Ve Are Here to Pump You Up

I think I may have discovered a fitness regime that even Hans and Franz from the old Saturday Night Live skit would be hard pressed to say was only for girly men. I’m talking about something that would make P90X look like nothing more than a Richard Simmons Sweatin’ to the Oldies warm up stretch. Before I tell you about this exciting Total Body Workout, I probably need to set the stage a little bit.

For those unaware of what has been going on the home front, our house is having the equivalent of a total body make over.  To fully understand what necessitated such a total transformation, we must look back to the beginning of the neighborhood in which we live.  Like many others in this area, I’ve got some doubts in the wisdom of the original owners or the developer that thought it would be a be a great idea to phosphate strip mine the majority of the future home sites. Once they had removed everything that had any value from the dirt, they spread out the now depleted soil and started to build.  It could be just pure coincidence but a great many of the foundations of the homes in our neighborhood found this a less than stable environment.  This being said, we have now gotten to experience a second round of foundation repair. We are very pleased with our latest repair but raising  and stabilizing the foundation resulted in an unforeseen circumstance.  The supports for the floor joists in our bedroom were set up to match the sagging foundation. When the foundation was raised back to where it needed to be, those supports were, shall we say, slacking on their job.  The end result of this was that our bedroom floor had enough bounce to rival a trampoline gym.  Not only that but walking across the room rattled the handles on my dresser in a continuous loop of Jingle Bells.  Even though Christmas is rapidly approaching , I thought I should rectify the problem before the Product Safety Commission shut down our bedroom for not having safety nets up.  Now that you have the background story, you can fully appreciate the development of my exciting fitness discovery.

I had purchased a couple of house jacks and some timber to stabilize the floor.  I had also employed my great nephew (Thanks again, Peyton!) to act like the little burros that are used in mines to ferry supplies under the length of our home.  Now I was ready to begin my CB220max workout (The origin of the name will become apparent).  I also had some cinder blocks left over from previous tasks to use for bases.  The access door under the house is on the opposite side of the house from our bedroom so the CB220max exercise regime is based on transporting a couple of cinder blocks the length of the house.  I discovered, quite unintentionally because I couldn’t crawl on my injured left knee, that the way to increase the work load is to army crawl.  I know what the length of our home is but I began to wonder if somehow under the house it doubled.  Due to the aforementioned multiple supports under our home, the journey was more of a labyrinth, missing only the Minotaur to be complete. I could feel the burning in my forearms and my Fitbit want-to -be was screaming out uncle.  When I finally arrived at the next workout station, I had to perform countless head, neck, shoulder, knees and toes presses to position the support beam under the jacks.  Note: You need to keep the number of bumps on your head to under 20 to assure you are performing the exercise properly.  Sadly I learned this the hard way.  Upon completion of the countless presses, I then had to run the gauntlet of under house supports pushing the cinder blocks again since I didn’t end up using them after all.  I told my nephew to leave me and save himself but he stuck with me to the end.  I nearly cried when I saw the light from the crawl space access door but held it together for fear that Hans and or Franz would be there to call me a girly man. The CB220max had kicked me in the proverbial back side.  I dropped to the ground with places on my body hurting that I didn’t even know even had muscles. I laid on the driveway until the circling vultures began to get too close and then drug my aching body into the house.

Now that I have revealed the secret to this total body work out, I won’t be surprised to see copycat cinder block gyms pop up all over the place.  Soon to be followed by infomercials and apps touting ways to build your own CB220max gyms at home. Remember you saw it here first.

I guess, after undergoing such an exhausting endeavor, it’s important to take into account the lessons learned.  Even though we had repaired the foundation, our bedroom floor was not relying on it.  It was in essence depending only on itself for support and would have at sometime eventually failed.  Thankfully, I have a foundation that never fails in Jesus but if I don’t fully let Him hold me up, I too will eventually fall.  I know that I’ve used this verse relatively recently but it couldn’t be more appropriate,

 

Matthew 7:24-25

²⁴ “Therefore, everyone who hears these words of Mine and acts on them will be like a sensible man who built his house on the rock. ²⁵ The rain fell, the rivers rose, and the winds blew and pounded that house. Yet it didn’t collapse, because its foundation was on the rock.

