Quote of the Day

Current mood: Got the jitters!

What doesn't kill you only makes you fearfull and edgy.

Currently listening :
Horsedrawn Wishes By Rollerskate Skinny
Release date: By 27 February, 1996

Madrid: Volume 3: Part 2: The Muslim Incident

Madrid: Volume 3: Part 2: The Muslim Incident
Current mood: Squirrelly & Headachey & Whiney yet Bragadocious
Category: Sports

Once back in Lava Pies lugging our backpacks filled with digital video good news. We bought out the cases of water at the local Champion grocery ajacent to the triangular plaza where we were stationed. Thus began our M work. We would approach complete strangers with the majority of our group knowing 'pequino espanol.' Roughly meaning we knew how to order off the Taco Bell menu and use words not meant to be used in polite conversation. Other than that the M couple and one or two of the rest of the group could hold a conversation with anyone.

We would say 'regalo' which meant gift and attempt to hand the passer-by's a Day-Uhvay-Day and agua. On this particular day people seemed less receptive than they did the rest of the week. One factor could have been our pronunciation got better with repition, another could have been our confindence and comfort levels increased. Another factor may have been that word got around that some loco gringos were passing our free water and movies.

This first day say not only lower receptivity but our only day of true confrontation. Almost immediately upon our arrival we encounter a man ranting and raving in German, saluting Hitler and Franco (the Spanish dictator who firebombed his own people during WWII), and spitting in our general direction. Some believed him to be demon possessed, some believed him to be schizophrenic, some believed him to be drunk, others chose a combination. He wore an army surplus jacket, natty dreads, and a cologne named after a King James passage in the Bible, "pisseth against the wall."

G works in mysterious ways and so we had to do little to engage him in his odd attempt at polite conversation. One of his drinking buddies whom he shared a park bench with took it upon himself to gently ask him to leave. His friend pushed him nearly a block down the street until he finally turned and walked to the next block before I lost sight of him.

The next way G worked was just as odd. After about an hour of passing out the films and water bottles. I had a muslim man decide I was not being forceful enough with my delivery of the word 'regalo' and thus he grabbed me, grabbed the DVD in my hand, and proceeded to show me how it was done. He would step right in front of the person walking by minding their own business and say 'regalo' much in the same way your mother would demand "Eat your vegetables." Without concerning himself with their desire to accept or reject said gift he would thrust it into their chest forcing them to up their hands to take it. While unothodox in his approach and some what in mockery of my politeness he did have a better rate of success. He gave away about 10-12 videos in about a third of the time it took me to give out that many.

And the last way I saw G work mysteriously was when he used my sense of humor to captivate an audience of about 8 young arabic speaking men into a serious discussion about the nature of religion, grace, forgiveness, heaven, JC, his dad, and our differences of opinion. A palestinian man who need a tooth brush almost as much as he needed JC told me he didn't need a DVD but what he could use was some money for cigarettes. I in turn told him he could take the free gift I was offering him and turn around and sale it to his muslim buddies hanging out with him right there on the corner. Sarcasms doesn't seem to translate across religious and linguistic lines as much as I would have hoped. As you can see it was a truly funny, if not ridiculous and flawed, plan. If only they had really gotten the joke.

The one guy who did spoke the best english and thus began the dialogue. First we talked of Bush and the war, and his peoples hatred for all things American and all things JC related. In there mind all Americans represent JC. From their perspective Tom Cruise and Gwen Stefani are just as much followers of JC as Billy Graham.
We discussed the fact that we can talk to G any time we want and in fact that we do all day. We communicate without ceasing as Paul described it to a group from Thessalonica. They think that you can only do that at 5 specific times throughout the day. They simply had no idea that you could have constant and total access, regardless of time or place.

