I feel sorta streaky in my blogging, but lately it's not because I've felt uninspired, it's more like I've felt immovable. The more and more I delve into Christianity and theology and Biblical truths, the more these two things happen:
1) I feel so utterly disgusting the closer I move to the Lord. And yet I know that one foot must go in front of the other, inching my way to the throne.
2) The heavier the weight.
The second one has loomed over my heart and mind for the last few weeks, circling like a vulture over its prey. As depressing as the thought is that I have a charge to remain holy as He is holy that is totally and completely impossible for me to keep...it is even more depressing that I have missed by so much that the world is a worse place because of it.
If you are reading this, don't kill yourself just yet, it gets better. The good news is this: Jesus Christ came to die so that our impossible mission would be His work on the cross. The closer I get the dirtier I am, and the more I dig the greater the pressure. This pressure is natural in light of our calling, but the words, "my yoke is easy, my burden is light" come rushing to mind. How so?
Well, in my mind this is how it works. We struggle and fight in our sin trying not to do it by relying in our own will and flesh to resist but we always cave...and yet Jesus says it's easy? I think he means this. Let Him help, rely on the Spirit, we are strong enough to do nothing, but in our weakness His strength is made perfect. For years we have battled and battled maybe some wicked thoughts, or addictions hoping that this will be the time that we are over it...but it's not our battle. God says give me the sword and take my hand, I will lead you beside still waters. I will lay you down in green pastures, it will be easy for you if you let ME do it, instead of trying to do it yourself.
Help me Lord, this is my deepest regret...that in my pride I for so long have relied on myself to defeat darkness. Help me...
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Josh Hamilton
I read this story today on ESPN.com. It's by one of my favorite analysts, Peter Gammons. He writes about last night's home run derby where national inspiration Josh Hamilton belted 28 home runs in the first round (unheard of) and an entire city/nation fell in love with him. Hoping, pulling, believing that the miracle round would never end.
Enjoy...
Hamilton an inspiration in so many ways
Tuesday, July 15, 2008 Print Entry
NEW YORK -- One of the best things about baseball is that someone else comes along and recreates being the hero. Out of the embers of the Black Sox scandal came Babe Ruth. As a nation regrouped between World War II and the Korean War, Jackie Robinson bravely changed the face of sports and American society.
After the strike that canceled the 1994 World Series and led to the coldest winter, along came Cal Ripken, the dignity and might of the Joe Torre/Derek Jeter/Mariano Rivera Yankees, and then the summer of '98 with Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa. And when that entire era went to black and the waste depository of the BALCO and aging clinics, Jose Canseco and gopher slimeballs reached the desk of George Mitchell and millions wondered if they could ever trust the sport again. There were 55,000 people at Yankee Stadium on Monday night -- most of whom knew less about Josh Hamilton than Darrell Rasner -- chanting Hamilton's name and rooting for a new hero.
Every revelation about Roger Clemens' past and every "collusion" noise that comes out of some parrot's beak has emphasized the need to move forward. That is why no team has signed Barry Bonds, who can still impact any lineup -- owners and general managers understandably don't want to talk about the past. They want to try to move on into an era with drug testing, in whatever form the morphed sport takes.
Two months ago, a general manager said we are watching the unfurling of two dramas we have never before seen in our lifetime, and may never see again. One is Rick Ankiel, who has played less than two years as a position player and is so good a center fielder and everyday player that he certainly could have been here for the All-Star Game, what with 20 homers, 50 RBIs, an .880 OPS and the defensive show he has put on in center field. To overcome his pitching nightmare of the 2000 playoffs, then after six years to become a hitter, and then overcome a blown-out knee … few players are better inspiration for the capacity to never back down or give up.
By now, Hamilton's story of overcoming demons is two blocks from Hollywood. Oh, it's easy to give it a Nancy Reagan "he made a choice" and so on and so on and so on and so on, but the fact is that millions of people in this country get addicted to drugs and ruin their lives. Hamilton beat his demons and is a hero for millions trying to fight back. Steve Buckley wrote about one such person in this morning's Boston Herald, a pitcher from Peabody, Mass., named Jeff Allison, a one-time Marlins No. 1 draft pick whose life landed in the breakdown lane, out of baseball; he nearly died. A month ago, Allison made the Florida State League All-Star team, and while his comeback is a work in progress, he is pitching and living and succeeding, and when Buckley talked to him about Hamilton, Allison credited Hamilton with being his role model and inspiration.
