August 31 – “Fire Department Proud”

I have been pretty proud of my Galveston Fire Department family the last few days.  On Wednesday most of the active station crews (including Nathan who was on duty at station four) responded to a fire out in Bay Harbor.  It was across the canal from Seasider Sam’s house, in fact.  She started texting me soon after she began smelling smoke and hearing sirens.  Jamaica Beach Volunteer Fire Department responded as well, so Lauren and some of her cohorts were on hand.  As it turned out, the house was struck by lightning.  I heard that this was the second time the same house had been struck.  Weird.  There was a problem at the scene right away, though.  The fire fighters couldn’t follow their usual procedure of fighting the fire using ladders and the ladder truck to spread water from above.  Why?  Because the continuing threat of lightning would place them in further danger.  As a result the fire spread so rapidly that the roof caved in and the house was a total loss.  All the crews did a great job, though ... as usual. 

Then last night was our annual pinning ceremony.  New hires were sworn in and “officially” received their badges.  That’s always a highlight, as the new guys get to choose who they want to be the one to pin on the badge.  I have seen moms and dads and brothers and sisters and wives and children and girlfriends and mentors and even our fire chief do the honors over the years.  Oh, and promotions were also granted.  We have a new battalion chief, two new captains, and two new engineers.  The city secretary was on hand to swear them all into their new positions. 

The Chief Wisko also acknowledged and awarded numerous commendations for service to the community and the department.  Everything from a fire fighter who performed the Heimlich Maneuver and saved his captain’s life at the firehouse when the captain was choking, to a crew that rescued a dog trapped in a canal in very cold water, to an engineer who saw and rescued a dog from underneath a burning house, to to a crew who went door to door throughout their district after a rare freeze, locating unoccupied homes with broken pipes and turning off their water at the street for them.  Pretty creative “FD Ministry Action” if you ask me.

Chief Nim Kidd was the guest speaker.  He is in charge of the state emergence response network.  That group coordinates responses by crews from all over the state to areas with a high degree of special need.  Hurricanes Ike and Harvey and the recent fires in California are examples of times that network is initiated.  In fact, if I understood correctly, our Galveston guys have been deployed no less than eight times since January.  Chief Kidd is an ex-firefighter, so he seemed to really connect with the guys as he encouraged them in their new pursuits with the department.

Chief Wisko recognized several special guests from different city departments who have been especially helpful to the department over the past year.  And of course he gave a special nod to Administrative Assistant Trish (aka, The Real Boss) for handling all the behind the scenes groundwork. 

And of course the GFD Honor Guard did their usual crisp and professional job of presenting the colors.

Like I said, this week has been yet another time for me to proud to get to serve as chaplain for these fine organizations (GFD and JBVFD). 

Psalms 96:7 says, “Ascribe to the Lord, O families of nations, ascribe to the Lord glory and strength.”

Father, thank you for these men and women who have given their lives to serving others in a frankly very dangerous way.  Keep them safe.  And walk with their families, granting them a spirit of peace and an enhanced ability at encouragement so they can support their own personal fire fighter.  Amen.

August 30 – “Move along here …”

We took Cailyn to school for the first time this year.  Mom and Dad were both working.  It wasn’t her first day, though.  Wow.  Fourth grade.  Last year in elementary school according to the Galveston system, which, by the way, I think is a little weird.  I was in elementary school until I finished sixth grade.  Then we went to junior high for seventh through ninth before heading to high school.  Not sure anybody does it that way any more. 

Now, I didn’t know that all the rules changed this year.  Seems that she doesn’t want me to walk her inside, hand-in-hand, skipping merrily.  Can you believe that?  Well, she really didn’t like me doing that last year, either.  Or the year before.  Come to think of it, she was probably in kindergarten the last time that particular action struck a positive chord.  Not that I haven’t given it a good go every year …

So … the new rules.  No longer are we to park and walk with her to the front door, get a sweet hug and a quick “I love you.”  Oh, no.  Now we have to take her via the drive-through lanes.  Oh, believe me, I did offer to leap out of the car and skip in with her from the car lane, since Chris was driving and all.  Chris even offered to pull over and park so we could both go in.  Horrified however, Cailyn hurriedly fumbled her way out of the back door.  But then she came back to my window and asked me to roll it down.  I thought, “Oh, how sweet.  I’m getting a hug after all.  Nope.  “DadDad, will you text Mommy and tell her I got here?  I forgot to.  Love you.  Bye.”  I assured her back that her request would be adequately and quickly handled.  And then I tossed out one last attempt, “Are you sure you don’t want me to come inside with you?”  Chris added, “We haven’t met your new teacher yet, you know.”  Cailyn simply ran ahead, and with a wave of her hand like the old timer crossing guard, she cried out, “Move along here, just move along.”  How old is this girl, anyway?