They could not understand that we have assurance of our final destination. There is no security in their system. There is no grace, nor forgiveness, and for that matter no way to resist tempation. That is why they believe and adhere so stringently to a suffocating moral code. The only way to avoid temptation is to remove it completely from society. Thus you don't have to resist it because it is not present. It was just cool to see how G used an odd array of methods to get the message out that day. And coolest of all was that I got to see it and be apart of it first hand.

Currently listening: B Collision By David Crowder Band Release date: By 27 June, 2006

Madrid: Volume 3: Part 1: The Moroccan Tea Incident

Madrid: Volume 3: The Moroccan Tea Incident
Current mood: Oldish and Sore-like
Category: Food and Restaurants

Saturday was our first full day in Madrid. We got up walked to the neighborhood dog park a few blocks from Hotel Gran Legazpi and has a time of singing and talking (about spiritual things). See the things we take forgranted over here like attending a house of worth ship (the original meaning of the word) can literally put peoples lives in danger even in a western civilized 'so-called' nation.

There is a large Muslim population and even Al Queda cells active within Lava Pies. That being said I never felt scared or in danger the entire trip; I have feared for my life on the downtown streets of Dallas, the rougher neighborshoods of Fort Worth, and even the late-night-redneck-infested parking lot of a Grand Prairie Whataburger. I was never nervous or concerned in Madrid.

However, to live there and work there and be a Christ follower there can be dangerous over time, if you are not wise with your safety and aware of your surroundings. That is quite a sobering thought to realize what we went and did for a week has to take into account protecting the safety of those who remain.

Madrid is a city of roughly 6 million people. It is the metropolis of Spain. The area where we did 'M' work is known as Lava Pies (meaning Washed Feet). It is the cheapest place to find housing in Madrid thus the first place immigrants move to when they come to start a new life.

Each morning after breakfast at the hotel, in the smoke filled cafe, we would head to the dog park. Speaking of breakfast Spanish coffee was excellent, just rich, strong espresso with about 3 times as much milk. It wakes me up just thinking about it.

Then we headed to Lava Pies via the 148 bus. We walked up and down this incredibly steep street visiting a store operated by the friend of one of our guides. Our guides were a husband and wife M team who had formerly live in Madrid. After getting a feel for the area we headed to a Moroccan resturaunt, called Al Alahambra, filled with Muslim men watching soccer. Curiously enough I forget what I ate but I do remember I liked it.

After lunch I was instructed to order some Moroccan tea which I assured I would love. I was skeptical but the tea proved to be worthy of its recommendation. It was a small (maybe 6oz.) glass of hot tea. It was the bomb! I have been craving some ever since. If I can find where to score some back here in the states I may just become a Moroccan tea junkie. In which case I will end up in the gutter on some back alley sleeping on cardboard and harassing people on street corners as I try to wash their windshields with spit and some old wadded up news print. Just hoping to get enough money to get one more sip. Yes, it was that good. I don't even know what made it so, but believe me it was so. Just a small glass, hot tea, a few perfect mint leaves and what I suspect was heap of suger.

This was a great start to the day. Even though we had been up for hours, at the dog park, riding the bus, and walking around Lava Pies it seems lunch was when the day began. Everytime we ate at a resturaunt we tended to stay for about 2 hours. This is the Spanish way. We were never rushed to leave, or empty our table so the resteraunt could rush customers in and out as quickly as possible. Lunch and dinner is a social occasion, time for talking, relaxing, truly enjoying your food and your company.

We returned via a walk and a bus ride back to the hotel. Here we grabbed our backpacks and loaded them up with DVD's. I don't advise you wearing backpacks around over seas as it is the number one sure sign to everyone else that you are a tourist and a dork. This makes you are target for pick pockets. The only real danger in Madrid is pick pockets and crossing the street. Pedestrians do not have the right of way and if you cross on red, you better be prayed up and have all your funeral arrangements prepared. On several occassions I witnessed drivers speeding up just to remind a straggler of their place on the food chain.

