was free.
LET ME TAKE THAT - No. Unless you are the leader of the meeting you should not be volunteering your services due to the risk of further complicating what is probably already a controversial question or issue. If you are the leader and someone says "do you mind if I answer that?" you had better be pretty darn sure that the person knows what they're talking about before you consent. Again, I dont really care if you do know the answer to what has been brought up - guess what, I probably do too. But, Im not going to answer because I didnt call this meeting together.
THE OSCAR - The Oscar goes to the most dramatic person in a meeting that has managed to turn something pretty straightforward into something that makes me want so uncomfortable that I have to close my eyes and go to another place in my mind until I hear the person stop talking. This can be the overly enthusiastic person who has jumped forward 10 steps and ignored all logic and reason in their assessment. Or this can be a person who incredibly overstates the issue at hand to make it seem much more grand than it really is. An example might be something like talking about the kind of people that you would like to invite to a new church you are starting and having someone in the crowd state that those people will "have done satanic rituals, drank blood and sacrificed their children" to illustrate the point that the crowd will likely be unchurched. That kind of comment wins the meeting Oscar for most dramatic performance. It also wins the "What would have caused you to say that" and "Have you ever been to a meeting before" and "Do you talk like that to your friends" awards.
MULTI TASKING - When I worked for Prison Fellowship I was constantly on conference calls. It was like the crack of the organization and no one could get enough. This was okay if there were a maximum of six people on the line but there were times when we would have 60-90 people on the phone if there were a major issue at hand. I hated conference calls but I always looked forward to seeing who would fail to mute their phone during a presentation. Inevitably someone would think their cell phone was muted during a call they should have been paying attention to but in fact they would be at the drive through window at McDonalds placing an order for an iced capuccino. There was also the time when a big decision had been made and was being presented that one of our Regional Directors could be heard (without a muted phone) saying "You've got to be kidding me! You cant do that! Does he think we're all just going to change everything?" To which our SVP responded "ummm...Rod...we can hear you brother". That made me both laugh and also become very nauseous. Here's the point, if you're going to multi-task you had better be pretty cautious.
The list could go on but these are some meeting rules that I try to live by. I hope they provide you some mental checkpoints for your next group setting.
THE URGE - Just because you have the urge to say something doesnt necessarily mean that you should speak. For some people in a meeting its almost like they need to establish their presence by making a comment. They want you to know who they are and that they have something to say. The only problem is that if you're like me I dont really care what you have to say unless you're the one running the meeting because only the leader has the power to close the meeting which is always what Im looking forward to. If you absolutely must say something please make sure it has not already been covered and that it will benefit the entire group. Otherwise, the fact that you dont understand something isnt really a reason to punish me by making me wait through your processing.
OVERESTIMATING YOUR VALUE - While you may have been invited to a meeting that doesnt mean that anyone necessarily values your opinion on what is being discussed. This is especially true when you werent personally invited - you were just simply a part of a huge group to whom a blanket invitation was given. This kind of reminds me of when someone prices an item way too high on Craigslist and they sincerely believe that someone out there will value their item just as much as they do. The only problem is that it will never sell and you'll be left with your junk at the end of the day. Likewise, just because you have an opinion on the topic doesnt mean that its going to change anything. So please dont be shocked when the entire plan isnt adapted to your wish especially when you are the only person in the room who thinks that way. Using the Craigslist analogy your opinion is your over-valued junk so please take your junk and exit the meeting because nobody would buy it even if it was free.
LET ME TAKE THAT - No. Unless you are the leader of the meeting you should not be volunteering your services due to the risk of further complicating what is probably already a controversial question or issue. If you are the leader and someone says "do you mind if I answer that?" you had better be pretty darn sure that the person knows what they're talking about before you consent. Again, I dont really care if you do know the answer to what has been brought up - guess what, I probably do too. But, Im not going to answer because I didnt call this meeting together.
THE OSCAR - The Oscar goes to the most dramatic person in a meeting that has managed to turn something pretty straightforward into something that makes me want so uncomfortable that I have to close my eyes and go to another place in my mind until I hear the person stop talking. This can be the overly enthusiastic person who has jumped forward 10 steps and ignored all logic and reason in their assessment. Or this can be a person who incredibly overstates the issue at hand to make it seem much more grand than it really is. An example might be something like talking about the kind of people that you would like to invite to a new church you are starting and having someone in the crowd state that those people will "have done satanic rituals, drank blood and sacrificed their children" to illustrate the point that the crowd will likely be unchurched. That kind of comment wins the meeting Oscar for most dramatic performance. It also wins the "What would have caused you to say that" and "Have you ever been to a meeting before" and "Do you talk like that to your friends" awards.
MULTI TASKING - When I worked for Prison Fellowship I was constantly on conference calls. It was like the crack of the organization and no one could get enough. This was okay if there were a maximum of six people on the line but there were times when we would have 60-90 people on the phone if there were a major issue at hand. I hated conference calls but I always looked forward to seeing who would fail to mute their phone during a presentation. Inevitably someone would think their cell phone was muted during a call they should have been paying attention to but in fact they would be at the drive through window at McDonalds placing an order for an iced capuccino. There was also the time when a big decision had been made and was being presented that one of our Regional Directors could be heard (without a muted phone) saying "You've got to be kidding me! You cant do that! Does he think we're all just going to change everything?" To which our SVP responded "ummm...Rod...we can hear you brother". That made me both laugh and also become very nauseous. Here's the point, if you're going to multi-task you had better be pretty cautious.
The list could go on but these are some meeting rules that I try to live by. I hope they provide you some mental checkpoints for your next group setting.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Gym Class
Where do you even begin? When I was 12 my dad took a job with a company called Northern Automotive that was based in Phoenix, Arizona. Upon my arrival in Phoenix I was entering middle school which is a whole new phase of life for a kid. For me though it was a whole new phase accompanied with all new people, a new landscape and a very different culture.
I can remember the first day that I walked into my new school. Even though I was as shy as ever during that time I can remember thinking that I was pretty much a total and complete badass based on my wardrobe so that gave me some confidence. Im not sure what part of the jean shorts, UGA Football t-shirt or high top black reebok pumps with the orange basketball on the tongue gave me confidence but something did...maybe it was the gold chain I bought at a yard sale in Bristol, TN. For reference, this was about the time that the new Metallica album LOAD came out - the one where they all shaved their pony tails and their music started the downward spiral into what it is now. Nevertheless though, my uncle and I listened to it over and over and over.
Among many other things, gym class when you're in middle school is just weird. Ive never really understood the rationale behind the timing of the class. You have fifty boys who go outside and sweat for an hour and then they go back to class reeking worse than hot trash because only 15% of them have started wearing deodorant and 90% of them are wearing dirty clothes anyway.
I guess thats why they introduced the gym clothes and made everyone wear the same uniform which was clearly hand picked by Coach Edigar. Coach Edigar was a fairly nice man who always wore tank-tops, white leather shoes, a whistle and VERY short cotton gym shorts...semi/completely inappropriate. Even if I didnt care for him that much I will always appreciate the fact that he stood by and watched as Jason (a fat kid) stood over top of Brett (a jock heckler) and beat his face in. We all wanted to do it and I think that Coach may have secretly wanted to do it as well.
I was what you would call a bit of a husky young man. My dad used to try to tell me that the extra weight in my legs would be great for hitting the baseball so I tried to embrace that. Unfortunately, the legs didnt look so good in those gym shorts and truth be told the t-shirt wasnt really big enough either. It was kind of like trying to cover a whale with a beach towell.
As a result of the poorly fitting uniform I decided I wasnt going to wear it and I made up excuses like "I lost it" or "I left it at home". I can remember seeing the disgust in Coach's face that I had once again not aligned myself with the dress code.
What is every heavy kid's absolute worst nightmare? THE PRESIDENTS PHYSICAL FITNESS TEST. This was the one time each year when you could actually confirm everyone's suspicions about how out of shape you were. There in front of everyone you had the chance to that not only were you not fast nor did you have any stamina but you were also able to prove that even though you were big you were actually not that strong.
Here are a few of the highlights:
Chin Up - Let's get one thing straight - fat 12 year old's cant do chin ups. Period. Its just not going to happen. Therefore, making a 12 year old who weighs 190 lbs step up to a bar to attempt a chin up should be some sort of child abuse. I can remember kids going in front of me and doing a dozen chin ups and thinking "Im not even sure if I can hold myself off the ground". In sixth grade it was my turn and after stating that there was no way I could do one I was told to just try. So, I did the classic attempt. I walked up to the bar and put my hands on it. Next, I jumped as high as I could (not very high as you can imagine) and tried to make it look like my leap was a surge of strength. The main problem with that was when I started to come down I clearly had absolutely no control over my muscles and my elbows almost snapped. I think they still may have counted it as one though.
Endurance Run - When its 115 degrees outside the last thing you want to think about is a distance run where you are being judged based on the distance you complete. This is especially the case when you can really only complete one lap on a semi-jog and then you begin walking and spitting because you are so out of breath and your throat is full of crap that you have been hacking up. Fortunately, I figured out a great cover up for this. There was a group of skaters at the time who I kind of hung out with that pretty much did everything they could to ignore the teachers. So, for them they saw walking the whole event as a demonstration of anti-authority. It was at that time that I decided I too was going to be a rebel and if that meant that I had to walk the whole course then I was fine with that.
Sit Ups - It sucks when they make them impossible to fake. Its so much easier to pretend you're doing one when someone isnt sitting on your feet and counting for you. But, of course, that is how the test was structured. I can honestly say that I dont remember much other than that after 25 seconds I was sure of two things. First, I was pretty confident that my head was going to explode all over the person holding my feet. Second, I was pretty sure I was going to throw up all over the person holding my feet. Somehow I managed to survive without disgracing my workout partner.
Thankfully I dont have to do any more physical fitness tests and I actually enjoy going to the gym. Every time I crank out a few chin ups there is an extra sense of pride. Truth be told though I would probably still die in an endurance run.
I can remember the first day that I walked into my new school. Even though I was as shy as ever during that time I can remember thinking that I was pretty much a total and complete badass based on my wardrobe so that gave me some confidence. Im not sure what part of the jean shorts, UGA Football t-shirt or high top black reebok pumps with the orange basketball on the tongue gave me confidence but something did...maybe it was the gold chain I bought at a yard sale in Bristol, TN. For reference, this was about the time that the new Metallica album LOAD came out - the one where they all shaved their pony tails and their music started the downward spiral into what it is now. Nevertheless though, my uncle and I listened to it over and over and over.
Among many other things, gym class when you're in middle school is just weird. Ive never really understood the rationale behind the timing of the class. You have fifty boys who go outside and sweat for an hour and then they go back to class reeking worse than hot trash because only 15% of them have started wearing deodorant and 90% of them are wearing dirty clothes anyway.
I guess thats why they introduced the gym clothes and made everyone wear the same uniform which was clearly hand picked by Coach Edigar. Coach Edigar was a fairly nice man who always wore tank-tops, white leather shoes, a whistle and VERY short cotton gym shorts...semi/completely inappropriate. Even if I didnt care for him that much I will always appreciate the fact that he stood by and watched as Jason (a fat kid) stood over top of Brett (a jock heckler) and beat his face in. We all wanted to do it and I think that Coach may have secretly wanted to do it as well.
I was what you would call a bit of a husky young man. My dad used to try to tell me that the extra weight in my legs would be great for hitting the baseball so I tried to embrace that. Unfortunately, the legs didnt look so good in those gym shorts and truth be told the t-shirt wasnt really big enough either. It was kind of like trying to cover a whale with a beach towell.
As a result of the poorly fitting uniform I decided I wasnt going to wear it and I made up excuses like "I lost it" or "I left it at home". I can remember seeing the disgust in Coach's face that I had once again not aligned myself with the dress code.
