THE OLD COLLEGE TRY ╬

the hunter becomes the hunted

2011-03-10T10:14:00.000-08:00

last night's sermon at mosaic was about faithfulness, and the famous geyser was on display. we also talked about david the second king of the hebrews. these guys used papyrus for TP if you know what i mean. they were ballers. but that was later in life. it really got me thinking, though, about david's early life as a shepherd, about the lion and the bear David had to fight before he was "ready" to kill Goliath. wait, what? for a moment i snapped out of the fairy tale daze i usually sit in during sermons and was like, "really?" was david endowed with superhuman strength on account of his friendship with yahweh? was david some type of jedi? either the account is legendary, which i'll admit is possible, or true. then, i dug up this.

Lift

2010-02-01T13:43:00.000-08:00

I take most of my life metaphors from aviation. There's something about leaving the comfort of the ground that so describes the joys and sorrows of life. All the "white-knuckled flights" of our lives build character, and any landing you walk away from is a good one. There's no substitute for experience. You get scared later, and you have to plan to succeed. Booze rarely helps, and while courage is a plus, macho=stupid. Ask for help. Trust your gut. Remember to thank those who help you along the way. A little prudence goes a long way, but if you want to leave the ground, you have to fly!

Rejection vs grace

2010-01-18T17:06:00.000-08:00

I'm writing because I think someone may benefit. Even one person would be well worth it. I want to do my part to get the truth out there.

In Fall 2007, after years of experiencing drastic and unfruitful ups and downs in my Christian walk, at school I took a Galatians Thessalonians Bible literature class with Pastor Craig Krueger, who leads Sojourn Campus Church at the UofM. Craig is a smart guy, and I really connected with his teaching style. Halfway through the class, we arrived in Galatians 5, and Pastor Craig ended the day's lecture describing the difference between Enlightenment-style freedom and the freedom we have in Christ.

Enlightenment freedom: self-oriented, humanistic, freedom to live as one pleases
Freedom in Christ: others-oriented, freedom from law, freedom to love

Something inside me switched on, and I couldn't move. I sat in my chair, my mind streaming with thoughts, until everyone had left. I realized that when I choose to follow Christ, all my efforts are like worthless rags. I felt humbled and free from the legalistic mindset that I must "purify" or "save myself" from trouble. In essence, I "let go and let God."

The next few months of my life were beautiful and full of grace! I spent my days praying and seeking the Lord. I developed closer and more meaningful relationships with other believers. I had words to say about things. I knew they were from the Lord, and I knew it was He, not me, working (and more importantly, receiving the glory!)

My closest friends know very well that my "grace encounter" changed my entire life, but since then I have revisited the past. As I grow closer to wonderful and godly woman, I have seen tendencies surface for perfectionism, striving and self-absorption. In short, although I was walking in wonderful things of the Lord and falling in love with woman who complements me in every way, I was unable to enjoy most of it.

I was trying too hard. Way too hard. I was trying to save my life when losing it is the only way to live. I was trying to work on my salvation-- to keep at it long and strong enough that God would keep loving me.

My inner child came to the forefront during this time, and I realized I was not a whole person. I was broken. Unable to receive the love of God or others, I was also unable to fully give it. I struggled with the simple things. I was always watching my back. I was striving.

I shared this with a spiritual mentor and received confirmation that I was struggling with a spirit of rejection. Past experiences had colored my view of the world so that I thought I would need to do something in order to receive love. Rather than accepting the peace of the moment, I struggled to just "be" and allow God to "be" Himself.

Here are the symptoms of rejection:
1) Striving
2) Heaviness
3) Guilt
4) Legal mindset
5) Inability to receive love or connect with God, or fully love others

Here is the freedom of grace:
1) Freedom
2) Acceptance
3) Forgiveness
4) Humility
5) A loving view of God, others and especially self

I am still walking out my healing. My next step is to pray and ask the Lord to bring to mind every person who has ever hurt me so I can release those hurts to the Lord. I believe He will do it. In the meantime, feel able to receive love again. I recently emailed a friend. "Last night was the first time ever I really believed that God (and Kelly) love me for who I am and not in spite of who I am. It was a strange and beautiful experience, like hearing a new foreign language or getting off a plane in Florida in January and feeling the balmy air all around you." That's grace!

So, although in 2007 I found grace, three years would pass before I had the emotional and spiritual understanding to realize why I needed it. As Pastor Craig puts it, "You have to go through the Bible and find all the verses that are too nice. And then, read nothing but those."

Feels good :)

Red-faced

2009-12-22T19:14:00.000-08:00

Jesus, welcome to earth
red-faced and wearing
a frail human body
your own, now.

You are not trapped here, no,
leaving is something.
Just say it, something like
I'm Done With You, Kids.

If you want to stay, run.
Swiftly south.
You are a wanted child, and someday, baby Jesus
they will finally find you.

Cry, but don't sweat it.
This isn't your life,
nor your plan.
Cry, but don't let it get to you, child.

What's next is in your Father's hands
and these next few years you will know Him well
and someday you will say with otherworldly confidence:
if you know me, you know Him.

But they'll call you a drunkard and a glutton
a friend of sinners and tax collectors.
Oh, well,
can't please them all.

Someday,
your friend Peter will hear you ask him to, "Feed my sheep"
knowing full well that
you have always done just that.

Jesus, let it all go, everything not from the Father
because it's all about Him now
and you will give your life for these children of his,
these sheep.

Baby, baby,
you're free to live for yourself
or to give it all away.
Welcome to earth.

How to talk to an ornery OTR truck driver who's just about lost his marbles trying to jackknife his rig into the dock

2009-12-01T09:34:00.000-08:00

There ain’t no class A minus

So stop all your whining.

Everyone else can do it, so

Put her in gear and move it.

Chock when you’re done,

Bathrooms at the front.

And, DUDE, you could really use some home time

For ~~a shower~~ yourself.

I was there, too

2009-11-27T07:41:00.000-08:00

I was there when He put together this thing in my life called the Kingdom, the unshakeable thing called Love. I was there when it happened, and yet I still fail to understand the gravity of what exactly is happening. It's not skepticism that elicits this confusion; it's realizing that I'm living the greatest mystery every conceived: God as Christ in man, for the glory of the Father. This is it. This is my life, just another day, just another chance to live this mystery. I've been commanded to "Walk by faith and not by sight," and I'll do just that today.

I would write you a sonnet

2009-11-07T23:20:00.000-08:00

But that would be trying too hard. What am about to say is me, revealed through a keyboard, and published through electrons flying through some silicon circuits. If that isn't enough, you already know what I'm writing as I write, so there's no need to publish. Still, we go forward.

Jesus, I admire you, man. You really did it all. You lived a good life, with a job and maybe some friends to show for it all. You didn't have a wife or kids. Maybe, they wondered about that, but it didn't seem to bother them. I think they liked you, Jesus. I wouldn't say you were popular because I don't know, but I honestly believe you were a friend to many people before you started your public ministry.

And then, your mom came and tapped you on the shoulder, and you didn't want to start yet. But you did, anyway. Jesus, are you a mama's boy? I think that you are. That's not a bad thing; I am, too.

And then, you began pouring yourself out, Jesus. Every day you did. Why, sometimes, I can barely believe the stuff you put up with! Sinful people, unbelieving hearts, a rebellious generation. You just took it in stride; you knew you were here to serve. You didn't worry about yourself; you poured yourself out.

And here I am, Jesus, barely able to contain my love for you. I just suck at loving you. I feel that most days, when Holy Spirit fire doesn't burn a path from my car into the receiving dock where I punch the clock and pray for civility until I can go back home and wonder why I didn't do more for you.

And here I am, Jesus, barely able to contain my excitement for you. Jesus, your wedding is coming soon. You so deserve it, man! I can't wait to see you in your suit, the one you picked out just for the occasion. What will you wear? I'm sure you'll look awesome!

Sometimes, Jesus, I feel you're near and that the world is well. Actually, that's not true. You're near, but the world is not well. The world is swiftly going berserk. I promise you it is, Jesus. There's nothing good about the news that we see; it's all the same empty promises from politicians and no real hope for the future apart from you. Obama who? He's just a dude from Chicago; he's not going to save the whole world unless someone much bigger than him intervenes. Right?

Jesus, you've taught me so much in my short life. You instructed me about your Father's Law, and then you showed me how you would fulfill it. You fulfilled it in me. That's what I'm talking about, man! You really did it! Good job, Jesus! I love the works you've done. They are like fresh water in the mouth of a desert wanderer. Your works all add up to good!

Take these prayers, Jesus, and really think about them, because you deserve praise. No one deserves praise but you. I hope that, today, you see and hear and smell a whole host of people worshipping you in Spirit and in Truth. You deserve it.

Love,

Andrew

This is what you get

2009-09-29T14:23:00.000-07:00

I'll tell you what I'll tell you, I'll tell it, and then I'll tell you what I told you.

God is faithful.

Many of the Christ follower's struggles come from wrong perceptions or beliefs about the character of God. Simply, we do not believe he is who he says he is. This lack of faith is unbelief, and unbelief is a sin. It's a crippling sin, too, because faith is what the ancients were commended for. Without faith, it is impossible to please God. No faith, no commendation, but if we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us.

God is faithful.

My prayer: That I might rise up from the decay of mediocrity into the truth of Christ, the Word and the Son of God. Christ is Lord over all things. I submit to his purposes. I think not of myself, in the end, but of Him and his calling. Presently, there is nothing I want more than to find myself on the receiving end of this prayer. Until then, God is faithful.

