Patron Saint of My Homeland

And bright G'morning to ye All!  Happy St. Paddy's Day.  Tis the day we honor our Irish heritage...and drink beer.  Today we remember the benefits of being Irish...and drink beer.  We give thanks for all the Irish influences ( like Colin Farrel)...and Drink beer! right? Well, I think there could be more to it.

Not only do I blog, but I read blogs.  It's a vicious circle I know, one fraught with misguided opinions and oft incorrect information, and that's just what I write...not to mention the extremely opinionated advice I receive from other blogs.  But, I found one that is quite good and can shed some light on the incipience of Saint Patrick's Day. This is from Donald Miller's Blog ( He wrote Blue Like Jazz, Into Painted Desserts, and his latest book A Million Miles In a Thousand Years):

Saint Patrick, for whom todays Catholic holiday is named, was not born Irish. His parents were Romano-British and deacons at the local church. At sixteen Patrick was kidnapped by Irish raiders and taken to Ireland as a slave. He escaped his captives, snuck aboard a ship and made his way back to Britain. When he returned to Britain he studied to be a priest, after which he decided to return to Ireland to preach the gospel to what was then a polytheistic culture. 

Saint Patrick was said to have used the shamrock to explain to the Irish people the doctrine of the Trinity. He spent thirty more years in Ireland and died on the 17th of March, 461. He is considered the principal missionary from Rome to the Irish and is celebrated as such on this day.

Today Saint Patricks day is celebrated around the world as a sort of tribute to the Irish and the culture of Ireland, a relatively small Island with a storied past and perhaps more storied characters within. It is, of course, widely known for its association with the drinking of beer. Saint Patricks day is the day in which the most alcohol is consumed by Americans. You can just see Saint Patrick now, can’t you, wandering into an American bar well after midnight, laying down on the floor next to a passed out college student, pointing at the paper shamrocks stapled to the ceiling, and explaining how much the Father loves the Son, and the Son loves the Father, and how the Holy Ghost is with us always, even on the floor of a pub.


Pretty Interseting Stuff, huh?  The link to his blog can be found HERE!

So when you see the Shamrock today, don't think Guinness, Jamison, and Harp, but rather think Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  Keep those "Irish Eye's a Smiling."

Regular Unleaded

I wonder if a lot of people loath stopping at the sketchy gas stations as they travel.  You never quite know what you are going to get.  It's almost a gamble  Will it smell like smoke, will they have more selections of beer than soft drinks, will the bathrooms be the kind that you are afraid to touch anything and feel it's safer to not wash your hands when you done "visiting." (you know those kind of places) It's almost a mini-adventure in and of itself.

I love stopping at these stations.  It's almost always a story, whether it's the attendant who was too busy to get off her cell phone that you didn't say one word to her as she rung you up and watched you leave, or the odd "Davenport" family with no less than 8 kids and two tired, frazzled looking parents trying to decide what chips and drinks are acceptable, mom screaming across the store for order and calm.  A circus of possibilities, not to mention the fun and state specific Chinese, mass produced crap that serves as a souvenir or a last minute forgotten present for that younger son/daughter.  And in Louisiana, be it north or south, the trinkets are always more interesting than normal. 

I remember, as a kid, always wanting and begging and pleading for my mom to stop at the Stuckeys between Monroe and Shreveport.  I mean it was less than a two hour drive and I was so allured with the gifts, souvenirs, burgers, and over all fun atmosphere I was always crushed when we had to hurry and get home.  My sisters and I would play with the toys, which evidently ended in one of them crying because of something I did (I was a bit sinister then).  But fun was always had and Stuckeys was always what we cried as we came near that stop on the highway.

That place has long since closed down, and I rarely stop at the stations anymore.  I'm always trying to get to my destination as quickly as possible, ready to get the adventure on. But traveling with a wife means I can't just pull over on the side of the road to pee anymore.  Now it means a 15 to 20 minutes stop, sometimes multiple to find the cleanest bathroom in that particular run-down gas station grouping. We browse, we buy, we embrace the mini-adventure and the wonderful subculture of gas station patrons.  So, next time you are traveling, and nearest tree is not an options, take heart and patience in being able to interact with those you wouldn't normally get the opportunity to visit with.  Smile, breath, and enjoy the wonders that society provide...our own, free urban zoo!