What is every heavy kid's absolute worst nightmare? THE PRESIDENTS PHYSICAL FITNESS TEST. This was the one time each year when you could actually confirm everyone's suspicions about how out of shape you were. There in front of everyone you had the chance to that not only were you not fast nor did you have any stamina but you were also able to prove that even though you were big you were actually not that strong.
Here are a few of the highlights:
Chin Up - Let's get one thing straight - fat 12 year old's cant do chin ups. Period. Its just not going to happen. Therefore, making a 12 year old who weighs 190 lbs step up to a bar to attempt a chin up should be some sort of child abuse. I can remember kids going in front of me and doing a dozen chin ups and thinking "Im not even sure if I can hold myself off the ground". In sixth grade it was my turn and after stating that there was no way I could do one I was told to just try. So, I did the classic attempt. I walked up to the bar and put my hands on it. Next, I jumped as high as I could (not very high as you can imagine) and tried to make it look like my leap was a surge of strength. The main problem with that was when I started to come down I clearly had absolutely no control over my muscles and my elbows almost snapped. I think they still may have counted it as one though.
Endurance Run - When its 115 degrees outside the last thing you want to think about is a distance run where you are being judged based on the distance you complete. This is especially the case when you can really only complete one lap on a semi-jog and then you begin walking and spitting because you are so out of breath and your throat is full of crap that you have been hacking up. Fortunately, I figured out a great cover up for this. There was a group of skaters at the time who I kind of hung out with that pretty much did everything they could to ignore the teachers. So, for them they saw walking the whole event as a demonstration of anti-authority. It was at that time that I decided I too was going to be a rebel and if that meant that I had to walk the whole course then I was fine with that.
Sit Ups - It sucks when they make them impossible to fake. Its so much easier to pretend you're doing one when someone isnt sitting on your feet and counting for you. But, of course, that is how the test was structured. I can honestly say that I dont remember much other than that after 25 seconds I was sure of two things. First, I was pretty confident that my head was going to explode all over the person holding my feet. Second, I was pretty sure I was going to throw up all over the person holding my feet. Somehow I managed to survive without disgracing my workout partner.
Thankfully I dont have to do any more physical fitness tests and I actually enjoy going to the gym. Every time I crank out a few chin ups there is an extra sense of pride. Truth be told though I would probably still die in an endurance run.
Monday, July 12, 2010
The boy
Isnt it interesting that you can see a boys penis when he's 17 weeks old? It was interesting to me. That little piece of anatomy will change my life forever. My first child will be a son and I guess Im going to be a dad. That is of course unless Molly misread the renegade ultrasound that we did and its a girl. If its a girl then this blog will need some revision. We'll know Tuesday.
The question comes to mind "what kind of dad will I be?". The truth is though I already know what kind of dad I will be. That is one of the problems with being fairly self aware is that it limits my ability to ever be an idealist or dreamer in situations such as this. I feel acutely aware of what my strengths will be and also what my weaknesses or struggles will be.
Finding out that we are having a boy has been both exciting and daunting to me. A few months ago a friend of mine who now has both a boy and a girl told me something along the lines of having a girl means you can pretty much get away with being a nice guy and smiling a lot. Whereas, having a boy is a completely different level of responsibility.
Part of me really wanted to have a daughter first. Having a daughter would have meant that my inclination to train a child (like a dog) would probably not have been as strong and the more sensitive side of my personality would have probably shown through. The flip side is though that by the time she was in high school that sensitive side would have turned into a passionate, maniacal, protective and controlling guardian. So, perhaps the Lord knew what He was doing with the son first thing.
I feel like Im already aware of the possibility of failing as a father to this boy. My fear of that failure brings it to the forefront of my mind on a regular basis. I think that one of my greatest goals in life will be to have great relationships with my kids. My worst nightmare would be to have a son who doesnt want to be around me or resents me.
I do wonder what he will be interested in? Will he be interested in the same things I am? Will he love the outdoors? What in the world will his personality be like? Will he love drama class and theater and if he does will I be as supportive of that as I would be of other things? What is he going to look like? All of these deserve their own post.
One thing is for sure, he is going to get to go on some fun adventures with his dad. I dont think there will be many other little boys who come back from spring break in 5th grade after going turkey hunting in New Mexico or get to take a week break from school in the fall to go chase deer or elk. He will definitely learn to appreciate a well-organized garage and the importance of guy time. Im sure he'll pick up on how to tell stories. Im sure he'll become a better fisherman than I ever dreamed of being and I have a feeling he'll be pretty comfortable on a surfboard. Overall, I think he will get to be a little boy and have adventures in the woods and in the creeks and get to wear boots and carry a pocket knife long before he probably should.
Right now I think my biggest prayer for this boy is that he feels known. I pray that he grows up in a family where he feels known by his parents. I pray that he enters a relationship with Christ where he understands and embraces that he is fully known. I pray that in my father to son relationship with him that he feels known and understood and supported and loved.
The question comes to mind "what kind of dad will I be?". The truth is though I already know what kind of dad I will be. That is one of the problems with being fairly self aware is that it limits my ability to ever be an idealist or dreamer in situations such as this. I feel acutely aware of what my strengths will be and also what my weaknesses or struggles will be.
Finding out that we are having a boy has been both exciting and daunting to me. A few months ago a friend of mine who now has both a boy and a girl told me something along the lines of having a girl means you can pretty much get away with being a nice guy and smiling a lot. Whereas, having a boy is a completely different level of responsibility.
Part of me really wanted to have a daughter first. Having a daughter would have meant that my inclination to train a child (like a dog) would probably not have been as strong and the more sensitive side of my personality would have probably shown through. The flip side is though that by the time she was in high school that sensitive side would have turned into a passionate, maniacal, protective and controlling guardian. So, perhaps the Lord knew what He was doing with the son first thing.
I feel like Im already aware of the possibility of failing as a father to this boy. My fear of that failure brings it to the forefront of my mind on a regular basis. I think that one of my greatest goals in life will be to have great relationships with my kids. My worst nightmare would be to have a son who doesnt want to be around me or resents me.
I do wonder what he will be interested in? Will he be interested in the same things I am? Will he love the outdoors? What in the world will his personality be like? Will he love drama class and theater and if he does will I be as supportive of that as I would be of other things? What is he going to look like? All of these deserve their own post.
One thing is for sure, he is going to get to go on some fun adventures with his dad. I dont think there will be many other little boys who come back from spring break in 5th grade after going turkey hunting in New Mexico or get to take a week break from school in the fall to go chase deer or elk. He will definitely learn to appreciate a well-organized garage and the importance of guy time. Im sure he'll pick up on how to tell stories. Im sure he'll become a better fisherman than I ever dreamed of being and I have a feeling he'll be pretty comfortable on a surfboard. Overall, I think he will get to be a little boy and have adventures in the woods and in the creeks and get to wear boots and carry a pocket knife long before he probably should.
Right now I think my biggest prayer for this boy is that he feels known. I pray that he grows up in a family where he feels known by his parents. I pray that he enters a relationship with Christ where he understands and embraces that he is fully known. I pray that in my father to son relationship with him that he feels known and understood and supported and loved.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Seasons
For the last several years many people have found themselves in the midst of a conversation with Hannah and I regarding children. The conversation typically went something like me trying to present the most persuasive argument for having kids while Hannah would simply state that she was not ready and it was not going to happen.
So, when she told me last fall that she was done with birth control it kind of caught me off guard. Im a planner. I have a hard time making sense out of decisions that dont fall into a timeline or systematic approach. Instead of responding with excitement and joy I immediately said "What about the Africa trip?". Poor Hannah thought she had delivered the greatest news of my lifetime but I was already revising the plan in my head and trying to digest this spontaneity.
This all happened at a time in my life when I was probably as burnt out as Ive ever been. After spending a year working a full time job and starting PMI my mind was tired. PMI had experienced amazing growth and a fantastic first year. I should have been more happy than ever because just weeks earlier I had left Prison Fellowship and I was concentrating solely on an organization I had been a part of building from the ground up. Instead, I felt as though I couldnt do anything in my life well. I still felt as though I was drowning in a never ending pile of projects and relationships that I was letting slide. That feeling made me want to start something entirely new and walk away from everything else.
Two days before Hannah and I left for Italy I had one of the toughest days I can remember. It was the result of the burn out and I was mentally and emotionally exhausted and the result was feeling heavy oppression and confusion. What started out as a business meeting on Daniel Island with Andy turned into a four hour conversation with me unable to articulate any of my thoughts and unable to pinpoint where the source of the problem really was. Andy sat and listened and prayed. We prayed the next day as well.
At that time the very last thing I wanted to do was fly to Italy. That was a trip that I was doing solely for Hannah (and prosciutto) and given my state of mind at the time I could think of plenty of better things to be doing with my time.
Italy was the starting point of the greatest season of my life. As I think about it now it is hard to articulate what an amazing trip that was for me. The only way that I know to describe it is rest and peace and love and friendship.
It was an amazing experience to be sitting with Hannah at dinner in Rome and feel as though we were truly on a date and I was getting to know her all over again. Italy seemed to provide an environment where Hannah was the purest form of herself that I had ever seen. Every conversation, every meal, every museum, every train ride was wonderful because I was blanketed with a sense of peace and I was truly with my best friend in the world who I was completely in love with.
The next five months were also wonderful. We were able to bring our renewed minds and relationship back to Charleston and enjoy the winter months together. We made a habit of going on real dates to great restaurants and sharing bottles of wine and just enjoying each others company.
Then suddenly it was April. Hannah had noticed some subtle changes in her body and she decided she would take a test on Saturday morning. That morning I woke up at 530 to go turkey hunting with Mark only to see that Hannah was already up. I could see the light coming from the bathroom and I knew that she had taken the test. With a second test to confirm it we found out that Hannah was pregnant with our first child. That was the morning of Hannah's 26th birthday.
For someone who thinks like I do, an event of this magnitude causes you to think very deeply about what is to come. In the midst of being filled with excitement and joy I found myself getting lost in the reality that came along with that test. All those times I had pushed for children and I never had any clue what it would actually be like to know that Hannah was pregnant.
There was a part of me that was very sad that such a wonderful season in Hannah and I's marriage was over. For those five months we had been able to tune everything else out and concentrate on loving and serving each other. At times it was almost as if we had gone back to our first five months together and experienced that same love that can feel like infatuation at times. I wondered if the pregnancy and the baby would get in the way of our intimate friendship which was a hard thought to address.
Thankfully, Christ has led us into a wonderful new season of our lives. Hannah is as beautiful as I have ever seen her and she is doing so well with the pregnancy. We have felt the love and support of friends and family who are sharing in our excitement about the new baby. I am already seeing the new ways in which Hannah and I will have to rely on each other more and seek to understand each other more and I know that will continue to deepen our marriage as a result. I am most thankful for the assurance of God's timing and His trust in us to raise this child. I take it as a vote of confidence and Im excited to learn and be a steward.
This baby will always remind me of a wonderful season of my life. A season where anxiety and feelings of worthlessness were replaced with peace and renewed purpose. This baby will definitely always remind me of how much I love Hannah and how thankful I am that she is my wife and partner and friend.
And yes, I did start to cry when I saw the baby's heartbeat on the first ultrasound.
So, when she told me last fall that she was done with birth control it kind of caught me off guard. Im a planner. I have a hard time making sense out of decisions that dont fall into a timeline or systematic approach. Instead of responding with excitement and joy I immediately said "What about the Africa trip?". Poor Hannah thought she had delivered the greatest news of my lifetime but I was already revising the plan in my head and trying to digest this spontaneity.
This all happened at a time in my life when I was probably as burnt out as Ive ever been. After spending a year working a full time job and starting PMI my mind was tired. PMI had experienced amazing growth and a fantastic first year. I should have been more happy than ever because just weeks earlier I had left Prison Fellowship and I was concentrating solely on an organization I had been a part of building from the ground up. Instead, I felt as though I couldnt do anything in my life well. I still felt as though I was drowning in a never ending pile of projects and relationships that I was letting slide. That feeling made me want to start something entirely new and walk away from everything else.
