I’m on a Horse
I just participated in a few fantasy football mock drafts on ESPN’s website. In case you’re keeping track, these are make-pretend drafts of a make-pretend draft where players play on your make-pretend team. I’m three levels of fantasy removed from reality. This can’t be good.
I was chatting with my friend Kurt who has played something called Strat-O-Matric football for years. From what I can tell, it’s like fantasy football on drugs. Here is how he describes it:
It is kind of a coaching simulator. You have your team and actually call the plays for your team. Your players abilities are based upon their performance in the prior NFL season. It used to be a cards and dice game (it’s been around since the 60′s), but has a computer version now, which allows me to play with the same people I played with when I was a kid. We are a keeper league, so you have to scout players out pretty carefully (at every position, full 53 man roster) because you generally try to put together a team that will be good year to year. Most of the good players are already on rosters before the draft even starts. For instance I took Brandon Pettigrew for Detroit in the 3rd round, not really a good pick in a regular fantasy league.
This Strat-O-Matic thing sounds really intense. It sounds like something I might get into so much, I would do nothing else but do research for the game. It would be like my own personal World of Warcraft. I would get so addicted, I would think that I would need years of therapy to undo the obsession.
Thought of the Day
Sometimes, when life gets really bad, I think about how lint must feel to be jammed up inside someone’s belly button for hours, days or even years and how bad it must smell when it comes out – if it ever, indeed, does come out. It usually doesn’t make me feel any better. Last time I checked, lint doesn’t have feelings. It’s kind of a non-issue.
Discover Security
I got a voicemail from Discover Card today making me aware of some suspicious activity and wanting to verify that my account had not been compromised. Feeling a little unnerved, I quickly gave the provided number a return call.
After being connected with their automated system, I learned that three transactions in particular were in question. I braced myself. Next, they told me what those transactions were. Two were for purchases of CD’s (the kind you listen to, not the kind you invest in). The final was for an Android application that helps find missing album artwork for the music player on your phone. All told, the transactions totaled about $10.
There must be some very vigilant folks working at Discover. It reminded me of the time when my roommate in college woke me up at 5:45 in the morning to ask if he could take a dime from my coin jar to use it for the train. Despite being roused quite early, it was pretty clear that he was never going to steal from me.
There is a scripture in the Bible that essentially says that if you can’t be trusted with little things, you can’t be trusted with big things either (Luke 16:10). Though a bit extreme, it sounds like they took that lesson to heart.
To an Athlete Dying Young
Today marks twenty years to the day since the death of Hank Gathers. Still makes me sad.
To an Athlete Dying Young
by A. E. Housman (1859-1936)
The time you won your town the race
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.
To-day, the road all runners come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home,
And set you at your threshold down,
Townsman of a stiller town.
Smart lad, to slip betimes away
From fields where glory does not stay
And early though the laurel grows
It withers quicker than the rose.
Eyes the shady night has shut
Cannot see the record cut,
And silence sounds no worse than cheers
After earth has stopped the ears:
Now you will not swell the rout
Of lads that wore their honours out,
Runners whom renown outran
And the name died before the man.
So set, before its echoes fade,
The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
And hold to the low lintel up
The still-defended challenge-cup.
And round that early-laurelled head
Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,
And find unwithered on its curls
The garland briefer than a girl’s.
On Sunday, March 4, 1990, Hank Gathers collapsed with 13:34 left in the first half of a West Coast Conference tournament quarterfinal game against, just after scoring on an alley-oop dunk that put the Loyola Marymount Lions up 25–13. He was declared dead on arrival at a nearby hospital at the age of 23.
Hank Gathers: February 11, 1967 – March 4, 1990
January 1, 2010
First off, I hope that your 2009 was better than mine and that your 2010 will be better than mine as well. I have to admit that I was a bit saddened to find out that the next decade doesn’t officially begin until 2011. I was really hoping for a new one. My friend Koo had a facebook status update that summarized my feelings on this past year pretty well. He had this to say:
2009 was difficult, but important. glad to be moving on…
I could say the same thing about every year since y2k. Each one was hard, but important. I can say it was important, because I wouldn’t be here typing to you had I missed one.