Look at Me! (a FMF exercise on unknown)

Today’s fiveminutefriday.com prompt word is unknown and had me stumped at first.  We live in a hashtag society that promotes instant recognition for everything we do.  So many in the world constantly scream; “Look at me.” Does the world really need to stand up and take notice of because someone ordered a Taco Bell Grande?  I digress and will try to refocus because the word for today is unknown.

Before I worked myself up into a full on rant, I recalled a scene from the movie The Resurrection of Gavin Stone (one I can highly recommend).  In this scene, Gavin Stone, a former child star clinging to the glory of his youth who has been sentenced to community service at a local church for trashing a hotel, is helping in a ministry to repair cars for single moms.  The repaired car is in front of the repair shop and the woman who is to receive the car is overwhelmed.  Gavin encourages the mechanic who performed most of the work to go and receive the credit.  The mechanic replies, “We don’t want the credit.” to which Gavin says, “Hashtag, something I have never said to my agent.”  The mechanic character, played by  former pro-wrestler Shawn Michaels, wants to remain unknown.

As alien as that concept is in today’s world, it is refreshing when I see it demonstrated.  In the observance of Veteran’s Day this week, I also happened to catch a quick report on the memorial at the Tomb of the Unknowns, where unknown soldiers from different wars the U.S. has been involved are enshrined.  This memorial is guarded 24 hours a day 365 days a year regardless of the weather. We should rightly honor those men who made the ultimate sacrifice for our country without anyone knowing their names.  On that somber note, I realize that there are Unknowns who have played significant roles in my life.  Those folks who prayed for  five year old with an eye injury the doctor told would be blind in that eye.  Those who prayed for my safe travel the night I probably should have slid under that semi truck on my way back to Murray, Kentucky that rainy Thanksgiving night so many years ago.  There are so many prayer warriors who have interceded for me that I was not ever aware and may never meet this side of heaven.

Here is a song from the late ’70’s by David Meece  with a link that will explain it better than me.

David Meece – The Unknown Soldier 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V33ebtcX-l4

Lyrics

You see him on the campus
As he studies with his friends
They mean no harm, they laugh
And call him preacher now and then

His words are few, he saves them
‘Til he’s home and on his knees
That’s where he’s a warrior
And he fights to see them free

He’s the unknown soldier
The unsung hero, the brother on the street
He’s the unknown soldier
The holy warrior who will never sound retreat

He’s your unseen comrade
And his triumph will be sweet

He’s the unknown soldier

There’s been no bloody torture
No burning at the stake
There will be no published memoirs
No memorial for his sake

And no one calls him martyr
His blood has not been shed
Still in combat he’s been faithful
In the little things instead

He’s the unknown soldier
The unsung hero, the brother on the street
He’s the unknown soldier
The holy warrior who will never sound retreat

He’s your unseen comrade
And his triumph will be sweet
He’s the unknown soldier

I say thank you to all those unknown soldiers in my life.

Like I said at the beginning of this post, I was stuck on unknown and I have been all over the place today.  I hope if nothing else it may encourage you to reflect on the unknown soldiers who have waged war for you

James 5:16

 ¹⁶ Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, so that you may be healed. The urgent request of a righteous person is very powerful in its effect.

As always you can check out more blogs from Christian authors at fiveminuteFriday.com hosted by Kate Motaung.

An Answered Call

Today is Veteran’s Day and I want to take the opportunity to thank every veteran and active duty military personnel for your service and sacrifice. Thank you for your willingness to fill the gap to keep our country safe.  Thank you for answering the call of our nation to protect her.