I'm turning in my card

So many times I sit down at this computer, load this blog template and begin to spew my thoughts.  I do this only to completely erase the drivel I've just written. Sometimes three, four, or more times I write a few sentences, a paragraph only to have it line the bottom of the virtual garbage can.  Thoughts possess my mind and I want to get them out, but when I do it sounds, to me, like literary "DUH!" At times I fight through the mental block, organize my thoughts, and other times I just give up and walk away with a blank screen silently judging me. And truth be told, I'm ok with that.

Today was one of those days, but I've decided perseverance is the path I will travel.  This morning I was listening to NPR's Morning Edition.  Nothing uncommon in my life.  I was drinking a cup of organic coffee we have delivered, out of a coffee mug specially purchased and painstakingly brought to me, made of fragile clay; I was enjoying the morning.  Then the story comes out of a bombing in Pakistan.  You think "wow, another bombing in Pakistan, another in the Middle East, another, another, another."  This is where my anguish surfaced.  20 dead, by a car bomb.  Not directed at soldiers, or those who choose to be in the thick of these political struggles.  Civilians, going about their business to school, to work, to the market, to run down to the corner to get a small container of milk so a loved one can have cereal or a perfect cup of coffee. 

The sad part about this is no matter what portion of the area you are in, no matter what country of the Middle East you live, the bombings are every day and natural.  As natural as us getting angry at the task of facing traffic or because the grocery is out of our favorite vegetable, we have to deal with this.  However, these don't end in the senseless death of us, or worse, our loved ones.  And it doesn't stop.  We seem so distant from it, but we are humans, whether we be Christians, Muslims, Hindu, or Sun Worshipers, we share the bond of being the same.

One thing I've learned from my limited travel and mission work is a big lesson on Love.  We can think our love, American love, Christian Love, Whatever love is better because of who we are.  We can find ourselves knowing we love our families more because we can allow for them to eat all day every day,  for them to wear the latest and greatest.  Because of this we obviously love better than any person not like us, right?  Love is the same no matter where you go.  No matter how much money you make, or the health care you are provided.  A mother's love is the same in Shreveport as it is in the mountains of Haiti.

You can look at your Love ones and say no one loves like I do, but we all know that's not true.  The ability to love, the common thread that unites us to everyone.  The one corner puzzle piece upon which we can find commonality.  When I hear of these bombings or disasters ending in the loss of life, I can't help but feel a part of my love has been extinguished.  I'll never know these people, I'll never been anything more to them than a random statistic or example of a selfish American, but that doesn't break the connection we all share with each other. 

It's been said God is Love.  That I can digest, I can believe.  Love is everywhere, so God is everywhere, right?  In our friends, in our enemies, in our competition?  In the faces of those who believe in God and in those who openly deny him. Love abounds. 

This drivel doesn't leave us with answers, more than likely more questions and uncertainties.  But really, what do we hope to solve by blogging. 

Love has a sister (for another day I guess).  Love's sister is Peace.

Peace and Love everyone!

385 Yards

385 Yards.  Two-tenths of a mile.  The last hurdle between finishing the race and falling short.  A mere 385 yards.  The most glorious .2 mile there every is, was, and will be...for me at least.  I can safely say I have completed the marathon, and I am done with them.  One and Done!  But, I can confidently join the ranks of the less than 1% of the Population that has completed the full 26.2 miles!  

Two weekends ago, Feb 13th, I and a friend ran the Rock N Roll, Mardi Gras Marathon in New Orleans, LA.  We had been training since October for this one day, this one race.  Elizabeth and another friend were running the half-marathon too. The day had arrived, and we woke up early, ate our meager race breakfast and walked the mile and a half to the race start.  I was nervous, I had been nervous all weekend, all week actually.  I was afraid of how my body would hold up to running for that distance, that amount of time. However, I didn't have time to worry, because, before I knew it, the race had begun and we were on our way!