Long after Yankee Stadium had emptied Monday night, Hamilton sat in front of his locker, answering to everything past and present and future. Told about Allison's story, Hamilton said, "I have heard of him, I'd like to be in touch. I hope I meet him. I hope I hit against him one day."
Our heroes can be flawed. The Babe certainly was. Hamilton never stops reminding us that he, too, is flawed and that he's not ashamed to admit it and never will stop fighting.
Josh Hamilton turned the page in his life, and Monday night he helped baseball begin the long, dry healing process of turning the page on the Dark Ages.
Baseball is not about corporate boxes and extracting licensing pennies from poor kids or taxpayer dollars donated to construct ballparks to help billionaires make millions. It is about Babe Ruth changing the sports culture, Jackie Robinson changing America and Cal Ripken changing lives. Baseball has always been able to turn the page because of someone and something always grew up out of the rubble, and Josh Hamilton began the process of turning the page on Monday night.
It is unbelievable what he has done, and now the nation knows it. Hamilton matters and when we saw his friends like Milton Bradley, Ian Kinsler and Michael Young embrace the moment and the future, we saw the awe and the appreciation in their eyes.
These are not the best of times in America, but we look at baseball and see Ankiel. We see what Jose Reyes and Hanley Ramirez have overcome to reach stardom. We see an Athletics pitcher named Brad Ziegler come back from two fractured skulls and take a run at the record for most shutout innings to begin a career. And then we watch 55,000 New Yorkers standing and chanting Josh Hamilton's name. We are reminded that baseball can help us remember what we stand for, not against, what we believe, not what we fear, and that while we learn from the past, what we all want is to open the door to the future.
Peter Gammons
What a great story. This is why I love baseball :D God Bless Josh Hamilton, possibly God's spokesperson to Major League Baseball. A depraved and desolate sport spiritually, I pray that his impact will be larger than bomb dropping heroics...although it is fun to watch.
Enjoy...
Hamilton an inspiration in so many ways
Tuesday, July 15, 2008 Print Entry
NEW YORK -- One of the best things about baseball is that someone else comes along and recreates being the hero. Out of the embers of the Black Sox scandal came Babe Ruth. As a nation regrouped between World War II and the Korean War, Jackie Robinson bravely changed the face of sports and American society.
After the strike that canceled the 1994 World Series and led to the coldest winter, along came Cal Ripken, the dignity and might of the Joe Torre/Derek Jeter/Mariano Rivera Yankees, and then the summer of '98 with Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa. And when that entire era went to black and the waste depository of the BALCO and aging clinics, Jose Canseco and gopher slimeballs reached the desk of George Mitchell and millions wondered if they could ever trust the sport again. There were 55,000 people at Yankee Stadium on Monday night -- most of whom knew less about Josh Hamilton than Darrell Rasner -- chanting Hamilton's name and rooting for a new hero.
Every revelation about Roger Clemens' past and every "collusion" noise that comes out of some parrot's beak has emphasized the need to move forward. That is why no team has signed Barry Bonds, who can still impact any lineup -- owners and general managers understandably don't want to talk about the past. They want to try to move on into an era with drug testing, in whatever form the morphed sport takes.
Two months ago, a general manager said we are watching the unfurling of two dramas we have never before seen in our lifetime, and may never see again. One is Rick Ankiel, who has played less than two years as a position player and is so good a center fielder and everyday player that he certainly could have been here for the All-Star Game, what with 20 homers, 50 RBIs, an .880 OPS and the defensive show he has put on in center field. To overcome his pitching nightmare of the 2000 playoffs, then after six years to become a hitter, and then overcome a blown-out knee … few players are better inspiration for the capacity to never back down or give up.
By now, Hamilton's story of overcoming demons is two blocks from Hollywood. Oh, it's easy to give it a Nancy Reagan "he made a choice" and so on and so on and so on and so on, but the fact is that millions of people in this country get addicted to drugs and ruin their lives. Hamilton beat his demons and is a hero for millions trying to fight back. Steve Buckley wrote about one such person in this morning's Boston Herald, a pitcher from Peabody, Mass., named Jeff Allison, a one-time Marlins No. 1 draft pick whose life landed in the breakdown lane, out of baseball; he nearly died. A month ago, Allison made the Florida State League All-Star team, and while his comeback is a work in progress, he is pitching and living and succeeding, and when Buckley talked to him about Hamilton, Allison credited Hamilton with being his role model and inspiration.
