February 14 – “Hallmark-induced holiday syndrome?”

Well I woke up early this morning, even for me.  Five fifteen and I was wide awake.  I tried to doze off again, but it just wasn’t happening.  I’m fairly certain that urge to doze will overwhelm me come about 9:30 or 10:00, but in the meantime, I gave up and got up.  I actually had to get Chris’s Valentine ready anyway.  I already got her something incredibly romantic, of course.  It has been in its hiding place for a week or so now.  I had to retrieve that (No, I can’t say what it is until she has opened it) and then work on the homemade card.  See, I don’t succumb to the Hallmark-induced holiday syndrome of having to buy a card, even though it is nice to have that as an option.  But I enjoy making my own.  Well, at least for Chris.  She doesn’t usually laugh at me for too long.  In fact she sometimes even really likes them.  Not sure about today’s, though.  It’s a visual verse style pictogram thing.  We’ll see when she wakes up.  Yep, part of my gift … let her sleep.

Speaking of Valentine’s Day, I have to spend the day getting things ready for the Ash Wednesday service at church tonight.  And we have to make a Sam’s run.  And deliver the stuff to church.  And we are thinking about slapping a quick paint job on the bare frame portion of the car.  And pick up some medications at Randall’s.  And go to the bank.  At least somewhere in there I get to burn stuff.  Gotta get those ashes from somewhere, right?

Why the frenzy of activity?  We leave tomorrow for Waco.  Zak is getting baptized on Sunday.  Can’t miss that major milestone.  Rumor has it that we may also try to do another sneak and run mini-vacation.  Details to be announced … on the fly, of course.  Perhaps we’ll head west this time …

Psalms 33:8-9 says, “Let all the earth fear the Lord; let all the people of the world revere him.  For he spoke, and it came to be; he commanded, and it stood firm.”

Father, thank you for my beautiful valentine.  Sure do love her.  Amen.

February 13 – “Passing on the pizza”

I think I might have mentioned yesterday that Chris and I went to hear the group Salty Sounds at a local Galveston tavern.  Other than the music, which was outstanding I might add, we had heard that they serve a good pizza.  And they make them in a wood-burning brick oven.  Unique.  Well, why not?  We had been downtown since around 2:30 for the parade anyway, and the hot chocolate from MOD’s didn’t last long as an energy source.  So I made my way over to make us an order. 

Little did I know that taverns, apparently, can create their own signature pizzas that have no regard whatsoever for traditional ingredients.  Nowhere on their little menu paper was there mention of pepperoni or hamburger.  I did see the word sausage, though, but other than that I wasn’t completely sure what was on any of them.  We finally settled on one, cut the jalapenos, that appeared to be a meat-lovers of some kind.  Sounded safe. 

We settled in to listen to music and watch the Olympics on one of the big screen TV’s.  I guess that’s what you do at taverns.  Except during baseball season I would hope the Astros game is on.  Oh, and it was obvious they wanted people to drink.  A lot.  So we obliged them.  Jim’s wife Charlette got us both refills on our Dr Peppers. 

Finally the pizza arrived.  At least I think it was pizza.  It was served on a round tin plate, so I guess that was a clue.  The pizza itself, however was nowhere near round.  Kind of a blob-ish, amoeba-shaped flat piece of dough.  Very thin.  Like, as thick as a dime, maybe?  There were some pepperonis scattered on top, along with what was supposed to be that afore-mentioned sausage.  The cheese was there.  Several colors of cheese, but hey, you can’t go wrong with cheese, right?  It had even been cut into … well, hunks.  Uneven portions of blob-ness.  I was plenty hungry, though, so I grabbed the first section and bit in.  Now, I can’t say the taste was particularly bad.  I did mention the cheese, didn’t I?  It’s just that there was not really much taste to it at all.  The sausage was more like fill dirt.  The pepperoni was fine.  The dough, if this is possible, was extremely dough-y for something so thin. 

Now, this was my first wood-burning stone-oven pizza.  I was expecting a lot.  But if this is the end result every time … I’ll pass in the future.  Kind of like if someone who is not a believer sees someone who claims to be a believer engaging in some particularly noticeable sin.  Colors his whole perspective of what Christianity is.  At the very least, it makes it easier for him to “pass in the future.”   If you’re not going to act like a Christian, don’t claim to be one.  You’ll just confuse people. 

Psalms 33:6 says, “By the word of the Lord were the heavens made, their starry host by the breath of his mouth.”

Father, help me to be an effective wood-burning, stone-oven Christian.  I don’t want to confuse people.  Amen.

February 12 – “Hips and hamstrings”

Well, aren’t we the celebratory ones?  We did something yesterday we haven’t done in years.  We went to one of the Mardi Gras parades.  Yep.  We braved both the elements and the traffic to be a part of the insane practice of tossing beads at a waiting crowd of revelers.  Did you catch the way I said that?  We didn’t just go to watch the parade.  Oh, no.  We actually joined in.  See, we had two different connections.  For one thing, it was the fire fighters’ children’s parade that we attended.  Didn’t get there in time to see the pet parade just before this one, but we did see a lot of the pets still roaming around in their outfits.  But I had to support my fire fighter guys.  The union fire truck was leading the way.  There was even a truck from Fort Bend County fire department.  Several of our fire fighters drove their infamous scooters through the route. 