Currently listening: Midi 20 By Grand Corps Malade

Madrid: Volume 2: The Steak Incident

Madrid: Volume 2: The Steak Incident
Current mood: Foppish
Category: Pets and Animals

In Madrid we walked a lot. Everyday we walked a lot. All this walking took place after riding the 148 bus to whatever stop we wanted and then walking the rest of the way. Somehow no matter where we were going it seems that the bus only went half way and then we had to walk the other half of the distance. I could never understand why the bus did not let us off right where we wanted to end up. This caused me great consternation and after a couple of counseling sessions, I have determined between me and God not to hold this against the Spainards.

The first evening after arriving in Spain, taking the metro train and subway to our hotel, riding up the tiny elevator to our tiny room, showering and changing, we then went to Plaza Mayor. Of course we rode the 148 to Plaza Mayor for what seemed to be about 8-10 miles, which is probably 3 meters or something. I don't have my ruler with the inches on one side and centimeters on the other so I can't do the exact conversion right now. Then we walked another trillion centimeters or so to the Plaza for dinner.

We ate a resturant that shall remain nameless. This is not for security purposes or to protect the anoniminity of the restaurant because of a scathing food review. It is simply because I don't remember the name and if I did I am pretty sure it was in Spanish anyway. And I am fairly certian that I do not speak Spanish so what good is a name anyway if I can't communicate its full meaning and cultural nuances. It is like telling someone here in the states that we ate at El Chico, which--I have been told by well intentioned yet boring people--means The Boy. Swell we ate at The Boy. Am I the only one that finds this odd?

The restaurant was pricey - I paid about 22.50 Euro for a steak. 22.50 Euro is about 31.50 US Dollars. The steak was delicious but I can buy a steak here at Texas RoadHouse for about 1/3 the price, not to mention the $1100 I would save on airfare. The thing with Texas Road House is that I can park my car about 10 feet from the entrance and walk right in. I can completely avoid the whole bus ride and urban hiking experience and just go right in a eat peanuts and throw the shells on the floor while I wait to eat my steak.

The steak was great. I asked for medium and I got medium. Great flavor, a nice sear on the outside, and blood and juices squirting out with every poke of the knife. I know for some of you pasty skinned vegans and sappy animal lovers out there that is totally mortifing imagery but get over it. I was describing a cow not your favorite childhood puppy.

Then after we ate the steak my good friend Carl (who's name has been changed not so much for security reasons as for the fact that I can't remember his name) took us out into the beautiful Plaza Mayor and proceeded to tell us the history. The Plaza Mayor is this enchantingly beautiful inner courtyard surrounded by gorgeous ancient architecure where the Catholic church used to torture and kill protestants.

The bricks where we stood used to be soaked in the warm, red blood of the forefathers of my faith. These "protestors" stood against the indulgences and the hypocrisies of the church that had taken the vibrant first century Christian faith and turned into a wooden religious institution. Somehow I found myself wondering whether we have almost come full circle since that time. Would the church today kill these men and women all over again? Would I be one of the murders or one of the martyrs? What have I institutionalized and what should I be protesting or revising in my faith journey that needs to die on the bricks in order for my faith to be true to one who called me to the Truth?


Currently listening:
Define the Great Line (CD & DVD) By Underoath
Release date: By 20 June, 2006

Madrid: Volume 1: The Arrival Incident

Madrid: Volume 1: The Arrival Incident
Current mood: In Need of a Siesta
Category: Snails and Puppy Dog Tails

OK - for security reasons I can only tell you that I went to Madrid. However, I can not tell you what country this was. If you want a hint I can do that though. It begins with an S and ends with pain.

We arrived all the way from Dallas after flying out of DFW to George Bush International Airport in Houston where we flew to Charles de Gaulle in gay Paris and onto Madrid. They were actually fabulous at Charles de Gaulle with Air France; they met our group at the arrival gate and had escorts and shuttles to take us to our departure terminal for Madrid because our plane was behind schedule. Just a note from those who seem to know, try to avoid flying Iberia for international flights. They seem to have not gotten the memo on customer service, and on top of that are notorious for losing luggage.