This blog has kind of sucked lately. I hope you like reading these quotes and book reviews. Lately, I find it easier to repost or respond to what has already been written. Apart from that, I’ve been in a long season of not having much to say. It’s like putting your hands into your pockets and coming out empty, save for a crumpled up napkin and a few pieces of lint. There is only so much you can do with lint and napkins. Come to think of it more, I don’t know of anything you can do with lint and napkins.
Writing has been like a vacation to Europe. When you have the time to go to Europe, you don’t have the money. When you have the money to go to Europe, you don’t have the time. I find that I have no time for writing when I have the most to say and I have all the time in the world for writing when things are stale. Isn’t it ironic? Don’t you think? A little too ironic? Yeah, I really do think.
I don’t have the energy to make a long list of resolutions this year, so I’ll boil it down to one. I resolve to keep doing the best I can. No matter the outcome, what else can I do? And, in keeping with my theme of having nothing of my own to add, I will echo the words of the apostle Paul:
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
- Romans 15:13
Of course, that is what makes the difficult years tolerable – the trustworthy God of all hope knows he what is doing. There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven.
Happy New Years to you and thank God for another fresh start. For me, things aren’t too bad. I never really wanted to go to Europe anyway.
Beyond Words
I grew up hearing everyone tell me ‘God loves you’. I would say big deal, God loves everybody. That don’t make me special! That just proves that God ain’t got no taste.
- Rich Mullins
My friend Sarah has graciously given me permission to copy something from her blog. Consider this a guest post of sorts.1 At the end, I’ll tell you why I chose to focus on this post. In the meantime, here is what she had to say:
In the book, Captivating, Stasi Eldredge tells a story of how God had given both her and her husband little gifts to show His love. First her husband, alone on a beach, sees a whale surface, and feels that this is for him and him alone, at a time when he really needed to know God loved him. Stasi feels a little jealous of his experience and the next time she’s alone on a beach asks God for a whale too. After a few minutes with no whale she walks away from the water, only to come across a beautiful star fish. Taking in the beauty and perfection of the little creation, she knows that God is speaking to her, showing His love. Then, exceeding her expectations she comes to a place where hundreds of starfish are scattered across the sand as far as she can see, and she is overwhelmed by the extravagance of His love.
Since reading that I’ve both asked God for special gifts like that and tried to recognize and give thanks when He surprises me with an amazing sunset or a shooting star. One could argue that thousands of people may have seen the same things, but they usually seem to come at times when I need to hear or feel something from God and they affirm that He’s with me and caring for me.
Most recently God’s been giving me rainbows. A month or two ago I was driving south towards MA, as I do several times a week, heading to church or to hang out with friends. It was a misty, sprinkly, sunny kind or day—perfect rainbow conditions. I’m conviced that New Englad has the best rainbows as I’ve seen several full, giant rainbows while living here. As I approached a spot that overlooks a bit of a valley, where I’ve seen rainbows before, I said, “Lord it would be awesome if you could show me a rainbow today.” Just as I finished that prayer the car ahead of me kicked up some water and the light caught it, producing a rainbow. I laughed. It was not at all what I had expected, but it was a rainbow and it was just for me. A few minutes later I also got the big rainbow in the sky out my driver’s side window.
Just this evening as I drove down to church for the 6PM service I was thinking about that day and how once again I was driving in “rainbow conditions.” I wondered if I’d see more little rainbows…and then I started seeing them everywhere! Cars all around me were picking up water and flinging it into the air, creating rainbows in their wake. This went on for a mile or two; it was beautiful and so much more that I could have imagined. To top it all off, when I got to church one of the greeters opened the door and welcomed me and said, “did you see the big rainbow?” I turned back towards the parking lot and sure enough there was a huge rainbow in the sky.