And then there was the fact that the Galveston Lassie League softball organization had a float in the mix.  And Cailyn plays softball.  And April is actually on the Lassie League board.  We ended up walking the entire parade alongside their float.  It was actually a lot of fun.  We tossed a few beads, and even walked over and handed a few to those Moms we saw holding little ones who were having a difficult time fighting for the worthless baubles.  We were surprised that we didn’t see anyone we knew screaming in the crowds.  Guess everyone we knew who would come to this parade was already in it.  By the walking app on our phones, it appears we walked around two miles.  Felt like it to me.  I was pretty sore.  But we weren’t done yet.

As everyone else drove away to their homes and after-parties, we turned on our sore heels and headed back into the fray.  But here’s the thing … the fray was gone.  There were hardly any people left.  Oh, the food trucks were still there all right.  And there were some stragglers.  But for the most part, Mardi Gras is over.  Well, except for the parade that I think still happens on actual Mardi Gras – this Tuesday.  We made our way to MOD Coffee shop and grabbed a hot chocolate.  And a seat.  Ahh.  Sometimes it sure feels good to just sit down.  As it turned out, however, that brief respite caused my hips and hamstrings to lock up.  When we stood to head to our next destination I had a difficult time getting the old muscles to respond. 

We made it to the site of our evening frolic, however.  We went to a place called Sharky’s Tavern to have a pizza and listen to a band called Salty Sounds.  The trio consists of our worship pastor Jim, our church violinist Corey, and John, a guy who is actually our neighbor here in Gulf Village.  They were excellent, as usual.  I couldn’t hear much beyond the music (ah, the joys of hearing aids), so I focused on watching the one lady who was alternatively dancing, playing pool, and screaming in delight over whatever song the guys were singing.  Oh, yeah … and the Olympics.  We also watched the Olympics.  Guess that’s what you do in a tavern.  We’re just not very experienced at such rabble rousing. 

Psalms 33:4-5 says, “For the word of the Lord is right and true; he is faithful in all he does.  The Lord loves righteousness and justice; the earth is full of his unfailing love.”

Father, be with all the youngsters we saw at the parade yesterday, both the ones on the float and on the parade route.  Speaks highly of Galveston’s future.  Amen.

February 11 – “A perspective/priority reminder”

I had another encounter with a penetrating devotional thought this morning.  The book is called Experiencing God Day by Day by Henry and Richard Blackaby.  Here’s what they said:

If you told you spouse that you loved her at certain times but that you struggled to love her at others, your relationship would be in jeopardy.  Yet we assume that God is satisfied with occasional love or partial obedience.  He is not.

Obedience without love is legalism.  Obedience for its own sake can be nothing more than perfectionism, which leads to pride.  Many conscientious Christians seek to cultivate discipline in their lives to be more obedient to Christ.  As helpful as spiritual disciplines can be, they never can replace your love for God.  Love is the discipline.  God looks beyond your godly habits, beyond your moral lifestyle, and beyond your church involvement and focuses His penetrating gaze upon your heart.

John 14:21 says, “He who has my commandments and keeps them, it is he who loves me.  And he who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and manifest myself to him.”

Father, thanks for perspective/priority reminders.  I sure need a good jolt in that area … often.  Amen.

February 10 – “Let there be light”

For the last three days we have been driving with a burned out headlight.  Easy fix, you might say?  Well, actually it is.  Or, it was.  The problem was having to leave the house at 7 a.m. for the class I was taking, and not getting back home until after 6 p.m.  I have had my little taste of commuter-dom.  Think I’ll do my best to stick to living on a barrier island. 

So yesterday was the day to get the thing fixed.  However, Chris disappeared into the bedroom for a few hours to nurse a headache, and I was doing my best to keep quiet.  As a result, fixing the headlight never entered my mind for the better part of the day.  We went to pick up Cailyn from school, and she leapt from the car and almost immediately started playing with our new neighbor’s little girls.  They are younger then she is, but they are about the same age as the girl across the street from her house, so she is used to playing with younger friends.  Chris and I got to talking with the kiddo’s dad, and out of the blue I remembered about the headlight.  As usual with me, it was harder to find the proper tool than it was to actually use it.  Part of that problem can be placed squarely in the hands of … YouTube.  Yep, I called up how to replace a headlight bulb.  Easy to follow video by some guy who has an auto parts shop.  However … he identified a wrong sized ratchet.  It was hard enough to find the one he called for the first time, but the actual size was an odd one 7 millimeters.  I did have one, though, and pulled the headlight out with little difficulty.  I got the bulb and replaced the empty headlight so we could drive the car. 