I also want to thank one very special veteran to me, my Dad.  Yesterday would have been Dad’s 87th birthday so I think it’s rather appropriate to mention him specifically. Dad never served overseas but he was ready to do what was asked of him.  He was about to be deployed as a helicopter mechanic to Korea when he fractured his ankle.  Instead, he was sent to a base in North Carolina where he finished his service term.  God’s plans are often difficult to understand but always perfect.  Not going overseas gave Dad the opportunity to meet Mom and the rest, as they say, is history.  As thankful as I am for Dad’s military service, I am even more thankful that he answered the call to be a husband and father.  My brothers and I were so very fortunate to have a Godly father as an example.  He taught us a great work ethic and was still able to make family life a priority. There was never any doubt that Dad loved Mom and a part of him died with her.  Dad rarely missed any athletic or big event in my or my brother’s lives.  There were countless times he rushed home from a business trip to meet us at whatever ball field still in work clothes, tie and all.  He and Mom were our biggest cheerleaders.  More than once he would arrive home and join in a game of Horse using his patented hook shot.  Dad taught us a great lesson about loving our kids and it was spelled t-i-m-e.  After Mom passed, Dad had a renewed interest in his time in the military.  I’m so glad he had to opportunity to be honored when he visited the last base where he served as one of the few living members of his unit.  I was extremely proud when the Army honored him at his burial.  So. let me take another opportunity to honor Sargent George Dewey Thompson, Jr for answering his call.

Now I realize that Dad had his faults.  He was notorious for never stopping to ask for directions.  He may have been lost but according to him “He was making good time.”  I can’t count the times he would promise to stop at a restaurant that was just around the next corner only to arrive there and have him say, “They must have moved it.”  One of my favorite stories about Dad though was after my oldest brother had proposed to his now wife.  Dad treated the whole family to dinner at the Polaris restaurant in downtown Nashville.  The Polaris was a very fancy rotating restaurant that offered a spectacular view of the city.  They also featured waitresses costumed in rather short skirts and low cut tops.  After the waitress had returned with our drink orders and a tray with the salad course,  she asked Dad if he was ready for the salads (which consisted of lettuce wedges).  Dad was apparently distracted by her uniform and just replied, “Sure.”  Realizing that he didn’t really understand, she asked again if he was ready for the salad.  Dad sat back in his chair, smiled at her, and said, “Any time.”  I don’t know if Mom pinched him or kicked him under the table but then Dad stood up and said, “What do y’all have a salad bar somewhere?” We teased him about this for years but  Dad never admitted that he had been distracted by the waitress’s skimpy attire.

Dad wasn’t perfect but in a world where so many do not accept the responsibility to which they have been called, our entire family is so glad and fortunate that he did.  I salute you, once again, Sargent George Dewey Thompson Jr. for your service to our county and for your service as a loving husband, Godly father, and compassionate Grandfather and Great Grandfather.

Acts 13:22

²² After removing him, He raised up David as their king and testified about him: ‘I have found David the son of Jesse, a man loyal to Me,^[a] who will carry out all My will.’

Ezekiel 22:30

I searched for a man among them who would repair the wall and stand in the gap before Me on behalf of the land so that I might not destroy it, but I found no one.

The Real Thing (A FMF exercise on settle)

You don’t hear as much about it as we once did but at one time, a mighty war was waged over soft drinks. Many arguments have been raised by the proponents of each beverage extolling the virtues of their chosen drink. I tend to be Switzerland in this battle choosing Dr Pepper as my poison but if forced to choose between the two, I tend to come down more on the Coke side.
My Grandfather, Papa, was a staunch defender of the Pepsi brand.

When I was younger, we spent 2 weeks every summer visiting my Mom’s folks in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. We would help Papa in the hot Alabama sun in his yard and garden. Papa would invariably say, “Boys, I don’t know about you but I can use a cold drink.” My two brothers and I would pile in the car, no seat belts or car seats, for the couple of blocks trek to Haglar’s (an honest to goodness old time grocery store wood plank flooring and all).  We would head back to the cooler that had the coldest drinks in the world and Papa would tell us to pick out what we wanted.  Sometimes it was a strawberry soda, sometimes a Yahoo, and he didn’t even protest if we chose the bitter rival, Coke in the little bottle.  Papa, however, always chose Pepsi and it never failed to make him smile.

Fast forward quite a few years, my Grandmother had passed and Papa was living with my aunt.  A couple times a year, Papa would come stay with us in Tennessee for one or two weeks.  My Dad detoured after a business trip to bring Papa to our house.  They stopped for gas.  Papa said he was thirsty and could Dad bring him back a Pepsi.  This establishment fell firmly on the Coke front with even the Coke logo on their cups.  Dad explained his dilemma to the clerk so he offered to dispense a Coke from the fountain in a plain cup.  Several miles down the road, Dad asked Papa if he was enjoying his Pepsi.  Papa said it was OK but that “It ain’t no Pepsi but figured I’d just have to settle for what they had.”

