Anyone who knows me, knows I'm not a fan of President Obama. I didn't vote for him, and won't when he runs in four years unless he changes his politics drastically. That much change would be less like the proverbial frog turning into a prince, and more like the frog turning into an interstellar spaceship, so it's not likely.
Okay. You get the point. Still, as a disciple of Jesus and a believer in the scriptures, I'm obligated to obey the laws of our land, even when I don't agree with them. Further, I'm obligated to pray for Obama and for all our leaders.
This has posed a problem for me. Obama stands for many things I oppose, and stands against many of the things I support. (This applies to many others in government, but let's just confine this to one official for now.) Some of the things he stands for are just plain wrong, and some—not to mince words—are evil.
But I am not freed of my duty of praying for him, showing him respect, and even doing good toward him. I've struggled with this, and I've been able to pray for him, but it hasn't been a terribly pleasant duty, and it has been hard to put my heart into.
The last thing I want to do is to mouth insincere prayers.
Lately, though, I've received some help in this from what some might call an unlikely source: from Summer Spectacular, our church's version of Vacation Bible School.
Now, when I say "Vacation Bible School", many of you have an image of a group of sweaty kids singing If You're Happy and You Know It and Kum Bah Ya or watching a teacher with a gray bun putting Noah's ark up on a flannelgraph. And you couldn't be further from the reality of Summer Spectacular. We go absolutely all out for Summer Spectacular. It's a full musical performed over three nights (actually performed twice over six nights), with classes for all the kids and the adults, autographs from the characters, prizes, games—the works. It really is as spectacular as the name says.
This year, we put on the story of Esther. For those of you unfamiliar with Esther, it's the story of a young Jewish girl who is selected to be the new queen of Xerxes, the ruler of the Medo-Persian empire. The Jews have been in captivity for many years, and their original captors, the Babylonians, have been supplanted by the Medo-Persians.
In the story, Mordecai, Esther's cousin, saves the king from a plot against his life. This is the same king who keeps the Jews from returning to their homeland, who gets rid of his first queen because she won't appear before him and his nobles at a drunken party, and who has an entire harem of young, beautiful girls, most of whom he sleeps with once and then sends away. He's also the king who later issues an edict to kill all of the Jews in the empire and allowing those who kill them to take all their property.
Let's just say Xerxes is not the world's nicest guy. Let's go a little further and say he makes Obama (or any President I've ever known) look like a saint. And really, you wouldn't expect the king of a great, expanding empire to be a nice guy. It's unlikely he got to such a position by kissing babies and making speeches. Far more likely that his ascent was a bloody one. And yet Mordecai not only saves his life, but honors him as king and ruler.
Now, I've known this story for a long time. But seeing it played out brought it home to me in a new way. A big part of the story is that Mordecai does not give honor where honor is not due. He refuses to bow before Haman, who comes up with the idea of killing all the Jews. But he does honor Xerxes. And the Bible is full of other stories that bring this home in the same way. Joseph honored Pharaoh, even though he was enslaved and imprisoned falsely. Daniel honored the king in the same way that Moredecai did, even though he was sent to the lion's den for refusing to stop his prayers.
Suddenly, it's not so hard to pray for Obama. Now, unlike Mordecai, we live in a representative republic. We get to participate in the political process and even vote. As I understand it, we have a duty to do so. So I'll continue to work for the things I think are right and against those I think are wrong. And I'll cast my votes for those whom I think are best suited to govern. But no matter who wins or loses, I'll continue to pray protection, wisdom, peace and strength for our leaders.
There is a lot more to the story of Esther. It's a great story of courage and deliverance. I found myself cheering for both Mordecai and Esther. But I'll always remember Summer Spectacular for what Mordecai taught me about honoring rulers. Even those I oppose.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Monday, June 22, 2009
Father's Day Thoughts
Becoming a father was the most life-changing thing that ever occurred to me. I say this even though I probably should be saying that my salvation was the most life-changing thing. But I'd have to lie to do that. You see, God has taught me so much through my children, and I firmly believe that only through my children have I come to understand who God is and what his love means. I can't credit my children with saving me, but they helped point me in the right direction.
Becoming a father changes absolutely everything. Much of this may sound a bit mystical to some folks, but it is a true and necessary mysticism. From the first moment I held my firstborn, I knew that a change had come over me. The full nature of that change didn't come to me right away. But change was obvious. I was a bit of a reluctant father. Shan and I told each other we would wait five years after our marriage before having children. It seemed the best choice considering how young we married (I was just 19). Even when that five-year deadline came to pass, I was still unsure about becoming a parent. Shan was the one who brought the subject back up. I agreed, but it was more for her than for me.