Together Again ... Newly

2009-08-26T19:57:00.000-07:00

Dear God,

I make a bad show of following you, I really do. Because my life feels like a rollercoaster, and not the smooth kind with sexy inversions and air brakes that hiss pleasingly as the kids' screaming fades to laughter and smiles.

My roller coaster is the Chiropractor's Special, that 4:59 minute ride that jars every bone in your body at least ten times. My roller coaster is wooden, a bit mysterious and only ridden often by the kids who are too lazy to wait in lines.

I feel this way, I really do, like my attempts to follow you take me down the iron track of a vicious wooden monster. And so, to cope with the roller coaster, I turn to God. And back to God. And back to God again.

But what about the Gospel I know and believe? What about that? What does the Gospel have to do with the roller coaster? Well, not much, because the Gospel is about sin and salvation of the entire human race, not one person's struggle for significance and inner peace in his or her day-to-day life.

And I've struggled, for some time, with thoughts of selfishness when I know I ought to be selfless. I ought to give all I am for this Gospel, but instead I am inside my head. I'm perfectly content with who I am, I suppose. I'm a good and moral person; I lack in some ways. But there's this Gospel there, that calls me to follow Christ and spread the good news in ways that are unbelievable. Dead shall be raised. Blind shall see. Faith like a child shall rule the day.

I feel like a pile of crap because my brothers and sisters around the world are just fighting for bread, for freedom and for their lost countrymen. I so want to join in the fight, but I feel to rich, spoiled and selfish to even know where to start.

I suppose I shouldn't start with me or what I bring. For if I bring $1 million or $1, I bring me, all of me. That's all I can bring. I bring my love, my respect, my kindness, my ability to persevere, my sense of duty and significance, my wisdom, my hope, my peace, my joy. I bring all these things, by the grace of God.

I bring myself, just as I am. And that is always enough.

This time around, I bring myself, but it's not about me. I choose to go forward.

But I can't. Because I've been riding this coaster for a couple weeks now, and all I know is I want to get off. I don't know how. God will have to take me off. God will have to help me. I could keep writing, or I could start praying. The choice is entirely mine.

I choose the latter.

Love,
Andrew, your human/perfectionist son

p.s. Maybe this prayer/letter is too personal for a blog, but nobody reads this anyway!

Evil days

2009-08-04T15:03:00.000-07:00

Positively, wherever you go, there you will be
But if you are asked to leave that place,
Don't hesitate.
Don't wait.
Run.
Fly.
GO!

Deity

2009-08-03T10:54:00.000-07:00

a poem by John F. Deane

Unholy we sang this morning, and prayed
as if we were not broken, crooked
the Christ-figure hung, splayed
on bloodied beams above us;
devious God, dweller in shadows,
mercy on us;
immortal, cross-shattered Christ--
your gentling grace down upon us.

Side story: The 2009 Tour de France

2009-07-27T14:35:00.000-07:00

I don't keep photo albums, but occasionally I file away a memorable image. Something like the above pic has staying power for me. It's two brothers and a Spanish guy who climbs like a mountain goat that's been puffing meth.

A caption might read: "With the hopes of Team Saxo Bank on the line, Andy Schleck pulls brother Frank (Saxo Bank) and archrival Contador (Astana)."

By scheduling the gnarliest climb stage 'till the second to last day, the 2009 Tour de France organizers saved the best action for last, assuring better TV ratings and more overall interest. By delaying the fireworks, the best riders would save their most brilliant moves for last, as the final stage in Paris is more-or-less a parade on the Champs d'Elysse.

On that penultimate day, Spanish prodigy Alberto Contador, already winner of the 2006 TdF by default [American Floyd Landis was DQed for doping], held several minutes over Andy Shleck in the general classification. Seven-time Tour winner Lance Armstrong, whose gray hairs now peek out from under his cycling cap, held third at the age of 37. Britain's Brad Wiggins, new to the Tour after winning a gold medal in track cycling in Beijing, was a nice surprise in fourth, especially for Garmin Slipstream fans like this blogger. Wiggins had a minute and change over Frank, the elder Schleck, who rounded out the top 5.

The Schlecks promised they would attack on the penultimate day. They would lose Lance and Wiggins. They would weaken Contador. They would carry out their plan to disrupt Astana's dominance.

So, the Top 5, in review: two Astanas (1 and 3), two Saxo Banks (2 and 5) and a British guy riding for an American team and hanging on for dear life!

The scene of the shootout? Perfectly horrid.

"It's more like the moon than a mountain," Lance Armstrong once said of it, and with its lack of vegetation, abundance of rocks and desolate, intimidating atmosphere, it's an apt description.

It's been the scene of meltdowns, breakdowns and even death.

Britain's Tom Simpson, the first Anglo Saxon to lead the race, died there in 1967 on a 43-degree day. -ABC Sport

So, Andy saved all his guile and vengeance for Ventoux.

He delivered. Ventoux is a bald mountain that kills people, and Shleck was riding it like a rented horse. At 24 years of age, his thin arms guiding his Specialized S3 up the windswept mountain, Andy's aggressive attacks shredded the entire field.

Only two riders on a long breakaway escaped Shleck's briliance: Spaniard Manuel Garate (Rabo Bank) and German Tony Martin (Columbia-HTC). Garate won the stage, but look for the latter rider in GC contention someday-- what a ride from the 24-year old.

Despite his brilliance on Ventoux, at no point did Andy Shleck appear to test Contador's otherwordly climbing abilities. Contador matched every attack, his yellow shoes dancing on the pedals of his Trek Madone. Contador made Ventoux look easy.

In the end, despite repeated attacks, Team Schleck failed to unseat Astana. Contador lost no time, Lance held onto 3rd, and Garmin Slipstream rider Wiggins somehow squeezed by Frank Schleck with three seconds in the GC.

Frank looked flat; he never dropped Armstrong, despite Andy's repeated attempts to open a hole.

Combine Contador's newfound skill in the time trials (he won the final TT), and you have a crystal clear picture of why any rider, let alone the confident Schleck, may not dethrone Contador for some time.

I saw three quarters of the TdF coverage, and I saw Contador grimace-- once. He made the rest of the mind-bending Tour looked easy, even his dash up Ventoux. In fact, Contador said that, with the internal tension between he and teammate Lance Armstrong, he had more trouble in the hotel than the road. I believe it.

Today, Contador finally spoke candidly about his strained relationship with Armstrong. The truth comes out, and it sounds ugly.

My advice to Contador: work on your English some, so you can talk to the media in the world's second language of choice; join Spanish squad Caisse D'Epargne, where it's rumored you'll go to ride with your buddy Luis Leon Sanchez; and don't cross Armstrong.

Everything 80s American cycling legend Greg LeMond was-- that chip-shouldered Yank with legs to back the mouth-- I think Lance is more. And he's riding next year, at 38 years of age, with his Blackberry chirping today with texts from riders interested in riding with his new team, backed by Fort Worth, Tex.-based Radio Shack.

It's too early to say whether Lance can attract enough talent to take on Garmin Slipstream (now officially as hot as the red sauce at Chipotle) or Saxo Bank (Swiss time trial champ Fabian Cancellara + Schlecks), but one thing is certain: Lance would love to take a yellow from Contador.

Enjoy your splendid victory, Alberto. You were bulletproof this Tour, but remember that someday you'll be Lance, 37 and legs aching all the way up the bald mountain of death.

Quote of the Day (7/25/09)

2009-07-24T23:58:00.000-07:00

"The real question you have to ask yourself is, 'Are you willing to exist or are you willing to be special'? And special is not what someone else thinks of you but what you think of yourself." -Malcolm Bricklin

Nowhere to be

2009-07-21T23:32:00.000-07:00

University of Minnesota's Dinkytown, intersection of cultures. You're never far from someone

Studying.

Walking.

Running.

She dressed in black, some working garb. Nervous, glancing over her shoulder.

He was also dressed in black, some street garb.

She sat in my booth and asked for sanctuary, and he (the hassling man) was gone.

A handshake. She warmed.

Her English. Okay.

My Mandarin. I squeezed my fingers together to make the universal symbol for "None."

She laughed. We chatted. My Bible was open.

Her heart was open. It's funny. In two days, I'll be meeting an old college buddy, Jim Tilus. He's ministering to Chinese students at the UofM. Small world.

Dinkytown, nowhere to be. Be where you are; watch what happens.

-ADB

Quote of the Day (7/20/09)

2009-07-20T14:57:00.000-07:00

"It was in the back of the bus in Guatemala, sitting with six people from Solomon's Porch, that it became clear to me. All of us were under age 35 (most under 28), and all of us quite versed in debt management and living off of "barely enough." Here we were, in a terribly poor part of a poor country, building houses for the poorest people, talking about how hard it is to live on what we all make. We were college graduates and teachers, and building contractors, and we concluded that we didn't make enough money. I began to see it clearly: we were all stuck in a consumerist mindset. Our coffee shop and restaurant expenses alone would build housing for the people of this village, if we simply lived on less."

-Doug Pagitt /Founding pastor of Solomon's Porch / Minneapolis, Minn. "The Consumer Trap" Leadership Journal, Fall 2002

How high is your ceiling?

2009-07-18T17:41:00.000-07:00

"Twilight on the Prairie" by Gayle Hartman

I am a big picture thinker. I am a big ideas thinker. I'm happiest in the "a-ha" moments of life, when thunderous ideas strike me down to size and fill me with energy.