Psalms 96:4-6 says, “For great is the Lord and most worthy of praise; he is to be feared above all gods.  For all the gods of the nations are idols, but the Lord made the heavens.   Splendor and majesty are before him; strength and glory are in his sanctuary.”

Father, thank you for that growing girl.  Maybe a little too fast growing, don’t you think?  Amen.

August 29 – “A Romantic Rainfall”

Ah.  Romance.  Ain’t it a marvelous thing?  Chris and I experienced a special romantic moment yesterday.  We were out on our morning walk, minding our own business, enjoying the cool breeze when what should happen?  A sudden downpour.  Rain from nowhere (Well, of course it was from the clouds, I know that.  But don’t ruin the poetic platitudes of my story).  The perfect setting for one of those old AMC movies.  A romantic walk in the rain.  Feeling just wonderful yet? 

Well, I forgot to add one tiny detail.  See, we were taking our walk, but at the time of the rain we kinda sorta just weren’t together.  I only walk two and a half miles.  Chris goes five.  We had already split our tracks when the moisture began. 

So when the rain began to fall, Chris raced for cover on one street and texted me a romantic, “Hey, it’s raining and I am hiding.”  I replied with naught but the truth, a very eloquent, “Not me.  I’m wet.”  Now what follows was my stab at recovering the potential romance of this awkward scenario.  I added, “Oh.  And I’m home.  Want me to come get you?”  See how I did that there?  An offer to be her knight in shining armor.  Pretty good, huh?  Oh, want to know how she responded?  In her very best damsel in distress texting voice she answered, “No.” 

Sigh.  But I did get out a towel for her when she finally made it home.  That counts for something, right?

Psalms 96:2-3 says, “Sing to the Lord, praise his name; proclaim his salvation day after day.  Declare his glory among the nations, his marvelous deeds among all peoples.”

Father, thank you for that rain.  It was certainly much needed.  And I have to admit … it was fun to walk in it.  Amen.

August 28 – “Working vs. Wacky”

I actually have ten things already checked off on my to-do list for the week.  Yes, I keep a rather extensive to-do list.  Otherwise how will I know if I have done anything at the end of the week?  It also helps me stay focused.  Well, as focused as I can when there might be a squirrel racing past the window at any moment.  Or a hummingbird to gaze at in the back yard.  Or something I forgot to include on the list that just has to be done right now (Usually in this case I just add it to the bottom of the list).  Or Chris is awake and it’s time to go for our walk.  Or …

Did I mention that the “add it to the bottom of the list” approach means even though I have crossed out ten things, I still have fourteen to go (and no doubt counting).  Which leads to another difficulty that arises when dealing with to-do lists.  I call it the “stare into nothingness trance.”  Nope.  Not some new kind of yoga meditation (I don’t even know the old kind of yoga).  I mean it just as it sounds.  Sometimes I come to myself and realize that I am staring at the list - and have been for who knows how long – with no idea of what I am seeing (Just so you know … I just added something to the list.  It’s up to fifteen now).  Of course more often the staring is directed at the computer screen where I have no idea what to write next.  Kind of like today when I began this entry …

Well, maybe something exciting will happen today that will allow me to write about an actual event.  Or maybe a person.  Or a feeling (Those always go over well).  Yesterday, however, proved to be one of those “take a walk with Chris, work at the computer until I can’t keep my eyes open, stand up, eat, do more work, watch the Astros, then go to bed” kind of days.  Well … let’s get this one started …

Psalms 96:1 says, “Sing to the Lord a new song; sing to the Lord, all the earth.”

Father, thank you for working days as well as wacky ones.  Gotta have both, I suppose, but just so you know (which I know you do), I really prefer the wacky ones.  Amen.

August 27 – “T-I-Double Guh-Er”

Yet another good day at church yesterday.  Lots of kids.  Even one that kept escaping from the nursery.  The little two-year-old guy is cute as a button, but absolutely cannot stay still for very long.  Reminds me of someone from long ago … me, maybe?  I’ve been praying for God to call someone out to work with all the kiddos we have coming now.  Chris certainly has her hands full now. 

Last night we had a real treat.  We went to the movies.  Yep.  Haven’t done that in a long, long time.  We have developed kind of a routine when it comes to movies.  I start out by casually mentioning that I want to see them when they first come out in theaters.  Ultimately, we wait until they come out in DVD form.  Then I start hinting that I plan to buy to buy them.  Chris does her best to find reason after reason why we shouldn’t.  “It’s too close to Christmas or your birthday.”  “Are you sure you want to see that one?”  I make every excuse to walk past the movie section in WalMart and look longingly at the shelves.  Sometimes I even pick one up, just to check out the information on back.  And sometimes it will mysteriously find its way into our cart when neither of us is looking (I close my eyes).  And if I ever make a WalMart on my own?  Done and done.

