The Ride

Tuesday, after school, we were in my office. My extracycle was in there, as well as Joe’s bike. He begged to ride home, could we both ride together. I had my doubts. There are three long hills (not steep, just long) and Joe’s bike doesn’t have gears. But I thought, ok, we’ll see. It was Joe’s first time to do more than go around a block, ride in the church lot, etc. So we walked across Limestone and headed down Arceme. Well, that was the first hill, right as he got moving. He was so frustrated, really taking it out on himself. I calmed him down and we walked to the top of the hill and rode down. But then Parkview is more of the same, a hill right as you get started after we walked across Bryan. But he got it and he had those little legs working. Brandon, Joe’s uncle, is fond of pointing out that when little kids walk or climb stairs, they are really strong—stairs for a four-year old is like us stepping repeatedly onto a truck tailgate, he says, aptly.

Well, Joe made it, and he made it up the hill on Highland Park. It was really cool.

I’ll try not to ramble on about how bikes are such elegant pieces of technology, so simple, such a human pace to them. And I won’t let that get me started on how musical instruments are such elegant pieces of technology, how as Mike Cecil says, “Bluegrass is the people’s music”—no amps, no drums, just open up a case anyone can carry and play.

And did I mention that last night Joseph was strumming the guitar and among the many strange noises coming from many attempts at putting fingers down on the fretboard, one of them was E-minor?

The Ride

Tuesday, after school, we were in my office. My extracycle was in there, as well as Joe’s bike. He begged to ride home, could we both ride together. I had my doubts. There are three long hills (not steep, just long) and Joe’s bike doesn’t have gears. But I thought, ok, we’ll see. It was Joe’s first time to do more than go around a block, ride in the church lot, etc. So we walked across Limestone and headed down Arceme. Well, that was the first hill, right as he got moving. He was so frustrated, really taking it out on himself. I calmed him down and we walked to the top of the hill and rode down. But then Parkview is more of the same, a hill right as you get started after we walked across Bryan. But he got it and he had those little legs working. Brandon, Joe’s uncle, is fond of pointing out that when little kids walk or climb stairs, they are really strong—stairs for a four-year old is like us stepping repeatedly onto a truck tailgate, he says, aptly.

Well, Joe made it, and he made it up the hill on Highland Park. It was really cool.

I’ll try not to ramble on about how bikes are such elegant pieces of technology, so simple, such a human pace to them. And I won’t let that get me started on how musical instruments are such elegant pieces of technology, how as Mike Cecil says, “Bluegrass is the people’s music”—no amps, no drums, just open up a case anyone can carry and play.

And did I mention that last night Joseph was strumming the guitar and among the many strange noises coming from many attempts at putting fingers down on the fretboard, one of them was E-minor?

One Week Later...

So, we were out doing evangelism again this week. A street away from my soi-disant Buddhist.

We were having a good time; Jessie made up a song, borrowing an old Lewis Family tune: “So many years, so many houses… so many years, so many blessings, we’ll have eternity to share.”

A door opened and an honest man stepped out. When he heard I was from the church, he was not too pleased, a smirk of resignation on his face. I asked if he had a church.

No, he said, drawing it out, emphasizing being resigned to having to deal with creatures barely above Mormons.

I asked why not.

He said, “I don’t go.”

“Too ornery?”

A smile, albeit faint. “I guess so.”

“Well,” I says, “you’ll die and face the judgment same as all of us. When you want to get ready before that day, come see us,” and I handed him my card.

This I will deal with, I’ll talk to this guy. I expect to be back. I expect he’ll talk to me. Just don’t feed me a line of bull. You don’t go, you hate God, you think preachers are idiots, immoral, both or worse, whatever, just don’t bs me. You can run me, you can beat me, just don’t bs me.

On the Street

Another in the annals of evangelism stories. Me and Roz really need to write a book. Anyway, on a street where I have had encounters with Jehovahs and Mormons, the only guy I got to meet is a case study. He was picking up trash from the where the trash pickup had scattered it. I commented by way of introduction that there’s more trash after they come by, and he laughed. As I handed him the card I use (church name, service times, etc), and mentioned that I was a pastor, he immediately waved me off and said, “I’m not a church-goer.”

“Why not?”

“I follow more of the Buddhist way.”

So I had to turn down my inner monologue. Here’s what the filter caught: “You Northside stoner! Of course you follow Buddha! You were baked and god forbid your dealer is the county jailhouse philosopher…”

What I said was, “it’s been my experience that people who say that have no idea what they are talking about. It’s really more honest to just say you don’t have time for really changing your life to please God. We won’t waste each other’s time that way.”

The problem is this: b.s. is worse than lying. B.S. is still a lie, it just fools the hearer and speaker into thinking something was actually thought out and said. Tell me you go to Nonesuch Baptist Church. Lie to me, just don’t b.s. me.

Seed Sale

Holy Crow! We sold $2,057 worth of seeds. Thanks to everyone who came. And we still have some stuff left if you didn't get any... or enough!

Sunday Gift

So Sunday morning, Johnny G and I are in the hall a few minuted before Sunday School. Up comes Diane Sears, about as sweet a saint as there is. She has had and has a tough life. But she is full of the joy of the Lord. She came up and put her arms around me and started singing, "Good morning to you, good morning to you..."

It was a boost. I mean, I was already having a good day, but what a blessing.

Joe Joe's 1st Free Throw Shot in a Game....

Joseph had his next to last basketball game today. Joseph likes to play, but he does more running than anything else. He kind of wanders around. But he has a lot of fun. He can flat out get down the court for a “big man.” Today they were playing the only team to beat them this season. Joe’s team, The Spartans, poured it on early and had The Crimson Tide in a hole. But The Tide has a player who can really shake and bake for a 2^nd grader. Joe ended up defending him in the next to last quarter, when it looked like they might make a run. He stayed with the boy, put those long arms out and up, the kid could not get a look. Only scored 2 points. Tenacious D. Just like his old man, as John Gallaher knows only too well.

Here’s a video of Joe “Money” Mansfield hitting a clutch free-throw—his team won by one.