After we dropped Cailyn off at her house, we went over to the auto supply house near us and bought the part we needed.  $15.99.  It was a pain to unscrew the bolts again, but it was certainly way better than paying someone else to do it.  Hmm.  I wonder if there is a video on repainting when ice scrapes off a big swath?  That area is sure beginning to attract the rust.  Welcome to salt-air Galveston.

Psalms 33:2-3 says, “Praise the Lord with the harp; make music to him on the ten-stringed lyre.  Sing to him a new song; play skillfully, and shout for joy.”

Father, thank you for those YouTube guys who post how-to videos.  They do help us ignorant, er, automotively challenged, folks.  Amen.

February 9 – “A Paws Patrol Moment”

The school week is finished.  Eight to five for three days.  That’s a total of - what? – 700 hours of school in one week?  What’s that?  24?  You have to be kidding me.  I totally understand the plight of the youngster in our country today.  By the end of the day yesterday I was exhausted.  And of course it was Thursday, so I had to lead Bible study at Home Group when I got home.  No decompressing for me until sometime around 9.  And how does said decompressing happen?  Well, it varies, but last night an episode of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine did the trick.  Klingons searching for the sword of Kahless.  Archaeology.  History.  Indiana Jones-ish excitement. Can’t beat it.  

The last day of school was all about role playing the group interactions part of critical incident stress management.  Not really my favorite, although it is fun to act out the various scenarios.  The problem is, they are never close to reality as I have seen it.  The instructor stacks the deck with ringers who he coaches to be either absolute obnoxious jerks, or some other extreme emotional victim.  Then the ones playing the role of the helping team has to figure out how to deal with them.  In reality, there may one or two of the extreme kind of person in any group.  Most others are really looking for help and want to be there, so they tend to be bending over backwards to cooperate.  The pretend team members all did quite well, though.  We all earned our course certificates and training hour credits.

And on to the important stuff, we went back to the barbecue place for lunch.  Had to try the actual barbecue at least once.  The baby back ribs were really good, too.  But the cream of the crop award had to go to the fried okra.  Best I have had in I don’t know how long.  Very crispy, just as I like it.  Recommend that place highly, but I don’t remember the name of it.  Sorry. 

While we waited in line a little boy joined us with his mom.  He was riding on the door handles and playing with the bottles of beer on ice and in general being a little boy.  But I noticed right away that he was wearing some Paws Patrol fire fighter boots.  I commented to him that I really did like his boots.  His Mom saw my Fire Department hat and coat, so she told him I was a fireman.  The little guy’s eyes just about bulged out of his head.  He wouldn’t shake my hand.  Too timid for that.  But the grin on his face was about as wide as they come.  Worth the moment.

Psalms 33:1 says, “Sing joyfully to the Lord, you righteous; it is fitting for the upright to praise him.”

Father, take care of that little guy as he grows.  Draw him close to you.  Amen.

February 8 – “Texas Thunder”

Day two of the big school extravaganza has come and gone.  The morning was spent listening to the lead teacher lecture some more.  He insisted that we would move on to role playing as soon as possible.  Well, that didn’t happen before lunch, so a group of us headed over to a barbecue place the instructor spoke very highly of.  I had their fried shrimp lunch special.  I know.  Shrimp at a barbecue place.  It was good though.  And I’m pretty sure we are going back again tomorrow.  The lunch special is baby back ribs. 

We finally got around to the role playing after lunch.  We were in teams of three.  One was the person needing help, one was the CISM helper, and the other observed the interchange and offered advice.  I was the first CISM person, and Theresa the cop lady was my person to help.  Something unusual happened, though.  We started the assigned role play, but she decided she wanted to talk about something that really happened to her, an officer ambush where several guys she knew lost their lives.  She opened up and really shared her heart.  Seems when the event happened she was so involved in helping others that she never got to debrief herself.  I hope the experience yesterday helped her out.  She needed it.  Our second role play was an actual role play, but the third one became another real-life event from a fire fighter’s past experience.  He ended up sharing with us how much has changed in the realm of “dealing with it” since the event happened to him 25 years ago.  It was quite a fascinating time.  Far overshadowed the loss of power just before time to leave for home for the day.

As the instructor was in the middle of his talk, a very loud clap of thunder happened.  He asked what that was.  Since he was standing right in front of me, I told him it was thunder.  Also asked him if they had thunder in Michigan where he lives.  He replied, “Yes, we have it.  It’s just not …”  I finished his sentence.  “Just not as big as in Texas?  Yep.  Everything is bigger in Texas.”  He kind of lost control there for a minute or two.  Said he had to give me that round.  It wasn’t long after that, though that every light in the facility went black, along with the sound system and the powerpoint screen.  It all came back before too long, but he was talking about the Texas thunder for the rest of the session.

Psalms 32:11 says, “Rejoice in the Lord and be glad, you righteous; sing, all you who are upright in heart!”

Father, thank you for keeping us all safe out in the crazy weather yesterday.  Amen.