Two days before Hannah and I left for Italy I had one of the toughest days I can remember. It was the result of the burn out and I was mentally and emotionally exhausted and the result was feeling heavy oppression and confusion. What started out as a business meeting on Daniel Island with Andy turned into a four hour conversation with me unable to articulate any of my thoughts and unable to pinpoint where the source of the problem really was. Andy sat and listened and prayed. We prayed the next day as well.
At that time the very last thing I wanted to do was fly to Italy. That was a trip that I was doing solely for Hannah (and prosciutto) and given my state of mind at the time I could think of plenty of better things to be doing with my time.
Italy was the starting point of the greatest season of my life. As I think about it now it is hard to articulate what an amazing trip that was for me. The only way that I know to describe it is rest and peace and love and friendship.
It was an amazing experience to be sitting with Hannah at dinner in Rome and feel as though we were truly on a date and I was getting to know her all over again. Italy seemed to provide an environment where Hannah was the purest form of herself that I had ever seen. Every conversation, every meal, every museum, every train ride was wonderful because I was blanketed with a sense of peace and I was truly with my best friend in the world who I was completely in love with.
The next five months were also wonderful. We were able to bring our renewed minds and relationship back to Charleston and enjoy the winter months together. We made a habit of going on real dates to great restaurants and sharing bottles of wine and just enjoying each others company.
Then suddenly it was April. Hannah had noticed some subtle changes in her body and she decided she would take a test on Saturday morning. That morning I woke up at 530 to go turkey hunting with Mark only to see that Hannah was already up. I could see the light coming from the bathroom and I knew that she had taken the test. With a second test to confirm it we found out that Hannah was pregnant with our first child. That was the morning of Hannah's 26th birthday.
For someone who thinks like I do, an event of this magnitude causes you to think very deeply about what is to come. In the midst of being filled with excitement and joy I found myself getting lost in the reality that came along with that test. All those times I had pushed for children and I never had any clue what it would actually be like to know that Hannah was pregnant.
There was a part of me that was very sad that such a wonderful season in Hannah and I's marriage was over. For those five months we had been able to tune everything else out and concentrate on loving and serving each other. At times it was almost as if we had gone back to our first five months together and experienced that same love that can feel like infatuation at times. I wondered if the pregnancy and the baby would get in the way of our intimate friendship which was a hard thought to address.
Thankfully, Christ has led us into a wonderful new season of our lives. Hannah is as beautiful as I have ever seen her and she is doing so well with the pregnancy. We have felt the love and support of friends and family who are sharing in our excitement about the new baby. I am already seeing the new ways in which Hannah and I will have to rely on each other more and seek to understand each other more and I know that will continue to deepen our marriage as a result. I am most thankful for the assurance of God's timing and His trust in us to raise this child. I take it as a vote of confidence and Im excited to learn and be a steward.
This baby will always remind me of a wonderful season of my life. A season where anxiety and feelings of worthlessness were replaced with peace and renewed purpose. This baby will definitely always remind me of how much I love Hannah and how thankful I am that she is my wife and partner and friend.
And yes, I did start to cry when I saw the baby's heartbeat on the first ultrasound.
Friday, May 21, 2010
The Beard
My relationship with facial hair began in ninth grade. Even though you're past middle school, ninth grade is still filled with awkwardness as you're thrust into the the same environment with people who you consider to be serious adults in the Senior class. Things can get especially uncomfortable when you are overweight and have a mushroom looking bowl cut (bowl cuts were not intended for people with thick curly hair - most especially not the kind of cut where they shave it way up high and the hair hangs down)and you have to get braces for the second time. It also doesnt help when you're wearing jnco's and XXL polo shirts with a pair of airwalks or doc martens which unfortunately was my dress of choice at the time.
Ninth grade is also about the time that the first strands of peach fuzz start showing up on a young mans face. Of course there's always the "Teen Wolf" in every class who can grow a full beard by the time they are 11 but for most of us it was a new thing. While most guys in my class either just left it or began shaving once a month, I actually saw it as an opportunity to distinguish myself from my classmates and prove that I was a man to all the ladies. How did I do it? Just For Men Beard and Mustache series. That is correct - as a 13 year old boy I began giving myself hair treatments in the form of brown sideburns.
I can pretty vividly remember getting the first box of color and thinking about what my life would be like if I had sideburns. I imagined myself as the cool guy in my class but then question came up "How cool are you if you have to dye your sideburns?". Obviously, that didnt stop me. What did slightly scare me was the fact that my sideburns were a different color than the rest of my hair. I brushed it off - after all, I thought my dads mustache was a greenish color and nobody ever questioned him.
The thought certainly went through my head once or twice that it might look a little suspicious to show up overnight with new sideburns but it was completely worth the risk. Upon arriving at school the next day, my best friend at the time, Mike, drew some attention to the new addition with probably something like "What are those?". I remember casually responding "You havent noticed me growing these out? Dude, Ive been growing these things out all weekend.". Probably the best confirmation of my decision was when Natalie Hucks acknowledged their presence that same day and even said she liked them. Bullseye.
The truth is that if you would have gotten inside of 18" from them Im sure you would have seen the ink or whatever that stuff is had probably actually stained my skin. I tried to keep my personal distance from people. My painted sideburns were my secret that no one needed to know about.
Eventually the sideburns started to do their own thing and I weened myself off of the coloring product. Then came the next challenge - how far can I push this? I remember seeing guys with huge chop sideburns and thinking that I would do anything to get them. In the punk rock scene those things were a right of passage and I needed to belong. I couldnt understand why men with beards wouldnt just shave them to huge jaw length sideburns. I used to look at my friend Zac's dad's beard and think about the perfect burns I would have if I was him. He's a surgeon though and it probably would have raised a few red flags if a 50 year old doctor came into work looking like a confederate soldier/biker.
Some people experiment with drugs (I did that too) but I primarily experimented with the many varieties of facial hair out there. Early on I attempted the chinstrap, the mutton chops, the reverse manchu, the motorhead, the goatee (epic fail) and so on. When I met Hannah I was sporting a full afro and the reverse manchu which can be most easily thought of if you imagine a full beard and just remove a handlebar mustache. It is a miracle that Hannah's parents even entertained the idea of letting their daughter go out on that first date with me.
Since Hannah and I started dating nine years ago I have only shaved my beard one time. Hannah finally convinced me to do it at Myrtle Beach in 2002. It is eery to have a beard for a long time and see your face completely smooth. It is also eery to look into your girlfriends eyes and see disgust. Since then, Hannah has said in some "nice" ways that my beard is what gives shape to my face...ie. without a beard my face would just be a big blob of flesh similar to java the hutt.
The truth is that I think the beard is a fairly good illustration of who I am. I am a thinker, I feel like an old man, I like whiskey and leather, I love to hunt and fish and I am more at home in a cabin than I ever have been in a city.
Most people may not even notice I have a beard because those who have known me long enough just see it as a part of my face. But, I can only imagine the shock if I was to show up with a face white as powder. You wouldnt know me and you would feel uncomfortable around me. In your head you would be thinking that I had made a huge mistake and wondering how long it was going to take for the white beard to disappear.
If men werent supposed to wear beards every once in a while I highly doubt God would have covered our faces in hair. The only thing I would probably ever trade it for is a mustache like Tom Selleck's but few men have managed that and Im seeing a lot of hipster guys wearing them right now which is gross.
Ninth grade is also about the time that the first strands of peach fuzz start showing up on a young mans face. Of course there's always the "Teen Wolf" in every class who can grow a full beard by the time they are 11 but for most of us it was a new thing. While most guys in my class either just left it or began shaving once a month, I actually saw it as an opportunity to distinguish myself from my classmates and prove that I was a man to all the ladies. How did I do it? Just For Men Beard and Mustache series. That is correct - as a 13 year old boy I began giving myself hair treatments in the form of brown sideburns.
I can pretty vividly remember getting the first box of color and thinking about what my life would be like if I had sideburns. I imagined myself as the cool guy in my class but then question came up "How cool are you if you have to dye your sideburns?". Obviously, that didnt stop me. What did slightly scare me was the fact that my sideburns were a different color than the rest of my hair. I brushed it off - after all, I thought my dads mustache was a greenish color and nobody ever questioned him.
The thought certainly went through my head once or twice that it might look a little suspicious to show up overnight with new sideburns but it was completely worth the risk. Upon arriving at school the next day, my best friend at the time, Mike, drew some attention to the new addition with probably something like "What are those?". I remember casually responding "You havent noticed me growing these out? Dude, Ive been growing these things out all weekend.". Probably the best confirmation of my decision was when Natalie Hucks acknowledged their presence that same day and even said she liked them. Bullseye.
The truth is that if you would have gotten inside of 18" from them Im sure you would have seen the ink or whatever that stuff is had probably actually stained my skin. I tried to keep my personal distance from people. My painted sideburns were my secret that no one needed to know about.
Eventually the sideburns started to do their own thing and I weened myself off of the coloring product. Then came the next challenge - how far can I push this? I remember seeing guys with huge chop sideburns and thinking that I would do anything to get them. In the punk rock scene those things were a right of passage and I needed to belong. I couldnt understand why men with beards wouldnt just shave them to huge jaw length sideburns. I used to look at my friend Zac's dad's beard and think about the perfect burns I would have if I was him. He's a surgeon though and it probably would have raised a few red flags if a 50 year old doctor came into work looking like a confederate soldier/biker.
Some people experiment with drugs (I did that too) but I primarily experimented with the many varieties of facial hair out there. Early on I attempted the chinstrap, the mutton chops, the reverse manchu, the motorhead, the goatee (epic fail) and so on. When I met Hannah I was sporting a full afro and the reverse manchu which can be most easily thought of if you imagine a full beard and just remove a handlebar mustache. It is a miracle that Hannah's parents even entertained the idea of letting their daughter go out on that first date with me.
Since Hannah and I started dating nine years ago I have only shaved my beard one time. Hannah finally convinced me to do it at Myrtle Beach in 2002. It is eery to have a beard for a long time and see your face completely smooth. It is also eery to look into your girlfriends eyes and see disgust. Since then, Hannah has said in some "nice" ways that my beard is what gives shape to my face...ie. without a beard my face would just be a big blob of flesh similar to java the hutt.
The truth is that I think the beard is a fairly good illustration of who I am. I am a thinker, I feel like an old man, I like whiskey and leather, I love to hunt and fish and I am more at home in a cabin than I ever have been in a city.
Most people may not even notice I have a beard because those who have known me long enough just see it as a part of my face. But, I can only imagine the shock if I was to show up with a face white as powder. You wouldnt know me and you would feel uncomfortable around me. In your head you would be thinking that I had made a huge mistake and wondering how long it was going to take for the white beard to disappear.
If men werent supposed to wear beards every once in a while I highly doubt God would have covered our faces in hair. The only thing I would probably ever trade it for is a mustache like Tom Selleck's but few men have managed that and Im seeing a lot of hipster guys wearing them right now which is gross.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Dip or Sip
One thing that is always interesting to me at St Andrews is how slow people are to sit down after Steve or John or even Brian go through the communion proceedings. I dont really care for the hesitation and I dont know where it comes from.
Growing up in a Southern Baptist Church we did communion in a very different way than I currently do it now. In the Southern Baptist Church it was done once a month and it was taken so seriously and was always accompanied by the "if any of you has an unresolved issue with anyone" statement. Really, as a kid, I was just aware that it made the service a solid 20 minutes longer and being an overweight child who only thought about food I didnt like the prospect of delaying my lunch.
So, when I started going to St Andrews I liked two things. First, I liked the fact that it was built in to the service so that I had some idea of what to expect. Secondly, I genuinely appreciated the heart behind the remembrance on a more consistent basis and that it seemed to be more of an act of the fellowship of the body.
Communion is such an interesting part of the service. A thousand people get out of their chairs and go through a process together. It all starts when the usher hits your row.