On the flight from Houston to Paris I watched a quaint little french flick called La Doublure or 'The Valet'. Where François Pignon is played by, Gad Elmaleh, a Moroccon born actor. In the movie a valet (Elmaleh) and a top-model have to pretend to be a couple in order to salvage a CEO's marriage. But enough about French cinema.

The food on Air France was distincly French as well, good but French. I had smoked Salmon salad and Veal cutlets with an odd mixture of beans and veggies. Then I got to wash it all down with mineral water and the tiniest, most slender little can of Coca-Cola.

Once we arrived in the Madrid airport in an unnamed country we took an hour long Metro ride to Legazpi where we got checked into Hotel Gran Legazpi. Gran Legazpi had the tiniest of rooms and the world's smallest elevator (until we got to Paris) and was a pleasant place to stay, extremely nice for European standards. There was a continential breakfast that cost 5E a day, a tad much for coffee (cafe), oj and various pastries and breads. Mostly I could have done with out having to endure the all the smokers at breakfast. We have gotten used to non-smoking facilities here in the states.

Roughly 50% of Mardridians smoke and I think they were all on holiday at Gran Legazpi. At one point I met the matriach of tabacco in all of Madrid when I went to a cigarette stand to try and purchase an international calling card. The clerk at this cigarette stand was probably in her 50's but looked as though she were in her 80's and she could easily serve as a Spanish voice over artist for James Earl Jones. She was not just the president of the cigarette stand, she was definetly a client. When she dies they can use her skin to make leather wallets and book covers to sell at the Rostro. (I never did find a calling card or a pay as you go phone the whole time I was there.) I will tell more about the Rostro when I get to Sunday.


Currently listening:
Wolfmother By Wolfmother
Release date: By 14 February, 2006

An Actual Email I Sent Today

Broadman & Holman is offering a free leatherbound Holman Christian Standard Bible (NT/Psalms-Proverbs edition) while supplies last.
http://www.broadmanholman.com/hcsb_giveaway.asp

BELOW IS MY SUBMISSION IN THE SECTION WHERE THEY ASKED:
"If you could design or build your own Bible, what would it be? (features, size, notes, etc.)"


To the Generous People at Broadman-Holman Publishing or to Whomever It May or May Not Concern,

I would design and build a Bible that combines application notes with Greek and Hebrew language notes while avoiding the errors of crappy Pre-Millennial Dispensationalist theology. It would include specific sections or articles on Jewish customs and historical background for original context clues. The historical background and context clues would be a great addition to a study Bible that I have thus far not seen in any Bible out; plus the usual maps, charts, indices, etc. ALL THAT FITS IN PALM OF YOUR HAND (i.e. Pocket PC and Palm OS capable) FOR UNDER $50.

Here is an Idea, sell the leatherbound editions and hardback editions of this Bible packaged together with a disc(s) that contains MP3 of the entire bible being read aloud by Sean Connery for your computer, car stereo or Ipod; along with the best features of all the pastors libraries out right now; packaged with a version for both Windows based Pocket PCs and Palm OS.

And one final suggestion, although I know you will be tempted to call it The Michael L. McMinn Study Bible, I advise a more popular name such as The Rich Mullins Hold Me Jesus Life Change Holy Ghost Fire Baptized Study Bible to End All Study Bibles.

Thanks for asking, I expect you will get right on that and I also expect to hear from you very, very soon.

Michael McMinn, MDivBL
903.***.****

P.S.
Seeing as we are Baptist you might consider removing the Holy Ghost Fire Baptized section of the title completely. Another option would be developing a special edition including the phrase to be sold in stores outside of Lifeway and SBC circles, including but not limited to Mardel Christian Stores, Family Christian Stores, Berean Stores, Parable Stores, Amazon.com, etc., to name a few.