At only four weeks into the pregnancy, we got a scare. Our doctor (Shan's obstetrician as well as our GP) scheduled a sonogram, as he was concerned it might be a tubal pregnancy. Thankfully, the sonogram revealed a normal pregnancy, and at four weeks we could see a heartbeat on the monitor. We still have a black-and-white Polaroid picture of that little bump that was our son Brian. I knew then by the fear in my heart that I was a father, and a different man. We went through all the pregnancy rituals; childbirth classes, talking to the baby, acquiring the myriad of stuff that babies require.
But when I held that perfect little person, felt the warmth of his skin, and the beating of his heart, and the movement of his little arms and legs, I was lost forever. Such a wave of love came over me as I had never felt. In that one moment, I knew just a bit of how God loves us. I knew I would gladly trade my life for my son's. It was stronger, in a way, than the love I felt for Shan. It was instant, and total, and completely involuntary.
I felt that same thing with my other children, first Duncan, then Rachel. Instant love, instant responsibility, instant willingness to take on the world to defend that little life.
My kids aren't so little anymore. My youngest is 16. But I still have that same willingness to sacrifice anything, even life, for them.
And it is a sacrifice to be a father or mother. For our children we give up time, money, attention, sometimes even our dreams. Having a child changes your life totally. And I wouldn't go back for anything. In spite of the problems, in spite of the mess, the expense, and the time, I wouldn't trade any of the time with my children. Just the opposite. I wish I had spent more time doing the little things with them—reading a book, playing a game, listening to them talk, just sitting with them. There never seems to be enough time. But I take satisfaction in knowing that my time with them is not over. No, they aren't little kids anymore. Now they are becoming more like friends. That's good, too.
There are lots of folks who will not willingly make the sacrifice that children require. There are lots more who start to do so and fail to keep their commitments down the road. Neither of those alternatives has any appeal to me. My greatest joys, my greatest triumphs have come to me through fatherhood. Also my darkest times and greatest failures. And I'd never want it to be any other way.
Happy belated Father's Day to all the fathers. And to my children: thank you for making me the man that I am.
Becoming a father changes absolutely everything. Much of this may sound a bit mystical to some folks, but it is a true and necessary mysticism. From the first moment I held my firstborn, I knew that a change had come over me. The full nature of that change didn't come to me right away. But change was obvious. I was a bit of a reluctant father. Shan and I told each other we would wait five years after our marriage before having children. It seemed the best choice considering how young we married (I was just 19). Even when that five-year deadline came to pass, I was still unsure about becoming a parent. Shan was the one who brought the subject back up. I agreed, but it was more for her than for me.
At only four weeks into the pregnancy, we got a scare. Our doctor (Shan's obstetrician as well as our GP) scheduled a sonogram, as he was concerned it might be a tubal pregnancy. Thankfully, the sonogram revealed a normal pregnancy, and at four weeks we could see a heartbeat on the monitor. We still have a black-and-white Polaroid picture of that little bump that was our son Brian. I knew then by the fear in my heart that I was a father, and a different man. We went through all the pregnancy rituals; childbirth classes, talking to the baby, acquiring the myriad of stuff that babies require.
But when I held that perfect little person, felt the warmth of his skin, and the beating of his heart, and the movement of his little arms and legs, I was lost forever. Such a wave of love came over me as I had never felt. In that one moment, I knew just a bit of how God loves us. I knew I would gladly trade my life for my son's. It was stronger, in a way, than the love I felt for Shan. It was instant, and total, and completely involuntary.
I felt that same thing with my other children, first Duncan, then Rachel. Instant love, instant responsibility, instant willingness to take on the world to defend that little life.
My kids aren't so little anymore. My youngest is 16. But I still have that same willingness to sacrifice anything, even life, for them.
And it is a sacrifice to be a father or mother. For our children we give up time, money, attention, sometimes even our dreams. Having a child changes your life totally. And I wouldn't go back for anything. In spite of the problems, in spite of the mess, the expense, and the time, I wouldn't trade any of the time with my children. Just the opposite. I wish I had spent more time doing the little things with them—reading a book, playing a game, listening to them talk, just sitting with them. There never seems to be enough time. But I take satisfaction in knowing that my time with them is not over. No, they aren't little kids anymore. Now they are becoming more like friends. That's good, too.