So, I find of great interest this 2007 study showing that ceiling height impacts thinking. When indoors, a high ceiling induces big picture thinking and creativity. A low ceiling, on the other hand, allows one to pay attention to concrete details.

It's yet more evidence that place matters. In the office, you'll process details with precision and speed. In the coffee shop, where ceilings are usually higher, you'll be inspired to think big and outside the proverbial box, even indoors.

And what of the outdoors, the night sky? If tall ceilings provoke creativity and short ceilings lend themselves to details, what of the 15,000 foot ceiling?

What about the clear, blue night sky?

Perhaps, we ought to spend more time outdoors, our human fragility exposed but our minds buzzing with possibility. I have long maintained that we U.S. Americans are descendants of a frontier people, a campfire crowd, our optimism always on display. It's what makes us who we are, for better or worse.

Aspirational metaphors aside, how high is your ceiling?

St. Ignatius' General Examination of Conscience

2009-07-15T10:32:00.000-07:00

Inigo Lopez de Loyola, who later took the name Ignatius, was a Spanish (Basque) soldier of noble birth born in the 15th Century. Wounded in defense of a Spanish fort against the French, his captors were impressed by his courage and took mercy on him. They carried him away from the rubble, to France.

During his healing process in Paris, he began to lead a small band of friends in extended prayer and meditation. Then later the Society of Jesus. Today, those who follow these teachings are known as Jesuits. Three thousands Jesuits live and serve in the United States.

Ignatius' General Examination of Conscience seems to me a wonderful way of examining the "soul aches" or "sins" that can become unresolved sources of guilt.

1. Give thanks to God our Lord for the favors received
2. Ask for the grace to know your sins
3. Examine how you have lived this day
4. Ask forgiveness for any faults
5. Resolve to amend with the grace of God

According to the Jesuits' website,

It may be done at the end of each day, though it can be done more frequently as the person feels drawn. The more frequently performed, however, the more natural it becomes and more a way of growing into an ever-closer relationship with God. It can take anywhere between five and fifteen minutes, although it does not matter how long one spends. The important thing is to open oneself to recognizing and responding to God’s movement in your heart.

The story of Ignatius is a reminder that although growth in prayer is a regular discipline, sometimes a new setting and new challenges can make all the difference between acceptance of a mediocre lifestyle and a new awakening of passion for Jesus.

As I pray, the Holy Spirit challenges me to enjoy to prayer and to deal with my "soul aches," whatever they may be. I feel him leading me to perfect peace and emotional health more than any mystical connection. I'm more aware of God's tender love and mercy for me, and he also gives me "tough love" because I need that, too. I'd rather be honest and open than pray "neutered prayers" that don't lead me any closer to the Truth, so that is how I pray, raw and real.

New look

2009-07-13T19:41:00.000-07:00

My old blog, for all that it was, looked like crap. I hope people enjoy this new take. It's warm and rich but still a bit mysterious, as if history and future are aligned for a second under the streetlights.

I'll let a quote launch the new look.

"We must get beyond textbooks, go out into the bypaths... and tell the world the glories of our journey." -John Hope Franklin, Duke Law School

Enjoy.

Everything in blue is Love

2009-07-11T21:03:00.000-07:00

As an unpaid intern who sometimes fetched pizza and sometimes wrote press releases, I had been working with the Venture Expeditions guys for six months, promoting a 3,172 mile bicycle tour designed to raise money and awareness for Blood:Water Mission.

Venture granted me a few days riding from LA-SD with the team and a US Airways ticket back to MSP. This trip was my reward for my service. It was also the first time I met Mr. Pelttari, a principal's assistant most recently from Woodstock, Ill.

Without a doubt, Erik Pelttari is the gentlest spirit I have ever met who can rock a mohawk-- like a biker clad in leather-- or in this case a Ride:Well Tour jersey.

He's the real deal, a guy who really loves people. You can't fake that.

After few guys on the Ride:Well team shaved mohawks, Erik, their faithful small group leader, showed solidarity by carving out a swath of his short hair. Combined with a fabulous (and surprisingly "uncreepy") moustache worthy of a 1970s era middle reliever, Erik won the ironic hair contest hands-down.

The day we left Long Beach, Erik and I sat in Sunday school together and listened to a teaching I doubt resonated very much with either of us. By the time we left the class, I was frustrated. Sometimes, people can be right and entirely miss the point. Of everything.

Another rider, Bethany, was sitting on my right, and Erik on my left. Bethany comes from a stream outside the Assemblies of God (AG). Since were launching that day from an AG church, the AG topic came up. Myself student of an accredited AG institute of higher learning, I filled in Bethany on what I thought about the history and direction of the movement. You might call my briefing an informed critique.

Admittedly, I am egalitarian and pragmatic to a fault. I often say I'm "allergic" to the endless hierarchies and structures of religion. For me, the cumulative effects of living in "the club" without a real encounter with the living God (and each other) is as effective as replacing my daily Gatorade rations with watered down lye. It kills my soul and spirit. I check out.

At some point during the sermon that morning, Erik opened his Bible to the book of 1st John. "Everything in blue is Love," he told me before handing me the Bible. I pored over the highlighted pages.

Erik had used a blue highlighter to call attention to what we both understood to be a defining theme of the book. In fact, everything hinges on love: Johannine lit, Pauline lit, the New Testament, the Old Testament, the story of God, the world, the cosmos. It all rests on love, whatever Love is.

Erik noted that the ink had bled through the pages, as if he had somehow ruined the text. Yet, Erik's Bible still in my hands, I was beside myself. It was as if the emotions of months of the cumulative passion of the Ride:Well Tour has been combined into a few seconds. I felt the joy of new discovery and the rare feeling knowing someone else really understood.

If the entire universe hinges on this thing called Love, perhaps it's worth studying a bit? The willing crucifixion of Jesus Christ is regarded to be the greatest act of love in history, but what does it mean for my life? Today, I'm looking for something a bit deeper.

So, I'm going to knock on the door of a Danish existentialist named Søren Kierkegaard. Perhaps, his treatise "Works of Love" will unlock for me an additional layer of meaning. I've been in "Works of Love" before, but I didn't need to be. The encounter was cold. Now that I'm in this place, I expect a totally different reading of the text. Sometimes, you have to be ready ...

Sticky love

2009-07-06T23:21:00.000-07:00

It's been a long day. Against my better judgment, I've been trading sleeping time for reading and writing time. Tonight's reading is theophiliacs, which calls itself "the most prestigious post-evangelical tea party in the Twin Cities." A friend from the college newspaper days is a regular contributor. I can't tell if they're a big deal or not. Who cares? This blog is rocking.

The type of conversation at theophiliacs is akin to the "behind closed doors" discussions you might hear in a seminary library-- deconstructing culture and faith to its most ancient roots, no matter what "sacred cow" must be slaughtered on the way. Idealistic, of course, and a little pragmatic. I did enjoy the post "10 Things Christianity Must Do." It's a wish list for a Church we may never see. Yet, we must hope.

As I drifted off to sleep, another writer began to take the stage. This time, the writings of Paul washed over my mind. Tonight, the Apostle's words provoked in me a certain dissonance. I felt the familiar and disconcerting sensation of being so close to the Truth yet missing the essence, the takeaway.

"Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity." Col 3:12-14

And I ask myself, what is this Love, this adhesive which skillfully binds these virtuous elements?
I tossed and turned, because I had lost the point. And then I remembered his words "Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends." Jn 15:13

Sacrifice is a virtue, no doubt. Yet, this verse is missing the essence of Jesus' sacrifice. Paul clarifies the matter in Romans.

"Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." Rom 5:7-8

So, Jesus had a good idea that his sacrifice would be accepted by many, as his prayer in the same chapter of John indicates. Yet, the Romans passage tells us that he also knew that some would not accept the message.

It's not love for love's sake but love for Christ' sake. Maybe, Jesus is saying, "I laid down my life for you in hopes that you would do the same for me someday." It's not that our sacrifice would justify us before God, but perhaps our sacrifice would endear us to our Creator?

So, as I drift off to sleep, I will imagine what empathy I could show to God, if anything. It seems like he has been trying to help me understand how he feels, and that scares me. If God does have feelings, I might need to do things differently.

I think the god I made, the god without feelings, is sick. I think he's really sick. I can feel him dying inside me right now.

He who remains is alive, gleaming like the sun, ready to receive me now. It's taken all night to kill the god of my own creation, but he's dead now. So I can sleep.

Massive he remains. Smaller I shrink.

Big God. Big Love.

Dog days of summer

2009-07-06T21:34:00.000-07:00

The past two days, I have devoted my leisure time to breaking in my Vibram Five Fingers. I like this life. It keeps me healthy, wealthy and wise. Today, I took Sofia and Oliver, the Shepherd/Lab mix puppies, for another swim-- their second in as many days.

Sofia is a loveable dog because she is different. She was conceived when her father, a 100+ pound white German Shepherd, dug under a fence to declare his love for Mom, a smaller-sized Yellow lab. From their forbidden love, beautiful blonde puppies were born, and we picked her, the one who shyed away from the strangers. To this day, she still regards all strangers with painful suspicion.

While I haven't met Sofia's parents, she seems to take after Dad's breed, the German Shepherd. She is anxious-- always on the lookout for "hostiles" who want to hurt the pack. She diligently guards the entry and monitors traffic flow, both vehicular and pedestrian, through the cul-de-sac. With maniacal barking and occasional panic yelping, she alerts of any unusual activity, which in her mind means "all activity." She lives on pins and needles, and I think it makes her tired.