I typically dont make eye contact at all with the person handing out the wafer. I find that its much easier to just look down and acknowledge with a nod of the head that I have received it. Otherwise, its just kind of weird since you dont really say anything back and you're really close to that persons face so a stare into their eyes would be uncomfortable.
And then comes the moment of truth. People always assume Im going to be a sipper. I dont know if its the beard or what but as soon as its time to take from the cup they start lifting it towards my mouth and when I shock them by coming in for the dip I have to come in with a slam dunk motion because the cup is at mouth level.
I have a fear of dunking my fingers in the wine. I am convinced that one of these days Im going to come up with red fingers and the person holding the cup is going to be completely disgusted. So sometimes, my wafer is pretty dry and even completely dry. Its like doing a fake so that I dont contaminate the pot.
Of course I would have the same fear if I went in for the chug like Mark. If I did that I probably out of caution would not go in aggressively enough and end up spilling the wine all over my shirt. But at least I sit in the back and an emergency exit is always a possibility. I will say that the sip from Mark is unexpected though as I always have pictured him as a dipper. Must have been that old school St. Philips upbringing.
One thing I dont love is when I am seated one row too far forward and I start running the numbers on the possibility that I may have to do communion in the front. Those are some tense moments when the back of the congregation seems to be moving at half speed and the ushers rep'ing the front are dogging it out. All I know is the back. In the front there are too many options...multiple servers, kneelers, prayer ministry etc.
There are people though that live for the front. Michael and Amanda are two of those people. They could have been the last person in the last row of the whole building and sharing a seat but they are going down front. I dont know that I've ever actually seen Michael take communion but Im almost positive he would be a sipper. Actually, Im sure of it.
Its all an interesting group of back-dippers, back-sippers, front-kneelers, sippers and dippers along with the occasional person who actually takes the cup into their own hands to consume. Actually, thats a great idea and one to remember if I ever make the transition which is not likely.
Growing up in a Southern Baptist Church we did communion in a very different way than I currently do it now. In the Southern Baptist Church it was done once a month and it was taken so seriously and was always accompanied by the "if any of you has an unresolved issue with anyone" statement. Really, as a kid, I was just aware that it made the service a solid 20 minutes longer and being an overweight child who only thought about food I didnt like the prospect of delaying my lunch.
So, when I started going to St Andrews I liked two things. First, I liked the fact that it was built in to the service so that I had some idea of what to expect. Secondly, I genuinely appreciated the heart behind the remembrance on a more consistent basis and that it seemed to be more of an act of the fellowship of the body.
Communion is such an interesting part of the service. A thousand people get out of their chairs and go through a process together. It all starts when the usher hits your row.
I typically dont make eye contact at all with the person handing out the wafer. I find that its much easier to just look down and acknowledge with a nod of the head that I have received it. Otherwise, its just kind of weird since you dont really say anything back and you're really close to that persons face so a stare into their eyes would be uncomfortable.
And then comes the moment of truth. People always assume Im going to be a sipper. I dont know if its the beard or what but as soon as its time to take from the cup they start lifting it towards my mouth and when I shock them by coming in for the dip I have to come in with a slam dunk motion because the cup is at mouth level.
I have a fear of dunking my fingers in the wine. I am convinced that one of these days Im going to come up with red fingers and the person holding the cup is going to be completely disgusted. So sometimes, my wafer is pretty dry and even completely dry. Its like doing a fake so that I dont contaminate the pot.
Of course I would have the same fear if I went in for the chug like Mark. If I did that I probably out of caution would not go in aggressively enough and end up spilling the wine all over my shirt. But at least I sit in the back and an emergency exit is always a possibility. I will say that the sip from Mark is unexpected though as I always have pictured him as a dipper. Must have been that old school St. Philips upbringing.
One thing I dont love is when I am seated one row too far forward and I start running the numbers on the possibility that I may have to do communion in the front. Those are some tense moments when the back of the congregation seems to be moving at half speed and the ushers rep'ing the front are dogging it out. All I know is the back. In the front there are too many options...multiple servers, kneelers, prayer ministry etc.
There are people though that live for the front. Michael and Amanda are two of those people. They could have been the last person in the last row of the whole building and sharing a seat but they are going down front. I dont know that I've ever actually seen Michael take communion but Im almost positive he would be a sipper. Actually, Im sure of it.
Its all an interesting group of back-dippers, back-sippers, front-kneelers, sippers and dippers along with the occasional person who actually takes the cup into their own hands to consume. Actually, thats a great idea and one to remember if I ever make the transition which is not likely.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Where is he hiding?
When you were growing up did it ever cross your mind that there might be a burglar in the house? Did that thought become particularly strong right before you went to sleep? Did you actually check under every bed in the house and in the back of all closets? Ever lay on your back terrified that your parents would go to sleep before you did and that you might be the only one left awake in the house to hear someone trying to break in?
No? Me neither.
Well, actually that did happen once or twice...or every night until I moved to Charlotte in middle school.
If you didnt already know, my dad is a pretty serious guy. He's a very driven business man who has had the same mustache for 35 years (except for the one time he cut it when I was 10 and I thought he looked like a pedophile) and can be serious to the point of dramatic at times. Especially during that time in his life he was pretty uptight, intense, over protective and no-nonsense. Here are a few things that may have contributed to my evening anxiety.
Bedtime Stories
Most kids like to wind down at night with a nice story that makes them think about something calming and peaceful before they go to sleep. I can remember numerous occassions at our home in Richmond, VA when I would have just laid down to go to sleep and my dad would enter the room. "Son, do you know what to do if there is a house fire?" Hmmmm...not really the peaceful story I was hoping for. Then, for twenty minutes we would talk about escape routes all the while my mind thinking more and more about the potential for a house fire. Now, instead of imagining a great, happy story I would be imagining heat, smoke, me by myself escaping through the window not knowing if anyone was still alive.
At some point dad would feel satisfied that we had a good plan together and he would head back downstairs to watch tv with my mom. And I would be there wondering when the fire would start. Those thoughts are not really conducive to falling asleep.
I'll never forget one Sunday morning before church I heard the fire alarm go off and I went into full panic mode...I MEAN FULL PANIC MODE. My mom had somehow burnt all the bacon in the oven and I was worried the whole kitchen was going to catch on fire. I think I got really mad at her and it took all morning to calm back down.
THE SHADOW
Some nights I would be fortunate enough to actually fall asleep and be in the midst of waiting for it to get light outside again. Because, of course, burglars dont ever break in during daylight - its strictly a night time thing.
Sometimes I would be laying there dead asleep and I would start to get the feeling that someone was watching me. You know that sense that there is someone else close? I would think in my mind "Matt, there's no one there dont be ridiculous!" And then, I would open my eyes only to discover that in the darkness and middle of the night there actually was someone standing in the doorway looking at me. His name? David Alexander aka THE SHADOW.
I mean there were literally no lights on in the whole house and there is just someone standing in the doorway looking at you!!
Me: Hey dad. What are you doing?
DA: Just making sure you're still breathing.
Me: I am.
DA: Love you.
Me: Love you too.
Really? Did you think I was dead? Good gosh. Then it was time to try to fall asleep all over again. Only this time I was going to be the only one awake again left with thoughts of housefires, burglars and the occasional thought of a tornado which I was also terrified of...and scary movies like Gremlins...yes Gremlins.
This also didnt help much with trying to rationalize my fear. "There's no one there!" Wait, dont you remember last night?
The Locks
On the nights when I had trouble falling asleep I would hear the tv shut off downstairs and the procession towards to the stairs. Mom would go ahead and come up the stairs and then I would hear dad lock 135 doors in the house. The only problem was that there were only 3 doors which contained locks. So, each lock would get the repeat treatment.
I think that the locks may have been where I developed the burglar mentality. The logic goes something like this:
Checking a door 50 times to make sure its locked means that there are serious consequences if that door remains unlocked.
If you leave a door unlocked someone will come into the house.
There is probably already someone in the house.
There is someone in the house.
I have to prove there is no one in the house by checking all possible hiding places.
In case you're wondering, yes, I did become a tad bit OCD at one point. By the grace of God I was able to put that to rest in college but by that time I was a chronic door locker myself. I must admit that I still give each door at least 2 checks before I go to sleep.
My dad and I have pretty similar personalities so its funny to look back at it now and know exactly why all of those things happened. Its all part of that personality makeup and an intense love and desire to be a protector for the family. But, it definitely has left me with some now funny memories.
Pray for the person who ever decides to break into my house because I have been anticipating their arrival for 28 years and I will be prepared.
No? Me neither.
Well, actually that did happen once or twice...or every night until I moved to Charlotte in middle school.
If you didnt already know, my dad is a pretty serious guy. He's a very driven business man who has had the same mustache for 35 years (except for the one time he cut it when I was 10 and I thought he looked like a pedophile) and can be serious to the point of dramatic at times. Especially during that time in his life he was pretty uptight, intense, over protective and no-nonsense. Here are a few things that may have contributed to my evening anxiety.
Bedtime Stories
Most kids like to wind down at night with a nice story that makes them think about something calming and peaceful before they go to sleep. I can remember numerous occassions at our home in Richmond, VA when I would have just laid down to go to sleep and my dad would enter the room. "Son, do you know what to do if there is a house fire?" Hmmmm...not really the peaceful story I was hoping for. Then, for twenty minutes we would talk about escape routes all the while my mind thinking more and more about the potential for a house fire. Now, instead of imagining a great, happy story I would be imagining heat, smoke, me by myself escaping through the window not knowing if anyone was still alive.
At some point dad would feel satisfied that we had a good plan together and he would head back downstairs to watch tv with my mom. And I would be there wondering when the fire would start. Those thoughts are not really conducive to falling asleep.
I'll never forget one Sunday morning before church I heard the fire alarm go off and I went into full panic mode...I MEAN FULL PANIC MODE. My mom had somehow burnt all the bacon in the oven and I was worried the whole kitchen was going to catch on fire. I think I got really mad at her and it took all morning to calm back down.
THE SHADOW
Some nights I would be fortunate enough to actually fall asleep and be in the midst of waiting for it to get light outside again. Because, of course, burglars dont ever break in during daylight - its strictly a night time thing.
Sometimes I would be laying there dead asleep and I would start to get the feeling that someone was watching me. You know that sense that there is someone else close? I would think in my mind "Matt, there's no one there dont be ridiculous!" And then, I would open my eyes only to discover that in the darkness and middle of the night there actually was someone standing in the doorway looking at me. His name? David Alexander aka THE SHADOW.
I mean there were literally no lights on in the whole house and there is just someone standing in the doorway looking at you!!
Me: Hey dad. What are you doing?
DA: Just making sure you're still breathing.
Me: I am.
DA: Love you.
Me: Love you too.
Really? Did you think I was dead? Good gosh. Then it was time to try to fall asleep all over again. Only this time I was going to be the only one awake again left with thoughts of housefires, burglars and the occasional thought of a tornado which I was also terrified of...and scary movies like Gremlins...yes Gremlins.
This also didnt help much with trying to rationalize my fear. "There's no one there!" Wait, dont you remember last night?
The Locks
On the nights when I had trouble falling asleep I would hear the tv shut off downstairs and the procession towards to the stairs. Mom would go ahead and come up the stairs and then I would hear dad lock 135 doors in the house. The only problem was that there were only 3 doors which contained locks. So, each lock would get the repeat treatment.
I think that the locks may have been where I developed the burglar mentality. The logic goes something like this:
Checking a door 50 times to make sure its locked means that there are serious consequences if that door remains unlocked.
If you leave a door unlocked someone will come into the house.
There is probably already someone in the house.
There is someone in the house.
I have to prove there is no one in the house by checking all possible hiding places.
In case you're wondering, yes, I did become a tad bit OCD at one point. By the grace of God I was able to put that to rest in college but by that time I was a chronic door locker myself. I must admit that I still give each door at least 2 checks before I go to sleep.
