The Door Knocker

I'm just like any other person. I have a first and last name, biological parents, a social security number, some education, a drivers license, and a first-aid certification that expired a few years ago. There's not much to me, but I've carried a lot of junk over the years just like most people. I've hurt people and people have hurt me. I've been sick many times and had pain in my body for years. It seems like money's always tight. Sometimes I get those deep thinking moments. Not that often, but sometimes. And sometimes I cry myself to sleep because I'm worried about different things.

I live in a biggish, smallish city in the middle-ish part of the country with a medium size population of citizens. The crime rate isn't sky-high, but there are definitely some hard characters in certain parts of town. There are also really good characters. I've met a lot of them. Really kind and friendly people who will listen to you and give you advice. But there's one character that lives in this town who's unlike anyone else.

I've heard about him my whole life, but I've never met him. I haven't seen him, but people always say that he's one of a kind. I've heard stories about how he gives generously to poor folks. He's a doctor, too. Some one else said that he's one of those psychologists. He lets children play in his front yard and he sometimes appears at local bookstores to read stories to them. The city's orchestra performed an original composition written by him. Even some of his paintings and sculptures have appeared in the town's annual art festival.

Once, I visited an elderly woman's house and saw the most beautiful book shelf in her living room. She claimed that he made it for her and gave it as a gift. He even planted a flower garden in her backyard. The woman said that he was the most charitable, kind-hearted, yet mysterious man she had ever met. I've heard many people describe him as "strange." They've said that he's just a lonely man who enjoys watching people from his window and reading books all day--maybe even challenging himself to a game of chess from time to time.I've never known what to think of him. I was always awful curious about him. If I could just get a good look at him, maybe even say hello and introduce myself, then maybe I could have my own opinion about him.

One day I decided that I wanted to meet him face to face. I took a walk to his house and stood gazing at it for the longest time. It wasn't like me at all to introduce myself to strangers. I don't even like striking up conversations with people I see every day. I guess it's just because I'm shy. I started to practice my introduction to the air.

"Hello, sir.... uh... it's uh... nice to meet you... I've heard a lot about you, sir, and well.... I just.... Oh that sounds stupid! No, no. Uh.... uh....." I stood there without saying a word. I started pacing back and forth on the sidewalk.

Finally, I mustered up the courage to walk to the doorstep. I noticed a plaque above the frame that had a phrase inscribed on it. It read: "Ask and it will be given. Seek and you will find. Knock and the door will be opened." I made a weak fist, raised it to the surface of the wood, and gave a reluctant knock.

After a long moment, there was no answer. I thought that I didn't knock loud enough. I slowly knocked again, but more forcefully this time. Still no answer. Maybe he wasn't at home this time of the day. I looked at my watch and made a note to try again at a different time... maybe on another day. I walked away occasionally looking back at the house wondering when I would have enough courage to knock again.

I went through the whole week with that man on my mind. I couldn't fall asleep because I was thinking so much about that afternoon. The phrase above his door kept replaying in my head... "Knock and the door will be opened.... knock.... knock...." It was driving me crazy. I woke up early the next morning shortly after the sun came up. I sat up in bed thinking about going to knock again. Just so I could see him.

Before I knew it, I was dressed, my shoes were tied, and I was walking out of my house toward his in a mission-like manner. Nothing stopped me. Even when I reached the front yard, I kept marching to the door. I didn't hesitate this time. I just knocked long and hard. No answer. I paused for a few moments, read the plaque again, and raised up my knocker. Before I could plant the first one, I heard someone behind me.

"He's not going to open the door for you," he said with his bike handles in each hand, standing a few yards away and erect with a sure facial expression. Surprised and uncertain of what to say, I stood there looking and feeling stupid.

"I.... I just.... wanted to see if he would..."

"Well he's not gonna. I've never seen him before in my life. I'm not even sure if he's alive anymore. I heard that he died years ago. And even if he was alive, he wouldn't let anyone in his house. He's not very hospitable. You have to be in the major leagues, a real VIP, in order to get his attention. You might as well just forget it. Why do you care so much anyway? You want something from him? You down on your luck? Well he ain't no wishin' well. Fat chance you'll get anything out of him."

"Oh.... I see.... well.... thanks for the tip," I said with a melancholy voice.

"Yup." He rode off toward down town.