There are lots of folks who will not willingly make the sacrifice that children require. There are lots more who start to do so and fail to keep their commitments down the road. Neither of those alternatives has any appeal to me. My greatest joys, my greatest triumphs have come to me through fatherhood. Also my darkest times and greatest failures. And I'd never want it to be any other way.
Happy belated Father's Day to all the fathers. And to my children: thank you for making me the man that I am.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
A Mighty Man and a Woman of Great Strength
Here is the updated post about Jimison and Connie Clark . . ..
Last night I was privileged to attend the testimony of a friend of mine, Jimison Clark, and of his wife Connie. Jimison is a man who has been part of the Pure Iron Men, a support and accountability group that I facilitate at my church, Richland Hills Church of Christ. Pure Iron Men is for men who are coming out of pornography and other sexual addiction. Jimison has felt for some time that he needed to go public with his struggle and do something to help other men who are caught in that same web of bondage. It's a vicious addictive cycle, and it's something virtually all men are vulnerable to.
I've talked to Jimison many times over the past year or so, and prayed for him often about this. This is something that takes a lot of courage. Porn and other sexual addictions are the great hidden sins. You can go to a lot of churches and find help for alcoholism or drug addiction, but most won't offer any help for sexual addiction, and most don't even want to hear about it. I don't know how many times I've had men come to Pure Iron Men who simply can't get any help at their home church, and have encountered roadblocks that range from "Oh, we don't have that problem here," to "You must not really be a Christian if you like that stuff." It makes my blood boil, sometimes.
Jimison's church, Abiding Word, isn't like that. When Jimison spoke to the church leadership about what he wanted to do, they supported him and basically created a special service just for him and his wife, Connie. More about Connie later.
Jimison invited me to hear his testimony, and I was excited and happy to do so. One of the best things about being involved with Pure Iron Men is seeing one of my brothers start a group or ministry of his own. It has happened several times in the past few years, and it fills me with joy and pride.
After a scripture reading, a song, and some prayer, Jimison got up and related how he had grown up in a good home, but had fallen in with a friend who got him in to gangs and dealing drugs. God saved him from that, and he didn't carry any of those problems with him into adulthood. But porn addiction did. He was very open about his addiction and how it took a mighty effort on his part and a mighty work of God to free him. But free he is, and God impressed on him the need to go public and start his own ministry, Thirteen to Thirty, to help others gain freedom.
I was so proud of him! It takes great courage to admit to any fault and to admit to sexual addiction is way over the top in terms of difficulty. But he did it, and his testimony was very powerful.
Then Connie began to speak. I had never previously met Connie. I knew little more about her than her name and the fact that she was married to Jimison, and freely forgave his sins against her with pornography. That right there was enough to make me a big fan. But there was so much more.
I can't go into Connie's story here. It's hers to tell. I will tell you this: Connie's story made Jamison's look tame. She has overcome so much! What a mighty family! It is my honor and privilege to know them and to have had some small part in Jamison's freedom.
Jamison and Connie have both created websites to help those who struggle as they do. For Jamison's site, go to www.13233.org. For Connie's site, go to www.dndm.org.
I pray that their stories help you with yours.
Last night I was privileged to attend the testimony of a friend of mine, Jimison Clark, and of his wife Connie. Jimison is a man who has been part of the Pure Iron Men, a support and accountability group that I facilitate at my church, Richland Hills Church of Christ. Pure Iron Men is for men who are coming out of pornography and other sexual addiction. Jimison has felt for some time that he needed to go public with his struggle and do something to help other men who are caught in that same web of bondage. It's a vicious addictive cycle, and it's something virtually all men are vulnerable to.
I've talked to Jimison many times over the past year or so, and prayed for him often about this. This is something that takes a lot of courage. Porn and other sexual addictions are the great hidden sins. You can go to a lot of churches and find help for alcoholism or drug addiction, but most won't offer any help for sexual addiction, and most don't even want to hear about it. I don't know how many times I've had men come to Pure Iron Men who simply can't get any help at their home church, and have encountered roadblocks that range from "Oh, we don't have that problem here," to "You must not really be a Christian if you like that stuff." It makes my blood boil, sometimes.
Jimison's church, Abiding Word, isn't like that. When Jimison spoke to the church leadership about what he wanted to do, they supported him and basically created a special service just for him and his wife, Connie. More about Connie later.
Jimison invited me to hear his testimony, and I was excited and happy to do so. One of the best things about being involved with Pure Iron Men is seeing one of my brothers start a group or ministry of his own. It has happened several times in the past few years, and it fills me with joy and pride.