The first five miles were a breeze, the Core four, all of us that trained hard together, got to run together.  The four of us were Haley Young, Emily Bankston, Elizabeth, and Me.  We chatted we looked around at the houses and the people, and we generally had a great time.  Just another run like we had done at home, but flat and people cheering us on.  So, easier, more energy, lots of fun.  At mile 5 the half marathons split off and the marathons were on our own.  Haley and I and a much, much thinner crowd, turned off for 21.2 more miles.  I was doing great, still excited, still in good shape, just peachy.  At mile 8 we saw Sarah, Mom, and an Anna Lynn.  There were in Audubon Park.  A lovely place to run and even better with family cheering us on.  That was one of the highlights of the race for me.  By mile 14 we were heading into the French Quarter.  I was trucking along just fine, good pace, good attitude, good run.  We take a turn, North, to run up Esplanade St.  This street marks the Eastern border of the Quarter.  This long, bumpy, potholey, street, takes us up to the park where the end is located.  I'm running fine, Haley has pushed through her wall and is running fine.  We pass mile 18 and we see him.

 

Well, we see his feet and his legs, and the 7 people around him administering CPR and call for the police.   A runner had collapse, obviously a man, in the middle of this road and was fighting for his life.  This took the wind out of me.  This got in my head and made the next 8 miles crazy hard.  Thankfully Haley was there to push me through my wall and help me finish.  At mile 22 we ran up on the Lake Ponchatoula.  This was beautiful and for about two miles we ran beside this gorgeous lake.  

Core 4 Before the Race

At this point I hurt,  a dull pain in my body, if I stop my knee hurts too bad to start again, so I know I must finish and finish strong.  I struggle through till mile 24 where my buddy Josh and my beautiful bride are there to meet us and run with us the last few miles to keep our spirits high.  Josh had been on the course in different spots to give support and cheer us on.  Eliz had finished her race and then come back to run more miles with us to help us out.  Gosh I love her!  They were able to carry us to the last bit, the last 385 yards, .2 miles where they funneled all the runners to the finish line.  This last little bit was both a huge relief and the hardest part of the race.  My mind had adapted the mantra of Dora from "Finding Nemo."  Where she would sing "Just keep swimming..."  mine was "Just keep running, Just keep running..."  This little bit plus the opportunity to not run, pulled me through the end to the finish line. 

After I crossed the finish line, the next few minutes were a blur, water was thrust into my hand, a medal was thrown on my neck, a piece of foil/space blanket was wrapped around me.  Fruit and snacks were stuffed in my hands and pocket.  I went to a lady at a table of orange fruit cups.  She handed me one.  I looked at it, looked at her and asked if she could open it.  When she did I took the whole cup down like a shot of liquor, fruit and juice all.  Tunnel vision had set in and I was just walking it off.  Fortunately my buddy Josh was there to guide me to my friends and family.  I was able to hug Eliz and finally settle in to the realization of my accomplishment.  

I was very proud of all of us.  We spent the afternoon and evening "enjoying" ourselves in New Orleans.  There is so much more that could be said, so much more that can be told, but some things are best told in person.  I will say, my legs hurt for four days afterward, and the day after it took me more than one try to get up from a seated position.  Would I do it again?  I don't know, probably not.  Was it Worth it?  Absolutely!

The Core Four, "David and The Divas"

Precious Eliz after she Finished

All of us who ran the race that day.

Bound for the Mother Land

Well, it's official.  Eliz and I accepted and offer to go to South Africa to take part in Double S Ministries, "Fill the Container" project for Phumzille Park!  It's pretty exciting knowing that in June, we will be Leaving on a Jet Plane bound for Africa, the dark Continent.  I haven't told my family, so them reading this will be the confirmation that we are going...Surprise! 

We are excited about it, but now comes the task of buying airfare.  So if you know anyone who has an extra 4 grand lying around, send them my way.  I'm sure God will provide. This is the same group/people Eliz went with back in '08 when we were married.  She talks fondly of the trip and I've had the opportunity to meet the people who live in Africa, so I'm really excited to go and experience this with her and my new friends. 

Just about a week longer of gathering stuff for the container.  You can still get you goodies in the box, just let me know. 

Phumzille Park Container Project

Container Project

In the first year Eliz and I were married, she went to South Africa for two weeks.  This was a hard two weeks for us as she and I were in different countries, in different hemisphere, in different seasons.  While I was wasting away in the Louisiana heat, She was freezing in the South African Winter.  She was down there, on a mission trip, with The Double S Ministries (Sowing Seeds).  This group is comprised of some of her family friends from her home church in Mansfield, LA. 