Yet, Sofia is faithful. She has been a protective and fun-loving outdoors companion since she was barely strong enough to walk. I vividly remember her soft furry body struggling through puddles twice her size, never missing a beat. Those who know her love her, even though she has a strange and obsessive personality. "It's not her fault she's weird," we say.

Besides her talents in running and security detail, Sofia also loves swimming. If you ever get the chance, observe her technique, her long legs stroking the water, her brown snout cutting just above the brown river water. She is graceful.

Today, I called Sofia and her brother out to the middle of the river, where I was floating a few few feet above the river bottom. With a kick and a splash, the dogs began treading furiously towards their pack leader.

Sofia, the better swimmer (and also the better listener), reached me first. Her paw found a solid place on my leg, and seeing her panting, I grabbed her in my arms and floated her along, the current streaming over my back as I began to move us upstream.

I hoped Sofia would come along and rest her heaving chest, but rather pathetically, she began to move her paws again. She thought she was the one moving us along! Seeing the futility of carrying her, I released her like a fish off the hook and pushed her butt towards shore. Sofia paddled back to the muddy bank and waited for her human to finish his soak.

During prayer tonight, I realized I have been Sofia. How can I rest if I won't stop swimming, and how can I move upstream without the Master? God isn't asking much of me-- only a few moments. Too often, I fail to oblige him, because I remain dutifully confident in my own abilities. I think this is sad.

God, you are my portion. Your word declares that they who wait on you will surely renew their strength. Help me to rest in your arms of love, before I grow weary. Help me to to release the externalities that drive my thoughts away from your grace so I may truly enjoy our rest. And if the current should ever prove too strong, carry me. I give you this day; it is all I have. If I see tomorrow, I pray I remember the day I learned to rest. Amen.

The sea

2009-06-22T07:48:00.000-07:00

I am born of the sea. In the innards of a swaying passenger liner, my ancestors imagined a new life for themselves, and now I am living it. I am descended from these, who took to the ocean to find new opportunity in a faraway land. And yet, what do I know of the sea which brought them here?

What do I know of the sea, which ebbs and flows with the changing of the moon?

What do I know of the sea, which churns in fury until all but the strongest are lost?

What do I know of the sea, which hides the secrets of time under miles of blackness?

What do I know of the sea, which jovially propels surfers in harmony with the waves?

What do I know of the sea, which orders the climates of entire regions?

What do I know of the sea, which can be sailed from port to port with a sail and a dream?

What do I know of the sea, which sends the rain across the continent and gives life to the land?

I know nothing of this sea. I was born of water, and it continues to give me life, but I know it not.

And what do I know of God? I was born of the water and the Spirit, and although I find great pleasure in following Christ, do I know Him?

Sometimes, I must ask myself what I am doing here before I can do it. I ask these questions today. This walk cannot decay to monotony, because we are a seafaring people.

We serve the One who, with a word, subdued the wind and the waves, who napped through a storm that threatened experienced fishermen into praying for their lives.

We serve the One who walked on water, not for magic's sake, but to show himself to his friends.

We serve the One who pulled a coin from a fish's mouth, who filled nets to overflowing and who rose from the dead, only to eat more fish.

Despite the Messiah's waterborne mastery, I have heard the Hebrews were terrified of the sea, and so are we. We do not wish to raise sail, because we do not trust the Captain. I, for one, have been chiefest of these cowards.

But today, I see a breeze. I feel in my Spirit an opportunity to sail away from the ordinary.

The truth is that when you are preparing to sail, you notice the details. "Red sky in the morning" the old rhyme goes, and as a sailor you're obsessed with the weather.

But can we see further and better than the Captain? We fear what we do not know, and we do not know Who we ought. But we must change.

For we a seafaring people, unfazed by wind and waves, our eyes fixed on the prize. This I know.

(Christian) Ecumenism is not a dirty word

2009-05-13T08:27:00.001-07:00

פ ר ש נ ו
ר ע ב ת ן
ש ב ד ב ש
נ ת ב ע ר
ו נ ש ר ף

Orthodox
Catholic
Evangelical
Pentecostal

4 traditions, all with something to say.

But who's listening?

I remember hearing the story of how the Orthodoxes and the Catholicals got in a shoving match in Jerusalem.

Sad.

The path is Narrow. Narrow Catholics, narrow Orthodox, narrow Pentecostals, narrow Catholics.

Someday, we will be one-- all the mere Christians who chose Christ.

No shoving. Hugs all around.

Utopian future?

Better.

A response to "Why I had to abandon the Bible and pick up a book about puppies"

2009-05-11T10:49:00.000-07:00

From Gods of Advertising, May 11, 2009:

"Why I had to abandon the Bible and pick up a book about puppies."

In The Happy Soul Industry, God reasons the Bible too old fashioned and violent, which inspires Her (in my novel God is a She) to seek out an advertising agency ostensibly for new copy. That, more or less, is the premise of The Happy Soul Industry. It was odd, then, to experience my own children recoiling from the Bible. The God in my novel is right! The Old Testament is archaic. If God and Heaven are to be considered by new generations then a new campaign is in order.

My response:

A sage CD [creative director] will tell you that advertising and marketing have concerned themselves with discovering new ways to tell the same stories, so that “nothing is new under the sun.” The same is true of the 66-book compilation we call the Bible.

The bloody narratives, the rape and incest and everything else point towards authenticity– after all, could a historian ever write “secular” history without a certain serving of evil? But who is evil– God or us?

J.B. Phillips wrote, after translating and paraphrasing the Gospels, “I have read, in Greek and Latin, scores of myths, but I did not find the slightest flavour of myth here…. No man could have set down such artless and vulnerable accounts as these unless some real Event lay behind them.”

Increasingly, people put more pressure on the Christians to change their message, to “tone it down,” but we cannot, because the Law and the Prophets were good enough for Jesus. So they must work for us as well.

He responds: Wonderful and insightful comments. I love the argument that only the truth could be so blunt and bloody. I’d never thought of it that way.

Of course, I'm only parroting any number of critical historians and emerging leaders. Most recently, CT Today expounded the story of Billy Graham's grandson, Tullian Tchividjian. I highly recommend this story.

Just another angle in the fight to "KEEP IT REAL"!

All
the
best
to you,
Andy

gRAMMAR wARS

2009-04-29T14:14:00.000-07:00

THE ALLCAPS CLUB WERE A BRASH AND ICONIC INTRUSION INTO THE LIVES OF THE VENERABLE Proper Puncs AND THE RUTHLESS lowercase family.

WE FLEW SO HIGH, BUT WE WENT TOO FAR, TOO LOUD.

WE SHOUTED OUR WAY INTO OBLIVION, LIKE THE MILKMAN, OR COOKING WITH LARD, OR DRESSING TO THE NINES FOR A HOP ACROSS THE ATLANTIC.

A FAILED EXPERIMENT IN NONCONFORMITY, WE'RE REFORMED NOW, BUT EVERY ONCE IN A WHILE, WE STILL CAP.

Doogie really was a genius

2009-04-27T22:07:00.000-07:00

It's after 0200, and by 0800 I've got copy due for a website redesign. I'm taking a break from my fun to share a productivity hack I discovered in the grind of journalism school, where writing and editing well, at strange hours, with little or no sleep, was kind of a big deal.

Disclaimer: Yes, I ripped this off Doogie. Yes, it does work.

Step #1: Change your background color! It cuts down on eye fatigue, and it's retro enough to give your right brain a good massaging. If you ever struggle with "creativity-on-demand," you must try this.

Step #2: You'll have to invert your font color for easier reading. Fan that I am of preteen physician phenoms, I prefer Doogie's white/blue combo. Also, blue is a soothing color, and the white page can a psychological hurdle.

Step #3: Before you print, don't forget to revert to white screen and black text!

Andy
Copy slave trying to stay on deadline
Follow me

Ecumenism is not a dirty word

2009-04-07T09:20:00.000-07:00

Why the first few moments in heaven may be awkward silence ...

More to come ...

Who's on trial here?

2009-03-28T20:33:00.000-07:00

This blog was supposed to be another counterattack against stupidity; instead, it is an admission that, if not for the grace of God, I would be living in my own, personally-selected version of utter stupidity.

God forgive me for my sense of entitlement. I have been forgiven for so much. Please take all of my heart, and teach me your ways.

How did I get here?

Read this ...

Because every fire breathing robot deserves its own soundtrack ...

2009-03-28T08:38:00.000-07:00

Because every fire-breathing robot deserves its own soundtrack, here's One Month Off (Filthy Dukes Remix) by Bloc Party. Kele and the boys from Bloc Party played First Ave on Monday. Yep, this is the same band Noel Gallagher said sounded like a "band off University Challenge."

"A 7.2-meter (23.6 foot) tall aluminum made robot 'Giant Torayan' blows fire into the air during a rehearsal of the 'Roppongi Art Night' special art event at Roppongi Hills in Tokyo, Japan, Friday, March 27, 2009. The robot, created by Japanese artist Kenji Yanobe, is one of main art installations for the event that aims to transform the entire area of Roppongi for one night from Saturday, March 28 to Sunday with art of all types under the theme of 'Encounters.' (AP Photo/Katsumi Kasahara)"

Words gone awry

2009-03-27T14:11:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about this, and at the risk of sounding like a complete moron, I'd like to share it with you:

How do you feel about reclaiming the semantic nuances of the Christian faith? First matter of agenda: "We're going to church" should be replaced with something that bears even a minute resemblance to what a "church" actually is. Remove indefinite article "a" and replace with "the", and capitalize said object in most instances, because individual streams or expressions can barely comprise an such an ancient and venerable network of bodies.