An Uprising

I want to start a revolution! Don't you?

Are you tired of the status quo? Want to shake things up a bit? Or alot? Are you tired of chasing the elusive "American Dream" and the gerneral materialism, consumerism, commercialism, and business in life that this pursuit leads people on.

Do you feel like there is more to life then just serving your own needs and ignoring the social injustice and needs of the entire rest of the world? Does life feel hollow and empty? Do you know first-hand life is nothing like sitcoms or The OC? Do you long for deeper, more meaningful aspects to life?

Do you believe there is a God out there but He is much bigger and better than the caricatures of gods the religious people represent? Do you feel God doesn't want people to starve, sleep on the streets,, die from cureable diseases, or suffer alone and lonely? Deep down inside do you sense God not only wants to end suffering but that He wants you to join Him in doing something about it?

Religion is shallow and feeble and narrow-minded and I want nothing to do with it. What I do want is so much bigger than religion or politics or mascots. What my heart aches for is nothing that has ever come from the a religious organization or a political platform. Where it comes from is deep within me yet I know I can't do it alone. Will YOU join me? Will you seek to start a revolution? RISE UP with me against social injustice, poverty, familial devastation, famine, AIDS and disease, child abuse, immorality, and ego-centric leadership.

Arise! The Uprising must begin with you and me. Don't become a leader, become a follower. Follow your heart that says God cares about everyone and answer the call that tells you God wants you to put hands and feet to what your heart believes.

I want to start a Revolutoin, a Movement, an Uprising! I want to do it with people that care about others more than themselves. I want to live in community and connectedness with people that are willing to live beyond themselves. Serve others and connect with God to care for those less fortunate than me.

Are you with me?

Currently listening: The Mission Bell By Delirious? Release date: By 27 December, 2005

Current mood: Full of Hope
Category: Dreams and the Supernatural

Living on the Outside of the Underground

I work with students! I get to work with students! As a youth pastor I work with teenagers and my life revolves around seeming them connect with God through knowing Jesus. And it is the most rewarding thing I can think of. It is such an honor and a blessing to live among teenagers and occassionally be invited into their world. They live underground and while most adults think we know them or have them "figured out." Really we only see what they allow us to see. Sometimes this concerns me, sometimes it breaks my heart, sometimes it frustrates me. Really all I try to do is sit at the steps that lead into their world and try to get to know them as much and as best as they will let me.

As an "adult" I am an outsider to their world and the only key to unlock that world and receive and invitation in is love and acceptence. I do love students. They keep my young and I used to think they helped me stay "cool" too. But I have realized that I am not "cool" nor do I really aspire to be. In their world cool is a facade and used to create a class structure more brutal and harsh than the caste system of India.

It sucks to realize to them, even those that I am closest too, in some ways I will always be an outsider. I don't know what that magic age is (I think it is different for everyone), nor do I even know if I am aware of when I became an adult in their eyes but at 32 I definately know I am there. But here is the kicker. That is what they want from me and that is what I can give them. They would never "let me in" and accept me if I tried to "fit in" and pose as one of them. Have you seen these adults? They are a joke to the kids and they are the ones that laugh with the kids not knowing they are the ones being laughed at. Teenagers are tough. They are brutally honest. They are willing to get real with you when they see that your motives are pure, your love is deep, and your patience and acceptance real.

I love students and am so glad God has put me on this path to get to be there for their joys and tragedies of life. I love to see those moments when they "get it." When they realize God is real; when they understand grace and mercy and forgiveness and unconditional love truly exists and God offers to them freely; when they have an "a-ha" moment; when they reach their full potential, or even just come to the understanding and belief that they have potential; when they realize God has a purpose and a plan for their lives, and that their lives are full of meaning; when I get to be there and see that--that is a reward far greater than any downside.