So last night we went to the movies.  Christopher Robin.  Now, I never did the Winnie the Pooh thing when I was a kid.  Too busy reading about Joe DiMaggio and Billy Sunday and Babe Ruth and listening on the radio to the exploits of such greats as Bob Aspromonte and Sandy Koufax and Brooks Robinson.  But I was introduced to the world of the 100 Acre Wood as a senior in high school.  The drama department elected to put on the play, The House at Pooh Corner.  And I won the part of … T-I-Double Guh-Er.”  Yup.  Good ol’ Tigger.  Awesomely bouncy, Tiggers-can-do-anything Tigger.  That’s me.  Defined my entire life direction until Jesus exploded into my life.  Not that my Tigger persona ever completely left …

Now the movie itself … don’t worry.  No spoiler alerts here.  I want you to go see it for yourself.  Or wait until it comes out on video.  Then sneak over to WalMart and let it jump secretly into your basket as you walk by.  The setting of the movie has Christopher Robin as a grown-up, engrossed in the troubles at work and dangerously close to losing his family.  Kind of like when Robin Williams was Peter Pan.  And then a jar of honey accidentally falls off the table and crashes to the floor …  That’s it.  All you’re getting from me.  Suffice it to say that I thoroughly enjoyed this one.  When I told Chris that I loved it, she replied, “I know.”  Guess she heard me laughing at all the funny parts and agreeing with all the Pooh-ish wisdom. 

And the thing is, I still enjoyed the movie in spite of the loud explosions of baby crying and small child escaping.  Remember the mention of the two-year-old at church?  His twin was at the movies with us.  So were his Mom and older brother and baby sibling.  This youngster was rambunctious to say the least.  After a bout with screaming and wailing that we thought was the baby, but now I’m pretty sure it was little Wreck-It-Ralph, Mom finally took him to the back briefly.  Then I guess she gave up and settled in to watch the movie.  At that point the youngster began running all over the theater, followed closely behind by older brother.  Way better, and more entertaining than allowing him to let loose with that piercing scream.  At one point I glanced over and he was at my side.  He pointed to the rear of the theater.  I grinned at him and pointed in the direction of his Mom and told him he needed to find his way back to her.  He laughed and skipped merrily away – to the back of the theater, of course.  Later he completely won my heart.  He appeared once again at my side, this time hauling one of those massive tubs of popcorn that they sell for an arm and a leg.  He grinned that mischievous grin at me and then held out his hand.  In it was a friendship offering - a single kernel of his precious popcorn.  Gotta love the heart of a little kid. 

So … go see the movie, especially if you grew up with Winnie the Pooh and his friends.  I don’t think you’ll get to experience the frivolities of a two-year-old (unless you bring one with you, in which case you won’t get to see much of the cinematic magic), but the movie should hold your attention, nonetheless.

Psalms 95:6-7 says, “Come, let us bow down in worship, let us kneel before the Lord our Maker; for he is our God and we are the people of his pasture, the flock under his care.”

Father, bless that little guy who offered me popcorn.  Walk with him as he grows old enough to experience you for himself.  Amen.

August 26 – “The Bubble-Less One”

I had one of those very strange dreams last night.  You know.  The kind where it is just getting interesting and you suddenly wake up?  This one was like that, so I kind of filled in some blanks.  Let me know what you think …

I dreamed I went to heaven (No, this not the song).  I don’t recall whether there were Pearly Gates or if the streets were made of gold or if I saw my Mom and Dad.  Maybe because I was there as a visitor?  What I do remember was being encased in a sort of a transparent bubble.  Lots of people were there, and we were all in those bubbles.  For some reason I just knew, the bubbles were for our protection.  See, if we were to enter the presence of God without our bubble insulation, we would be instantly and forever in a state of extreme pain and death, always dying and never dead. 

The lot of us seemed to be simply wandering about, waiting.  At first we had no idea what - or who - we were waiting for.  No one spoke.  There was no sense of excitement to our anticipation, but I didn’t sense any particular foreboding or dread either.  In fact, there wasn’t even a feeling of confusion.  We were simply where we were supposed to be.