My dad and I have pretty similar personalities so its funny to look back at it now and know exactly why all of those things happened. Its all part of that personality makeup and an intense love and desire to be a protector for the family. But, it definitely has left me with some now funny memories.
Pray for the person who ever decides to break into my house because I have been anticipating their arrival for 28 years and I will be prepared.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Is it just me?
When you're at a pro basketball game and they announce that under 4 people's chairs there are tickets to participate in a halftime shootout for 10K dollars do you:
A.) Immediately reach under your seat to find out if there's a ticket.
B.) Start thinking that there's no way you would ever be that lucky.
C.) Begin pondering what you could do with 10K dollars.
D.) Start panicking that it might be under your seat, worry about making a total idiot of yourself, start trying to find a friend or spouse who could take it if you actually won it and actually get up and leave to avoid even knowing.
Unfortunately, Im a D.
This all started when I was very young. When I was maybe 4 years old I was at a church service at Grove Avenue Baptist in Richmond, VA. There was a ventriloquist (dont ask me why there was a ventriloquist at church - although it was Sunday night and Baptist people really like to think that Sunday night is casual even though its really business casual) at the service and he asked for all the kids to come up on stage. There had to have been 100 kids up there and he said he was going to need one to help him out.
All the kids start screaming and raising their hands. The ALL wanted to be the one he picked. That is, of course, except for me. I actually turned the other way so that he couldnt see my face and tried to hide under the other kids. Actually, I was trying to devise a plan to belly crawl back to my seat without being spotted or maybe make a run for the bathroom. In the midst of my planning I started hearing him calling for someone and as much as I tried to avoid the thought I knew he was calling me.
So, the deal was that I was supposed to be his dummy. I guess this guy couldnt afford actual props so he used live children. I was just supposed to sit there and move my mouth while he did a Donald Duck voice. Well, apparently I misunderstood the instructions because I started trying to do my own Donald Duck voice which was a little rusty since I had never practiced it and I probably just sounded like a hissing cat. About that time the congregation erupted in laughter and the child abusing ventro pointed out that I wasnt doing it right.
I have to imagine that most 4 year olds dont experience humiliation and failure like I did that evening...at least I hope they dont. I felt like I had shamed myself and my family and I wanted to punch that guy in the stomach for choosing me when all I wanted to do was hide.
Im sure that the guy has probably never thought twice about that and he is off making some other shy childs life miserable. But for me, it shook the core of my 4 year old brain and told me several things:
Next time someone asks for children to come up to the front of the stage just act like you're a man and not a child
Follow instructions
Dont talk to ventriloquists
Dont go to church more than once on Sundays
Practice your Donald Duck voice because apparently you may find yourself doing it in front of 1000 people
You are not like other 4 year old children
This is around the time I started my journey into being a senior citizen before the age of 10. Now at 28 Im around 85 years old and as Lindsay points out I like old man candy...malted milk balls and Werthers.
And, just like when I was 4 I find that Im a bit different than most of the other guys around me. Im a calculated, commitment driven, long term planner who doesnt like to be out past 9 and keeps a pretty rigid schedule. Im definitely not what you would call spontaneous, impulsive or goofy.
Thank the Lord for Hannah because without her I would just be a hermit with a very organized cottage.
A.) Immediately reach under your seat to find out if there's a ticket.
B.) Start thinking that there's no way you would ever be that lucky.
C.) Begin pondering what you could do with 10K dollars.
D.) Start panicking that it might be under your seat, worry about making a total idiot of yourself, start trying to find a friend or spouse who could take it if you actually won it and actually get up and leave to avoid even knowing.
Unfortunately, Im a D.
This all started when I was very young. When I was maybe 4 years old I was at a church service at Grove Avenue Baptist in Richmond, VA. There was a ventriloquist (dont ask me why there was a ventriloquist at church - although it was Sunday night and Baptist people really like to think that Sunday night is casual even though its really business casual) at the service and he asked for all the kids to come up on stage. There had to have been 100 kids up there and he said he was going to need one to help him out.
All the kids start screaming and raising their hands. The ALL wanted to be the one he picked. That is, of course, except for me. I actually turned the other way so that he couldnt see my face and tried to hide under the other kids. Actually, I was trying to devise a plan to belly crawl back to my seat without being spotted or maybe make a run for the bathroom. In the midst of my planning I started hearing him calling for someone and as much as I tried to avoid the thought I knew he was calling me.
So, the deal was that I was supposed to be his dummy. I guess this guy couldnt afford actual props so he used live children. I was just supposed to sit there and move my mouth while he did a Donald Duck voice. Well, apparently I misunderstood the instructions because I started trying to do my own Donald Duck voice which was a little rusty since I had never practiced it and I probably just sounded like a hissing cat. About that time the congregation erupted in laughter and the child abusing ventro pointed out that I wasnt doing it right.
I have to imagine that most 4 year olds dont experience humiliation and failure like I did that evening...at least I hope they dont. I felt like I had shamed myself and my family and I wanted to punch that guy in the stomach for choosing me when all I wanted to do was hide.
Im sure that the guy has probably never thought twice about that and he is off making some other shy childs life miserable. But for me, it shook the core of my 4 year old brain and told me several things:
Next time someone asks for children to come up to the front of the stage just act like you're a man and not a child
Follow instructions
Dont talk to ventriloquists
Dont go to church more than once on Sundays
Practice your Donald Duck voice because apparently you may find yourself doing it in front of 1000 people
You are not like other 4 year old children
This is around the time I started my journey into being a senior citizen before the age of 10. Now at 28 Im around 85 years old and as Lindsay points out I like old man candy...malted milk balls and Werthers.
And, just like when I was 4 I find that Im a bit different than most of the other guys around me. Im a calculated, commitment driven, long term planner who doesnt like to be out past 9 and keeps a pretty rigid schedule. Im definitely not what you would call spontaneous, impulsive or goofy.
Thank the Lord for Hannah because without her I would just be a hermit with a very organized cottage.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Its All In The Handshake
The handshake is a part of every culture. Everywhere that I go in the world there is some tweak on it that makes it unique but it is consistently a part of the greeting and it is particularly embraced by men. It can be as simple as a quick grab and squeeze or it can be as complex as a series of movements all changing based on the mood of the user and the context in which it is being utilized.
I enjoy a good handshake. I cant stand a bad handshake. So for the purpose of illustrating this Im going to use a few people for handshake profiles and types of exchanges.
The Ribeye - Mark Abels has a ridiculously large hand. Im pretty sure that the average mans hand disappears inside his grip during the handshake. Its certainly not a weak handshake but its also not particularly constricting. If you could imagine shaking hands with a 30 oz Ribeye steak then you can envision shaking hands with Mark. Mark isnt the only person that Ive met with this handshake. One of the most memorable shakes Ive ever had was on death row at Easter '04. A man named Marion gave me the Ribeye and I remember thinking that if he put any power behind it my hand would disintegrate. This is particularly impressive because during that period I was obsessed with strength training and wanted to start competing in armwrestling.
The Dead Fish - This is the way that your great aunt shakes hands...and also Ed O'Bryan. There is nothing worse than walking up to a grown man to introduce yourself and grabbing into cold flaccid flesh. It actually makes me want to gag. It makes me want to squeeze until there is pain and he's forced to return some sort of strength. I would say that 90% of the time this is how Ed shakes my hand. Its certainly not because thats how he really shakes hands but he knows how obnoxious it is so he's forced by his code of silliness to do it.
The Cobra Strike - This is really impressive. One of my friends and former neighbors Rhett Harter is a military man through and through. Even though he works for the government currently and not in a role with the army he is a still a military minded guy. The Cobra Strike is something that I have marveled at for some time. The process begins when he sees you and the arm is slightly bent at the elbow as if the hand were in the pocket. As he draws closer to you the elbow begins to raise and move backward in a cocking motion until the elbow is almost at shoulder level. Then...the strike. As you come into range the then entire arm explodes forward and connects with your hand in a way that shakes your whole body. Be careful of a miss though because it will be your own fault since the cobra never misses its mark. I have to say that Rhett has one of my favorite handshakes - it connects with the soul.
The Rockclimber - This could also be called the handcrusher. These guys have some serious grip strength and they are not scared to show it. Josh Drake is one of these guys and so is Justin Parker and my friend Chris Burden. All of these guys have handshakes that almost feel like a competition...at least for someone like myself. I always enjoy seeing all three of these guys so when we see each other we connect with a handshake. There's the grab and then the squeeze is on. We can all be looking intently at each other but the internal dialogue is this "Is he winning?" "I wonder how much longer we can hold this?" These guys are almost always outdoor oriented guys who really do enjoy rockclimbing, the mountains, watersports etc. I may fit into this category but Ive never shaken hands with myself so Im not sure.
The Contemporary - You only shake hands with Michael O'Neal one time and thats the first time that you ever meet him. From there on out you will always be greeted with a pound, waist level five or the slap to hug. I love that about Michael and it fits his personality so perfectly. The contemporary is not interested in the traditional greetings but prefers a more casual exchange that can change depending on the person and location. The only challenge with the contemporary is that it can be highly unpredictable and lead to some awkward misses etc. Its worth the risk though.
Things to Avoid
Finger Squeeze - This is actually the one that I hate the most. There is nothing worse than meeting someone for the first time and going in for the handshake only to realize that they squeezed to early and now a grown man has nothing in his hand but your fingers. Its humiliating and you want to start over but you cant. If you have to have a finger squeeze always try to be on the side of squeezing fingers rather than having your own fingers squeezed.
The Hook - Have you ever shaken hands with someone who's fingers were actually curled back like a hook and pushing into your palm? Its weird. Its probably also a sign that you need to speed up your approach. You're probably giving them too much time and they're beginning their squeeze before you've begun yours. Essentially this is the same effect as the finger squeeze only slightly less aggressive.
The Watch Thief - Can you recall a time when you went in for a handshake only to completely bypass the persons hand and end up grabbing their wrist? Unfortunately, I have. Its pretty painful to sit there and stare someone in the face while holding their wrist. While it may have been completely normal during the renaissance era it is not normal at all now and it will create a bad foundation for the rest of your conversation.
The Boyfriend - Finally, there is the handshake that just never seems to end. It can start off great and even go a little longer than you would normally care to but then it goes past your point of comfort. In Africa and other cultures you may as well just get used to it. For crying out loud in Uganda its perfectly normal for men to walk around holding hands. But we are not in Uganda and if you hold my hand for longer than 5 seconds you are guilty of the boyfriend.
Happy Handshaking.
I enjoy a good handshake. I cant stand a bad handshake. So for the purpose of illustrating this Im going to use a few people for handshake profiles and types of exchanges.
The Ribeye - Mark Abels has a ridiculously large hand. Im pretty sure that the average mans hand disappears inside his grip during the handshake. Its certainly not a weak handshake but its also not particularly constricting. If you could imagine shaking hands with a 30 oz Ribeye steak then you can envision shaking hands with Mark. Mark isnt the only person that Ive met with this handshake. One of the most memorable shakes Ive ever had was on death row at Easter '04. A man named Marion gave me the Ribeye and I remember thinking that if he put any power behind it my hand would disintegrate. This is particularly impressive because during that period I was obsessed with strength training and wanted to start competing in armwrestling.
The Dead Fish - This is the way that your great aunt shakes hands...and also Ed O'Bryan. There is nothing worse than walking up to a grown man to introduce yourself and grabbing into cold flaccid flesh. It actually makes me want to gag. It makes me want to squeeze until there is pain and he's forced to return some sort of strength. I would say that 90% of the time this is how Ed shakes my hand. Its certainly not because thats how he really shakes hands but he knows how obnoxious it is so he's forced by his code of silliness to do it.