I have been yelled at, cussed out, hit, mocked, betrayed, let down, egged, wrapped, lied about, lied to, stolen from and ignored. None of that compares to a single instance of joy derived from students live being changed by the love and forgiveness found in Jesus Christ. One moment of seeing a student forgive a parent that has hurt them deeply, step up to leadership, memorize a passage of scripture and apply it, step outside themselves to love and serve others, realize their are others less fortunate then they are, repeat back to me something I taught them when I thought they never listened, anyone of these moments can overshadow a monthes worth of set-backs, heart-breaks, and beat-downs.

God is the reason I get up in the morning. Students are the reason I can go to bed at night, tired but with the knowledge and satisfaction of knowing that I am making a difference even when the acknowledgment is often short lived or seldom seldom expressed beyond a quick head nod or smile.

Thanks Jesus and thanks to all my students past and present that "let me in," "got it," and "live it."

Current mood: moxie-ish
Category: Automotive
Currently listening: A Burn Or a ShiverBy Edison Glass
Release date: By 04 April, 2006

The little dock that stood.

Week before last we got alot of rain in a short amount of time. And on the way to work there is a little farm with a barn with the Texas flag pointed on the roof of the barn. It sounds to quaint to be true but it is. And they have slowly been "spiffing" the place up. Cleaning out the fence row. Putting in a new gate. Digging up an old crumbling storm cellar. Building a new barn. Digging out some stock ponds and doing some general landscaping and drainage work with a back hoe.

Well this one little pond has been sitting all through the summer and most of the winter with just a little pool of water at the bottom. The pond is right up close to the western fence and right on the otherside of the fence are the railroad tracks. I look at this pond often because I get caught alot by the train. To be specific I get caught by the train everytime I am late to work or in a rush to get home. So I sit and look at this pond. For the last year or so the North Texas area has been drought sticken and fire prone. This little pond, with a shallow puddle of a few inches of water about the size and depth of a one of those plastic kiddie pools that you get at walmart, has a nice new dock built out over where the water should be but isn't.

Or I should say wasn't. After the torrent of rains we say about a week and a half ago that is ancient history. Now you can only see the top railing of the dock. The whole thing save the top arm railing is submerged. This is so funny and heart breaking at the same time. Here we have had this drought going and I thought the pond would never fill up. For monthes it seemed like such a waste and a sad reminder of the drought that plagued the whole area. Now the opposite is true. There is such and over abundance of water that it has found a completely new way to render the dock completely useless.

Either way the dock looked absurd. There it stood way to big for the little pond yet at the same time still not far enough out to reach the water. Now it stands hardly even recognizable submerged in water about 3 feet to deep to be useful. I just have to laugh. I think this is such an accurate picture of how God works in our lives sometimes.

Don't get me wrong. I don't mean to say that God is cruel or that He has a mean spirited sense of humor. What I mean is that we make our plans, we structure our lives, to fit a certain perspective, ours. And then God comes along and does what He does and we find ourselves completely missing the point--as in the case of the dock when it didn't even reach out over the tiny pool of water that exist in the shallow basin of the empty pond. Or God comes along after we have been praying, even crying, begging, pleading, or wrestling with Him to bless us and when it happens we are so overwhelmed and overtaken by it that we are no longer recognizable as our former selves.

I hope God will use this in my life to remind me daily and constanly to stop trying to build my dock based on where I want the water to be or hope it to be--I do this most days I think.

a quote for it.

"Why blame the dark for being dark? It's far more helpful to ask why the light isn't as bright as it should be." -Rob Bell

DBL STNDRD

Do things sometimes not go your way? Do you sometimes think LIFE isn't going your way? I know I do. For the most part I am a pretty laid back guy when it comes to the difficulties and hardships that life can throw at us. But sometimes it just gets to be too much to handle. I have been crying out to God all day. I have been sitting a church office with other 'pastors' and 'church staff' and been on the verge of tears all day. I just can't handle 'one more' thing sometimes. It is scary because today noone seemed to notice. Is that because I am a good liar? Am I good at not being real? Is anybody good at being real?