They had the opportunity to do many things, one specifically in a very impoverished area called Phumzille Park.  This area is a shanty town.  Many, up to 3,000, South African families live here with little less than tarp and stick constructions for homes.  The have very little and are not afforded the benefits of running water and schools for their children.  This is where the Ministry has come to help.

As of now, they have acquired a Container, one that you would see packed with goods and put on a ship.  They have decided this would be a great mobile class room.  If it had to be moved, it could easily be done and the children's school could continue to go with them.  Here's the catch....It's just as expensive to send the container to Africa full as it is to send it empty.  This is where We become the Hands and Feet of Jesus!

They are asking for all kinds of things to stuff that container full to the brim.  They have enough school supplies, but are asking for any other items that could make the lives of those in the Park easier.  5 Gallon buckets for water, Seeds to grow flower/vegetables, clothes, shoes, any thing you can think of and can spare.  New underwear and New Bras are a big hit for those who have always had to use second hand dedicates. 

We have until the first part of March to collect as many items as we can.  Then they get stuffed in the container and shipped out!  The awesome news is Eliz and I are considering going to South Africa June 3rd to June 10th to meet the container there and help to distribute the goods! This will be a wonderful experience for us, if we are blessed enough to go, we will have to start raising funds for our travels too.  But, for now, our focus is on filling the container. 

If you feel lead to contribute, AWESOME!  I can come by and pick up anything you have and are willing to spare, I'll even travel a good distance to do so.  If you just feel lead to pray for this, AWESOME!  Thank you so much for what you can and will do for the Body of Christ.  
FOR MORE INFORMATION

MLK Parade

For the first time EVER, my company gave us Dr. Martin Luther King Day off.  They closed down the office and we were able to do as we please that day.  I love a three day weekend.  I can't remember if/when I've ever had that day off.  I know in college, at Centenary, I still had class.  That's what happens when you go to a 99% white private school.  Now they get the day off, but that took some conjoling.  High School was probably the last time I didn't have to go to school or work on MLK day.  That's been over 14 years.

So, on my much appreciated day-off, I'd like to tell you I slept late, watched movies, and cleaned house...well that's not true.  Instead I helped taking a bunch of inner city kidos to the MLK Parade in Downtown Shreveport.  I have to say, selfishly, I was pretty excited to go to the parade myself.  Having never been to a MLK parade...or any festivities, I was stoked to get to participate.  The Common Ground Community, also know as the Brite House, is a non-specific church affiliated community that serves the Cedar Grove Neighborhood.  It is comprised of many members of the community, churches, and the city.  Young and Old can come by and get clothes, a hot meal, and a food bag to last until the next chance to get more.  It's been a blessing to them and to me.

The kids where excited to go, we grilled hot dogs and hambugers downtown after the parade and gave food to the kids and to any other people that wanted some.  There was a homeless man than must have piled up three plates, eaten them, and then took one more to go.  It was a great time with some awesome floats and some great marching bands.  I think I'll have to go again next year too!

(the pics didn't load...if google keeps this up, I'll just transfer my blog somewhere else)

The Next 5 Years

I'm glad I'm not one for New Years Resolutions...cause I'm sure if I was, it would include blogging more.  And as you can tell my participation in this has decreased over the last few months.  I guess getting busy and having this blog for recreational purposes lends to a certain relaxation in updates.

Though I don't have a specific New Years Resolutions I am thinking of a five year plan/goal.  Nothing interesting like scaling a mountain or running marathon (which I am doing in a month). No, this is more along the lines of a "fill you head with stuff" plan.  I came across the Modern Library's 100 Best Novels online list a couple of days ago and resolved to better my self in the category of literature. There are two lists,  a Board's List of 100 and a Reader's List of 100.  So that makes 200 books in my near to distant future.  Fortunately the list does criss-cross which decreases the number...but not by much.  Also I have read some already, but only a few, and in some cases it's been so long that I owe it to myself and the great authors to read it again.  I have my work cut out for me.