And then we all heard a noise, soft at first, then louder, then much louder, then almost deafening.  It was as if every car alarm on earth had gone off at once and the brass section of every band in every country was suddenly called upon to jam at its loudest.  Our attention was drawn to the sound from the very first note, for it hit me that up until then everything had been utterly and completely quiet.  By the time the noise reached its peak, we were captured by its … its … beauty.  Beauty.  That is such a sensual word.  I mean that it calls upon the senses.  And in this case we not only heard the sound, but we saw it – a blinding flash of light at first, then an array of wonderful colors like what I suspect the Aurora Borealis must be like (Never seen it, so it is my “ultimate go-to” for sheer color beauty).  And we smelled it, with the smell bleeding over into our taste buds – like the most amazing … well, fill in the blank here with whatever is your absolute favorite dish of all time (maybe fried shrimp from Shrimp and Stuff or a cherry limeade slush from Sonic).  And we could even feel the sound, pulsing through our very souls, drawing us toward not the sound itself, but the source of it. 

And then that source was revealed.  Far in the distance we not so much saw as just knew that the presence of God was with us.  And now the sense of awe was overwhelming.  All of us fell to our knees, some to our faces.  We desperately wanted to look up, yet feared what might happen if we did.  As the sound diminished and gradually drifted away leaving that eerie silence, we began to peek out from or lowly perches, sensing that it was … well … time.  One by one we looked up, pulled ourselves to our knees, then to our feet.  Cautiously we looked about, wondering what would come next. 

(Now I almost was tempted to just stop here and say, “That’s it.  I woke up.”  But I would never do that to you).

I for one full expected to see God himself, in all his glory, seated on his throne and shining with an awe-ful blaze around his entire being.  But I did not.  I saw nothing unusual at first.  Just many others like me, looking about from our bubbles, now a bit confused, but a lot in anticipation.  Something was certainly about to happen.  And that’s when I saw it.  Well, heard it at first.  Not far from where I stood a cry pierced the silence.  A cry of pain?  Another.  A cry of exultation?  It was hard to tell them apart.  I yearned to move in their direction, but sensed a hush in my spirit that said, “Wait.” 

Gradually the cries came closer.  And soon I could see what was happening.  A lone figure was walking among us, bubble-less.  He approached each person, one at a time, appeared to say something, then slowly reached out his hand and touched the bubble.  In some cases it burst and covered the one inside with a shower or pain and anguish and regret and guilt, and that one slowly, painfully disappeared from sight, as if consigned to … somewhere else.  But there were others.  And what happened to those others made it impossible for me to tear my eyes away, for I hoped with all my being that the next bubble would not be the next explosion of pain, but instead would be … like that. 

See, in the other cases, the Bubble-less One would speak and reach out his hand.  And the one inside would reach out as well.  And as the fingers of the two met, the bubble did indeed burst, but this time in an explosion of joy and peace and love.  The two always hugged briefly before the Bubble-less One continued his mission.  In my heart I knew there was nothing I would rather experience than that simple touch, than that simple hug.

And then he stood outside my own bubble, gazing into my eyes.  I saw his hand reaching out.  I felt my own reach out as well.  I cannot describe the intervening feelings.  A bit of fear.  Well, more than a bit.  What if my bubble’s explosion was the painful kind?  A bit of yearning.  I had to know.  It was time to know.  A bit of … what was that last feeling?  Ah … hope.  That’s the one.  And that’s the one I grasped with all my being.  I felt my eyes close tightly in anticipation of the touch of the Bubble-less One.  And then I heard his voice.  “Not yet.”  My eyes opened to see his face, only his face.  His eyes, in fact.  They were … no words here.  They were simply the eyes of the Bubble-less One.  And they were looking at me.  And … they loved me.

OK.  Now can I say I woke up?  Pretty powerful stuff to wake up to on a Sunday morning, huh?  I have to say before I go … That is the voice I want to hear.  Those are the eyes I want to see.  That is the hand I want to touch.  How about you?

Revelation 21:4 says, “And he will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain. 

Father, you are the Bubble-less One.  Thank you for the time you have given me and those around me to discover you here so that we can meet you through our bubble there.  Amen.

August 25 – “Seri-ociously hot”

After two days off for our quick little jaunt to Arlington and Waco, we were back to the early morning walk.  Two miles again for me.  Five for Chris.  And my knee, although it did pretty well during the trek, was swollen and barking for the rest of the day.  Just not used to the old grind yet, I guess.  Of course it probably didn’t help that I spent an hour or so after the walk out in the yard pulling up stickerburs.  Sadly, that’s the only way to effectively eradicate the evil interlopers of lawns.  And did I mention that it was seri-ociously hot?  That would be somewhere between serious and ferocious.  Heat index well over 100.  Ah.  I love living on a tropical island paradise.

After we recovered a bit from our outdoor sauna experience, we made our way to WalMart and Randall’s.  We were looking for some air conditioner filters at WalMart.  And of course they had every size except the one we needed.  Oh, well.  At least it wasn’t a crisis purchase as yet.  Now that doesn’t mean some objects didn’t mysteriously find their way into our basket.  And I did have to renew my fishing license, which by the way was a lot cheaper now that I am officially old.  And I even included the fresh water version this time so I can be all legal when we go fishing with Zak up in Waco. 