The Cobra Strike - This is really impressive. One of my friends and former neighbors Rhett Harter is a military man through and through. Even though he works for the government currently and not in a role with the army he is a still a military minded guy. The Cobra Strike is something that I have marveled at for some time. The process begins when he sees you and the arm is slightly bent at the elbow as if the hand were in the pocket. As he draws closer to you the elbow begins to raise and move backward in a cocking motion until the elbow is almost at shoulder level. Then...the strike. As you come into range the then entire arm explodes forward and connects with your hand in a way that shakes your whole body. Be careful of a miss though because it will be your own fault since the cobra never misses its mark. I have to say that Rhett has one of my favorite handshakes - it connects with the soul.
The Rockclimber - This could also be called the handcrusher. These guys have some serious grip strength and they are not scared to show it. Josh Drake is one of these guys and so is Justin Parker and my friend Chris Burden. All of these guys have handshakes that almost feel like a competition...at least for someone like myself. I always enjoy seeing all three of these guys so when we see each other we connect with a handshake. There's the grab and then the squeeze is on. We can all be looking intently at each other but the internal dialogue is this "Is he winning?" "I wonder how much longer we can hold this?" These guys are almost always outdoor oriented guys who really do enjoy rockclimbing, the mountains, watersports etc. I may fit into this category but Ive never shaken hands with myself so Im not sure.
The Contemporary - You only shake hands with Michael O'Neal one time and thats the first time that you ever meet him. From there on out you will always be greeted with a pound, waist level five or the slap to hug. I love that about Michael and it fits his personality so perfectly. The contemporary is not interested in the traditional greetings but prefers a more casual exchange that can change depending on the person and location. The only challenge with the contemporary is that it can be highly unpredictable and lead to some awkward misses etc. Its worth the risk though.
Things to Avoid
Finger Squeeze - This is actually the one that I hate the most. There is nothing worse than meeting someone for the first time and going in for the handshake only to realize that they squeezed to early and now a grown man has nothing in his hand but your fingers. Its humiliating and you want to start over but you cant. If you have to have a finger squeeze always try to be on the side of squeezing fingers rather than having your own fingers squeezed.
The Hook - Have you ever shaken hands with someone who's fingers were actually curled back like a hook and pushing into your palm? Its weird. Its probably also a sign that you need to speed up your approach. You're probably giving them too much time and they're beginning their squeeze before you've begun yours. Essentially this is the same effect as the finger squeeze only slightly less aggressive.
The Watch Thief - Can you recall a time when you went in for a handshake only to completely bypass the persons hand and end up grabbing their wrist? Unfortunately, I have. Its pretty painful to sit there and stare someone in the face while holding their wrist. While it may have been completely normal during the renaissance era it is not normal at all now and it will create a bad foundation for the rest of your conversation.
The Boyfriend - Finally, there is the handshake that just never seems to end. It can start off great and even go a little longer than you would normally care to but then it goes past your point of comfort. In Africa and other cultures you may as well just get used to it. For crying out loud in Uganda its perfectly normal for men to walk around holding hands. But we are not in Uganda and if you hold my hand for longer than 5 seconds you are guilty of the boyfriend.
Happy Handshaking.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Men's Fashion
There shouldnt be any. Fashion is a world that should be left entirely to women because they are pretty and therefore they are allowed to wear pretty things. Men should not wear pretty things because most men are not pretty. The exception would be the men from the Twilight movies that Hannah loves so much. Those are pretty men.
The average man should only be thinking about a few things when purchasing clothes.
First, is it comfortable? Why would a man buy clothes that are not comfortable? I have a lot of friends that are musicians, skaters and artists and they wear jeans that I often mistake for spandex. Im not ruling out the possibility that they are comfortable but you wont see skinny jeans on this fat boy. The only man that's allowed to wear jeans that tight is the Marlboro Man and sadly Wayne McLaren died in 1992.
Secondly, is it durable? For two years I only wore one pair of jeans. I only paid $16 for them brand new and I would have to say that is pretty good return on investment. If you've ever been at a store and thought about buying something specifically for one event you have failed to take durability into consideration.
Thirdly, does this go with my "uniform"? I am of the persuasion that men should have uniforms. You may have noticed this by the fact that I am always wearing the same thing. In case you're wondering what a uniform might consist of, here's mine:
Wrangler relaxed fit jeans
Chaps button up shirts
Columbia shorts
Pocket t-shirts
Vests (of every kind)
Leather shoes (boat, sandals, boots)
There are not going to be very many times you are going to catch me breaking uniform. In fact, if I thought I could really get away with it I would have seasonal uniforms and I would wear the exact same thing every day of the season. I do this in spurts of up to a week before Hannah gives me a subtle look like "you're kind of nasty...are you ever going to wash that?". The key principle of the uniform is this - you shouldnt have to think longer than 5 seconds about what you're going to wear.
Finally, dont be scared to become a chronic under-dresser. This does not apply to business settings of course but in social settings set your standard and maintain it. If you become known as the guy who wears jeans and a t-shirt to everything then no one is surprised when you show up in jeans and a t-shirt to everything. Case in point, we had 60 people at the house on New Years Eve and I had on shorts, a hooded sweatshirt and a blaze orange hunting parka.
Comfortable, durable, consistent and casual. That is men's fashion.
The average man should only be thinking about a few things when purchasing clothes.
First, is it comfortable? Why would a man buy clothes that are not comfortable? I have a lot of friends that are musicians, skaters and artists and they wear jeans that I often mistake for spandex. Im not ruling out the possibility that they are comfortable but you wont see skinny jeans on this fat boy. The only man that's allowed to wear jeans that tight is the Marlboro Man and sadly Wayne McLaren died in 1992.
Secondly, is it durable? For two years I only wore one pair of jeans. I only paid $16 for them brand new and I would have to say that is pretty good return on investment. If you've ever been at a store and thought about buying something specifically for one event you have failed to take durability into consideration.
Thirdly, does this go with my "uniform"? I am of the persuasion that men should have uniforms. You may have noticed this by the fact that I am always wearing the same thing. In case you're wondering what a uniform might consist of, here's mine:
Wrangler relaxed fit jeans
Chaps button up shirts
Columbia shorts
Pocket t-shirts
Vests (of every kind)
Leather shoes (boat, sandals, boots)
There are not going to be very many times you are going to catch me breaking uniform. In fact, if I thought I could really get away with it I would have seasonal uniforms and I would wear the exact same thing every day of the season. I do this in spurts of up to a week before Hannah gives me a subtle look like "you're kind of nasty...are you ever going to wash that?". The key principle of the uniform is this - you shouldnt have to think longer than 5 seconds about what you're going to wear.
Finally, dont be scared to become a chronic under-dresser. This does not apply to business settings of course but in social settings set your standard and maintain it. If you become known as the guy who wears jeans and a t-shirt to everything then no one is surprised when you show up in jeans and a t-shirt to everything. Case in point, we had 60 people at the house on New Years Eve and I had on shorts, a hooded sweatshirt and a blaze orange hunting parka.
Comfortable, durable, consistent and casual. That is men's fashion.
Friday, March 19, 2010
Disturbing
Little miss Elliott Ables was at the house last night and was wandering around so I decided to pick her up and take a stroll. Generally, my beard and sunglasses keep her entertained for at least a little while but I thought of something even more interesting to do with our time. In my mind I thought "she would like to see collection of once alive animals in my office". So off we went.
Once we got there I found myself saying the word "bird" over and over. She slapped the turkey wings a couple times, tried to stare down the pheasant and was somewhat confused by the fish. After I had said "bird" about 70 times and had her saying it along with me I suddenly became very aware that I have dead birds in my office. I actually really hate most birds so this was a disturbing realization.
Perhaps even more disturbing is the fact that I thought a tiny little girl with a pink monogrammed backpack would like to see it all. Animals are generally more enjoyable when they are alive like at a zoo. That's fun and it makes sense. Dead turkeys that look like they're flying in a holding pattern around your office is just strange.
Im sorry Elliott. You can start praying now for my kids.
Once we got there I found myself saying the word "bird" over and over. She slapped the turkey wings a couple times, tried to stare down the pheasant and was somewhat confused by the fish. After I had said "bird" about 70 times and had her saying it along with me I suddenly became very aware that I have dead birds in my office. I actually really hate most birds so this was a disturbing realization.
Perhaps even more disturbing is the fact that I thought a tiny little girl with a pink monogrammed backpack would like to see it all. Animals are generally more enjoyable when they are alive like at a zoo. That's fun and it makes sense. Dead turkeys that look like they're flying in a holding pattern around your office is just strange.
Im sorry Elliott. You can start praying now for my kids.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Just No.
There is no excuse for using the bathroom on a one hour plane ride. Im sorry but theres just not. First of all, shame on you for not going in the airport while you sat there and stared at the gate agent wondering when he/she was going to announce your flight. You clearly had ample time to do so and you chose not to. This is your fault so dont punish everyone else. Secondly, show a little bit of self control for crying out loud. I mean seriously, its like the plane hits 10000 feet and your bladder hits its breaking point? The fasten seatbelt sign goes off and its always a race to the lavatory. Gross. That thing smells bad regardless of what goes on in there and the people in the back of the plane just get suffocated with it.
After we had flown around the world we had our last flight of the day which is a one hour flight from DC to CHS. Our group had just gotten off of a 17 hr flight and we dominated the majority of the flight. But I swear that every person that was not in our group made a dash to the toilet after ten minutes. This was one of those way too small planes so the whole flight was like a nice cruise in a porta-john.
It bothered me. Drake noticed it. He said that I would write something about it. Here it is.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
COPS live in Kampala
So Michael and I are in downtown Kampala at rush hour on Friday afternoon trying to figure out exactly where Amanda, Kelly and Danielle are. The three of them had just taken a bus in from Masindi and we were playing a game of Marco Polo in a city of complete chaos. In Kampala there are basically no road signs and only about 5 or 6 major roads that change names constantly and have thousands of little side roads off of them with no demarcation. In order to get our bearings we pull off on the side of the road which just happens to be in front of the police station. This is what happens next:
Matt: You know we're in front of a police station right? (me being as cautious as always)
Michael: Its fine bro (Michael being as carefree as always)
Cop approaches car wearing fatigues with an AK47 and a baret
Cop: You can not park here. You are immediately arrested.
Michael: What?
Cop: You are going to be arrested. Give me your license.
Michael: I didnt know...we didnt know what we were doing.
Cop: Give me your license and pull up and to the left.
Matt: This should be interesting.
Michael: Alright man, let me get out of here and go BS with this guy for a few minutes.
Michael proceeds to get out of car with typical Michael style and start making some joke that the cop doesnt understand. Matt sits in car answering cell phone calls from Amanda wondering if Michael will get arrested and wondering if he will be forced to drive the roads in Kampala or come up with money to bail Michael out.
Cop: You give me 60000 UGS for this offense.
Michael: You give me a ticket and I'll be happy to pay the fine.
Cop: You dont want to do this. This is a very long process and its no good. You give me 60000.
Michael: Give me a ticket.
Cop: You give your friend (referring to himself) 10000.
Michael: Give me a ticket.
Cop: 10000 for your friend.
Michael: I need a ticket.
Cop: No ticket. I will pardon your for this serious offense.
The cop then proceeds to my door to give me a handshake and introduce himself and offer some advice about where the girls may be before wandering back to the station.
And people say there's corruption in Africa? Come on, its just a bunch of nice people trying to help soemone out.
Matt: You know we're in front of a police station right? (me being as cautious as always)
Michael: Its fine bro (Michael being as carefree as always)
Cop approaches car wearing fatigues with an AK47 and a baret
Cop: You can not park here. You are immediately arrested.
Michael: What?
Cop: You are going to be arrested. Give me your license.
Michael: I didnt know...we didnt know what we were doing.
Cop: Give me your license and pull up and to the left.
Matt: This should be interesting.
Michael: Alright man, let me get out of here and go BS with this guy for a few minutes.
Michael proceeds to get out of car with typical Michael style and start making some joke that the cop doesnt understand. Matt sits in car answering cell phone calls from Amanda wondering if Michael will get arrested and wondering if he will be forced to drive the roads in Kampala or come up with money to bail Michael out.