The situation is, I don't want to be tied down to one list for the next 190 or so novels...So I'm working around this.  I'm alternating a list novel with one of my own choosing.  This way I can still read the fantasy, economy, and autobiographies I enjoy intermingled with the 100 best (which is really 200).  Needless to say, I'll be pretty full up on books for the next half decade, at least.  We are looking at around 390 books.  Say it takes me two weeks per book ( a rough estimate), that's approx 195 week or 3.75 years, so lets bump that up to 4 years.  But, I know me, and I tend to get lackadaisical at times, So I'll give myself a 1 year cushion.  5 years...that's my goal/plan.  I can do that.

Now, I haven't started yet.  I'm finishing up another book series, one that should be done by tomorrow afternoon.  So, Hopefully I will start my newest "task" on Tuesday.  This is where I need some help.  I need to know which book to start.  The other portion of this is I'm not going to buy these books.  I will beg, steal, or borrow...which equates to ask, borrow, and rent from library, but no purchasing.  This is where you come it.  Scan the list, see if you have these books on hand and make a pile for me.  I'll come pick them up for you.  That requests leads into the second one.  I need to know which book to start reading first.  Any Ideas, suggestions?  I'm all ears, or eyes as it would be.  Maybe I should spin this into a reason to buy an Ipad, a digital reader to store my 200 novels, hmmm.  A great way to save space.  The ideas and benefits are already flowing...

Modern Library's 100 Best Novels

So, what is your suggestion of the novel to start with?  Send me a comment and let me know.  Also, if you have one of these novels I can borrow, that would be GREAT!  Happy Reading to you.

Free Christmas Update to come...sneak peak, it was awesome.  But, until then here's some food for thought for the new year. 



Handbook for Life… 2011



Check back later for more on Free Christmas, Oklahoma, and 2011.

Haiti Article for Church Newsletter

The week after we returned home for Haiti I was asked to write an article for the Church Newsletter.  This was to explain what we did and how our church helped and the future of our church with the Dasmas community.  I thought I would share that with my blog peeps.

“Surely the Presence of the Lord is in this Place.” This song stuck in my head as I boarded the plane to leave the tropical island of Haiti.  For weeks prior to our trip we had been bombarded by news releases, personal testimonies, and fears of our safety and health. Each one of these comments made our purpose and willingness to help all the more resolute.  Prayers poured in and support came from the most unlikely places.  We did make a difference.

 “I can feel His mighty power and His Grace.” We jumped from the back of the truck that took us over mountains, through rivers, and around a nation brimming with people.  We had arrived in Dasmas, our home for the next five days.  The people of the village greeted us to our home away from home; all wondering who were these “Blancs.”  Who were these people and what brought them to a place with no electricity and no running water?  What was their mission? Our job of showing God’s love and being the Hands and Feet began!

“I can hear the brush of Angel’s wings.” Up early every morning, the day’s work had begun.  Our jobs were set before us.  Rebuilding the roof, loving the kids, getting to know the adults, and even joining in a soccer game or two.  We became one with the community.  Regular faces greeted us each day and language was no barrier.  We were not outsiders, but regular members of the village family.  We knew them by name and they called us by name. 

“I can see glory on each face.”  I had been told the Haitians were a beautiful people; a people of strength despite all the hardships that came their way.  Truer words were never spoken.  When they smiled, their whole face lit with the joy of the moment.  Their eyes danced with the delight of the day. The children of the orphanage we visited surrounded us longing for a simple touch, an expression of love.  I’m sad to say there were not enough of us to go around even when we each had three or four children hugging/hanging on us at once, but we offered the love of Christ with all our hearts to everyone we met.  As we left, we experienced God’s glory in the faces of the little children. Reluctant to leave, but warmed by a reunion in our future.

“Surely the Presence of the Lord is in this Place.”  I long for the day when my church family can return to my family of Dasmas.  For the time when we can see the children run to us and return the pleasant smile of the preacher’s wife, who always guarded us.  I know Grace Community made a difference in the lives of the people, and I know there is so much more to give.  This is just the beginning of bringing the presence of the Lord to God’s Holy place, and I beam with pride and love to know you all had a hand it in.  Thank you, or as we say in Creole “Mési Anpil” for truly paving the way so our young adult mission team and our church could continue living as God’s great messengers in the world.

 

I got a text message from a buddy of mine this past weekend.  He went with us to Haiti, his first time out of the country.  His text said "It's kinda crazy, but I miss Haiti."  I assured him it was not crazy at all and in fact, I too missed Haiti.  It's just a place that can grab hold of you.