Staff Infection

Tonight, one of our Sunday School classes is having a "Meet the Staff" night. We are gathering at Gil and Judy Fletcher's house to get up close and personal with some of the young couples at First Baptist Church.

Can you imagine the thrill of actually seeing me face to face? This must be a dream come true (kind of like meeting the president .. or Hannah Montana) for so many of these impressionable young people. Here is their big opportunity to pick (don't pick at that!) my brain (yes, I have one). I'm sure they will have dozens of questions:

How can I be a role model like you? How can I get my wife to adore me like Cheryl adores you? What is your solution to the war in Iraq? How are you able to sing fifteen songs in a thematic medley in less than two and a half minutes? How much wood could a woodchuck chuck, if a woodchuck could chuck wood?

It's going to be a long night, but that's okay. With great power comes great responsibility.

Too Much Information

I have never been one to withhold too much information. If you have spent any time here (that's a big IF according to my "hit" counter at this site), you will probably notice that I am a very transparent (kind of like the Claude Rains of bloggers) person. I will talk about anything and everything.

When Cheryl and I got married, we spent a couple of nights in Nashville before going on to Gatlinburg (Russ and Susan, you still tick me off for going to Hawaii). We arrived very late on Saturday night, so we slept in (even today, the guilt is almost more than I can bear) on Sunday morning. However, on Sunday night we walked from our hotel (at that time the Hyatt) to First Baptist Church, Nashville and attended their evening service.

Cheryl wanted to slip in quietly and then leave immediately afterwards (this is evidently a very popular method. I see it used by many of our people on a weekly basis). Not me. I'm a very social person. I sat next to a couple and told them who we were, where we were from, where we were going, our mother's maiden names and (I believe at one point) our Social Security numbers.

You would think now that I am older (yes) and wiser (nope) I have learned to "filter" what I say. Cheryl has warned me about giving out too many details in these daily writing. She's afraid that people will know our every move and someone might break in to our house when we are out of town for the day. I do see her point and I'm working very hard on this.

I'd better wrap this up for now. I have to go to the bathroom and ...

Oops, I did it again.

A Bird in the Hand Is .. Gross

When I was in seminary, I remember one of my professors telling about a grant that cost the American taxpayer several billion dollars. It was awarded so that a study could be made to determine (are you ready for this?) why birds sing.

They should have just asked me. Birds sing .. because they are happy (just pay me in small bills, please). If a bird is unhappy (if mynah ain't happy, ain't nobody happy) however, beware.

Yesterday, I ran home (why I didn't drive is beyond me) after lunch to put some blueberries (thanks, Margaret and Mike) in the fridge. I was only inside for about ten minutes. When I returned and started up the car, I heard a noise in the back window and saw a small sparrow fluttering around in the back. It had obviously flown in through an open (only slightly cracked, actually) window, and was now trapped.

I'm not sure which one of us was the most surprised. Let's just say that some clean up was required before returning to the office.

All ended well, though. I opened a door and the bird flew (some glad morning, when this life is o'er) away to do what birds do.

If Max Lucado wrote this blog, I'm sure he would use this story as a teaching opportunity. He would probably point out that there are great freedoms in the christian life. However, sometimes we find ourselves helplessly trapped in situations (cages) of our own doing. It is when we exhaust every bit of self-effort and are ready to give up, that God arrives (He was actually there patiently waiting) and frees us to, once again .. soar and sing.

That would have been good. Too bad Max Lucado doesn't write this blog.

Fog Went A-Courtin'

I woke up about 3:00 AM this morning and noticed a dense fog (it's starting to sound like the weather channel around here) outside. This is not the least bit unusual, however, since I seem to wake up in a dense fog most every morning.

How much sleep do you really need?

It is my understanding that Thomas Edison (hey, I have an idea) required only 4 hours of sleep per night, while Albert Einstein (E=mc Hammer .. or something like that) needed 12 hours to feel rested.

I'm certainly not comparing myself to Edison (the hair is similar) or Einstein (the hair was similar), but I believe that I function best somewhere in between. You see, I've tried the 4 hour pattern (heck, I'm in the 4 hour pattern) and it's not working for me. If I slept 12 hours, who would wake Cheryl up to tell her the alarm is going off?

My next step (the first is to admit you have a problem) is to stop my caffeine intake at night and to stop drinking a gallon of water before I retire (at night, not age 65). Maybe that will help.

BTW, the TV is on and guess what is coming up? It's that 1946 classic, "The Big Sleep".

Philip Marlowe, you are a cruel man.