We also made a quick run over to Randall’s to pick up some stamps.  It is so much better to be able to get them there instead of going to the Post Office.  It’s not all that far, but top get there one has to get on 61^st Street and go even farther east.  The barrier is real.  While waiting in line we saw something I personally don’t ever remember seeing (Which doesn’t really mean I haven’t seen it before.  I just don’t remember.  Big difference.  Something about non-essential information cluttering up what little usable brain space I have available to me).  Three different people were there to cash in winning lottery tickets.  I didn’t see how much two of them won, but the other guy walked away with sixty dollars.  And the burning question in both of our minds after that experience?  I wonder how much he had to spend to get that $60?  Not worth the waste to me.  After all, we have a cruise to save for.

Psalms 95:4-5 says, “In his hand are the depths of the earth, and the mountain peaks belong to him.  The sea is his, for he made it, and his hands formed the dry land.”

Father, please keep people safe in this unbelievable heat.  I’m especially concerned about the firefighters when they have to don their turnout gear.  Amen.

August 24 – “Traffic, Trucks, and a Tiny VFD”

And finally we headed back home.  One of our fastest quick trips ever was at its conclusion, and we both commented that we were exhausted and hadn’t really done much of anything.  And of course, the trip home from Waco included the longest first leg ever.  The traffic was horrendous in places we had never seen traffic before. At one point a train stopped traffic. 

And there were trucks.  Big trucks.  They all decided to use this particular road at this particular time.   And it was not a good decision for some of them.  We saw one truck on the side of the road whose load had shifted dangerously.  In another side-of-the-road scene a truck was stopped with every door on his trailer opened.  Not sure what had been inside, but I guess they all escaped. 

The worst jam, however, came just outside of Nowhere.  An 18-wheeler was on the side of the road and police were directing traffic around it.  As we inched our way past, praying that no one had been hurt, we saw that the entire cab had burned completely to the ground.  Never saw that before.  The tiny little brush truck from the nearest volunteer fire department was cleaning up and rolling up its hose.  Kudos to that crew, too.  From what we could see, the trailer had no damage at all.  Nice job. 

Psalms 95:3 says, “For the Lord is the great God, the great King above all gods.”

Father, thank you for the work of those guys on that truck fire.  Amen. 

August 23 – “The Surprise”

We took a bit of a different route out of Arlington this time.  Can’t get too set in our ways, you know.  I was looking forward to seeing the guts of some tiny towns or something.  The route seemed a lot quicker, but sadly, it was actually kind of boring.  We did get to see the sign pointing to Maypearl, Texas, though.  That was a highlight.  Maybe next time we can actually go to Maypearl.  We’ll have to put it on the list.

By the way, the temperature in Waco when we arrived?  106 degrees.  That would be … hot.

The kids were playing in the back yard when we arrived.  In the mud.  Not just water play, mind you.  Zak was being the drill sergeant and when we peeked around the corner he had Caleb flat on his back in a mud pit.  Now they didn’t know we were coming, so we stayed very quiet, just watching.  Luke was the first to spot us.  He grinned really big, but didn’t say a word.  Caleb was next.  Zak had moved to the tree swing and was preparing to push off with his back to us.  Caleb made eye contact and cried, “Look, it’s Nani and DadDad.”  Zak didn’t believe him.  “You’re just trying to get me to turn around so you can throw mud at my head.”  Sound reasoning, if you ask me.  Zak did finally see us, on the backswing after his takeoff, and screamed in utter terror.  Well, maybe it was more like pleasant surprise.  By that time Christi had grown a little more curious.  So we moved into her line of sight, and she exclaimed in surprise as well.  AnnaGrace just smiled prettily and waved.  Great surprise.  And then Josh surprised the family by coming home for lunch.  Great day all around.

We hung out with the kids for the afternoon, then joined them at church supper.  It was a classic rendition of that timeless favorite we all used to dread at the school cafeteria: beef tips and gravy over a bed of rice.  As beef tips go, these weren’t bad.  The servers couldn’t get Josh to eat any of the accompanying vegetables, though.  Then they were emboldened when they found out that his mother was behind him in the line.  Pastor Josh will no doubt be further “encouraged” to “EAT YOUR VEGETABLES” from this point on. 