After a scripture reading, a song, and some prayer, Jimison got up and related how he had grown up in a good home, but had fallen in with a friend who got him in to gangs and dealing drugs. God saved him from that, and he didn't carry any of those problems with him into adulthood. But porn addiction did. He was very open about his addiction and how it took a mighty effort on his part and a mighty work of God to free him. But free he is, and God impressed on him the need to go public and start his own ministry, Thirteen to Thirty, to help others gain freedom.
I was so proud of him! It takes great courage to admit to any fault and to admit to sexual addiction is way over the top in terms of difficulty. But he did it, and his testimony was very powerful.
Then Connie began to speak. I had never previously met Connie. I knew little more about her than her name and the fact that she was married to Jimison, and freely forgave his sins against her with pornography. That right there was enough to make me a big fan. But there was so much more.
I can't go into Connie's story here. It's hers to tell. I will tell you this: Connie's story made Jamison's look tame. She has overcome so much! What a mighty family! It is my honor and privilege to know them and to have had some small part in Jamison's freedom.
Jamison and Connie have both created websites to help those who struggle as they do. For Jamison's site, go to www.13233.org. For Connie's site, go to www.dndm.org.
I pray that their stories help you with yours.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Surprised by Despair
Sometimes I surprise myself by how clueless I am. Allow me to elaborate, if you will. Lately I've been plagued by a feeling of malaise and pointlessness. It isn't debilitating, and it only seems to appear when I am not caught up in all of the usual things that keep me busy. Between work, family, ministry, and even a hobby or two, I have a lot going on in my life, and I am usually quite busy. And when I'm not busy, I'm ready for some rest.
But as I said, lately whenever I've had some down time, I've been fighting this feeling of pointlessness, even of despair. It's almost like a mild depression. I start to dwell on things that have not turned out as they should, on the roadblocks in my path, on failures, hurts, setbacks, and losses. I find myself focusing on physical pain, and feeling sorry for myself. I know, intellectually, that I am blessed beyond measure, and that God is really looking out for me. But in the quiet, inner places, I still feel this malaise. I've chalked it up to illness, or weariness, or just a response to things that really have gone wrong. And it keeps coming back.
Now, I'm fairly attuned to spiritual warfare. I know God has an enemy, and the only way that enemy can hurt God is to hurt his children. That's you and me, in case you didn't know. Satan likes nothing better than to hurt those who follow Jesus. If he can't keep you from being a disciple, he'll do his best to make you ineffective (usually through sin and addictive behavior), and if he can't do that, he'll steal your joy. I know these things. I've seen them many times. I speak into the lives of others who are under this kind of spiritual oppression, pray for them, and frequently see them set free.
So, why didn't I see it for myself?
I began to get a clue when I realized (thank you, God!) that God wasn't happy with the way I was feeling, but Satan would be. God doesn't want his children to be swallowed up in despair. He wants us to succeed at the tasks he has given us. And we accomplish little when we're sitting around bemoaning the past and worrying about the future. Then Satan tipped his hand. He went a bit too far, and started to remind me of a situation where I thought I was wronged. The idea was, "If you can't have that, what good is it to go on? You deserve better than that."
Nice try, but no dice. That really let me know the source of my troubles. No good purpose is served by rehashing old slights and hurts. No good purpose is served by feeling sorry for myself, or by seeing a brother or sister as my enemy. The only purpose those things serve is to make Satan laugh.
You see, I'd been neglecting to pray about such things, to ask God for protection from such spirits. I'd neglected to take hold of God's promises and instead I'd listened to accusation.
I quickly remedied that, asking not only for protection, but for deliverance. And I'm still asking, because it is going to take more than one quick prayer. I'd allowed despair to establish a beachhead, and now it was going to take some time to drive it back into the sea.
And I'm asking God daily to reveal to me any other footholds I've given to Satan. You see, Satan, being the father of lies, knows how to come after us. He doesn't start with some strange, wild accusation. No, he takes truth and twists it just the slightest bit, at first. Over time he twists it more and more, until truth is standing on its head. I still have physical pain, I still have setbacks, and roadblocks, and losses, and problems. Those are inevitable. What is not inevitable is yielding to despair. God has an enemy and so do we. This is a broken world, and Satan has no reason to stop coming after us. But God ultimately wins.
And we win, too.