Which brings me to today’s prompt word settle.  Sometimes we have to settle for something other than what we want because it’s either not available or too expensive or for varied other reasons.  In the grand scheme of things, Papa having to settle for a Coke instead of his “real thing” Pepsi, was not a real big deal.  On the other hand, sometimes the world is too quick to settle for cheap imitations rather than the real thing.  Jesus said “I am the way, the truth, and the life.”  Everything else is nothing more than settling for less than God designed.  No wonder the world is in such a mess.  Then again, even as a believer, I’m way too often ready to settle for what I think or want God and Jesus to be.  I’m far too willing to limit God to what I can picture.  The “real thing” is so much more that I can ever imagine.  He is not there to do my bidding, He wouldn’t be God if He did.  I’m reminded of a quote by Tirian, in C.S. Lewis’ The Last Battle, that couldn’t be any more true when I think like that…

Do you think I keep him in my wallet, fools?” said Tirian. “Who am I that I could make Aslan appear at my bidding? He’s not a tame lion.” 

As convenient as I might think a pocket Jesus would be, it would only be a shadow of the real thing.  When I settle for God and Jesus as anything else, I’m settling for something so much less than They are.

Exodus 3:14

God replied to Moses, “I AM WHO I AM. This is what you are to say to the Israelites: I AM has sent me to you.”

John 14:6

Jesus told him, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.

Mark 15:39

When the centurion, who was standing opposite Him, saw the way He breathed His last, he said, “This man really was God’s Son!

I have once again exceeded my five minute limit.  I get started on an idea and can’t quit until I finish it, so sorry. For more christian blogs like this check out fiveminutefriday.com hosted by Kate Motaung.

Tell Me When It’s Over

You unlock this door with the key of imagination. Beyond it is another dimension— a dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of mind. You’re moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas. You’ve just crossed over into the… not what you’re expecting but even scarier… It’s the Christmas Movie Zone.   There are between Hallmark, Netflix, the Lifetime Channel, and others, 80 new Christmas Movies.  That’s 160 hours of “new” Christmas cinema for a whopping 13% of the time between now and Christmas to overload on Christmas spirit.  If you allow for 8 hours of sleep each night, it climbs to over 19%.  This does not include the traditional standards that are holiday traditions. We usually start of the season with Planes, Trains, and Automobiles because it still breaks me up every time I watch it {Don’t judge me, it does you too even if you won’t admit it.) to get the season off to a good start.  I have to, at some point, see Clarence get his wings, and Buddy the Elf may make an appearance or two along with Ralphie and his Red Rider BB gun.  On top of all those, each of these stations show reruns of past year’s Christmas specials.  Hallmark even brags about hosting a Christmas Movie marathon. My youngest has apparently accepted the challenge and has been in training to compete in this Christmas endurance trial. She has us holding out cups of hot cocoa with tiny marshmallows as she trots through the kitchen during commercial breaks in her footie pajamas so she won’t break her rhythm.