Sweatin' with the Oldies

Well, it's another scorcher out there (Tennessee Williams would be so inspired) and it doesn't look like the heat is going to let up all week. We did get about an inch of rain on Saturday, but when it was over, it felt even worse.

The relative humidity (that sounds like how much your aunt sweats) was quite high and it just zaps every bit of energy that you have if you are outside for very long.

We have a couple of youth groups in from Texas this week and they are staying at the church every night. During the day, they are involved in some service projects (painting and repair), backyard Bible clubs, and a sports camp. All of these require the young (and not so young .. Lonnie) people to be right out there in the burning sun. As my mother would say, "Drink plenty of water."

If I really wanted to sound like mom, I would also have to ask if they were wearing clean underwear. I was always puzzled by this and inquired once as to why that was important. The answer was, "In case you get in an accident." (Never mind that severed arm, mister. Take a look at these undies. My mother really cares about me).

Somehow I suspect if my underwear was clean at the time of impact .. it might not be that way afterwards.

Do they make Huggies® in "big boy" sizes?

We Need Some Rain, Man

No, this is not a close-up of George Hamilton's (no relation) face. It is dirt. Dry dirt. Very dry dirt.

I've been up most of the night listening to the thunder teasing me. It's low rumble (much like the sound my stomach makes after eating at Moe's Southwest Grill) off in the distance made me really believe that rain was on the way. Alas, there were only a few sprinkles and we, once again, have been left "high and dry."

The sad thing is that I can recall after several days of constant rain, just wishing (and hoping and thinking and praying) that it would stop (those lyrics were made famous by Dusty Springfield. Coincidence? I don't think so). It seems we are never satisfied.

It's now 7:04 AM, 74º degrees and cloudy. I believe there's a little bit of precipitation even as I type, so things are looking better.

Matthew 5:45 says that God sends rain on the just and the unjust. That should pretty well cover us all, but I'll try to just back off and let God be God. After all ...

Father knows best.

Wake Up Call

Yesterday morning, the electricity went off (for about an hour) pretty much all over town. It happened while I was typing up the "Did I Do That?" entry on my trusty MacBook Pro (Apple - I love you .. even with those pesky MobileMe glitches) which meant my words of wisdom for the day were not typed in vain. However, I couldn't upload this fodder to the blogger.com page until I had internet access once again. A scary moment, I know for those who read this blog religiously (in the church, synagogue, or bathroom of your choice) each and every day.

The greater problem of the power outage was having to re-set the seventy three clocks (somehow my wife still manages to be late) found throughout our house. It was a challenge, but I spent my lunch hour doing so and in this laborious (Reader's Digest word of the day) process, I discovered that Cheryl's alarm clock (we have His and Hers) did not have a battery back-up. So .. I put a 9 volt battery in and reset the time. Just the time. NOT the alarm.

After just getting in to that "deep sleep pattern" last night, her alarm went off like a sack full of fireworks exactly at the stroke of midnight. I believe this is where they get the term rude awakening. Needless to say, it took a while to get over the shock and go back to sleep.

It is now 7:50 AM and Cheryl is supposed to be at work by 8 o'clock.

I think someone is going to be a little late.

Did I Do That?

Last night we were just beginning to go through our last song at choir rehearsal when the fire alarm went off in the hallways. I really wanted to go through that song (it was "God of My Praise"), but I knew the drill (no pun intended .. okay, maybe slight pun intended). I asked everyone to line up in an orderly fashion and leave (single file, of course) the building for the parking lot.

It was within minutes that I found one of our youth leaders running up to let us know that they had been using a fog machine downstairs (don't even ask) which set off the alarm system. Unfortunately, the office where the alarm equipment was located had been re-keyed at the end of last week and no one on the premises had a new key.

I should note at this time that if any of the half a dozen men who tried to break in to this office should ever lose our jobs and be forced to turn to a life of crime, we would end up as the featured clip on "America's Dumbest Criminals." Screwdrivers, clothes hangers, and other items laying around the family life center, didn't help ( ... help).

The Humboldt Fire Department was "spot on" and arrived before we were able to call in a false alarm. Actually, I believe they still have to come and assess the situation. Which they did (no fire, many incompetent idiots trying to open a locked door, and a room full of youth playing "Guitar Hero" and not paying one bit of attention to the alarms).

There is more to the story, but long story short (too late for that), we finally got the alarms turned off and waved goodbye to the Fire Department.

First Baptist Church: The Wednesday night place to be.

Lighten Up a Little

Last night in preparation for my Wednesday morning men's prayer group, I read chapter 23 of Max Lucado's book, "In the Eye of the Storm". It was called, Why God Smiles and suggested that Jesus had (and still has .. I hope) a great sense of humor.