Cop: You give me 60000 UGS for this offense.
Michael: You give me a ticket and I'll be happy to pay the fine.
Cop: You dont want to do this. This is a very long process and its no good. You give me 60000.
Michael: Give me a ticket.
Cop: You give your friend (referring to himself) 10000.
Michael: Give me a ticket.
Cop: 10000 for your friend.
Michael: I need a ticket.
Cop: No ticket. I will pardon your for this serious offense.
The cop then proceeds to my door to give me a handshake and introduce himself and offer some advice about where the girls may be before wandering back to the station.
And people say there's corruption in Africa? Come on, its just a bunch of nice people trying to help soemone out.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Sharp Contrast
Uganda, like most Africa countries is an interesting place. It keeps you on your toes. Your senses are heightened by the sights, sounds and smells that you are continuously experiencing. A 5 minute car ride can provide more excitement than most people have ever had in their entire lives. You can come INCHES from hundreds of wrecks in a stretch of 2km. You can see 4 people on the back of moped. You can see 60 people in the back of an open truck. You will see child beggars carrying babies on their backs, people selling nearly anything you can imagine in your window at stops, traffic circles that boggle my mind and UN cars rushing by at what seems like 1000 mph.
Back to the title. Through a series of wild events we have made connections with some of the biggest players in this country. The kind of wealth that you would never know existed if someone didnt you to it. So, the other day Michael and I found ourselves meeting with arguably the most wealthy group in the country and one of the most well networked in all of Africa. We sat in a board room for an hour or so and talked with people who are pretty interested in what we're doing. This was probably the nicest office I have been in since I started coming to Uganda and we were talking with men who have serious business minds.
Three hours later we were on our way to Masindi and Michael and I look off to the side of the road at another serious business man. Only this business man isnt in quite as nice attire and instead of managing billions in oil he is managing a group of 15 cows. The peculiar thing was that he was working in only a pair of briefs...and I dont think it was casual day. This guys literally walks around smacking a cow in the ass with a switch all day in his tighty whities and he's clearly not embarrassed because he is walking one of the more major roads in UG.
It was funny because its just such drastic contrast. In three hours we went from the most prominent wealth in the country to a barely clothed man confined to a life of chasing cows. The truth is it wouldnt have taken three hours if we really wanted to see the contrast. It could have taken just minutes to be in the slums of a country where people have no hope of ever escaping the poverty that they were born into and will die in. These people literally have no way out. They live every day of their lives knowing that this is it for them. This is not like the US where more often times than not you have a way out if you work hard enough. Here, people work their entire lives - or they work to find work.
Seeing both the wealth and the poverty so clearly leaves me with little wonder why the violence explodes. I try to put myself in that same situation. If I knew I had no opportunity to grow, advance or succeed. If every meal, car ride, health concern, phone call was a cost you could not afford. If you watched the people around you dying, the population growing (2nd highest birth rate in the world) and becoming more crowded with more competition for scarce resources, poor sanitation and heat without access to clean water what would you do? THEN, if you watched the church, the government and the wealthy fall further into corruption that robs resources from the people that need it. If you watched the leadership manipulate the people to create greater wealth for themselves how would you feel? You would be filled with rage. You would be overcome with jealousy, envy, frustration and anger which with enough time becomes explosive. Most importantly, millions are living without hope of things every getting any better.
Crazy.
I hope this changes in my lifetime. I hope we see a new generation of leaders in Africa committed to God and their people. I hope that if the right leadership shows up the people will respond.
Back to the title. Through a series of wild events we have made connections with some of the biggest players in this country. The kind of wealth that you would never know existed if someone didnt you to it. So, the other day Michael and I found ourselves meeting with arguably the most wealthy group in the country and one of the most well networked in all of Africa. We sat in a board room for an hour or so and talked with people who are pretty interested in what we're doing. This was probably the nicest office I have been in since I started coming to Uganda and we were talking with men who have serious business minds.
Three hours later we were on our way to Masindi and Michael and I look off to the side of the road at another serious business man. Only this business man isnt in quite as nice attire and instead of managing billions in oil he is managing a group of 15 cows. The peculiar thing was that he was working in only a pair of briefs...and I dont think it was casual day. This guys literally walks around smacking a cow in the ass with a switch all day in his tighty whities and he's clearly not embarrassed because he is walking one of the more major roads in UG.
It was funny because its just such drastic contrast. In three hours we went from the most prominent wealth in the country to a barely clothed man confined to a life of chasing cows. The truth is it wouldnt have taken three hours if we really wanted to see the contrast. It could have taken just minutes to be in the slums of a country where people have no hope of ever escaping the poverty that they were born into and will die in. These people literally have no way out. They live every day of their lives knowing that this is it for them. This is not like the US where more often times than not you have a way out if you work hard enough. Here, people work their entire lives - or they work to find work.
Seeing both the wealth and the poverty so clearly leaves me with little wonder why the violence explodes. I try to put myself in that same situation. If I knew I had no opportunity to grow, advance or succeed. If every meal, car ride, health concern, phone call was a cost you could not afford. If you watched the people around you dying, the population growing (2nd highest birth rate in the world) and becoming more crowded with more competition for scarce resources, poor sanitation and heat without access to clean water what would you do? THEN, if you watched the church, the government and the wealthy fall further into corruption that robs resources from the people that need it. If you watched the leadership manipulate the people to create greater wealth for themselves how would you feel? You would be filled with rage. You would be overcome with jealousy, envy, frustration and anger which with enough time becomes explosive. Most importantly, millions are living without hope of things every getting any better.
Crazy.
I hope this changes in my lifetime. I hope we see a new generation of leaders in Africa committed to God and their people. I hope that if the right leadership shows up the people will respond.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Gettin it done in Kampala
After a couple short flights and one that would test anyones patience we arrived in Kampala and were greeted by a few familiar faces. One of them was Michael which was a very welcome sight. Once we packed the vans down it was time for me to ride with Michael on the roads of Entebbe and Kampala to pick up Amanda and then send the team on to Masindi.
If you've ever ridden with Michael in the car its always a very interesting experience. On a number of occasions in the states I have watched him fade off into the zone and run red lights, run into ditches etc. So, I was definitely interested to see how it would be riding with him in what I would consider to be the most chaotic driving conditions anywhere on the planet. To make matters even more interesting, he and I are currently staying in a house atop a large hill overlooking Lake Victoria that requires some skilled driving up steep, muddy roads. To add an even more interesting twist it has been raining for hours each day and every ride up and down the hill is like a large sled on pure ice. Thankfully, he has learned the aggressive driving techniques that it takes to survive and we're getting around perfectly. We get plenty of looks cruising around as a couple white guys in a land cruiser like we own the place but its all good.
Today we had a couple meetings in town that both turned out to be positive. First we met with the engineer we have contracted for the clinic who is very knowledgeable and has great insight into building practices in the country. Then we met with a man named Fisher for lunch who works with an investment group in Kampala. That was an interesting meeting as he called the First Lady on the spot to ask her to attend our groundbreaking ceremony....which apparently we are going to start planning tomorrow with his help. To say the least he has the country's leadership at his fingertips and is very interested in what we are doing on a lot of different levels.
Tomorrow its a number of meetings and then on to Masindi where we'll spend a couple days trying to get things sorted out for the land lease and approval for the project through town council. It will be a long day and an adventurous drive to Masindi with Michael but Im sure it will be a blast.
In talking with Marianne today it sounds like clinic was a long first day. 400 people in line at Rev. Francis's church and some rough cases including one lady that needed emergency transportation as her condition was beyond critical. Im sure that the team needs encouragement tonight after a long first day but hopefully this will be a foundation from which they can grow throughout the week as they figure out how to work as a team to provide optimal care to all those they will come in contact with.
Good stuff happening as always. Challenging and unpredictable but good.
www.palmettomedical.org/blog
If you've ever ridden with Michael in the car its always a very interesting experience. On a number of occasions in the states I have watched him fade off into the zone and run red lights, run into ditches etc. So, I was definitely interested to see how it would be riding with him in what I would consider to be the most chaotic driving conditions anywhere on the planet. To make matters even more interesting, he and I are currently staying in a house atop a large hill overlooking Lake Victoria that requires some skilled driving up steep, muddy roads. To add an even more interesting twist it has been raining for hours each day and every ride up and down the hill is like a large sled on pure ice. Thankfully, he has learned the aggressive driving techniques that it takes to survive and we're getting around perfectly. We get plenty of looks cruising around as a couple white guys in a land cruiser like we own the place but its all good.
Today we had a couple meetings in town that both turned out to be positive. First we met with the engineer we have contracted for the clinic who is very knowledgeable and has great insight into building practices in the country. Then we met with a man named Fisher for lunch who works with an investment group in Kampala. That was an interesting meeting as he called the First Lady on the spot to ask her to attend our groundbreaking ceremony....which apparently we are going to start planning tomorrow with his help. To say the least he has the country's leadership at his fingertips and is very interested in what we are doing on a lot of different levels.
Tomorrow its a number of meetings and then on to Masindi where we'll spend a couple days trying to get things sorted out for the land lease and approval for the project through town council. It will be a long day and an adventurous drive to Masindi with Michael but Im sure it will be a blast.
In talking with Marianne today it sounds like clinic was a long first day. 400 people in line at Rev. Francis's church and some rough cases including one lady that needed emergency transportation as her condition was beyond critical. Im sure that the team needs encouragement tonight after a long first day but hopefully this will be a foundation from which they can grow throughout the week as they figure out how to work as a team to provide optimal care to all those they will come in contact with.
Good stuff happening as always. Challenging and unpredictable but good.
www.palmettomedical.org/blog
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Africa I
My experience with Africa has been an interesting one as Im sure it has been for most everyone who has had the opportunity to spend time there. In my opinion there is nothing that you can do that will prepare you for what you will experience on that continent. Your first time stepping off the plane and being thrust into the landscape and culture is one of the most foreign feelings that I can imagine.
As I sat in the house last night I was reminded through a documentary on HBO of what a fragile place Africa is. I was reminded that though I have become somewhat comfortable in Uganda, the surrounding countries are still filled with murder, rape and corruption on every level. Africa can become overwhelming to the mind in seconds and can feel like 100 million pounds on your back. I really believe this is why so many people start with a great hope for things to change and end up tired, frustrated and out of compassion.
My relationship with Africa began in college. I'll never forget the morning before school that my dad called around 7:30 am. My dad is a lifelong businessman and I can definitely attribute some of my seriousness to him...but he can also be so serious that you feel like you're in a board meeting when he calls to check in. Anyway, he calls and says "Son, I wanted to let you know that your mom and I are thinking about adopting two boys from Africa. They were at our church last night with a group of other orphan boys and your mom and I think we might move forward with this." Me - "Sounds great, let me know what happens." In my head I thought this was another one of dad's big dramatic things that he announces with no emotion which makes it even more dramatic.
Next day. Another phone call from dad. "Son, your mom and I are moving forward with the paperwork to adopt these two boys." Me - "Really? Wow. Ummm...who are they again? Where are they from? Are they black? Ok. Let me know how it goes." What the day before had felt like a total joke now seemed to have the potential to change my family and the way things had been my entire life. I knew next to nothing about Africa. I had not even seen a picture of these kids. I had no warning. It just happened.
I can remember one thing that went through my head was every racist comment or joke someone had made in the last ten years. I could pick out every friend who had a racist leaning and none of it was okay any more. I knew at that moment there were going to be a lot of things that would not be quite so easy any more.
I can remember the first time I met David and Seeboe. They were both tiny. They were so thin that they really looked to be 8 years old though they were 12 and 13. I couldnt understand much of what they were saying but they smiled a lot and gave Josh and I hugs. That first night together we went out to dinner and all they wanted to listen to on the radio was country music. We were still struggling through the whole communication thing but they clearly wanted us to stop on every country station...a far cry from what they're listening to these days.