A similar story is conveyed in the book I recently reviewed by Leigh McLeroy. Leigh was feeling pretty down on Valentine’s Day and asked God for a symbol of His love for her. Not long afterward, she picked up a leaf in the shape of a heart on the sidewalk.
* * *
I’ve been doing my best to deal with a series of crushing disappointments which has left me with the perpetual feeling of having been kicked in the gut by a horse. I had Sarah’s post and Leigh’s story in mind as I asked God to do something for me that would hold special meaning. I was in need of a reminder that I am uniquely loved.
As I was wrapping up my quote at the end of a recent post about how much inscriptions mean to me, I accidentally lost my place. The page flipped to the one in the picture below. I purchased the book used and never realized that it had been signed.
The inscription said this:
For Becca,
“Who doth cause the candles to burn bright.” With best love and boundless admiration.
- Fred
If you’ve spent any time on this blog, you could easily guess that Frederick Buechner is far and away my favorite author. I’m sure that on June 24, 2004, he had no idea what these few words would do for somebody else. God’s hand was once again on Fred. This time, though, his thoughts were on me.
… for your father knows what you need before you ask him. - Matthew 6:8
- As a side note, I would love to have some more guest posters on this blog or be a guest poster on someone else’s blog. Let me know if you are interested. ↩
Thanksgiving Reflections
I celebrated Thanksgiving in an old-fashioned way. I invited everyone in my neighborhood to my house, we had an enormous feast, and then I killed them and took their land. – Jon Stewart
Sometimes, the main thing you have to be thankful for is that “this too, will pass”. Of course, not everything will indeed pass. 1 Even after sifting and shaking, some things remain. 2 But, sometimes the best you can do to get through one day is to know that a different and better day is on the horizon.
And, being in need is a gift as well. I don’t have much money anymore. Every now and then, I will treat myself to food that I used to enjoy all the time. It tastes better now. It is the same, but it is different.
Then there are friends that I seldom see anymore but used to see all the time. One of my best friends moved to Texas and the other is in Washington, D.C. Now, when I do see them, it means a little extra.
And then there is the feeling that a God who once seemed close is nowhere to be found. As always, Frederick Buechner knows exactly what to say:
I believe that we know much more about God than we admit that we know, than perhaps we altogether know that we know. God speaks to us, I would say, much more often than we realize or than we choose to realize. Before the sun sets every evening, he speaks to each of us in an intensely personal and unmistakable way. His message is not written out in starlight, which in the long run would make no difference; rather it is written out for each of us in the humdrum, helter-skelter events of each day; it is a message that in the long run might just make all the difference.
Who knows what he will say to me today or to you today or into the midst of what kind of unlikely moment he will choose to say it. Not knowing is what makes today a holy mystery as every day is a holy mystery. But I believe that there are some things that by and large God is always saying to each of us. Each of us, for instance, carries around inside himself, I believe, a certain emptiness – a sense that something is missing, a restlessness, the deep feeling that somehow all is not right inside his skin. Psychologists sometimes call it anxiety, theologians sometimes call it estrangement, but whatever you call it, I doubt that there are many who do not recognize the experience itself, especially no one of our age, which has been variously termed the age of anxiety, the lost generation, the beat generation, the lonely crowd. Part of the inner world of everyone is this sense of emptiness, unease, incompleteness, and I believe that this in itself is a word from God, that this is the sound that God’s voice makes in a world that has explained him away. In such a world, I suspect that maybe God speaks to us most clearly through his silence, his absence, so that we know him best through our missing him.3
In large part, I think that this is what earth is all about. Earth is about realizing what you are missing and intensely longing for all those things to be restored. This Thanksgiving, I am most thankful that this day of restoration is on the horizon.