I turned back to face the door and read those words once more--one last time before I walked away. That was the last time I went to his house for months. And those months became years. My life changed a lot in some ways, but I pretty much stayed the same. I started a career, got married, bought a house and a new car, and had a few kids. Life got so busy, I had almost forgotten about that man. Sometimes when I was alone, I would think about the door and those words, but then I would push that memory away.

Slowly, my life seemed to fall apart. I thought that the one I married was committed to me, but I turned out to be wrong. Money became tighter than ever. My life seemed to repeat itself day after day. It felt meaningless and I fell into a deep depression. I tried to make my laughs sound genuine when my children told me jokes, but they never felt real. One night, I thought long and hard about life--too hard. I started sobbing because of the intense feeling of emptiness.

Then, I thought about the man. My thoughts battled each other.
"Maybe he could.... I don't know.... help me?"
"Help me? With WHAT?! Is he going to rub my head and pat the back of my hand?"
"Maybe he'll listen."
"He's probably not even alive anymore! Don't count on it. He won't even answer his own door."
"Why did he have a plaque that said 'Knock and the door will be open?'"

That phrase again. It gripped me. I could almost feel it... like it was pulling me downstairs toward my front door, through my front lawn and down the street on the sidewalk. I started to jog a little and that jog turned into a sprint through downtown. I zigzagged among groups of people walking on the strip, hopped over fire hydrants a few times, and ignored the comments of people as they saw me running in such an urgent manner.

It was a really strange phenomenon. My body never felt tired even though it was at least a 5 mile trek to the man's house. I finally saw the house from a hundred yards away and my eyes gazed on it until I met the front steps of the door. A chill had settled after the sunset and now that I had stopped running, I felt it even more.

It was the first time in a long time that I stood facing that door. This time there no hint of reluctance. I boldly beat my knuckles against the polished wood. I knocked again and again and again and again. It seemed that several minutes had passed, but I kept knocking. It was as if fire was shooting through my muscles keeping my arm from tiring. Suddenly, the fire quit. I lowered my hand and sighed. I groaned, stomped my foot, sat down on the front step, and started to weep. All hope was completely lost and I didn't know what else to do but sit there and cry until it hurt.

It almost started to hurt until I heard the loud squeak of hinges. Oh, the beautiful, beautiful sound of an opening door! I flung my head around and looked up. There stood the man. He was tall and stately with a handsome face and piercing eyes. My muscles locked.

You know the kind of awkward feeling you have when someone catches you crying on their doorstep?

I shot up, straightened my shirt, and stuck my hand out.
"Hello, sir."

He grabbed my hand and gave a hearty shake.
"I've been waiting for you to come knocking on my door."

I didn't know how to respond to his shocking statement, but before I said something, he invited me inside. I walked in and gazed at his beautiful hard wood floors, elegant walls, and numerous paintings--some where classics and originals and others were finger paintings and framed drawings of stick figures. This really puzzled me. We walked into the library. There was a fire place with two large arm chairs surrounded by book cases that reached the ceiling. I quickly scanned the titles of the books written in gold letters. They were history books, psychology books, botany, chemistry, anatomy, mathematics, economics, physics, philosophy, classic literature, Latin, Greek, gardening, carpentry, culinary, best-sellers, dictionaries and encyclopedias. This guy was smart.

He invited me to take one of the chairs in front of the fire place. When he invited me, he used my name. I had not told him my name before. I was puzzled again, but I didn't say anything. I couldn't speak. Sitting in front of that man was like sitting on top of a mountain. I don't know what it was about him, but I could hardly move and when I did move, it was in very slow, heavy motion.

He asked me what was troubling me and suddenly my mouth started to work again. In fact, I was spilling out words a hundred miles a minute and then tears started to run down my face. Suddenly I found myself kneeling on the floor in front of him. I told him more than I had ever shared with any other person in my entire life--all of my hang ups and pet peeves and failures and depressing thoughts. I felt tension leave my body and this really peaceful feeling loosened my muscles. I felt like I had just left a massage therapist--a really good one. The best one in the world.