Progressive pastor here in the Cities calls his Sunday services "seminars". Get my drift?

Am I way out of line here?

Power Distance (A primer for passion)

2009-03-11T15:04:00.001-07:00

Social media are shrinking to new lows the power distance-- the extent to which the less powerful members of institutions and organizations expect and accept that power is distributed unequally.

Examples:

Both the Pope and the President of the United States have YouTube pages.
Doritos allows user-submitted content to appear as a Super Bowl commercial.
My local newspaper features user comments as high as the byline.
Mothers angry about a Motrin campaign Tweeted the ads right off the air.
You can read the Bible in any language-- free online.

I can hear the Schoolhouse Rock song as I write: "The shot heard around the world was the start of the revolution."

Power distance is low . . . time to respond!

How, you ask?

1. Get your cause right.
2. Figure out who wants to hear it.
3. Fire.
4. Aim.
5. Fire again.

If you hit something, you'll know. People are naturally passionate; even apathy is a passion, ya know . . . your job is to find out where their passion lies and how to harness it in practical ways.

CAUTION: Using the old rules of broadcast media do not work with social media-- a noted cult of generosity. To get, ya gotta give. A lot. This is what we call "value-based offerings."

I have noticed the Facebook chatter begin to build as:
1) More users join. Opening the "Book" to non-university students catapulted FB into a clear #1.
2) Applications add functionality.
3) Causes mobilize the bourgeois to movement.

How do you cut through the clutter? Give! Recognize people are naturally selfish, and give them what they want.

That's all for today. Shalom, my revolutionary brethren.

Color-coded

2009-03-02T16:22:00.000-08:00

One way I've changed in the past few months is my level of organization. For a long time, it was convenient to say, "I'm not organized," and then outsource all my comings, goings and doings to someone else more "Type A".

But then, people asked of me things I hadn't been asked before. In other words, people were outsourcing to me.

"Manage this."

"Research this."

"Call these people."

"Get Job A done with Persons 1 & 2"

"Show up at Point A at this Time X, and be ready"

So, I established systems of organization to supplement the limited amount of Random-Access Memory in my brain. I wrote things down. I referred to lists. I color-coded and organized my life.

And I feel a lot better! I get more done, and I have more context for where I am, at every step of the way. I wouldn't call myself "organized" now, but I definitely am developing systems to keep myself in the game.

1. Write your goals down

2. Write action items to accomplish those goals

3. Highlight when you're done

Write organization blog. Check.

A bitter end to a promising beginning

2009-03-01T08:29:00.000-08:00

With a sad heart, I closed my Bible. Over the past month, I had read the stories written in 1 & 2 Kings. I read the stories of Israel's greatest kings, David and Solomon. I saw Yahweh raise a nation of slaves with broken backs into a nation of wealthy and wise cultural elites. Jerusalem was a boom town of boom towns.

I saw unspeakable riches flow through the Holy City. I saw sailing ships sailing and traders trading. I saw a religiopolitical system that seemed to work, even though the monarchy was never Yahweh's ideal.

I saw a beautiful beginning. The covenant was honored. God smiled down on his people.

It was a rocky road, yes, but David was always a survivor. He sinned, but he repented. The author of 1 & 2 Kings never glosses over David's sins, but in history, but we also know that few have pleased the heart of Yahweh like David. No matter what new and astonishingly evil king took the throne, Yahweh remembered David. Eventually, the sins of Judah became so great that Yahweh's anger could not be stopped. Josiah was a great reformer, but he died from wounds sustained fighting Pharaoh Neco of Egypt.

Josiah will stand and say, someday, that from the House of Judah, one greater than the rest emerged. He is Jesus Christ. He is why I'm here, a Gentile in a foreign land, trying to wrap my mind around the story of God's chosen people.

Today, I feel God's call to remember the stories that have been told, to brush off the dust of antiquity and let them deal with me in a profound way. In the Books of 1 & 2 Kings, I see stories of love, family, redemption, anger, evil and hate.

The author spares us no details. We see mighty kings reduced to vassals, or worse-- palace dogs whom the Babylonian ruler took pity on and showed kindness to. Could David or Solomon ever have imagined such an end?

My pastor says, "Do not doubt in the light what God did in the darkness." In a culture of perpetual obsolescence, do we value the stories of old? Have we made the wisdom of the ancients, their lengthy genealogies and centuries of oral tradition, into a reference book?

In my tradition, I see this tendency. We are very good at living in the moment, and dreaming about the future, but we forget that nothing is new under the sun. That's the message of wisdom, and that's what 1 & 2 Kings speaks to me.

We must remember the ancient wisdom. We must not allow our heart to grow cold to the teachings of the fathers. No matter how scary it is, we must let these historical books work us over, through and through.

The message of 1 & 2 Kings is harsh, but still it holds hope for tomorrow. One thing that God showed me at my youth camp is that we can have a better future. Through our economy may fail, our strength must not.

As people of prayer, we must move God's heart so deeply and so purely that, if ever our church is reduced to evil and rubble, something in God's heart will remember our faithfulness. The system of temple worship may be corrupt and so far from its original intent, but God will raise up among us people of great faith, like Elijah and Elisha. He will uphold his promises, no matter what Joe Stupid or Tom Dumb is doing in positions of leadership.

God is no respecter of persons, but he does remember those who move his heart. If a thousand years is like a day to the Lord, we can imagine how the stories of the great men of our past still move the heart of the Lord.

I'm compelled to be that kind of person! I don't want anything this world has to offer me; I just want to please the Lord. It's time to live in that mode, that my life would be a sweet sacrifice to the Lord. Only then, can I rest.

Here of all places

2009-02-28T18:51:00.000-08:00

I don't know what to say. I'm in the middle of the most amazing season of seeking and prayer. I was in a youth camp last weekend that blew my mind and filled me with Holy Spirit fire, and last night when I met for prayer with my friends who recently returned from some intense Mardi Gras ministry, I thought the place was going to explode.

Two years of seeking, and finally we're beginning to see fruit.

I've never been here before, so close to the Christianity I only read about and finally wise enough to withstand the attacks that daily threaten to douse our passion. Fast, pray and meditate on the Scripture.

So, that's about it. I'm ruined for this world. People don't get it unless they're living it. Maybe, you would. Maybe, not.

Me: I just want Jesus.

It's true: I still believe

2009-02-25T21:31:00.000-08:00

As I was telling a fellow believer about everything God did in my life and the lives of my friends and students at our winter retreat last weekend, he surprised me by saying, "I had you pegged wrong."

"How did you peg me?" I asked.

"Well, sometimes people who study journalism are a bit cynical."

It's true (I once was), but I'm not (anymore).

Been there, done that. Ya' gotta believe!

Favor

2009-02-16T09:36:00.000-08:00

We have favor [fey-ver] the state of being approved or held in regard: to be in favor at court.

MOVE BEYOND:

Euphoria is the temporary response of pleasure chemicals in the brain. They are seratonin (happy) and dopamine (pleasure). Overreliance on chemicals as a means to gauge or further any relationship is a bad thing.

Thanks to my friend, Mark for reminding me about euphoria.

In a relationship with God, this plays out in a practical way. If we're in prayer or worship, often we wait for the "feeling" to hit before we know God accepts us unconditionally, and then we can begin to pour our hearts out. We don't pour out a "sacrifice of praise" until the spiritual matches the physical. So, we're sitting around, waiting for something to happen.

key point: there's a difference between waiting on God and waiting for something to happen.

REMEMBER:

We serve a God who is "turned on" by sacrifices. The one did not change, the one who enveloped the Israelites with a dark cloud. But, now, when we approach him, we feel empty-handed. We feel nothing. This is quite wrong.

In fact, when we take our family to the Church, when we go to the prayer meeting, when we enter our secret place, God sees a sacrifice (not in the metaphorical sense-- in the sense that he is looking for blood) greater than one he has ever seen. He sees Jesus.

TWO-BUTTON SUITS, PEWS AND POWER POINTS DO NOT NEGATE THE FACT THAT OUR GOD HAS A WAY HE LIKES TO DO THINGS THAT IS AT ONCE REAL AND RIGHT WHERE WE LIVE. THE OLD WAYS OF WORSHIPPING GOD ARE NOT LOST TO ANTIQUITY. ALTHOUGH CHRIST WAS THE ULTIMATE SACRIFICE, YAHWEH STILL LOVES A HEART THAT OFFERS TO HIM A SACRIFICE!

DON'T WAIT:

Pentecostal prayers have very good "feelers", but sometimes we must take our sacrifice and believe that it is good. We must "live" the sacrifice. Here is a verse that sums it up.

Hebrews 13:15 (New International Version)

¹⁵Through Jesus, therefore, let us continually offer to God a sacrifice of praise—the fruit of lips that confess his name.

The author of Hebrews, perhaps Paul, Apollos or someone else, had grown up so Jewish that he or she got this right way. To catch up, it's taken me some time and probably some revelation, but I don't claim that level of inspiration.

Not when the book is open and free . . .

Blood

2009-02-15T18:32:00.001-08:00

This country was written in blood. A disenchanted and idealistic cadre of patriots banded together to rebel against the Motherland. They signed the Declaration of Independence knowing full well capture by the King would result in death by hanging. Not bloody, but certainly final.

The Kingdom of God was also written in blood.

Beginning with the precedent of animal sacrifice as a means for remission of sins, and continuing with bloody and painful male circumcision as a rite of "otherness" that separated the "real" Jews from the "pretenders," blood was the currency for substitution and identity.