Then came a bunch of firsts. Thanksgiving, Christmas, Fox News, Readers Digest, Oprah Magazine etc. It was interesting watching it all unfold and being somewhat close to it all but still somewhat at a distance since I was in Charleston.
One of the things that my dad started to do with the boys every night was pray with them and for them. As the boys started communicating better and opening up it became clear that they still had orphaned brothers and sisters in Liberia. I know that their hearts were filled with sadness for them and it showed in the way that they prayed and cried at the thought of it.
So, my dad being a group guy just decided to adopt the rest of them. He and I are alike in that regard. When it comes to big things sometimes you cant think about it too much and you just have to go for it. Otherwise, you are bound to talk yourself out of it. I mean who adopts six kids from West Africa? It didnt make sense but thats ok because once the committment is there you wont see any backing down.
Back to phone calls from Dad. The next call that I got was another doozie. "Son, I want you to go to Liberia with me to meet the kids and get their paperwork started." Me - "Mmm let me see what that looks like with classes". The truth is that I had absolutely no intention of going on that trip. It scared me to think about and I had no interest in traveling to Africa. Honestly, I dont really think my dad did either but he was so determined to expedite the process that this was the only way he could really think of.
Long story short I decided to go. Liberia was just weeks out of the ceasefire from a 20 year civil war and we knew it was going to be tough. What my dad would tell me half way through the trip is "Son, I didnt want to say anything leading up to the trip but I have been having nightmares for the past two months that the rebels would capture me, cut off my arms and legs and hold me hostage". Awesome. Thanks dad.
I thought I was prepared for the trip. I thought that my time in 3rd world countries in Central America and other places around the world would prepare me. I thought I had some idea about what I was getting into. I didnt.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Tempting
Reading in Hebrews this morning I ran across a verse that for the last several years has put things in perspective for me in regards to how Christ relates to our temptation, suffering and human experience. Hebrews 2:18 reads:
Because He Himself suffered when He was tempted, He is able to help those who are being tempted.
Later in the book at chapter 4 verse 15, Paul (assuming he was the author) writes:
For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin.
It is powerful to know that part of Christ's experience on earth was the same temptation that I face. Even more so to know that He suffered in the face of it but was never given to it. The temptation was real to him but it did not result in sin.
For guys I think we read this passage and all think the same thing when it comes to temptation...lust. Im sure this is half because its true but I also think we've been programmed to say that. Of course guys are going to be attracted to women and sometimes that attraction is going to go a step too far. But, I also think that there are temptations that are more subtle but that also divert our attention.
I find myself being tempted with all the opportunity that is out there in the world. My mind can often begin racing with business and ministry ideas around the globe. Opportunities arise and I can begin to entertain things without really checking to see if they align with what Christ is doing and where He is working. Im definitely not saying that a business or entrepreneurial mind is a bad thing but when new ideas distract from those places where God is already working then you may miss out on some amazing things.
Its very funny to me that Satan tries to tempt Christ with offering Him the world in Matthew 4. That in itself is a picture of how ridiculous and twisted Satan can be and the way that He manipulates truth. But, as I was thinking this morning I can definitely see how that temptation has played itself out in our world. Men and women who have given up everything in pursuit of money and a title. Again, being successful is not a bad thing but I just wonder how many people began to pursue the temptation of "you can have it all" and missed out on some amazing things that God was doing in their midst or would have loved to use their lives for.
Renew our minds and give us the strength to stay focused regardless of the temptation.
Because He Himself suffered when He was tempted, He is able to help those who are being tempted.
Later in the book at chapter 4 verse 15, Paul (assuming he was the author) writes:
For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin.
It is powerful to know that part of Christ's experience on earth was the same temptation that I face. Even more so to know that He suffered in the face of it but was never given to it. The temptation was real to him but it did not result in sin.
For guys I think we read this passage and all think the same thing when it comes to temptation...lust. Im sure this is half because its true but I also think we've been programmed to say that. Of course guys are going to be attracted to women and sometimes that attraction is going to go a step too far. But, I also think that there are temptations that are more subtle but that also divert our attention.
I find myself being tempted with all the opportunity that is out there in the world. My mind can often begin racing with business and ministry ideas around the globe. Opportunities arise and I can begin to entertain things without really checking to see if they align with what Christ is doing and where He is working. Im definitely not saying that a business or entrepreneurial mind is a bad thing but when new ideas distract from those places where God is already working then you may miss out on some amazing things.
Its very funny to me that Satan tries to tempt Christ with offering Him the world in Matthew 4. That in itself is a picture of how ridiculous and twisted Satan can be and the way that He manipulates truth. But, as I was thinking this morning I can definitely see how that temptation has played itself out in our world. Men and women who have given up everything in pursuit of money and a title. Again, being successful is not a bad thing but I just wonder how many people began to pursue the temptation of "you can have it all" and missed out on some amazing things that God was doing in their midst or would have loved to use their lives for.
Renew our minds and give us the strength to stay focused regardless of the temptation.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Im still scared of girls
Its true. I am still very afraid of women in general. Perhaps now even more so than when I was in middle school. I can hang out with pretty much any guy in the world and never think twice about it. I can hang out with guys on death row or some of the most successful men in this country and feel perfectly at ease. However, I can also be thrown completely off my game by 16 year old girl.
Im really not quite sure why this is. Thankfully, there are a few women in my life who I feel pretty comfortable around. Of course Hannah is one of them but then we also have a group of friends who for the most part I can be normal around. But, there are also so many people that I dont know really well that still freak me out. They dont freak me out in a bad way but I get a little clammy and anxious in my head. Its so strange. Me, a big guy who probably comes off as a "man's man" hunter, fisher, outdoorsman, whiskey drinking, pickup driving guy...nervous in conversations with girls.
One possibility is that I have absolutely no game whatsoever. I am not a casual talker, group person or super social individual. Small talk is not a skill which I possess in the least. This is why if you ever get invited to a big party at my house you probably wont be able to find me. Or, if you do, I will be in a group no larger than four with plenty of escape routes. So, maybe its that I feel like Im coming on a little strong and Im insecure about my ability to just mingle. As Hannah can tell you I dont really do the casual thing...ie our second date I told her I wanted a serious committed relationship. She had just turned 17 at the time.
Another possibility is eye contact. I used to know this guy who everyone talked about as having the hawk eye. When he talked to you it was like he was staring through your brain and could actually see out of the back of your head. It was terrifying. Ever since then I have always wondered silently about what kind of eye contact I am maintaining with people. Guys I dont really care about but I always think that Im coming across as STARING at women so then I just look all around the place and probably sometimes seem disinterested in the conversation. In fact, there are actually two conversations going on at the same time. The conversation that myself and the girl are having and the one that is going on in my head requesting that I stop being so weird.
A third possibility is that most girls really do think Im an uncomfortable person to talk to. I would completely understand that. I know I am not a very approachable person. I cringe at most social situations which makes me want to hide a lot. I am also a big, bearded, Paul Bunyan looking man and that is not the first person you run to for a fun little chat. That is the person you have a "fireside" talk (as Josh and I have come to call it) with about life and the big things.
The truth is though that I really want to know these people. I really do care about their lives and I would love to know them on a deeper level. The last thing that I want is for them to see me as a stand offish guy who would do anything to avoid spending 10 minutes with them. I have always been blessed with great female friends who have taught me a lot and some I have been friends with for a good chunk of my life.
So girls please dont think I am weird or awkward. I am but please dont think so.
At the end of the day I am definitely still a shy, somewhat introverted and cautious person. Thank God for my wonderful wife who I can completely be myself around but who is still more beatiful, fun and supportive every day.
Im really not quite sure why this is. Thankfully, there are a few women in my life who I feel pretty comfortable around. Of course Hannah is one of them but then we also have a group of friends who for the most part I can be normal around. But, there are also so many people that I dont know really well that still freak me out. They dont freak me out in a bad way but I get a little clammy and anxious in my head. Its so strange. Me, a big guy who probably comes off as a "man's man" hunter, fisher, outdoorsman, whiskey drinking, pickup driving guy...nervous in conversations with girls.
One possibility is that I have absolutely no game whatsoever. I am not a casual talker, group person or super social individual. Small talk is not a skill which I possess in the least. This is why if you ever get invited to a big party at my house you probably wont be able to find me. Or, if you do, I will be in a group no larger than four with plenty of escape routes. So, maybe its that I feel like Im coming on a little strong and Im insecure about my ability to just mingle. As Hannah can tell you I dont really do the casual thing...ie our second date I told her I wanted a serious committed relationship. She had just turned 17 at the time.
Another possibility is eye contact. I used to know this guy who everyone talked about as having the hawk eye. When he talked to you it was like he was staring through your brain and could actually see out of the back of your head. It was terrifying. Ever since then I have always wondered silently about what kind of eye contact I am maintaining with people. Guys I dont really care about but I always think that Im coming across as STARING at women so then I just look all around the place and probably sometimes seem disinterested in the conversation. In fact, there are actually two conversations going on at the same time. The conversation that myself and the girl are having and the one that is going on in my head requesting that I stop being so weird.
A third possibility is that most girls really do think Im an uncomfortable person to talk to. I would completely understand that. I know I am not a very approachable person. I cringe at most social situations which makes me want to hide a lot. I am also a big, bearded, Paul Bunyan looking man and that is not the first person you run to for a fun little chat. That is the person you have a "fireside" talk (as Josh and I have come to call it) with about life and the big things.
The truth is though that I really want to know these people. I really do care about their lives and I would love to know them on a deeper level. The last thing that I want is for them to see me as a stand offish guy who would do anything to avoid spending 10 minutes with them. I have always been blessed with great female friends who have taught me a lot and some I have been friends with for a good chunk of my life.
So girls please dont think I am weird or awkward. I am but please dont think so.
At the end of the day I am definitely still a shy, somewhat introverted and cautious person. Thank God for my wonderful wife who I can completely be myself around but who is still more beatiful, fun and supportive every day.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Reservations
The real test of a saint is not one’s willingness to preach the gospel, but one’s willingness to do something like washing the disciples’ feet— that is, being willing to do those things that seem unimportant in human estimation but count as everything to God. It was Paul’s delight to spend his life for God’s interests in other people, and he did not care what it cost. But before we will serve, we stop to ponder our personal and financial concerns— "What if God wants me to go over there? And what about my salary? What is the climate like there? Who will take care of me? A person must consider all these things." All that is an indication that we have reservations about serving God. But the apostle Paul had no conditions or reservations. Paul focused his life on Jesus Christ’s idea of a New Testament saint; that is, not one who merely proclaims the gospel, but one who becomes broken bread and poured-out wine in the hands of Jesus Christ for the sake of others.
I pray that Palmetto Medical will continue to be at least in some ways what Paul had in mind when he thought of a New Testament saint. I want this organization to never back down when asked why we do what we're doing but at the same time I hope that our actions will always come first and allow time for the Holy Spirit to work before the words come. We all want Your best for this organization and this seems to be how You are making us unique. I pray that You will show us how to wash the feet of those in Masindi and in the destinations that are still to come.
Continue to give us the strength to stand in a place where we can be used by you and be receptive to your guidance. Help us to be continually aware of where you are at work and constantly strive to align ourselves with that. If we move outside of your direction quickly draw us back in. Continue to do things in a way that are so profound that only You can receive the glory for all that is accomplished. Amen.
I pray that Palmetto Medical will continue to be at least in some ways what Paul had in mind when he thought of a New Testament saint. I want this organization to never back down when asked why we do what we're doing but at the same time I hope that our actions will always come first and allow time for the Holy Spirit to work before the words come. We all want Your best for this organization and this seems to be how You are making us unique. I pray that You will show us how to wash the feet of those in Masindi and in the destinations that are still to come.
Continue to give us the strength to stand in a place where we can be used by you and be receptive to your guidance. Help us to be continually aware of where you are at work and constantly strive to align ourselves with that. If we move outside of your direction quickly draw us back in. Continue to do things in a way that are so profound that only You can receive the glory for all that is accomplished. Amen.
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