yes...that is a pink and white julio jersey. makes a daddy proud.

"home-churched"???
(ripping from the onion this time)
((thanks for the link, sarah))


..."when i open the Good Book and begin to preach, my kids associate all the things they learn about—the floods, the plagues, the impalings, the threat of eternal hellfire—with their daddy,"...

an interesting and seemingly accurate explanation on the helmet controversy

lay, lead her


i am glad i was at the bama game yesterday. outside of the terrible piped in music that played during any significant pause in the action, yesterday was everything that you could ask for out of a college football game if your college football team ended up on the winning end of things. if i were joe tennessee fan, i would be upset with my kicker. upset with the officials that didn't call a penalty after cody ripped his helmet off. i would forget about the pass interference non-call that went "our" way late in the second quarter. and i would call bama overrated as often as i saw fit over the next two weeks and tell all my friends how lsu is going to beat "that team" in tuscaloosa in two weeks.

thank god i am not joe tennessee fan.

i am fan of the university of alabama. more specifically and less conditionally, i am a fan of the football team. the football team that lost their starting tight end during warm-ups. the football team with the defense that would have gone three consecutive games without giving up a touchdown if eric berry (props to that guy, seriously) didn't go and do what eric berry does and rip the ball from mark ingram. the football team that yesterday had terrence cody and your team didn't. the team with the fans (or at least the guy behind me yesterday) that now think any play not involving mark ingram running the ball is "stupid", "idiotic" and "we've lost our minds" all at the same time. (funny how a few heisman mentions can change one's way of thinking. silly.) the last time i went to a tennessee game, sarah and i left before the end of the fourth quarter and got home before the overtime extravaganza ended in a tide loss. yesterday left a better taste than that. the last time i was as excited at the end of a football game as i was yesterday afternoon, i was nine and looking at van tiffin's back and not fully grasping that i witnessed, in person, one of "those moments" that were going to end up in a pre-game montage. i witnessed, in person, another one of "those moments" yesterday, twenty-three years later. pretty cool stuff. i haven't had time to process it fully yet, but my morning after memories have already sketched the outline of what will be a fairly terrific painting years down the road. thanks, amy and katie. a good day. the best of friends. alabama football. a dramatic win. hear, hear.

and so, the sun brought with it a sunday morning. a sunday morning that i find myself at the store and not the church. the story will be the same next sunday too. but next sunday will have followed what will be our halloween carnival. not a "halloween carnival" or a fall festival. not some poor excuse for a party on the 25th or the 28th or some morning during next week that's not so scary because it isn't dark yet that you are throwing on some day that is not october 31st. and no one knows what to expect. isn't that the best and most terrifying feeling ever? the unknown? the uncertainty that our community could come out in droves and prove to us, once and for all, why we shouldn't have done the carnival without more support from the church on the whole. to me, it is. because for me, i want there to be 500 or more people in our parking lot next saturday night. i want us to be overwhelmed. i want us to regret our decision in as good a way as possible. i want it to be a tipping point. i want it to be so big and so bad (like, michael jackson bad) that we must and we should recalculate what our church in the middle of huffman needs and looks to be. and i want to thank the few of you that have stuck your neck out and said that you think it's as important as it is and should be.

at the universtiy of alabama, they don't play football, they live it.

at humc, do we go to church, or do we live it?

hannah and caroline and me

(part thirty-two)

these athletes are going to hell


until i get back into the groove, i'll just keeping ripping deadspin posts. this made me laugh.

i am pretty sure "amazing grace" baptist church thinks i am going to "hell" too.

and you.

and you.

and you.

etc.

hilarious


tebow as our lord and savior was not my idea, originally, but i'd like to think (because i am ridiculous and annoying) i've been on that bandwagon longer than most. this made me laugh. the picture attached to the post is awesome.

http://deadspin.com/5379602/tim-tebow-messiah-watch-touching-the-hem-of-his-garment-edition

end of day 151 (10/9/09) 2173 miles (5 to go)


jesus.

he's about to finish.

magnificent.

amazing.

awe-inspiring.

romantic.

incredible.

terrifying.

touching.

facebook.

epic.

somewhere in maine, a journey is about to come to an end. when you've been outside, walking for five months, what does one think when there is nowhere left to go?

i've been married. had kids. hit homeruns. called preachers dicks. lost a kidney. etc.

this seems every bit as big to me, though. every bit as big. i can't wait to hear all about it...

while building a box maze.

hell. and yes.

100 percent isn't what it used to be


"tell me about it."

the timing of something like what i went through (and continue to "go through") this summer would never be good, per se. such is any unexpected and/or scary news. you never want it. you tell yourself you're never gone get it. then, you get it. you deal with it. we all deal with it in our own individual ways.

before the mass was found, though, i was already at a time of physical transition in my life. don't get me wrong. i don't want to be shallow and play the "i am getting old" card as an excuse, but i will say that i've been coming to terms with "i am not what i used to be" for a couple of years. of course, i am not old. 32 sounds young to me. 32 has always sounded young to me. i hope i get the chance to look back in thirty years and understand how young 32 really was and is. but, 32 is older than 27, and it is definitely older than 23, which is how young i was when i started playing softball and basketball full-time with and for the church. it was nine years ago that i felt like i could and should start something sports-y for myself and the men in and around my church. for those that were already there, we could have another excuse to fraternize with one another. for our friends and those that may not have already been "there", it would serve as a ministry of our church. not one whose sole intention was to grow the church, necessarily, but one that might fill a need in our lives and those we could invite to "come out and play".

when i was 23 through about 29 or 30, i felt no shame in inserting myself in the heart of our softball line-up. i was never the biggest, but i could swing a pretty good bat, know where it was going most of the time and get on base 4 out of every 5 at-bats, if not more. in the field, i was equally confident. i had enough athletic wherewithal that i felt like i was a strength in the field, no matter what position i wrote myself into. the same went for the basketball court. no one would mistake me for being really good. i didn't play high school ball, but i was better than your average church-league guard. could probably shoot a lot better than most. dribble with both hands. see the court in ways that made me happy and proud at times. i wanted to start every game, but chose not to. selfishly, i knew that would give me the credit i needed to finish every game, which is what's important.

the last couple years have been different, though. what little power i had has, more or less, gone away. i am no longer a homerun threat. and thus, probably a poor choice for third in our line-up. my shoulder has something wrong with it. i haven't gotten it checked out, because it doesn't keep me up at night or prevent me from doing anything, but there is discomfort every time i throw. the last couple of basketball seasons have shown similar drop-off. what little lateral quickness i did have is fading. i am having to find open spaces on the court by wheeling around screens that provide room that i can't make on my own. my confidence on the ball is waning. i don't want to run our point, because "kids" much younger than i can potentially make me a turnover liability.

losing what i once had was going to be hard enough. the glimpse of losing what was still to come this summer was, as i suggested, just poor timing i guess.

i am fragile, yet proud. neither of which has provided much ammunition against my fears and anxiety.

coming to terms with my physical limitations as i get "older" has never sounded so nice. if i could only get back to a place where things like that seemed important again.

off to therapy.