It's no surprise that the purest and most powerful substance in the universe is the precious blood of the Son of God. He who knew no sin became sin for us.

THERE IS ONE GATEWAY TO GOD.

He took the form of a man, with atria, ventricles and arteries, a perfectly-functioning body that would one day be riddled with fatal damage imposed by the brutal Roman custom of crucifixion.

As the sons and daughters of the original American patriots continued to shed blood far past the days of the Revolution, so the Kingdom of God advanced beyond the Resurrection.

For either kingdom, victory doesn't come cheap, does it?

What allegiance does the believer owe to this nation-state, the land of the free and the home of the brave? I wish I knew for sure.

But I do know what allegiance the believer owes the cross.

EVERYTHING.

How to Ride a Bike

2009-02-13T15:37:00.000-08:00

Author's Note: I'm printing an excerpt from my Internship Journal. I intern for Venture Expeditions in Burnsville, MN, where I do copywriting, editing and PR for the national cross-country cyclotour The Ride Well Tour.

Sometimes strength isn’t what you do, but how you do it.

Take professional bike riders, like the guys who do the Tour de France. They are, spandex leggings and all, amazingly tough. They climb relentlessly, descend daringly and, sometimes, leave their skin all over the pavement, as a pricey payment for one little wrong move. The Tour is the greatest test of endurance on the planet.

But some Tour professionals complain their way through most of the tour, even bordering on neurosis on details as small as the weight of their custom-designed road bicycle. “My bike is too heavy” “I’m not getting enough help from my teammates” “My bike is too heavy” “I’m tired” “My bike is too heavy” “I hurt all over” “I’m quitting after I’m done” "Who made this bike so #$%^ heavy!"

The people I really admire in the Tour are unheralded workhorses like “Big George” Hincapie (pictured above with Lance Armstrong) who, for many years, sheltered “stars” like Lance Armstrong from the wind and attacks on the Yellow jersey by other teams.

This blog is less an ode to the B-team and more a reminder that living isn’t a series of “whats” as much as a choice of “hows”.

Acting bravely and cheerfully in the face of insurmountable odds isn’t the best way to go about life. For a Christian, living for the glory and service of the Risen Lord Jesus, it’s the only way.

Old College Try: Subzero Edition

2008-12-15T16:53:00.000-08:00

I've spent the last 24 hours running from a certain sepulchre of arctic cold.

Yesterday, I drove to work (Menards) in Easter-like temps-- 40 degrees and bare spots showing in the melting parking lot.

Too good to be true. Five hours pass, and Hurricane Winter arrives. The parking lot is REAL FROZEN, and my unit (now payroll-restricted to two people-- me and a manager) is ordered to fix it.

I'm hunched over the steering wheel of a lift truck. My eyes are stinging. My body is threatening to go blue and die. My manager is taking shovelfuls of salt and flinging them on the newly-formed ice glaze. I'm laughing, because I do enjoy weather terror. We tossed 600 pounds of salt in an hour or so, him chucking and trying not to slip, and me wondering how much I can laugh before he wonders what's so funny about driving a forklift.

I punch out at 7:22, still covered in salt the wind had beaten into the threads in my corduroys and hoodie.

Now, I'm at Wal-Mart, trying to find Target shoppers who migrated on price to the "other place." I find one in the camera department. He has the "look" of an urbane Target shopper. He also has an obsession with the display models. He holds his security-tethered camera like an artifact, at arms length, determined to decipher its complexities.

As a retailer, any retail news tends to sink in a bit more.

"When the bottom begins to fall, price-point retailers become a haven for penny pinchers." This is all the retail beatwriters can write anymore, so if you've read the business page once this quarter, you're already sick of it. Wal-Mart is finally beating Target. Again. After four years of the Bullseye Brigade, the recession has put a damper on Target's overachieving.

Don't worry. There's always Spam to put Minnesota back on the map. You may not have heard, but the Minnesota-based Hormel plant has been running overtime shifts for months. Spam sales follow an inverse relation to the strength of the economy.

After the mini-blizzard, I finally made it home to spend a bit of time with my friend, Ryan.

We enjoy a bit of cinematic malpractice, courtesy of the much-hated director Uwe Boll. Jason Statham leads as "Farmer" in In the Name of the King: A Dungeon Siege Tale. It's a terribly-made movie based on a video game. It's either the DVD or the production, but the audio is so bad in spots that my buddy thinks I'm farting and not saying anything. You must see a Uwe Boll before you die.

On the way back to drop off Ryan at his place, the inside of the windshield ices up, save for 4 "portholes" where the defroster blows. It reminds me of the Day After Tomorrow.

The drive continues. Stopped by flashing red lights and crossing arms, I stretch my gloved hand out the window to wave to a train conductor, who I imagine must be a bit lonely. We are two souls lost in the frost.

Farther west on Main Street, an umbrella-toting madman makes a run for my car. At first I figured he was suicidal, but then I realized the windblocking umbrella also blocks 100% of his vision. Genius. I stop him with my horn and keep driving.

They say it's going to be record-setting cold tonight. It's just another day for these Minnesotans, of whom I seem to fit with rather well.

Be smart. Leave yourself options to stay alive. Cold like this kills and maims.

It's -6F now.

Booyakasha, that's low!

Decision Speed (When you absolutely must take off)

2008-12-07T14:43:00.000-08:00

Hello! You have found the second chapter in a unique note series on slaying apathy in the world. Decision Speed is a concept I'm beginning to execute after several months of intense soul searching-- not fun, but it was worth it. I invite you to come along with me as I write my magnum opus after too many years of university training (Tommy Boy territory- eek! but the end is nearing) and respond to God's pressing call on my heart to find others who feel likewise and strategize for the future. I've chosen Facebook as my medium, because everyone is here. As for me, I'm a journo major and a thinker. I read way too much and occasionally pop outside my cave for a good dose of outdoors. Basically, Decision Speed is what I was made to write. Don't care? Then, the first blog is for you. MY PROMISE: Like an antique show in Tokyo, I'll blend the old and the new, the historical and the futuristic. I won't lie-- these are blogs about social change. Even if you hate change, if you have even the loosest affiliation with Jesus or church, I believe you'll want to hear what I have to say. I am no stranger to the art of publishing-- I just hope I can keep your interest long enough to get to the good stuff. I have little desire to publish or to be heard online-- in fact, I prefer coffee shop discussions with good friends. Although I've written a few blogs, I haven't organized my ideas around a central concept like Decision Speed. In fact, it is the dire situation that has brought me into the court of Internet opinion. If you didn't know, decision speed is the predetermined airspeed which a pilot knows he must pull on the yoke and put his plane in the air. Below decision, you stay on the runway and slam on the brakes. Above decision, you must fly. I am writing this series because I have reached the point in my life where I can no longer slam on the brakes. I know many are arriving here as well. We are go for takeoff. I have a burning desire to tell the truth-- and once chance to do it. Quickly, I'd like to say thanks for browsing. I love to hear from people who agree, disagree, or who just enjoy writing things in boxes. It's best to start with The Gate, which serves as a precursor to this series. If you've interacted with that note, you've seen how caring is daring and have begun to consider your own life. Many of us are pushed to the limit with family, work and a myriad of social commitments. We are busy. We guard our time! Yet, you read on, cautiously, because you're waiting for the slaying I promised. You're waiting for something decisive to come and blast the stupid out of this messed-up world. Get ready for football metaphors. You're waiting for a touchdown or a turnover. But it's HALFTIME. Welcome to Decision Speed. In Decision Speed, I'll tell the score (hint: a few field goals won't get us back in this one) and why our game plan absolutely must change for the second half of the game. After this chapter, I promise I'm done with football metaphors. Go [insert your favorite playoff team here]! Your faithful culture wonk, Andrew

Critical Mass

2008-12-05T22:32:00.000-08:00

Where have all the cheerleaders gone
Men and women of yesterday’s dawn?
Who slaved and bled to make us great
Who believed in something not fashionable of late

Hope

They are dead
Or they fled
Or they just let it all run out, like an astronaut who lost his tether,
Floating gently in the black expanse

Today,
Everyone’s a critic
Everyone’s a sharp
Nitpick

Finding fault in others’ work
Lamenting always
And comforted only by the sounds of their own
Crying, complaining and carrying on

I’ll sign your petition
After I hit you in the mouth
Look away, you reformer
Of nothing. That’s what I always do

Seasoned liars, we are
Always looking for,
And finding comfortable ways
To evade our true greatness

Belief is positively
The only way to go forward
To seize the day
And pave the way

And now we are floating
In a big melting pot
Of fantastically unique
Little people

And the sum of our parts
Stands a chance to reckon
For a moment in time
The audacity of Hope

Apathy Slayer 101 (Must select Awareness Lab)

2008-12-04T13:40:00.000-08:00

World seems smaller, these days. It's shrinking every year.

1, 2, 3-- it's smaller than 1993.

4, 5, 6-- it's smaller than 1996.

7, 8, 9-- I know what you ate for dinner last night, Facebook updater extraordinaire.

Ever wonder what all this connectivity means?

The lightning storm of modern-day media has changed how I think about responsibility. The level of connectivity and ease of access require, at minimum, a new level of awareness, if not action. The belief: "It doesn't affect me" doesn't work anymore, because in a global economy, everything affects everyone.

I'll break that down, because I hate to recycle Tom Friedman or the sustainability creed.

My college newspaper polled five students for a "man-on-the-street" interview. We asked them to talk about a long transit strike that had taken the busses of the streets for weeks. Responses were mixed, until we found one girl who didn't know about the bus strike. We printed that.