This is music to my ears because I've toyed with starting a new blog filled with humor instead of the serious droning that you see here (I'm speaking to the nine people who actually read this stuff) each and every day.

I find humorous things in scripture from time to time. Most often it is just a passing thought that goes through this weird brain of mine. For instance, in Matthew 12 there is an occasion when Jesus was teaching and his mother and brother show up outside and ask to speak with him. One of the disciples goes to Jesus and says, (this is the RKV - Revised Kevin Version) "Your mother and brother are here". Jesus answers, "Who is my mother? Who are my brothers"? If I were the disciple, I would probably say something like, "Alrighty ... Do you want to see 'em or not? Yes or No"?

I believe with all my heart that the Lord has a sense of humor (look at the human race - you have to laugh to keep from crying). In fact, Proverbs says, "Laughter is a good medicine." That's one of my favorite Bible verses (I also like, "It takes one to know one").

Have you taken your medicine today?

No Soup for You!

I pretty much always enjoyed watching "Seinfeld" back when it was on (actually, it's still on) the air. It was called a show about nothing because each week the writers were able to do 30 minute episodes (make that 20 minute episodes after commercial interruption) based on everyday, common occurrences. They pulled this off for nines years and only then left the airwaves when Jerry decided to move on.

This blog is just like "Seinfeld" (except for the being widely viewed, funny and making tons of money part). It is really about nothing. Every day I wake up and just start writing down the first thing that pops into my head. There is no planning (much like the way I approach our worship services) or thought (the voices, the voices .. make them stop!!) put into it (surprise .. surprise) at all. It's simply about nothing.

What I have to say may not always be interesting, but I ALWAYS have something to say.

Does that mean that I can go on for nine years?

Yada, yada, yada ..

When You're Hot You're Hot

Temperatures are supposed to reach 100º degrees here in West Tennessee today and that can only mean one thing: It's time to order Christmas music. That's right. While everyone else is looking for ways to beat the summer heat, those of us in music ministry are having to look ahead to the month of December.

I've been driving around for the last two weeks with "The Splendor of Christmas" in my CD player and I've decided (choose wisely, Grasshopper) this is the one.

My wife always looks forward (NOT) to this special time of the year. The thought of hearing "Jingle Bells" and "Hallelujah Chorus" (it's almost more than she can handel .. no groaning, please) every single time she gets in my car is more than a little bit disturbing. It all sounds like a baroque(n) record to her.

If you happen to be mowing the lawn or working in the flower bed today, be very careful. Drink plenty of water and wear a hat. The heat can cause you to see and HEAR strange things .. like the sounds of Christmas music blasting the airwaves from the inside of a 2008 Corvette .. or a 1996 Ford Taurus.

Whatever.

I Need My Beauty Sleep

Sunday naps are the best. For some strange reason, even though I don't do this regularly throughout the week, (honest, church family .. well, only during lunch hour) I love to lay down and take a long winter's (or summer's) nap on Sunday afternoons. It makes me feel refreshed and I'm able to accomplish far more afterwards (look, I can get out of the recliner and walk).

I survived New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary by taking a quick nap when needed (this occurred naturally after laying in the fetal position for long periods of time after Music History class .. Grout, I loath you).

We all need to get plenty of rest and Sunday makes the perfect day for that .. unless you have revivals, rehearsals, receptions or other sundry obligations. Today, I don't.

I want to be there if there is a need. If you have a need TODAY, call Greg.

Are You Still Here?

Today marks my ninth anniversary at First Baptist Church in Humboldt (I'm not quite sure if I'm bragging or complaining). It is by far my longest tenure at any institution (watch it .. watch it) and this calls for a time of reflection (mirror, mirror on the wall ..).

I recall my first staff meeting and how, afterwards, I felt so overwhelmed. I went back to my office and teared up a little (the uncontrollable crying didn't happen for another day or two) and thought that I had made a big mistake. Fortunately, all those feelings started to subside as I began to feel comfortable in this new environment (now, only the church members weep).

The hardest part about being somewhere for a long period of time is staying "fresh". It's so easy to get in a rut (a grave with the two ends kicked out) and just do the "same old, same old" day in and day out. I struggle with this constantly.

So .. we had a children's music camp for the very first time this summer. Handbells are going to get up and running after a long absence (it does make the heart grow fonder) and I am starting a senior adult choir this Fall (they're oldies .. but goodies).

Will this give me a new zeal and excitement for ministry? Probably not. I'm old. Nothing excites me these days. But, maybe they will let me hang on for another month or two.