After all the meetings were concluded, I took Caleb and Luke back to the house while the girls went to pick up Zak at the youth event at the park.  Caleb read yet another book about the Alamo to fine-tune his vast array of Texas history knowledge.  Luke, meanwhile, waxed creative in his approach to daredevil-dom.  He morphed into a veritable Evel Ke-Luke-el.  He leapt from one of those plastic playground slides onto a pile of pillows.  When that failed to satisfy his danger-lust, I pushed him in his little riding train.  Fast.  And he crashed into furniture and fell dramatically in a heap.  And then he had the idea of the day.  Why not take the train to the top of the slide and ride it down into the pillows?  Why not, indeed?  He struggled to get everything into place.  He carefully climbed onto the peak with his vehicle, and worked his leg around so he was sitting.   For several long moments, (merely for dramatic effect, mind you, for Luke fears nothing) he stared at the bottom, so far, far away.  Finally, his feet engaged.  He leaned forward.  And the train car pummeled to the depths.  The crash threw him from his comfortable perch.  He flailed about for a few brief moments.  And then all was quiet.  Until he rose to his feet triumphantly, arms above his head in a victorious celebration.  And then?  He did it again.  And again.  And again.  And then? 

Well, that feat became too tame for the master.  He decided to ride the train off the peak in the other direction.  Away from the safety net of pillows.  All sorts of Mommy warning screams were going off in my head, but I managed to fight them back, giving full reign to my Daddy/Uncle/DadDad genes.  “Go for it, Luke.  You can do it.”  Not that I said those words out loud (At least I don’t think I did.  Well, maybe I did mutter them.  OK, so I did do a bit of encouraging).  So did he take the plunge?  Did he back out at the last instant?  Was his body mangled beyond all hope of repair?  Well … of course he took the plunge.  His name is Vaughan.  He crashed onto the carpet, bounced a few times, stayed very still to make sure he was still breathing, then celebrated his latest achievement.  So did his adoring fan (Caleb was still reading.  Once he gets to the Alamo he is concentration personified).  All was well on the daredevil front.  But for some reason he never repeated that particular stunt.  I guess when you’ve accomplished the impossible there is no need to do it again …

Psalms 95:1-2 says, “Come, let us sing for joy to the Lord; let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation.  Let us come before him with thanksgiving and extol him with music and song.”

Father, thank you for the chance to surprise our Waco bunch.  Amen.

August 22 – “Best Voicemail Ever”

I started my day with a slice of homemade bread made by our esteemed neighbors, the Geran’s.  Not just any homemade bread.  Pistachio bread.  Not just any pistachio bread, either.  Green pistachio bread.  With a little butter (OK.  A lot of butter) and sugar and cinnamon on top … Good stuff.  Oh, and then we walked.  Necessary move.

When we got back I received the best voicemail ever.  I didn’t recognize the number, so I followed proper procedure and let it go to voicemail.  When I called it up, what I heard was 21 seconds of the most passionate verbage I have heard in a long time … speaking to me (Can you believe my good luck?) … in Chinese … or maybe Japanese … or it could have been Korean.  I have no idea what she was saying, but she truly believed in it.  It was enough to drive the “Transcribing Voicemail” function totally insane.  It attempted to transliterate numerous times, but finally gave up.  “Unable to transcribe this message.”  Yeah.  Me neither.

We got on the road around 10:30.  That put us at the Madisonville Buc-ees at lunch time.  With great fear and trepidation we decided to stop.  Last time we were there, we became trapped in an ocean of weekend travelers.  Note to others on journeys: Not nearly as crowded on Tuesdays at lunch.  Now, their chicken salad wrap was not as good as the ones at the Buc-ees on the way to Waco.  This one was a lettuce sandwich in many places.  Met our hunger need, however, and we were off.

Now our reason for heading north into Texas this time was to attend a preliminary meeting about our planned cruise and land tour trip to Alaska next summer.  Actually I was there to win a door prize.  See, there are three of us couples going together.  The Spray’s went to a different meeting on Sunday afternoon, and they won a door prize.  We couldn’t let them do that without an answer.  After the meeting they called out the first prize – an Alaska hat.  Nope.  Next they called out $25 off your tour cost.  Cary and KayLynn Winkle.  Success.  No bragging rights for the Spray’s now.  The hostess put all the cards down for a moment to tell a story, and must have forgotten where she was.  She pulled out another card from the deck and announced the winner of another $25 off the tour package.  Chris and Kelley Vaughan.  Well how about that?  We may or may not have called the Spray's on the way home to "share the news of our good fortune."  Three random couples choose to go on a trip together and all three of us win a door prize?  Guess this means things are boding well for our excursion …

Psalms 93:4 says, “Mightier than the thunder of the great waters, mightier than the breakers of the sea — the Lord on high is mighty.”

Father, thank you for the little bit of help toward our trip costs.  It’s not much, but we can use all the help we can get.  Amen.