I took a deep breath and looked at him. He started talking. The sound of his voice is extremely hard to describe, but it was the best sound I've ever heard. His words were like smooth water and then like fire. He told me things that I wished I had heard years ago. He talked to my depression and sickness like they were robbers in my house. He told them to get out. This would seem strange to anyone listening, but to me, it was exactly what I needed and was the most logical thing in the world to do. I stood up straight and felt strength again. I felt like my life was worth something for the first time.

After meeting him, I have not been the same in any way. The doctors told me that the sickness that was ruling in my body was gone. Money seemed to pour in from unexpected sources. I could laugh real laughs at my children's jokes and pain from my broken marriage was restored when I called and gave forgiveness.

After that night, I have come back to the man's house many times. I've brought my family to see him and there have been many occasions where I've brought complete strangers with me as I was walking to see him. I have never seen anyone like him and never in my life have I seen so many very unlikely things happen nor drastic life change until the night I knocked on his door.

The Things I've Seen

In my short 24 years of life, I've had the chance to go to a lot of different places. I've listened to people's opinions and witnessed their defining moments. I've seen expressions of ecstatic joy and piercing pain. I've tasted food from the greatest feasts and spit out the most disgusting slop. I've climbed mountains and I've sat and chatted in quaint coffee shops. The funny thing is I never had to leave my room to do it.


I've sat on the front steps of Bag End watching the smoke rings of Bilbo Baggins and Gandalf float away in the summer air. I nervously sat on the cold clammy floor of Gollum's cave listening to an epic battle of the wittiest riddles. I was hiding behind the gallant Bilbo as he slashed ferocious arachnids in the dark forest of Mirkwood. In great, heavy fear, I tip-toed through the piles of gold coins and jewels so that Smaug, the great dragon, would not awake to find Bilbo and I sneaking through his precious treasure.

-The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien


I felt the same curiosity and amazement that Lucy Pevensie felt as we pushed through the hefty fur coats in the wardrobe to discover the shocking cold and wetness of winter snow and the wonder of Narnia. I know the pain that Susan and Lucy felt as they witnessed their beloved Aslan being ridiculed and murdered. I also know the overwhelming ecstasy of his resurrection, the thrill of flying through the air on his back, and the victory of slaying the evil Witch.

-The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis


I shoveled for hours each day in the salt mines with young Booker T. Washington, trying to fill Barrel 18 to the brim so we could clock out for the day. I watched him teach his night classes to Native American students after his long day of pouring over books and cleaning the campus of Hampton University. I stood in the crowd of hundreds of whites as he proudly delivered his Atlanta Compromise speech. I watched him for hours plan and promote and pray as he gradually built up Tuskegee University--the first university for colored men and women in the U.S.

-Up From Slavery by Booker T. Washington


In the secret room of a cozy clock shop in Holland, I sat with the others hoping that we wouldn't be caught. I heard the voice of the courageous Corrie Ten Boom speak with the Nazi lieutenant.
"WHERE ARE YOUR JEWS?!"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
I heard the thuds of his fist against her face and chest. "Lord Jesus, help me!" she cried. They took her away to a place we didn't have to go.

-The Hiding Place by Corrie Ten Boom


Back in 37 A.D. on the day Aulus Arelius died, I floated with him to Heaven. I experienced the inexpressible joy of being in the place I was created to be. I deeply understood Aulus as he wrote in his letter, " Even the casual acquaintance here carries more depth and more feeling. I am in love with every person. Heaven is the consummate "in love" experience."

-Letters From a Martyred Christian by H.L. Hussmann


Mr. Phileas Fogg is one of the most interesting people I've ever met. Introverted, peaceful, and adventurous. He understands the value of disregarding fear, uncertainty, and doubt to take an impulsive, spontaneous challenge of traveling the world in a limited amount of time. He knows what it means to risk his life to save a beautiful stranger from cannibals in the Indian jungle--all for love. He is extremely detailed, strategic, and intentional. Traveling with him was one of the most exciting things I've ever experienced.

-Around the World in Eighty Days by Jules Verne


For 27 years, I learned the hard facts of living on an uncharted island. I couldn't have done it without the expertise of Robinson Crusoe, a drifter who was running from God. He ended up alone on an island because of a shipwreck. I learned how to build a house and keep up with the days and years (marking sticks). I learned to make friends with a local cannibal. We named him Friday and won his soul to Jesus Christ.

-Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Renfroe


I met Elisabeth Howard, one of the most inspiring women I've known, at Wheaton College. She was a Greek major and the love interest of the robust, passionate college wrestler Jim Elliot. I read their love letters and understood their caution in pursuing a romantic relationship. They waited a long time until they finally felt peace from God. I watched my good friend become Mrs. Elisabeth Elliot.

-Passion and Purity by Elisabeth Elliot


We had a good life, Soon Ok Lee and I. Government jobs in North Korea are the best jobs in the country. But one day, someone asked us to do a favor that was against our morals and we refused. They had us thrown into prison. When we arrived, the guard greeted us with soiled prison clothes and the most wrenching statement I've ever heard: "Forget that you are human and you will survive." Countless nights, the guards would strip us down and beat us menacingly. We were forced to work nearly 20 hours each day with the energy from two hours of sleep and a few handfuls of rice. I don't know how many people I watched fall to the ground in exhaustion or death. The "Heaven People", as everyone called them, were there because they believed in God. We didn't understand why they were so willing to take the blame for each others faults for the sake of saving another's back from more bruises. The Heaven People had some kind of connection with each other that the rest of us didn't have. It's like they understood something we didn't. We were eventually released from that evil place and escaped to South Korea. Soon Ok was reunited with her son and she wrote a book about everything that happened.

-Eyes of the Tailless Animals by Soon Ok Lee


I saw the creation of the world. I listened to Noah be ridiculed for believing that the world was going to be flooded. I ran with Abraham and Lot to escape the flames of Sodom and Gomorrah. I was thrown into a pit with Joseph. I walked with the former slaves of Egypt along the walls of the Red Sea. I screamed with all of my energy with the Israelite army and watched those towering walls of Jericho collapse before my eyes. I watched Jael hammer a tent peg into the head of Sisera as he was sleeping. I helped David pick out some stones before he cleverly struck a fatal blow to the head of the giant Goliath. I toured Israel with King Josiah and we destroyed Asherah poles and Baal temples so that God's people would return to him. My emotions were stirred as I heard the passionate words and saw the powerful actions of Jesus from Nazareth. I witnessed the mysterious event of His followers receiving power on the day of Pentecost. I listened to the church leaders of Corinth, Galatia, Philippi, Rome, Colosse, and Thessalonica read the convicting words of Paul in his letters to the churches. I saw the vision of the New Heaven and New Earth with John. I will meet my Jesus there.

-The Bible


*For other great books, see "Favorite Books"

Best Friend

I tried to log on to my online bank account. It repeatedly claimed that my account was locked down and to call some 800 number to resolve the problem.

I dialed, listened to a computer and responded to the command options. Finally, I was able to talk with a human.

"What can I help you with today?"
"My online account keeps saying that it's locked."

He proceeded to ask me very detailed questions about purchases I had made to verify my account so he could allow me to access it again. He asked me to give answers to my security questions. I remembered and was able to answer all of them correctly, but I had forgotten about a last one.

"And.. there's a fourth question. Do you remember it?"
".....uhh.... I don't remember any other ones."
"It's 'Who is your best friend?'"

An enormous smile stretched across my face.

I answered, "....Jesus...."
"Yes.... Jesus is your best friend..... Is there anything else I can help you with?"
"....No... no, that's all."

Faith Flavored Ramen Noodles

It's been a few thousand years since my last blog, so I'm gonna make this a goodn'

I want to tell you a story--a pretty incredible story, actually.

It took place this past summer. I was living in Murray with a couple of my friends and was without a job. (Before I moved in, I thought I was going to work at a specific place, but found out they weren't going to hire me). For most of the summer, I was searching for a job, but I never found one. I had a small, trickling cash flow from my parents giving me money for rent and from mowing a friend's lawn every couple of weeks. Things were tight.

At the end of one month during the summer, I figured up my tithe. (That's ten percent of the money you're given or earned which belongs to God). After I subtracted the amount from the money in my account, it left me with $3. I also considered that I really needed to go to the grocery store. I think I had a couple packs of Ramen noodles and a few pieces of bread left on my food shelf. Yikes.

Giving the tithe that month did not seem like a logical option. I really struggled with the idea of using the tithe money to go to Walmart to get some food. (I know you're thinking this is absolutely ridiculous and that I should have just asked my parents for more money or mooch off of my roommates, but... it gets better....). I finally decided that it doesn't matter how desperate I felt, I had to give the tithe. I set the money aside and planned to give it the next chance that I could. I remember praying, "God... HELP. ME. PLEASE!"