I used to hate it when people would say that every day is Christmas. That is flat out wrong. How can it be the case? A birthday only comes once a year. I think a better argument could be made that every day is Thanksgiving. Every day is an opportunity to be grateful. We are told that in all circumstances to give thanks. 4
Over time, though, I’ve also softened my stance on Christmas as well. Every day is a gift. Each breath is a mercy.5
I close these reflections with some words from a song by Jason Gray:
The curse undone, the veil is parted.
The garden gate will be left unguarded.
- Matthew 24:35 ↩
- 1 Corinthians 13:13 ↩
- Listening to Your Life: Daily Meditations with Frederick Buechner ↩
- 1 Thessalonians 5:18 ↩
- Andrew Peterson, “Serve Hymn” ↩
What does she see in me?
I went to a training salon for a free haircut. A pretty young lady ended up cutting my hair. I wanted her to find me attractive. However, my hair was especially out of sorts. It was embarrassing how bad it looked.
It set up an interesting situation. The better she cut my hair, the better chance I had at looking good. I didn’t want her to see me as I was. I wanted her to envision what I could be and I needed her to help me get there.
Blame It On Her Wild Heart
I remember what it was like to dance before having self-awareness. You could get lost in the music. You could let it move you however you desired. You didn’t have to worry about what you looked like or how you came across or what others might think of your moves. You simply were. You existed.
I remember the chants of “Nomar” and “MVP”. The boyish shortstop with the wide smile. The one who cheered for the fans even as they cheered for him. I remember how they said that he played his best when he was playing with joy. The “love of the game,” they called it. It was the time before he “lost his smile”.
I wonder what it is like to be a professional athlete or musician. I wonder the point at which joy turns into duty and spontaneity turns into drudgery. There was a time when I couldn’t believe that athletes got paid to play baseball. Now, I wonder if a few of them aren’t so disappointed when the season ends. It becomes about money. Or fame. Maybe the love just wears off over time. Perhaps the continual demand to perform is just too great. Save for the littlest of little ones, there is so much pressure on us all.
I know next to nothing about Stevie Nicks. I mentioned her a few posts ago, but I wasn’t sure of her first name. I don’t even know what this song is all about. All I know is that she was singing it with joy. Who knows if she knew she was being recorded. I don’t think it mattered. For a few moments, she was a little girl again. Her wild heart was free.
The song not sung in vain
I had to wonder what that guy in church today was thinking. He looked to be in his mid-30′s. His longish hair was feathered and spiked at the top. He was wearing dark jeans and sneakers. No belt. His multi-colored striped shirt didn’t match itself, nevermind anything else. A sports watch adorning his left wrist. His leather trench coat jacket lay splashed across the empty seat next to him. He had a good deal of acne across his face. He was alone. In the corner. We were singing:
Here I am to worship, how I am to bow down, here I am to say that you’re my God. You’re altogether lovely, altogether worthy, altogether wonderful to me.
I wonder if he had a hard time getting into that song. I wonder if the words were really moving him. At one point, I caught him picking his nose. He didn’t close his eyes when the pastor prayed. His arms were folded. He stared off across the room. I’m not sure if he was fixated on a person or empty space. He was the first to leave once the service ended. Where was he going? Why did he show up in the first place? Had he found what he was looking for?
Could I blame him for not seeming into it? No. I could not. I have the same problem sometimes. After all, I spent more time focused on him than I did on anything else. Maybe he couldn’t relate to the words. And, I started wondering if he felt like the whole thing was one big sham. I wouldn’t have blamed him had he decided to flip off the entire congregation and walk out in the middle of the song. I’m sure that he had more than a few reasons to do just that.
At the same time, I am glad that he was in church. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. It may not happen immediately, but they will be filled.1 In the meantime, sometimes the best you can do is to sing in faith. And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him.2 Whether or not this man felt it, I believe that God was pleased.
Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” – John 20:29