Everything affects everyone, whether you know about it or not. Google "chaos theory" and try to wrap your mind around the mathematical model more commonly known as the "Butterfly Effect."

Remember the "least of these," even though he lives 5,000 miles away, because you just saw his picture online. He looks hungry. And sick.

This isn't a guilt trip, friends. It's an encouragement to live every day on purpose, to enjoy every moment, and to care.

We have all been granted, at minimum, the currency of time. Mindful of the value of your time, I keep my blogs short!

Spend wisely. The future is constructed by gazillions of tiny choices made by people just like you.

-Andrew

Day two

2008-12-03T21:59:00.000-08:00

Hello again. I enter Day Two of my daily writing exercise. The result may be as disjointed as a Chinese contortionist, but you'd watch that contortionist anyways, right? Let's catch up.

BLACK IS BACK. As of last summer, I have started thinking again. About the same time that I restarted reading and thinking, I also started copywriting.

So my sentences got shorter. For necessity. It's your fault! It's your short attention span! And mine, too . . .

Moreover, I started reading every retail zoomer, direct mailer, Internet banner, church bulletin, nonprofit flyer, newspaper circular, mail-order catalog, DVD box, corporate tagline, fast food bag, blog, light rail side panel, V-log, dog collar, etc . . . I could find. I must etcetera because every day the marketers manage to cover another inch of our viewing space with messages. Their latest invention is airline tray table ads. I can't wait to finish Skymall and start on my tray!

I read Claude C. Hopkins, who is to copywriting what Freud is to psychology, and I found a terse and confident writer, unafraid to sell but entirely wary of making a mess with someone else's money.

Seth Godin is another favorite of mine. He is a marketing guru who every day will deliver an insightful blog to your inbox. It's no wonder he's Top 25 in the blogosphere (#14). Yeah, he wrote Purple Cow. You might know that one.

I read Jesus. Like every good itinerant preacher, he knew his theology, but he told stories instead. People love stories! We're wired for stories. We're hard-wired to appreciate God's meta-narrative. It's a BIG STORY, and we're part of it!

I don't know if I'll succeed in copywriting, but I like it. I have always loved the short piece, the one that punches you in the gut. Whereas many wish to write the great American novel, I want to write round after round of meaningful copy that will engage the imaginations of my readers.

I love people. I love writing for people. I like when writing can bring people together. I don't need an audience, but thinking about my readers makes me want to suck less. That matters.

"You can't bat .300 in this league." -A sage creative director I met a few weeks ago

That's all for today. This took me 45 minutes to write, 15 minutes to edit and many hours to ponder. I'm publishing on Day 3, because unless I can find an editor on demand, I leave a day between "comp" and "pub"!

-Andrew

Back on solid ground

2008-12-02T21:37:00.000-08:00

Hello, friends and friends-to-be. I have decided I will publish more frequently. I am not sure what shape my writings will take, but I know that writing must become a daily discipline. Without the guidance of the muse, I must rely on whatever I can muster at the moment. I don't believe in muses, anyway. Hard work is what makes any good writer. I don't want to be good as much as I want to keep it real. You know, REAL GOOD.

So, this morning I was doing my exercises in the Cashman book Leadership from the Inside Out, and I discovered I have some very limiting beliefs. I've known for a long time things needed to change (inside me). After an intense and scary journaling session, I found myself feeling more happy and free.

It's like a little glow inside. It's congruency.

That's all I've got for today. I hope you stick with me; I might come up with something good. In the meantime, may your presence be a gift to all those around you. That's Cashman again :-)

-Andrew

God man or touch of divine?

2008-11-05T23:53:00.000-08:00

Often, we view earthly Jesus as a sort of God-man hybrid, and indeed he was both fully human and fully divine. But how God was he, and how man was he? We believe he was fully God and fully man, so that seems to indicate 100 percent of each, for a total of 200 percent.

Yet, there is only one God, and he is infinite. So, when we think of how much God it would take to make Jesus, we must think of the smallest possible quantity, if divinity could ever be quantified, and even that is too much. Jesus was as he always will be: perfect.

Flashbulbs

2008-10-16T20:47:00.000-07:00

There are places in the world where the cameras never cease to pop and crackle, where every moment is recorded with precision and artful glamour. I don't need to tell you such places are rare.

There are many more places where good deeds and bad deeds alike go entirely unrecorded. The clock is ticking, but no one's watching. Worse yet, no one seems to care.

If you find yourself trying to do good, yet lacking motivation, remember that there is One greater. ALL wrongs will be made right, and ALL rights will not go unrewarded. In fact, this life isn't all there is. For those who choose God's way, they will receive eternal life and a reward greater than money or power.

The reward is Him. Can't see it yet? Don't believe it's really worth it?

Keep PRAYING; keep SEEKING. You'll see it. History lies beneath the headlines, and despite what you feel, God is planning an "after party" to quash all rumors of injustice or mediocrity and make every paparazzo within a million light years of Earth drool like a Labrador in a sweaty meat market.

It's worth it. Don't give up.

Credits:

James 1:12
This poem
Everyone ever, who did the right thing, Jesus the first and the last. We stand on their shoulders.

Pama Lama Ding Dong

2008-10-01T04:59:00.000-07:00

In the field I'm trying to get into, a generic cover letter is worth zilch. Thus, I find myself writing customized covers that draw connections between myself and my potential employer. This is good. The problem is that I'm writing on the spot, sometimes in text boxes on an online application, and first drafts are scary. I'm okay with quality control, but I find myself attempting (and failing) at humor. Due to a disgustingly buggy Chrome beta, my first two apps went into the Great Oblivion. My good fortune! I had to rewrite my cover letters, and the second time, all the great jokes seemed a bit . . . insane? In the end, I feel just like Michael Scott when he answers the phone, and Pam gives him a second try at professionalism. I'm too tired to explain further; I guess this is for Office fans only.

GOOD MORNING, VIETNAM!

The great cost of Continued Indifference in the face of Tremendous Opportunity: a message for believers

2008-09-27T16:06:00.000-07:00

You've had it for a while, that feeling that the cracks are starting to show. I'm here to confirm your suspicions: TODAY, ALL IS NOT WELL WITH THE WORLD.

Today, the economic reality is grim. Questions abound. What does the future hold? Who's really in charge? If the almost $3/4 of a trillion dollar bailout package cannot save us, what will?

I have to ask a tough question: are we so naive as to believe that civil order is permanent, that human government is homogenously beneficent or that the kingdoms of this world will last forever? Shall any eagle on a pole, Roman or American, outlast the Word of the Living God? A different way to say the same thing: when the bottom falls out, what do we land on?

Rise and shine, Johnny! It's time to take your pill. Let's check your chart. Oh, you're U.S. American. Yep, we've got what you need. Here's a healthy dose of election coverage to take your eyes off your true Commander-In-Chief. Take that twice a day, morning and night. Media of any sort will do; you can get this stuff over-the-counter. It's just that these candidates can be oh-so-tantalizingly like the Messiah who already came about two millenia ago. A great generic alternative, wouldn't you say? If your lucidity persists, just get busy! You don't need to do anything in particular; just do something to take your mind off that nagging feeling that ALL IS NOT WELL WITH THE WORLD.

I had originally written a different blog, but I knew I had to write this one. I don't want to be the one to say it, but someone has to. Things cannot stay the same anymore. God is asking us if we are willing to pay the price in prayer, and so far, the answer has been a resounding, "No."

You can ignore this message. You can write it off as another doom-and-gloomer out to get his negativity fix for the day. Too much network news, maybe. You can compartmentalize it so neatly, so perfectly, that in a few seconds it will all be out of your mind. But the cracks are starting to show.

If you've chosen to read this far, chances are you find yourself in a similar predicament, or you're just curious to see why one more person in the world thinks telling you to pray more will make a lick of difference. I'll answer that question: I'm stirred; I'm broken; I'm absolutely desperate, and I strongly believe that a new wave of individual and corporate prayer is the answer.

When the volume of our rhetoric expands beyond the mass of our convictions, prayer keeps us grounded on the Rock.

When our heart gives itself to idols, prayer reminds us of our One True Love.

When life is intense, prayer is our shelter.

When life is easy, prayer is our safeguard.

When the best option seems the easy road, prayer reminds us the narrow road is the way.

When all is not well with the world, prayer is the best way to make things right. You're only as alone as you perceive to be, so take courage: Jesus is praying for you.

Sources/Additional Reading Material: Put everything in context. Emphases mine.

A VISION OF THE FUTURE (Rev 8:1-3):

1When he opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven for about half an hour.

2And I saw the seven angels who stand before God, and to them were given seven trumpets.

3Another angel, who had a golden censer, came and stood at the altar. He was given much incense to offer, with the prayers of all the saints, on the golden altar before the throne. 4The smoke of the incense, together with the prayers of the saints, went up before God from the angel's hand. 5Then the angel took the censer, filled it with fire from the altar, and hurled it on the earth; and there came peals of thunder, rumblings, flashes of lightning and an earthquake.

A MESSAGE FROM THE PAST (JOEL 1:14):

14 Declare a holy fast;
       call a sacred assembly.
       Summon the elders
       and all who live in the land
       to the house of the LORD your God,
       and cry out to the LORD.

THE NEXT STEP (MATT 5:5-13):

5"And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by men. I tell you the truth, they have received their reward in full. 6But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.7And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words. 8Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.