But as I said, lately whenever I've had some down time, I've been fighting this feeling of pointlessness, even of despair. It's almost like a mild depression. I start to dwell on things that have not turned out as they should, on the roadblocks in my path, on failures, hurts, setbacks, and losses. I find myself focusing on physical pain, and feeling sorry for myself. I know, intellectually, that I am blessed beyond measure, and that God is really looking out for me. But in the quiet, inner places, I still feel this malaise. I've chalked it up to illness, or weariness, or just a response to things that really have gone wrong. And it keeps coming back.
Now, I'm fairly attuned to spiritual warfare. I know God has an enemy, and the only way that enemy can hurt God is to hurt his children. That's you and me, in case you didn't know. Satan likes nothing better than to hurt those who follow Jesus. If he can't keep you from being a disciple, he'll do his best to make you ineffective (usually through sin and addictive behavior), and if he can't do that, he'll steal your joy. I know these things. I've seen them many times. I speak into the lives of others who are under this kind of spiritual oppression, pray for them, and frequently see them set free.
So, why didn't I see it for myself?
I began to get a clue when I realized (thank you, God!) that God wasn't happy with the way I was feeling, but Satan would be. God doesn't want his children to be swallowed up in despair. He wants us to succeed at the tasks he has given us. And we accomplish little when we're sitting around bemoaning the past and worrying about the future. Then Satan tipped his hand. He went a bit too far, and started to remind me of a situation where I thought I was wronged. The idea was, "If you can't have that, what good is it to go on? You deserve better than that."
Nice try, but no dice. That really let me know the source of my troubles. No good purpose is served by rehashing old slights and hurts. No good purpose is served by feeling sorry for myself, or by seeing a brother or sister as my enemy. The only purpose those things serve is to make Satan laugh.
You see, I'd been neglecting to pray about such things, to ask God for protection from such spirits. I'd neglected to take hold of God's promises and instead I'd listened to accusation.
I quickly remedied that, asking not only for protection, but for deliverance. And I'm still asking, because it is going to take more than one quick prayer. I'd allowed despair to establish a beachhead, and now it was going to take some time to drive it back into the sea.
And I'm asking God daily to reveal to me any other footholds I've given to Satan. You see, Satan, being the father of lies, knows how to come after us. He doesn't start with some strange, wild accusation. No, he takes truth and twists it just the slightest bit, at first. Over time he twists it more and more, until truth is standing on its head. I still have physical pain, I still have setbacks, and roadblocks, and losses, and problems. Those are inevitable. What is not inevitable is yielding to despair. God has an enemy and so do we. This is a broken world, and Satan has no reason to stop coming after us. But God ultimately wins.
And we win, too.
Monday, June 8, 2009
Lifted Up
For once, I get to review a movie before my son does. Hooray!
My wife and I went to see Up this weekend, and it gets my highest approval rating. Pixar is a company of geniuses when it comes to animated film, as proven by their unbroken string of great flicks. (Well, A Bug's Life was just okay.) Up trumps them all. Rarely have I been so uplifted by a movie.
And that is the point. The idea that a movie or play or book or story should lift our spirits has gone out of fashion. Hollywood and the critics in particular have decided that only dark stories and those about twisted, tortured characters are worthy of their respect and their accolades. If you leave a movie feeling disturbed, saddened, and sickened, they feel their work has been well done. Look at the films that win the awards and the acclaim.
At the box office, many of those films do well, but not as well as the ones that leave us cheering, smiling, and hopeful. Up is one of those, and I predict it will be a box office smash as well.
The movie also puts to rest the idea that animated characters must be cute and cuddly to be sympathetic. Carl Fredricksen is neither cute nor cuddly. He's 78 years old, stubborn, crotchety, and pugnacious. He's also totally, completely dedicated to his late wife Ellie, and a man of his word—to a fault.
The montage that chronicles Carl and Ellie's life together—encompassing their wedding, their first (and only) home, the loss of an unborn child, their dreams of living by Paradise Falls, and Ellie's death—covers just a few minutes with no dialogue at all. Yet it manages to convey all of their hopes, dreams, heartbreaks, triumphs, and tragedies in a way that most full movies can never approach. It is pure storytelling genius.
The characters are funny, quirky, and approachable. Even irascible old Carl becomes the gruff but loving grandfather we all wish we had. Russell, the young Wilderness Explorer, is impossible to resist. He's rather like a puppy. Dug, the dog with the translating collar and the squirrel obsession really caps it off. All of the characters ring true, but Dug is absolute doggie truth. Any of you who have had a dog know what I mean.
But the story and the message are what Up is really all about. Some will say that the messages about the importance of marriage, family, and stability will be lost on children, or too much for them to grasp. I must disagree. It is children who need these messages the most. They will take from this a better understanding of what it means to love for better or for worse, and of the importance of just being faithful and true to those you love.