Oops .. My Bad

I guess those Maytags ARE that dependable. It turns out there was nothing wrong with the washer. It was a clogged drain issue that was causing all the problems. Sorry,  Mr. Maytag repairman. You can go back to watching "All My Children" (when did Jessie come back on there?).

So .. I had to call a plumber (being over 50 means I am well aquainted with plumbing problems) to take a look at things and it took a good portion of the day before he could come. He did arrive, however, and had everything flowing smoothly (I don't even want to know what that means) in less than an hour. Thank you, Christopher Plumber (the hills are alive ..) for a job well done.

The fun never ends at the Hamiltons.

The Lonely Guy? Not Today

Well, the "Loneliest Guy in Town" gets a shot at going social as he interacts with the Hamilton family (hopefully) this weekend. Our Maytag washer started making sounds not found in nature a couple of nights ago and we have been afraid to use it ever since.

I'm not sure if you would describe the sound as "crushing" or "grinding". I just know it was annoying and went on .. and on .. and on .. and (Cheryl, don't go for the obvious on this one. I'm very sensitive).

I have had to learn to do a few minor repairs since moving in to "This Old House" nine years ago, but this is out of my league. Oh, I tried all the usual things. I turned it off then back on. I opened the lid and looked inside (three times). I even hit the machine on the side (this is how dad used to fix the TV). Nothing.

Clothes are piling up in the laundry room and it has a distinct aroma not unlike a locker room in July.

I'm calling for backup.

Put Your Best Foot Forward

If I'm able to keep my health (okay, I take blood pressure and cholesterol meds) and my wife stays with me (how much longer could that be? The woman is a saint), I still have several good years left in music ministry. However, with the uncertainty of my retirement fund, (I've quit looking at quarterly statements .. if I want to be depressed, I'll just watch the News) I have to make plans for keeping an income rolling in during my "golden years".

The guys who started Facebook have surely made a mint from this simple idea, so I plan to put a great deal of effort into launching .. Footbook. That's right, Footbook (my initial idea was "Tushbook", but I decided to Just Say NO to Crack).

People from all walks of life can post their best "foot fotos" (or phoot photos .. see the possibilities?) and find the feet of old friends. This could be huge (the concept, not the feet).

There are a few snags to work out, (do you allow bunions, corns, foot fungus or hammertoes? I want to be footlitically correct) but I'm in for the long haul (hey it's my future).

Where There's a Will ...

Today my son-in-law, Will, is a quarter of a century old. I hope he reads this blog because that's all he's getting from me. Actually, Cheryl sent his birthday card back with Megan (if the card didn't have money in it .. check her pockets).

I can almost remember being twenty five. Almost. That was such a long time ago. Enjoy this time of your life. It's all downhill from here (encouragement is my spiritual gift, you know).

We have grown to love and appreciate Will even more since we have gotten to know him. He works hard and adores Megan. What more could any father-in-law want, right?

The fact that he married my baby daughter, moved her over 800 miles away from me, and who's birthday was the reason she HAD to cut her visit short to get back home, doesn't hack me off at all. I'm fine and dandy with it.

Happy Freakin' Birthday!!!

Leaving on a Jet Plane

Cheryl was a "Navy brat" (I was just a brat) which meant she changed addresses quite a bit growing up (it's a good thing she married a minister to put a stop to that). Just as she got settled in and comfortable in one location, Uncle Sam decided it was time to move on.

One of the more exotic spots (not that NAS Millington wasn't) where her dad was stationed was the Philippines. Cheryl has a childhood memory of that duty (the word still makes me laugh) station which included a jukebox with a song by John Denver, (performed, most likely, by Peter, Paul and Mary) "Leaving On a Jet Plane." The people there LOVED the song and it played CONSTANTLY all day long.

Because she heard it SOOO many times, Cheryl has a problem with the song. So do I.

Today Megan is leavin' on a jet plane and going back to North Carolina. She told me, "Don't know when I'll be back again" (it's 800 miles).

Hubby, Will is glad but .. Oh, babe, I hate to see you go.

I Still Miss You, But My Aim's Gettin' Better

Yesterday afternoon, I attended a reception honoring a couple who had been married for seventy .. that's right .. seventy years! Can you even fathom this? Many don't live to see the age of 70, but this couple had been in the bonds of holy macaroni for that amount of time.

I asked Cheryl if she thought our marriage could last for seventy years. She said, "I certainly hope not."