I don't like to share that "I can't handle it." In ministry sometimes we are lead to believe that we put others needs before our own and sometimes I think we take that to mean that our needs are not important at all. They are but I don't want to share my needs and thus expose myself to the possibility of being labeled "needy." What a catch-22? I think that is Satan rather than God. If you are reading this and you are a "lay person" realize that pastors are people too. We have feelings and hurts and needs and -gasp- even wants too.

God in His word makes it very clear that we are ultimately accountable to Him and that He holds us to a higher standard. But from one human to another: we are just human. Don't put us on a pedastal or hold us to a higher standard than you would hold for yourself and your own family. That is hypocrisy. And more importantly it sets you and me, both of us, up for failure. I fail when I don't live up because I am human and you fail because you focus on false standards for others while ignoring the high standards God calls all believers to equally. Requardless of rank or title or position God says "Be holy for I am holy." There is no pay scale of holiness. I am to have intergrity in what I do however you are not held to a seperate lower level of integrity.

Pastors have wives and families that are real, ordinary, normal people that have needs and desires and feelings like everyone else. I hope you realize that if you expect something out of others that you don't expect out of yourself then that is hypocrisy. I do think that Jesus was not just good at being real but that He is "the most real." He hung out with sinners never judged them harshly and was chastised for loving them. He accepted people for who they were and found ways to extend grace to them so that they would realize who they could become.

I am trying, sometimes miserably, sometimes well, to become more like Jesus. He is my standard, not anyone else. I hope He is your standard too. Not for me or for others, but for yourself first. Remember the only time He dealt harshly with people was when they were using a double standard to judge people and using God's name to condone their own hypocrisy. Let us both look at Jesus as our standard rather than each other and we will realize we are more like brothers than enemies.

Are we known for the wrong things?

I am increasingly bothered by the fact, maybe even disturbed by it, that we as Southern Baptists specifically, and Christians in general seem to really be good at expressing what we are against. We are known for what we are NOT about. We are AGAINST abortion, homosexuality, gambling, speaking in tongues, alcohol. What message are we sending? Is it the message Christ gave us or our own?

We have the single most powerful, life-changing, life-giving, life-affirming message in the world and most people out there can not articulate it. Even if they are not Christians it seems like we have the power to get our message out to people. They know all these things we are against yet we can't get out the message of what we are for. One simple, solitary, singular message of salvation, hope, forgiveness, mercy, love, and grace and we can't share that.

It's the media's fault. They report what they want, right? Not if we don't spew all over the place about the wrong things. If I was a gay gambler with a drinking problem seeking to have an abortion I would never ever think to turn to the church. I would think hey those people are the ones that hate me and don't want me there. They are against me.

Why don't we get it? We play right into the enemies hands. And if when I said enemy, you thought of people or 'the media' then ask God's forgiveness. Our enemy is Satan and he has deceived us into thinking that moralistic rules and telling people what not to do is the answer. Many in our ranks even believe political influence and power is what we need. Have we not learned from history. Everytime we attempt to couple the Kingdom of God with a political party of anykind we 'screw the pooch.' Remember Constantine, the Inquisition, the Crusades, and on and on?

Yes, the full gospel includes mans sin and need for repentence, forgiveness, and a savior. That is the offense of the gospel. Let us, His people, present the message and let it be the offense, and let us stop making up new ways to offend, let us stop creating stumbling blocks. We most often present ourselves as standing with arms folded, or fingers wagging, or hands raised grasping a picket sign. How about for once we stand with our arms wide open lovingly embracing those God has sent us to? I never read the part where Jesus said "Go into the world and stand across the street from them with megaphones and t-shirts and placards"

I am not soft on sin, especially the sins of the religious. And I count myself as among those I am talking too. I am often blinded by self-righteousness, I am all too often caught up in the rants of the 'chosen,' and more times than I want to admit I find myself at the place where I have to turn to Jesus and ask Him to forgive me for my pride and my jugdmental attitude. I just hope that today I can live out love to those that need it rather than listing off the kinds of people I won't accept. I believe there are countless things I could concern myself with, a few things to even worry about, but only one thing that matters enough to share with the world. And when we share that one thing with the world, that can not be taken away.