August 21 – “Perennial photo shoot”

Well, most of my day was spent slaving over a hot … computer.  Not that the computer was such an amazing instrument.  I was just typing all day, so it got hot.  Just hot.  Why such fervor related to that instrument of attachment to exertion?  I was determined to get as much of the groundwork for Sunday’s sermon completed as I possibly could.  We are leaving here shortly for a meeting in Arlington (Yep.  Another mini-road trip), and I wanted to be able to focus completely on my nap on the way up there.  Not that I always take naps on our road trip, mind you.  This is just in case. 

Cailyn did come over for a while.  That meant a wonderful lunch at that iconic establishment, Whataburger.  Well, let me change that a bit.  A lunch from Whataburger would be more precise.  The girls stayed here at the house while I went and picked it up.  See, Cailyn was too engrossed in breaking in Chris’ new camera.  It was like one perennial photo shoot around here.  She took pictures of me working, of Chris reading the camera owner’s manual, of Freddy sleeping, of herself, of the neighbor’s house (Sorry, Corey and Janell).  It was as if she was trying to determine just how many pictures this camera card will hold.  As far as I know she never ran out. 

We ended the day (and my now-feeble attempts to put finishing touches on the sermon) out at the softball field.  Cailyn had practice for Fall Ball.  Her Dad came up from the fire station (It’s right down the road) to watch, and April arrived just as they were finishing to pick her up.  That meant we had the rest of the evening to have some supper and crash on the couch and watch the Astros.  Except they are playing on the West Coast and didn’t start until 9 p.m.  Chris went to bed at 10.  I lasted until 10:30.  Just couldn’t keep my eyes open.  As it turned out, I saw all the Astros scoring.  As it turned out, it wasn’t enough.  They lost 7-4.  Ouch. 

Psalms 93:1 says, “The Lord reigns, he is robed in majesty; the Lord is robed in majesty and is armed with strength.”

Father, would you join us on the road today?  Thanks.  Amen.

August 20 – “Great White”

Another packed house at Seaside yesterday.  I think Chris said she counted 78.  The American Heritage Girls group that was staying in the retreat center joined us for worship.  Good group of kids.  And another guy was taking a picture of the Visual Verse.  Something about sending it to his friend, a Harvard professor who wanted to see it.  Hate to think I’m getting graded on those things now.

Last night we went for supper to the home of a young couple who has been coming to Seaside over the last year or so.  Great fresh fish supper.  It was his first time cooking fish.  He had it seasoned and topped with lemon slices.  It even looked good.  He just wasn’t sure how to tell when it was done.  Between Chris and me, we coached him through it, though, and the meal was delicious.  They had a boatload of questions about my favorite topic – the church in general and how Seaside began.  The discussion also morphed into numerous other rabbit-chasings as well.  We even dealt with ghosts and demons and spiritual warfare.  I really enjoyed the evening.

Now I have to back up a bit to the afternoon.  Before the Astros game came on and before Kel and Christina and their kiddos came over to hang and pick up the truck for Kel to use again, I somehow managed to stumble across yet another classic movie.  It was called Sharknado 3.  I only got to see maybe five minutes of it, though.  Doesn’t mean I didn’t pick up the plot line rather quickly.  Tornadoes all over the earth were full of sharks, and as the tornado touched down, the sharks would feed on people.  Sometimes explosions worked.  In one scene reminiscent of a classic Monty Python and the Holy Grail interchange, a guy was trying to make it to “The Red Button” that would blow up the ship, but destroy the tornado.  He had an injured leg, so he was crawling across the deck of the ship.  A shark fell from the sky and bit off his other leg.  He kept crawling.  Another shark fell and bit off an arm.  He kept crawling.  Just as he reached for the button with his only remaining appendage, another shark relieved him of that one as well.  Not to be deterred, he inched himself a few centimeters ahead and managed to punch the button with his nose.  Boom.  Mission accomplished.  OK, that was apparently the first hour and twenty-five minutes of the movie.  They part I got to see was the ending, so Spoiler Alert, y’all …

To stop the shark-laden tornadoes, the space shuttle was launched with a special laser attachment.  They shot that laser from space, and it dissipated all the earthly tornadoes.  Yeah.  But suddenly sharks were flying up into space.  They started getting into the shuttle.  One of them, a particularly tough-skinned great white, swallowed a pregnant lady astronaut (She wasn’t showing yet, but they did mention the upcoming event.  See, one of the other astronaut’s was the baby’s grandfather, and he gave the unborn child a gift of airman’s wings so he could always fly.  Sniff.  Sniff.  Sob.  That was right before he sacrificed himself so he could be a hero to his son).  Her husband just happened to be on the flight as well, so he jumped into the Great White’s mouth to rescue her.  But alas, the shuttle had not been designed to take the force of hundreds of sharks pounding against it.  The best line of the movie came when one of eth astronauts asked another, “How can sharks be alive in space?”  And the classic answer: “How can they be alive in a tornado?”  Indeed. 