On the day I was going to give away the money, someone came to me and said, "I feel like God wants me to give this to you." Can you say, "SIXTY DOLLARS CASH"? That's what they handed me. Even before I gave that money away, God fixed my situation.

Trust Him and keep being faithful. He'll take care of you.
And if you don't tithe, you need to. It's for your benefit. Really. Malachi 3

Nudge

A while back, my family and a couple of my neighbors were eating together at a restaurant called the Old Country Store. It's located in a place called "Casey Jones Village." If you have no clue who that is, you're probably not from West Tennessee. Casey Jones is a hero because he was a train engineer that did something brave in some kind of pretty serious train wreck and he died so we think he's awesome. (I forgot some major details of his credibility, obviously). There's even a song about him. I had to learn it in my fifth grade class (part of the curriculum?).

So while we were eating, I was telling everyone at the table about how I knew the song. Our neighbor kid then said that if anyone sings the song in front of everyone in the restaurant, you'll get a free dessert. My dad said that I should do it. That sounded absolutely absurd to me and I REFUSED to even attempt it. So, the next time our waitress came to the table, Dad said,

"This girl right here wants to sing the Casey Jones song for a free dessert."

"Oh, alright. I'll be right back with the cow bell so I can get everyone's attention,"' and then walked away immediately.... before I could even say anything.

The next thing I know, I'm standing up in the middle of a packed dinning room with dozens of people staring at me. I had no choice but to belt it out.

So I did. And I got a free sundae.


Almost every time I think about this incident, I think, "Man, THAT was embarrassing." What I don't usually think about is how it all ended: free ice cream. Also, it's easy for me to think that Dad wanted me to be uncomfortable so the people with me would be entertained, but the fact is, he just wanted me to have that dessert. I perceived that situation as negative, but it was extremely positive. The people in the dinning room clapped and cheered. Some even came up to me at our table and patted me on the back. Obviously, it was a good thing my dad nudged me.


Nudges are signs of a good relationship. The person doing the nudging shows their desire for the "nudgee" to succeed. (It does depend greatly on what it is you're being nudged to do, so just use wisdom). If you ever get a nudge, I suggest you see it as a "I believe in you" message and just do it. I don't think I've ever regretted acting on a nudge from people with wisdom and love.


"And let us consider and give attentive, continuous care to watching over one another, studying how we may stir up (stimulate and incite) to love and helpful deeds and noble activities."

Hebrews 10:24 Amplified

Zoe's Bucket of Beads

In a place not too far away and some time not too long ago, there was a small girl named Zoe. The best way to describe Zoe would be, as she would put it, "A pretty girl with brown, wavy hair and a really fantastic smile." On most days, Zoe would wear some kind of flower print outfit and a bright green head band. But today, she wore a plastic crown that said "Happy Birthday" around the band.

It was the evening of her birthday. Her dad took the crown off of her head, kissed her cheek, and tucked her under her covers. He left the light on at her request as he closed her door saying, "Goodnight, sweetheart." From the bed, she gazed at her most prized birthday gift: a bucket of a thousand beads. She couldn't help it any longer and jumped out of her bed to get that clear, shiny bucket. She poured the beads on a quilt spread on the floor. One by one, Zoe looked at the beads. She did this every night for about a month trying to decide which one was the most beautiful. She never decided.

Just about everywhere she went, her bucket of beads went with her. She would show them to her friends and her teachers at school and even people in the grocery store when she went with her mom. People were very puzzled about her fascination. They would ask if she was ever going to create something with them. Zoe would always reply with assurance, "Oh, I'm gonna make a really pretty necklace and... I might put some in my hair at the end of a braid... and make lots and lots of bracelets.... and maybe string them into a picture of a flower..." She had lots of ideas.

One morning, after her mother nudged her shoulder to get up, she rushed to the bathroom and stood on the little stool in front of the sink so she could make her face appear in the mirror. "PICTURE DAAAAAAAY!" she sung with her eyes closed tightly. She took her toothbrush and applied an extra large portion of toothpaste. Fifteen minutes later, Zoe was finally satisfied. Her dress was the next most important thing. This was her all time favorite dress. It was white and had small flowers along the hem and the ends of the sleeves with a large bow that tied below the back. "I'm the prettiest girl in the whoooooole world. I'm sure of it!"