Long after Yankee Stadium had emptied Monday night, Hamilton sat in front of his locker, answering to everything past and present and future. Told about Allison's story, Hamilton said, "I have heard of him, I'd like to be in touch. I hope I meet him. I hope I hit against him one day."
Our heroes can be flawed. The Babe certainly was. Hamilton never stops reminding us that he, too, is flawed and that he's not ashamed to admit it and never will stop fighting.
Josh Hamilton turned the page in his life, and Monday night he helped baseball begin the long, dry healing process of turning the page on the Dark Ages.
Baseball is not about corporate boxes and extracting licensing pennies from poor kids or taxpayer dollars donated to construct ballparks to help billionaires make millions. It is about Babe Ruth changing the sports culture, Jackie Robinson changing America and Cal Ripken changing lives. Baseball has always been able to turn the page because of someone and something always grew up out of the rubble, and Josh Hamilton began the process of turning the page on Monday night.
It is unbelievable what he has done, and now the nation knows it. Hamilton matters and when we saw his friends like Milton Bradley, Ian Kinsler and Michael Young embrace the moment and the future, we saw the awe and the appreciation in their eyes.
These are not the best of times in America, but we look at baseball and see Ankiel. We see what Jose Reyes and Hanley Ramirez have overcome to reach stardom. We see an Athletics pitcher named Brad Ziegler come back from two fractured skulls and take a run at the record for most shutout innings to begin a career. And then we watch 55,000 New Yorkers standing and chanting Josh Hamilton's name. We are reminded that baseball can help us remember what we stand for, not against, what we believe, not what we fear, and that while we learn from the past, what we all want is to open the door to the future.
Peter Gammons
What a great story. This is why I love baseball :D God Bless Josh Hamilton, possibly God's spokesperson to Major League Baseball. A depraved and desolate sport spiritually, I pray that his impact will be larger than bomb dropping heroics...although it is fun to watch.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
These colors don't run
No, not we Frenchie, us!!
Sorry, random outbursts are always fun. So I decided to unveil a little about the reason I love the 4th of July so very much. Some of you are probably thinking, "I didn't even know he loved the 4th of July." Well, I do...and for the three of you reading this, here's why...
Growing up a military kid is something else. You spend a lot of time with your mom, friend's moms, and random patriotic acts. I still remember the summer before I moved to Washington, my dad was deployed (as usual) and my sister was with my grandparents. My mom and I were desperate to see some fireworks so we drove out to the coliseum in Montgomery, AL to watch a show. As an eight year old, seeing massive fireworks lighting up the dark blue sky while listening to the Star Spangled Banner, America the Beautiful, etc., it's a pretty cool feeling. For some reason I found myself to be more vulnerable and transparent than I ever had been at that moment in time. As the cracks pops and booms burst before my eyes the reason for the holiday struck a chord with me. I saw vividly the people who had given their lives for our country, the families that had gone without a father or mother, daughter or son, sister or brother through the holidays so they could protect us collectively. I really started to comprehend the weight of freedom. I began to see what the fireworks were really about.
So as I've grown up the 4th has been randomly emotional for me. Whether I'm in Spokane watching a show, sitting on a random person's back porch alone in the dark, watching some of my crazy friends set their hair on fire, or with somebody I care about...the 4th has some deep sentimental meaning...I can't really describe it, I think you just have to experience it.
So, 4 days late and to a very small crowd...thanks for your service. Air Force, Army, Marines, Navy, Coast Guard, Fireman, etc...thank you. We appreciate it and although we may not act like it at times, we value our freedom. May God watch over you all...
Sorry, random outbursts are always fun. So I decided to unveil a little about the reason I love the 4th of July so very much. Some of you are probably thinking, "I didn't even know he loved the 4th of July." Well, I do...and for the three of you reading this, here's why...