She started out this weekend and probably needs to up her training regime because she fell asleep on one of the preliminary offers yesterday.  It amazes me that she could sleep through what can only be described as an instant Christmas classic of an economical “remake” of Home Alone, only the child is left at school and the bad guys are known as “The Ice Cream Bandits”.  No, I’m not making this up.  In last Monday’s post, I talked about how we used to change costumes and revisit the good houses on Halloween.  I’m pretty much convinced that’s what happens in The Christmas Movie Zone.  It’s the same story over and over just with different actors playing the parts and calling it something else Christmas cutesy.  I can hardly wait to see A Christmas to  Remember 2 because A Christmas to Remember was so memorable.  I’m not sure if I should catch A Gift to Remember to refresh my memory before viewing A Gift to Remember 2.  I promise, these titles are straight off a Christmas Movie schedule listing online.  I fear my mind may be slipping when I ask my daughter “Haven’t we seen this before?”   Only to have her reply something along the line of, “Don’t be silly, Daddy.  That was the Lifetime Channels of The Christmas I Can’t Forget.  This is Hallmark Channel’s version of The Christmas You Won’t Forget. See it’s way different.”  Being stuck in the Christmas Movie Zone, does make television viewing a little easier.  If one station is having technical difficulty, you can just switch to another one to pick up the story where it left off.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m definitely not a Scrooge or a Grinch about Christmas.  I absolutely love it.  I enjoy putting up and decorating the tree, hanging lights, picking out gifts, and just about everything else that goes with celebrating Christmas. My youngest has inherited my love of the Christmas holiday and has embraced it to even a greater extent so I guess I may be reaping what I’ve sowed.  As I said earlier, there are certain viewing traditions that I like to uphold each year.  George Bailey, Clark Griswold, The Santa Clause, Buddy the Elf and Rudolph are yearly participants on our Yule Time schedule but I fear I may hit the wall with my daughter’s dedication to participate in The Christmas Movie Marathon.  Would it really be cheating if I took a taxi and skipped part of the marathon if I promise to rejoin the race after Thanksgiving?  Christmas Kisses and Holiday Wishes may be destined to become a holiday classic but what velocity do I need to achieve to escape (Cue Twilight Zone music)  The Christmas Movie Zone? or is it like the Hotel California, “You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave.”

Hopefully I’ll still catch the Christmas spirit even if I don’t compete fully in the Christmas Movie Marathon and I hope to never forget what the holiday is really about.

Romans 8:19

¹⁹ For the creation eagerly waits with anticipation for God’s sons to be revealed.

 

Mr Irrelevant (a FMF exercise on last)

Another Friday has rolled in and another opportunity to write about a prompt word from fiveminuteFriday.com hosted by Kate Motaung. We are supposed to write for five minutes about the prompt word. I’ve been participating now for over six months and have yet to limit myself to five minutes. Today’s prompt word is last. I doubt I’ll keep it to five today either, but here goes.

Growing up I played a lot of backyard pick up games. I have 2 brothers, one older and one younger, who were both very gifted athletes. I was decent in some sports and maybe even considered good at others. When it came time to pick teams, I was never the first one picked. Very often, I would say a little prayer, “Don’t let me get picked last.”.  If it was one of my friends picking, I would mouth to them, “Pick me, pick me, please!”.  Despite my pleadings sometimes I was the last pick.  Even more humiliating was when you really weren’t picked at all.  The next to last person picking would say something along the lines of “We’ll take Jimmy, and you can have him.” I absolutely hated that feeling.

The NFL draft was held in Nashville this spring.  I usually don’t follow it closely but due to the fact that it was so close to home and that I was incapacitated recovering from a torn quad tendon injury and repair, I watched quite a bit of it when I wasn’t sleeping.  It was fascinating to watch the excitement and sometimes disappointment of the different fan bases as the picks were announced.  Much ballyhoo and hype was made over the number one selection.  The commentators would debate the value of the different selections.  There is also the distinction of being the last selection in the draft.  This individual receives the title of Mr Irrelevant,  not necessarily,  something to which you would aspire.

The Bible is full of Mr Irrelevants and Miss Irrelevants who would be the very last person you would pick to do the jobs that God had for them.  David was not even brought to Samuel when he was to anoint a new king because he was so young and unimpressive.  Moses and Paul were murderers and  most of the disciples were uneducated fishermen but God used them in incredible ways. As good a person as I think I am, when I’m forced to stop and look hard at myself, I realize that I’m pretty much  Mr Irrelevant. I’ve got no impressive statistics to increase my draft value.  Romans 3:23, tells me “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” so that includes me.  I’m not worthy to be picked by Him even as the last one but He not only picked me, He pursued me.  “Even while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”  It doesn’t make sense but God wanted me so much that He traded His most valuable asset to pick me along with anyone else who accepts Him.

Being so competitive, I still don’t like being picked last. It is, however, completely awesome to know, despite what the world may think,  that I will never be Mr Irrelevant to my Heavenly Father.

Phillipians 2

⁵ Make your own attitude that of Christ Jesus,⁶ who, existing in the form of God, did not consider equality with God

as something to be used for His own advantage.^[a]7 Instead He emptied Himself by assuming the form of a slave,
taking on the likeness of men. And when He had come as a man in His external form,
⁸ He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death—even to death on a cross.