So … not to worry.  The guy and his wife went through re-entry into the atmosphere inside the Great White.  Once clear and back inside breathable space, he punched a hole in the side of the now thoroughly irradiated shark and deployed the parachute he just happened to have with him.  Good ol’ Great White plopped down on the shore of a random tropical island amidst a hail of other sharks of all species.  The man crawled out through Great White’s mouth.  After walking around aimlessly on the beach, avoiding the shower of sharks around him, he remembers something.  He races back to the original Great White, and hears a sound.  Could it be?  It is.  The blade of a chain saw pokes a hole in the fish’s side.  And what should squeeze its way out?  Not what you’d expect, I bet.  No.  See, a lot has happened inside that shark’s belly on the way down from space.  Not only had the lady found a random operable chain saw and used it to cut a hole, she had come to full term and delivered the baby.  It was the baby she pushed through the hole first.  Looked just like the shark was giving birth to a human baby.  Her husband managed to free her as well, though.  There she was, fully clothed and just as slim and trim as she had been when she first entered the shark, albeit covered in blood.  But wait.  Suddenly, who should run up from behind the trees?  It was there other two children who just happened to on the same random island where mom and dad fell from the sky.  What an incredibly happy ending.  And as they all planned to live happily ever after there on the tropical island paradise, a huge hunk of the space shuttle came hurtling out of the sky.  Fell right on top of the wife and squished her like a bug.  Now the movie ended.  Wow.  Takes your breath away, doesn’t it?

Psalms 92:12 says, “The Lord reigns, he is robed in majesty; the Lord is robed in majesty and is armed with strength.”

Father, thank you for our new Seaside friends.  Help them to be happy and successful in their quest for community.  Amen.

August 19 – “Bambi???!!”

We were forced to do the unthinkable yesterday.  We drove into Texas on a Saturday.  We had to go to Sam’s and Lifeway Christian Store to pick up supplies for the church.  The Sam’s stuff we needed for dinner on the grounds today (So come on out to church and get some free food). 

The trip up there was rather uneventful.  Traffic heading into Galveston was rather frightening as usual, but traffic on the north-bound side was not bad at all.  We made our way to Lifeway first, then stopped at Five Guys for one of their signature burgers.  We ordered the kids-sized bacon cheeseburger.  Way plenty for us, and they pile on the fries, even when you just order a small batch.  Good stuff.

It was the trip to Sams that brought the unusual spotting.  There on the side of the road on a random part of the feeder road next to Interstate 45 … was Bambi.  Yep.  A tiny, little, real-life fawn, spots and all, had somehow wandered out next to the road.  No one (or no other deer) was anywhere around it.  I can honestly say, in all my 65 years of wandering between the Island and multiple spots up in Texas, I have never seen a deer on the feeder street of the freeway in that particular stretch known as the Gulf Freeway.  Amazing.  Hope ol’ Bambi made it back to the woods.

Our neighbors the Gerans stopped by in the afternoon.  They were sharing a concoction they had baked together as a family activity … pistachio bread.  Janell suggested adding butter and sugar and cinnamon on top.  I did.  It tasted a lot like Chris’ Friendship Bread she makes for Christmas, except with crunchy parts (aka pistachios, I suppose).  More good stuff.

Chris decided our grass desperately needed a drink of water, so she spent a good deal of time outside.  I in turn made better use of my Saturday afternoon, switching back and forth between the shark attack that was the Astros losing to the Athletics and another actual shark movie classic.  This one was called Three-headed Shark Attack.  Frightening beast, that 3-headed shark.  See, he was angry about so much pollution in the ocean, so he swam around eating beer cans and the people who drank them (Spoiler Alert) until he was lured into a part of the ocean containing a massive trash accumulation.  By this time his middle head had morphed into three or five more heads.  None of the heads seemed to get along with each other, and when they got into all the trash, they went into a feeding frenzy.  They ate and ate until they ate themselves to death.  I think.  That was the big plan, anyway.  They might have just bitten of a few heads and subsequently bled to death.  Just not sure.  Guess that’s what makes it such a classic.  Always another mystery to ponder.  Hmm.  Speaking of mysteries … could there possibly be some kind of social statement deftly hidden in there somewhere?  Like, maybe … Don’t pollute the ocean; you might be killing an eight-headed shark …

Psalms 92:5 says, “How great are your works, O Lord, how profound your thoughts!”

Father, watch over that little four-legged creature of yours we saw yesterday.  Amen.