A lot is being written about this movie, and I won't go further. I especially won't print any spoilers. Frankly, there aren't a lot of big surprises anyway. They aren't really needed when you have a story as perfect as this.
My wife and I went to see Up this weekend, and it gets my highest approval rating. Pixar is a company of geniuses when it comes to animated film, as proven by their unbroken string of great flicks. (Well, A Bug's Life was just okay.) Up trumps them all. Rarely have I been so uplifted by a movie.
And that is the point. The idea that a movie or play or book or story should lift our spirits has gone out of fashion. Hollywood and the critics in particular have decided that only dark stories and those about twisted, tortured characters are worthy of their respect and their accolades. If you leave a movie feeling disturbed, saddened, and sickened, they feel their work has been well done. Look at the films that win the awards and the acclaim.
At the box office, many of those films do well, but not as well as the ones that leave us cheering, smiling, and hopeful. Up is one of those, and I predict it will be a box office smash as well.
The movie also puts to rest the idea that animated characters must be cute and cuddly to be sympathetic. Carl Fredricksen is neither cute nor cuddly. He's 78 years old, stubborn, crotchety, and pugnacious. He's also totally, completely dedicated to his late wife Ellie, and a man of his word—to a fault.
The montage that chronicles Carl and Ellie's life together—encompassing their wedding, their first (and only) home, the loss of an unborn child, their dreams of living by Paradise Falls, and Ellie's death—covers just a few minutes with no dialogue at all. Yet it manages to convey all of their hopes, dreams, heartbreaks, triumphs, and tragedies in a way that most full movies can never approach. It is pure storytelling genius.
The characters are funny, quirky, and approachable. Even irascible old Carl becomes the gruff but loving grandfather we all wish we had. Russell, the young Wilderness Explorer, is impossible to resist. He's rather like a puppy. Dug, the dog with the translating collar and the squirrel obsession really caps it off. All of the characters ring true, but Dug is absolute doggie truth. Any of you who have had a dog know what I mean.
But the story and the message are what Up is really all about. Some will say that the messages about the importance of marriage, family, and stability will be lost on children, or too much for them to grasp. I must disagree. It is children who need these messages the most. They will take from this a better understanding of what it means to love for better or for worse, and of the importance of just being faithful and true to those you love.
A lot is being written about this movie, and I won't go further. I especially won't print any spoilers. Frankly, there aren't a lot of big surprises anyway. They aren't really needed when you have a story as perfect as this.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
The Ranger Game Updated
It turns out that Darrin Ellis did record us at the Ballpark on Friday. He posted it up on YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WsJOY-4J7rs
He was up in the stands with a hand-held video recorder, so the sound quality isn't great, but it sure sounded good from where I stood!
He was up in the stands with a hand-held video recorder, so the sound quality isn't great, but it sure sounded good from where I stood!
Monday, June 1, 2009
Pulled the Last Post
I realized that I might have stolen a bit of Jimison and Connie's thunder with my last post, so I pulled it. I'll write later about their testimony in perhaps less detail.
I want everyone to know that I love and respect Jimison and Connie greatly. They are truly doing a great work, and they are awesome folks. Sometimes miscommunication happens.
I want everyone to know that I love and respect Jimison and Connie greatly. They are truly doing a great work, and they are awesome folks. Sometimes miscommunication happens.
Singing at the Ranger Game
Just a quick update. Last Friday (5/29/09) I was privileged to be part of a group that sang the National Anthem at the Texas Rangers game. My praise team from church (it's not really mine, just the one I'm part of) has done this several times, and it is always a lot of fun. We had a great arrangement with some really tight, beautiful harmonies. It's kind of barbershop-quartet-like at times, and at times very jazzy. Last time we did this the mikes didn't work well and the pitch was hard to hear, so it was a bit of a train wreck. Not bad, jut not really good.
This time it came off flawlessly. These folks I sing with are absolutely top-notch! I had people stop me in the stadium to ask if I'd sung for them that night, and all of them were very gracious. Unfortunately, we didn't get it videotaped as we planned. Maybe next time.
And the Rangers won both games! How cool is that?
This time it came off flawlessly. These folks I sing with are absolutely top-notch! I had people stop me in the stadium to ask if I'd sung for them that night, and all of them were very gracious. Unfortunately, we didn't get it videotaped as we planned. Maybe next time.
And the Rangers won both games! How cool is that?
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