 

You Got Anything Good?

It’s the week of Halloween and even though, we no longer have any Trick or Treaters living in our house, I still look forward to it. My wife, at one time, put the candy in a bowl in preparation for the big night several days prior only to discover that the treats didn’t make to Halloween night.  I assured her that I was only trying to protect our reputation in the neighborhood as a quality Trick or Treat stop that necessitated testing the quality and freshness of the treats we going to dispense.  I’ve stayed out of our treats so far this year but I’ve heard the Peanut M & Ms calling to me.  By the way, is it just me or is the measure of what constitutes fun getting smaller and smaller.  Three M &Ms are definitely not my idea of fun or even barely amusing.  Also, if I’m not me when I’m hungry then don’t just give me a whiff of chocolate, caramel, and peanuts, let me have enough Snickers to know that I’ve eaten something so I won’t have an identity crisis.

It used to be that one of us would go out with our kids and the other would stay at home to give out candy at our house. It was a real toss up. Stay home and pick out the best stuff we were handing out or go with the kids and scrounge what they would allow you to have.  We would have to wait until their sugar intake put them into a diabetic stupor so we could pry their grubby little hands off of their treasure trove of candy.  Finally, my wife and I could mine their bags for our favorite candies.  “I think I remember them saying that Reese cups are for losers so I’ll take those off their hands” was my wife’s rationalization for confiscating any of those.  While “I can’t remember if they hate plain or peanut M&Ms so why risk it.  I’ll just take both.” was my justification.  It wasn’t long before our kids began to doubt the security of us “watching over” their candy stash.

I always enjoyed our kid’s friends trick or treating at our house.  It was neat seeing the creativity of their costumes and figuring out who and sometimes what they were.  Now, we have the kids that come and play with Gertie visit us.  I hope we never become one of those houses that turns out the light and acts as if no one is at home so that kids don’t ring the door bell. When I was growing up and even during my kid’s time of trick or treating that was the determining factor when deciding if it was worth trying a house.  Sometimes you were surprised when someone answered at a darkened door but that was the exception rather than the rule. I got a notification on the neighborhood app requesting that we add our name to a treat map if we are planning to pass out candy.  On those rare occasions, I can remember trick or treating at houses where you actually got a full size candy bar.  Jackpot!  We would change costumes and hit that house again.  I’m not too sure that we completely fooled the inhabitants with our cowboy astronaut costumes.  On the even more rare occasions that this happened, I discouraged my kids from this practice unless I got a cut of the proceeds.  I can only imagine how we would have made out if we had a treat map.  How does the treat map work?  Will it let you comment on the quality and quantity of the treats from each house?  I may have to walk around with some of the neighbor kids in costume using my own candy GPS or charge kids a candy tariff for pointing out where the good stuff is located.

I don’t have any really good Halloween stories about my kids concerning the holiday.  Sherry, as usual, made some awesome creative costumes.  The only story that comes to mind is one year that I had to stay home with one of the kids that was sick.  Most of the younger trick or treaters had already visited our house and it was mostly older kids still making the rounds.  The door bell rang and three or four later teenage girls were standing on the porch.  All but one of the girls was in costume.  I asked each what they were as I handed out the goodies.  When I got to the girl dressed in regular clothes, I asked what she was supposed to be.  She replied, “I didn’t feel like dressing up” so I answered back, ” Well, I don’t feel like giving you any candy.”  Her friends gave her a hard time but I relented fearing we might be the brunt of a trick.  Good thing the treat map had not been invented yet because I’m sure she would have given us a negative review on Yelp.

These are  the only verses I could find mentioning trick and treat

 Isaiah 25

⁹ On that day it will be said,
“Look, this is our God;
we have waited for Him, and He has saved us.
This is the Lord; we have waited for Him.
Let us rejoice and be glad in His salvation.”
¹⁰ For the Lord’s power will rest on this mountain.

But Moab will be trampled in his place^[d]
as straw is trampled in a dung pile.
¹¹ He will spread out his arms in the middle of it,
as a swimmer spreads out his arms to swim.
His pride will be brought low,
along with the trickery of his hands.
¹² The high-walled fortress will be brought down,
thrown to the ground, to the dust.