She left her front porch carrying her lunch box and, of course, her bucket of beads. She sang a little made-up song to herself, "Walkin' to school. Yeah, yeah, yeah. All by myself. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Picture daaaaay. YEAH!" Her song was interrupted by a voice that made Zoe feel gross under her skin, but only for a moment. It was her classmate, Lucy. Zoe stopped in her tracts as Lucy walked slowly passed her to stand with Zoe face to face. "You're looking very... nice today," Lucy said to her with a smirk not meant to produce warm feelings. Zoe only looked at her and said nothing. "What have you got there? Beads? I'd like to have a look... if you don't mind," Lucy said with her eyes blazing blue.


Zoe lifted the lid of the bucket slowly. When she saw the beads, Lucy smiled a smile that seemed almost diabolical. As quick as a flash, she jerked her hand and grabbed one bead. "I especially like THIS ONE." There was dead silence as Zoe stared at her precious bead. Moments later, Lucy jolted away which stirred Zoe's heart with panic and passion as she ran after her. Zoe had left her bucket and lunch box on the sidewalk. They ran far off into a large field with patches of woods. Desperate thoughts raced through her mind as she ran past the bend in the path through the trees and found Lucy standing next to a wide mud pit made from the night's rain.


"Alright, we've ran far enough," Lucy said with her back to Zoe who had stopped for breath. She walked up to Lucy and was about to tell her to give back her bead so she could be on her way to school, but before the words left her mouth, she saw the bead tossed into the pit of muddy water and muck. She stopped herself on the edge of the pit. She could hardly believe what just happened. "Well, looks like it's 'Bye-bye, Beadie.'" Lucy snapped.


Zoe tried hard to hold back the tears welling up in her eyes and took a deep breath.
"NO!" she screamed right before she jumped in. She was down on her hands and knees hoping to feel a small, round object. The dress was drenched and her face became muddier as the minutes went by. At last, all of her panic stopped when she felt the bead between her fingers. She leaped out of the mud and yelled with all her energy, "I GOT YOU! I GOT YOU! You're MINE! You're MINE!"

"What is man that thou art mindful of him?
Psalm 8:4

And a Bottle of Goombay

Okay, so the last few blogs have been pretty intense. Time for some lite whip cream material. These are the events that took place from the time I got home from the Christ Ambassadors mission trip to Nassau, Bahamas until sometime where I decided that there is just too much more to say.

1. I walked through the front door to find my dad playing guitar and singing "I Still Can't Say Goodbye" by Chet Atkins. I completely forgot about that song. It was nice to hear it again.

2. I made my way to the pantry and found a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. I was pleased.

3. My dog wasn't so peppy. He's usually so peppy, I can hardly stand it. It's because, a week ago, he swallowed the cover of his stuffed soccer ball--whole.
I don't like the cover of that stuffed soccer ball.

4. I sat down in the living room recliner and had a good, long chat with Dad. We talked about mission trips, the U.S., how all people really want to go to Heaven, and read Matthew 5. It's a good chapter.

5. My big little brother came home from school wearing his extremely strict school dress code clothes. I forgot about the extremely strict school dress code and was pretty thankful that my graduation year allowed me to escape such a feat.

6. Logged onto Facebook and saw that my good buddy, Meredith, tagged me in a newspaper article from the Bahamas. Yes. We made the newspaper in another country.
That's what's up.

7. Got all of my dirty clothes from my car and took them to my room. Popped in a CD called "Reggae Redemption Songs" and blasted it. Sung along with Sheldon Blackman & The Love Circle in his song that started like this:

Ah-yeah-yeah-yeah
Yeah-yeah-yeah
Yeah-yeah-yeah
YEAAAAH
Evry mawn have a right to belieeeeeeve
Now, evry mawn have a right to receeeeeeeeive
De trut (he really means to say "the truth")
De trut
De TRUT

I realized that Sheldon Blackman and I are brother and sister because of Jesus.
Now that's what's up.

8. Went through my suitcase and saw five cans of Goombay punch (famous carbonated drink from the Bahamas). Got excited about that and let Reid (big little brother) try some. He didn't like it all that much.