Growing up a military kid is something else. You spend a lot of time with your mom, friend's moms, and random patriotic acts. I still remember the summer before I moved to Washington, my dad was deployed (as usual) and my sister was with my grandparents. My mom and I were desperate to see some fireworks so we drove out to the coliseum in Montgomery, AL to watch a show. As an eight year old, seeing massive fireworks lighting up the dark blue sky while listening to the Star Spangled Banner, America the Beautiful, etc., it's a pretty cool feeling. For some reason I found myself to be more vulnerable and transparent than I ever had been at that moment in time. As the cracks pops and booms burst before my eyes the reason for the holiday struck a chord with me. I saw vividly the people who had given their lives for our country, the families that had gone without a father or mother, daughter or son, sister or brother through the holidays so they could protect us collectively. I really started to comprehend the weight of freedom. I began to see what the fireworks were really about.
So as I've grown up the 4th has been randomly emotional for me. Whether I'm in Spokane watching a show, sitting on a random person's back porch alone in the dark, watching some of my crazy friends set their hair on fire, or with somebody I care about...the 4th has some deep sentimental meaning...I can't really describe it, I think you just have to experience it.
So, 4 days late and to a very small crowd...thanks for your service. Air Force, Army, Marines, Navy, Coast Guard, Fireman, etc...thank you. We appreciate it and although we may not act like it at times, we value our freedom. May God watch over you all...
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Hoopfest
Well another year of Hoopfest has come and gone and I am without my fifth champions shirt. An update of our team: Three of us played terrible and Perez dominated which all in all accounted for us going 2-2. But, it was record setting hot, beautiful out, and as always good to see my friends.
For those of you who don't know Hoopfest is the biggest 3 on 3 tournament in the world. This year it starred 6,400 teams, and 25,000 players. It is in Spokane, Washington the last weekend of June every year, and is quite literally my very favorite weekend. It is what I look forward to most with each year as I get a break to go home, visit with family and friends, enjoy the weather, and eat a ton. I have become less and less bitter as the years pass over losses, which is a sign of maturity hopefully. It always hurts worse when you lost though, let me tell you (there will be more on that thought later).
But, all in all, that weekend lived up to the hype. I got to eat, and of course see some of my favorite people. The Gamble house did not reach the expected capacity, but it did fill more than the normal with 6 bodies scattered about in the wonderful air conditioning. In any case, I had a wonderful and informative conversation with my good friend Andrew. Who, ironically, is probably the most intelligent person I know. I say ironically because he chose not to get a high school diploma, and as a grown man his knowledge in just about every field far outweighs anything I can muster (along with most of the people around me). I enjoy talking with him though, it is incredibly stimulating (intellectually, perverts). I also got to see a friend from 6th grade, Jason Crigger...who started my addiction to Hoopfest. Coupled with spending a week and a half with my wonderful parents, partaking in a perfect handshake, and seeing all of my favorite people on this earth, I cannot complain.
So, I conclude with a sign located above the dining room table in my Mama's house...Good food, good friends, good times...I cannot complain.
For those of you who don't know Hoopfest is the biggest 3 on 3 tournament in the world. This year it starred 6,400 teams, and 25,000 players. It is in Spokane, Washington the last weekend of June every year, and is quite literally my very favorite weekend. It is what I look forward to most with each year as I get a break to go home, visit with family and friends, enjoy the weather, and eat a ton. I have become less and less bitter as the years pass over losses, which is a sign of maturity hopefully. It always hurts worse when you lost though, let me tell you (there will be more on that thought later).
But, all in all, that weekend lived up to the hype. I got to eat, and of course see some of my favorite people. The Gamble house did not reach the expected capacity, but it did fill more than the normal with 6 bodies scattered about in the wonderful air conditioning. In any case, I had a wonderful and informative conversation with my good friend Andrew. Who, ironically, is probably the most intelligent person I know. I say ironically because he chose not to get a high school diploma, and as a grown man his knowledge in just about every field far outweighs anything I can muster (along with most of the people around me). I enjoy talking with him though, it is incredibly stimulating (intellectually, perverts). I also got to see a friend from 6th grade, Jason Crigger...who started my addiction to Hoopfest. Coupled with spending a week and a half with my wonderful parents, partaking in a perfect handshake, and seeing all of my favorite people on this earth, I cannot complain.
So, I conclude with a sign located above the dining room table in my Mama's house...Good food, good friends, good times...I cannot complain.
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