Come to think of it, she's probably right. I have watched her on more than one occasion in the kitchen holding a knife and staring out the window with a sinister smile on her face. It could be nothing, but I'm sleeping with one eye open.

Outrigger (Fantasy) Island

The morning church service at FBC Humboldt featured elements from this week's Vacation Bible School. The children sat close to the front wearing their "Outrigger Island" shirts and they sang three of the songs (motions and all) that we had learned at Bible school. It was not a typical Sunday morning worship time, but then again, what is?

Two of the children made public the decisions they made for Christ on Wednesday and there are still five more that we have for followup. Hopefully, they will get "plugged in" to a church (ours or another) in the weeks ahead.

As we "pretended" to be in Hawaii with our palm tree decorations and grass skirts, our youth minister, Russ, actually IS. He and Susan were married yesterday in Allen, Texas and they are spending their honeymoon IN Hawaii.

Cheryl and I have been married for almost 28 years. We went to Gatlinburg on our honeymoon and we still have NOT been to Hawaii.

Gotta go. I'm headed over to Russ' house now with several cans of spray paint and a lot of bitterness.

Stop Staring

Our families are coming over this afternoon to see Megan and eat supper (that's dinner for you city slickers). It's hard for her to "make the rounds" when she does get to come home, so they are coming to our house to feast their eyes on this wonder called ... Meg.

Cheryl spent a good bit of time preparing the food yesterday, so all she has to do today is put it in the oven and/or on the grill.

I love having Meg home for more than just the obvious reasons. Since the kids have been gone, our schedule and eating habits have changed quite a bit. Cheryl and I seem to be running even more than when they were small. So ... the oven has been turned into a filing cabinet. When Megan comes home, however, all the paperwork is cleared out and Cheryl suddenly becomes "Betty Crocker" again. Whatever Megan wants, Megan gets.

This is bitter-sweet since Cheryl plays by the "international laws of home cooking" rule: If she cooks, someone else cleans up afterwards. That someone else is me.

Cheryl is a great cook so, it's worth it.

Love Will Keep Us Together

I arrived at the AT&T store at 7:05 this morning and I was number 10 in line for the new iPhone. I believe the first few people were there before 5 AM. The doors opened at 8 o'clock and only six customers at a time (they had six reps on hand at this location) were allowed to enter the store.

The process was supposed to take about 15 minutes, but that was not the case. Either Apple's servers or AT&T's (both were blamed) were not up to the task (like at the intro of the first iPhone last year). They ended up checking everyone out and sending them home to activate their own phone with iTunes 7.7.

I was able to port over my number from Verizon and put the new phone in my name (my old phone was under the church's account) in a matter of minutes, but I had to leave the store with an iBrick.

VBS had begun, so I ran by the house and changed into my "Billy Bob Tourist" (don't even ask) outfit before returning to the church (around 9:30). While I was home, I tried to connect to iTunes to activate service. No dice (church leaders, that's only an expression). After lunch, I came back home and tried (if at first you don't succeed ..) for a good thirty minutes or so. Finally, the activation screen came up and a few clicks later, I was in business.

It will take a little time to learn all the nuances of this little gem, but that's okay. You don't mind spending time with the one you love.

Are You Sleeping? Are You Sleeping?

Tomorrow I am getting up early and going over to the AT&T store in Jackson to land a new Apple iPhone 3G. I will get there at 7:30 AM (they open at 8) and hope to get checked out and back in time for the start of VBS (our last day .. yeah!!!).

I'm a "gadget guy". I admit it. However, I've never had to be the very first to purchase a new product. It's different this time. Verizon ("Can you hear me now? I said, "Can you hear me now? Anyone? Anyone?") is terrible at the church office and I'm tired of missing calls when I'm there. So ... I'm jumping ship. Going with a different carrier and hoping for the best. The timing is right. The moon and stars are perfectly aligned (church family, I don't believe in that stuff so don't fire me. I need the money to buy my iPhone).

The rest of my family will stay with Verizon .. for now. So, since I am getting the plan with the least number of minutes and going with a different company, that knocks out "mobile to mobile". This simply means we won't be able to talk anymore (at least until I build up rollover minutes). I'm also NOT paying extra for texting. Letters and faxes ARE acceptable, but please keep them brief.

In case of an emergency, call 911.

A Chicken(?) in Every Pot

There are only two days left of Vacation Bible School and I can honestly say (as opposed to lying through my teeth) that we have had NO problems whatsoever. The children have been well behaved and it has gone smoothly.

Well, not THAT smoothly. I have not dealt with kids in a very long time and it is obvious from this photo that there was a slight misunderstanding when this child asked to go to the potty.