9. Reid's friend from his English class came over and they worked on their ballad assignment that they were going to present the next morning. More about that later.

10. Mom and Dad have developed a taste for the TV show "All in the Family." I watched it with them and thought it was pretty funny. I realized that the people in that show are an older couple with children all grown up and out of the house. Now I kind of understand why my parents (a couple with grown kids) watch it.

11. Mom called in an order from Los Portales ( my favorite). I drove the van to pick up the food. Took my reggae CD so I could listen to it for the whole five or seven minutes it took for me to drive from the house to there and back again.

12. After the fajitas, I peeled a banana and tried to offer a bite to my dog. Poor dog. He denies his favorite food ever.
I really don't like the cover of that stuffed soccer ball.

13. After watching a few minutes of the UK game, I took a dip in the tub and went to bed. Fell asleep almost immediately.
That's what's up.

14. Woke up early because I was planning on going to Reid's English class to see his ballad presentation. Man, it felt weird walking down the halls of that high school. It seemed like I was 17 all over again.

15. I slipped in the classroom and my former English teacher greeted me. "Well, hey darlin'."
I waited for the presentation while students went over the meanings of their vocabulary words which included "ambiguous", "epigram", "hyperbole", and others. After that, Reid stood up and handed out sheets that had the lyrics to their ballad about Pokemon. Reid then explained to the class that he and his friend, Dalton, had found a "drifter" with a guitar on their way to school that morning. They brought him inside the class to help them sing their ballad.
Here's the video.



Lyrics:

Got to Catch Em All

I remember Charzard, and I remember Blastoise.
I never used Pidgey; he was just to lame for me.
I traded cards on Sunday. I went to school on Monday.
Took advantage of my friends, "Gotta catch em' all"

Dad said, "Son, you've made a life out of Pokemon and Gameboys."
Knowin' what the cards were by their holographic shine.
So if you don't mind my playin', My Pokemon need training.
Pikachu is waiting; "Gotta catch em' all."

Chorus:
You've got to know when to throw em', know when to heal em'
Know when to swap em' out, know when to run.
You've got Blue, Red, and Yellow; Ditto was made of Jello.
Ain't no time for sleeping; "Gotta catch em' all"

Every trainer knows that secret to survival,
Is knowin' who to throw away and knowin' who to keep.
'Cause Bulbasuar's a winner and Metapod's a loser,
And the best that you can hope for is to catch a freakin' Mew.

And when we finished fighting, Team Rocket went home crying.
Beat Koffing, Meowth, and Ekans, they "blasted off again."
Somewhere in the nineties, when kids still played their Gameboys.
Training ever' night and day; had to "catch em' all"

Chorus x 3






I'm so proud.

Whoa, whoa, whoa

Some of the best things that can happen to a person is when they encounter God. I had amazing things happen in my life last week when I went to a conference called SALT. It's definitely one of the highlights of this year and possibly out of my whole life. I'm not even going to attempt to make you understand completely and if you're curious, we'd have to meet up somewhere and talk about everything for a good, long while. But I do want you to know this: God wants to encounter you, transform your heart, and make you desperate for Him. That's what happened to me.

Desperation. That's sounds negative.

I experienced great desperation for Jesus and what He is passionate about and it was the most positive experience of my entire life. One evening, the speaker was sharing about desperation for the lost. I can say that I've felt sorry for people who don't know Jesus. I've even cried a little over my classmates this past semester, but there's something so powerful about being desperate. I felt pain in the back of my throat and my heart sank just thinking about humans that were living a life of Hell and are headed there for eternity.

After spilling the deepest parts of my heart to Him, I felt his peace. Honestly, the best way to describe it is like I had spent hours upon hours in a spa. My body was totally relaxed and my soul was SO FREE. A few people came up to me and spoke prophetic words that made me feel strong and encouraged. I had been waiting for this freedom to come for the longest time where I can just embrace who I am and trust God to show me how to make an impact for Heaven.

Now that I've come home, I still feel that desperation. The other day, I was sitting in the living room reading a book and I ached because I needed Jesus. Isn't that crazy? I ended up spending a good two hours alone in my room just soaking up his presence. I've never been this hungry before.

If you let God encounter you like that, that's what happens.

God + human soul= something beautiful.