9"This, then, is how you should pray:
   " 'Our Father in heaven,
   hallowed be your name,
10your kingdom come,
   your will be done
      on earth as it is in heaven.
11Give us today our daily bread.
12Forgive us our debts,
      as we also have forgiven our debtors.
13And lead us not into temptation,
   but deliver us from the evil one.

FINAL ENCOURAGEMENT (MATT 11:12-15):

12From the days of John the Baptist until now, the kingdom of heaven has been forcefully advancing, and forceful men lay hold of it. 13For all the Prophets and the Law prophesied until John. 14And if you are willing to accept it, he is the Elijah who was to come. 15He who has ears, let him hear. -Jesus

Unplugged (Naked Faith)

2008-03-12T23:04:00.000-07:00

These are my thoughts about my seven-day media fast.

I gave up: television, movies, music, websites, email, newspapers, magazines, text messages and, eventually, the idea that life without these things would be no life at all. In the silence of the morning, in the stillness of the afternoon, in the quiet of the night, I found something strange. Life wasn't in those things. They were empty.

Life was somewhere else, somewhere old and somewhere very young. It has been there from the beginning. Life just was, even as it is, and as it forever shall be. All my days ran in this strange continuity of the rising and the setting of the sun. Time seemed to stop.

I think I wasn't necessarily close to God as much I was close to heaven. There was no pressure evolve to the newer, better version of myself; there was only me being me. I boiled oatmeal in the morning and ate in silence, sitting stoop-shouldered on the couch and staring into space. In the afternoon I scanned the sky for traces of a storm; I wondered if the clouds would go away. I hiked long zig-zags in the forest and made snowballs, which I ate because I was thirsty from walking in zig-zags. Sometimes, I went to work and did other things. When I couldn't think of anything else to do, I just laid in bed. I prayed a lot. I read my Bible some, too.

It's easy to put all our money on the disciplines, because they look the best and make us feel the best after we do them. I suppose we need them. Without the regular practice of prayer and Scripture study, how could we tame this mortal animal? How could we? But what happens when we stop using the disciplines as a steering wheel, as a way to preserve autonomy? What happens when we let go?

I'm not crazy, not yet at least. You may think I lost my train of thought and started talking about the Big Two (what you do to get close to God, even though that's impossible, because you can't move an inch within space and time unless he wants you to), when this started as a story about a media fast.

This is a story about anything that comes between us and the quiet pleasure of being with our Creator, our Lord and, when the time is right, our Best Friend and the Lover of our souls. They keep telling you, "Do this. Do that," but what happens when you stop trying and say, "Forget this! I want my God, right now, and I don't need anything but a hope and a prayer." Is that even a Christian expression?

It is naked faith.

It is scary.

It is good.

It is righteousness. Luther might be right. We can stop trying and start believing. Sometime along the way we lost our way and started to try again.

There's no need for that. Let us fall into the arms of love, and not be so afraid. Let our insides match our outside, and let us stop lying to ourselves. Lies are so ugly; God is so beautiful. The truth: he's okay with us, and the only reason we'll evolve is to be more like our Lover.

What if there isn't anything to do in heaven? Would our Lover still want us around?

Tweens will love it!

2007-09-18T19:33:00.001-07:00

Today I got an urge to listen to something cool and fresh, so I grabbed my notebook PC and visited Hannah Montana's website via Disney Channel. They didn't have any music, but I did spot an ad for "Tween Fashion". I thought it was a joke, but I noticed a Target URL. Friends, I kid you not: Target has a 22 page E-catalog for tweens-- you know, those munchkins who can't quite fill Juniors styles but are too cool to be seen in Kids. It's a good move. Tweens have money from babysitting, and they need clothes as well. Everyone wins.

It's all good until you see the teeth shining like sharpened steel in the dark, and then NICHE MARKETING EATS YOUR CHILDREN. That's right: marketers know more about us than Big Brother and Karl Rove combined, and once they find you, they'll consume you and your tweens whole, spitting the bones into the corner in a small altar of human byproducts. So, thanks, Target. I'm simultaneously appalled and impressed. That's a feat almost greater than the development of your entire Tween product line.

Absurdity ~~and my everpresent melodrama~~ aside, niche marketing is the next phase in the war for your paycheck. Check out the book Microtrends by marketing guru Mark Penn. Penn was the guy who discovered "soccer moms" for Clinton in 1996. The book is soft-science at best, leaning heavily on conjecture but still relying on solid numbers to form the backbone of the work. New marketing means taking judicious chances, so no one's canonizing this one yet.

I've listened to the Hannah Montana song "Nobody's Perfect" four times during the composition of this blog, just to see what happens. I've remained outwardly compliant, yet I can feel the anger growing inside me. As well, my head is beginning to throb.

Heated

2007-05-09T23:03:00.000-07:00

In a few weeks time, Minnesota explodes to life. The cold tundra melts and blooms into a warm garden. Flowers poke through the frost, giving way to grass shoots and tree buds. The entire landscape makes such a quick transition, it's hard not to miss!

I too have made a short transition into summer life. It seems like yesterday that I was wearing a down jacket and heavy boots. Now, the A/C runs almost continuously, an artificial cool pocket in a balmy atmosphere.

I know I need to change as well. I had a long talk with an old friend the other night, and he is doing much better than me spiritually. He says he is "positioning [himself] for success", and that makes a heckuva lot of sense to me. In the scheme of life, your friends and habits translate into your outcome.

In fact, people rely on me to be a better person, now-- not tomorrow, next week or in the coming summer months. This is where I say good night and God bless.

Ecstacy

2007-04-29T00:26:00.000-07:00

I've stayed up all night jacked up on e-media. Several times, I have reduced myself to tears. Anything can set me off: a photo, a comment on my site or perhaps a funny music video. I strained my chest laughing, and my eyes are looking rather red. This is my broadband existence in manic mode. LOL LOL LOL LOL!

Last·FM rules!

2007-04-22T19:45:00.000-07:00

32 are gone forever: a prayer for the Hokies

2007-04-17T20:20:00.000-07:00

Arabic speakers have a saying that translates to "They gave us their years" --so we might continue to live. Thank you, friends. God rest your souls.
For the surviving: May peace quiet their darkest tremors, and may hope burn away the fog of fear. May shock be changed to sadness, and may sadness become healing. Never shall we forget. Amen.

Top 10: You know it's spring when you're out jogging and . . .

2007-04-13T09:28:00.000-07:00

10) Suddenly, you feel hot, white and red all over. Caucasian pale monster! Run!
9) Your panting sounds worse than usual. It must be the sedentary months you spent in your snow cave.
8) The sand is not reminiscent of Siberian Beachfest '04. It gives.
7) Critters!
6) You take off your shirt, and your nipples remain soft and comfortable. Yeah, I said that.
5) A pickup truck full of Mexican roofers almost runs you off the road.
4) You remember there's no way you should be out with finals week so near.
3) Screw the finals! It's sunny today!
2) Insatiable thirst! Why am I so thirsty? What's going on? *Thud*
1) Welcome to Stankonia. The air is blooming with odors of moist foliage and thawing animal feces. Yum! Let's do another mile!

Fun with open-source

2007-04-01T15:00:00.000-07:00

I've spent the whole day messing with Gimp 2 and Scribus, and I'm having a ton of fun! It took me an hour and a half to figure out how to export a .bmp from Scribus, but I'm learning! On the left is my new Facebook pic. The text was hard to get right!

Timberlake babysits the Nick-tots at the 20th Annual Kids' Choice Awards

2007-03-31T21:51:00.000-07:00

Justin was a great presenter, a real class act, but he just doesn't fit the bill. What happened to 'sexy back'? I'll show my hand here as a fuddy-duddy, but Justin Timberlake, from a marketing standpoint, shouldn't come within ten stations of Nickelodeon. Even though he didn't perform, it's just not appropriate. Wait until they're 14 to book JT so they digest the MTV ethos a little easier. When they're 20, they might think for themselves, but that's too late.

My competence is unmatched!

2007-03-30T12:56:00.000-07:00

Ideally, to master Arabic you should study 4-5 hours per day for several years. I study about an hour a week. For our Friday quiz, the teacher gave us a word bank with nouns, verbs and other words and told us to write our own sentences. That was a ~~big problem~~ great idea. I showed my mastery by writing sentences such as, "Mes'ali 'annini min el-'ahil" (The matter is the bottle from the family) and "Nayyamat el-walad baladak" (You put to sleep the boys from your country" and finally "biddi el-'ibri!" (I don't want the needle!). I'm not saying I want an F on this quiz; I'm just saying I could do a lot of damage if I ever try to talk with the locals.

Guatemala stymies U.S. offensive to keep the tie in Texas

2007-03-28T20:01:00.001-07:00

In a friendly match under warm Frisco, Texas skies, the United States could not pierce the net of their Gold Cup 2007 opponent, ending the game tied at zero. The young U.S. team should have won this one, and they knew it, ending the game visibly frustrated. Although they played competent defense, their strikers seemed confused at times, kicking late or early, high or low. The U.S. has never lost to Guatemala on U.S. soil. Since the teams' second meeting in 1988, their record now stands at 9-0-5. The U.S. will need a stronger performance to win in the Gold Cup.

This is the first post.

2007-03-28T14:12:00.000-07:00

I imagine this blog is going to look a lot like a sports page, but I always will add a few surprises. My favorite sport is racing, so I'll let this photo of Indy driver Danica Patrick start the party. It's easy to root for Danica, and I hope it's just as easy to be a fan of this blog. I'm always full of ideas, so check back for updates! By the way, Danica is currently #10/20 drivers.