SBC.Trustee.IMB.RE:baptize.Pharisees?

I would like to blog some thoughts tonight. This has been bothering me for a few days to weeks now. Who cares? I do and I don't. I was going to say something but now I wont, maybe.

I do not want to jepordize my life long dream of becoming a trusted Trustee of the SBC. I must not speak out against them or attempt to engage in frivolous dialogue. Don't bring Scripture into it. Build a hedge around the law with new laws just to be safe. Jesus never opposed anyone for doing that. I want to be a trustee so I agree with everything wholeheartedly and never have a different opinion in my brain. Sick.

I hope I didn't make any mistakes, errors, typo's, or misspellings in this blog. That could be construed as speaking in tongues somewhere in my past. Did I mention I am so glad that I already KNEW EVERYTHING AND AGREED WITH EVERYTHING they taught me at seminary? Otherwise I might have had to have been rebaptized.

Isn't that exactly what Jesus commanded? "Go into the world and make disciples baptizing them in the three-fold name: Father, Son, Holy Spirit. Teaching them all I have commanded. And as you teach them, everytime they come to a new realization about me; everytime their theology is transformed by a new insight into scripture; everytime they learn something new; everytime they are convinced of something they formerly doubted; everytime; everytime; everytime, REbaptize them!"

Jesus just threw up a little in his mouth!

I wonder how He would feel when they rejected Him as a suitable candidate for Trustee? Or how shocking it would be to realize that the IMB sets extra-biblical standards that would even disallow Jesus to be sent as an international missionary. After all Jesus intercedes on our behalf with groans and utterings beyond what we ourselves can communicate. None of the Apostles present at Pentecost would be allowed to go as IMB missionaries either. The IMB has succesfully come up with a hedge of protection are the Law that works so well Jesus and the best missionaries and church planters He personally mentored would not have qualified to be sent. I am so proud. This is such a great moment in history. I am thinking Jesus didn't need them then maybe they are pointing out they are obsolete now too.

A QUOTABLE QUIXOTIC QUOTE

Never scratch a tiger with a short stick!

Call Karma, Call Karma Earl. Maybe Karma will Save Us!

Randy: I’m sorry Earl. It’s my fault. I was bad and so something bad happened to me. Karma, it’s like you’re always telling me.

Earl: it just doesn’t make sense though. Why is karma punishing me. You were the one doing bad things with Ralph. I’ve been good.

Randy: yeah you have been good. Hey, maybe if you call karma it might come and save us. Call it.

Earl: Randy. It doesn’t work like that. It’s Karma, not Lassie.

Randy: come on, you just try it.

Earl: Randy I’m not gonna call...

Randy: come on Earl. We’re about to lose everything and its all my fault, can’t you just try it.

Earl: fine. Kar-ma. (listens for a reply) see it doesn’t work.

Randy: (whispers) try it louder

Earl: Karma!

This is a tad bit of the dialogue for the NBC sitcom My Name is Earl (Episode #5: Teacher Earl) and when I watched it for the first time it struck me as hilarious. I was eventually crying I was laughing so hard. And thanks to our DVR (Digital Video Recorder) on our Dish I watched it repeatedly that first night.

At the same time that it struck me as so funny it also just struck me but the humor was so great at the time I just tucked the other thought away in my head for later. Well now is later. The thought of someone calling karma to come to the rescue much like Lassie did in her prime is hysterical. We can all see the humor in this right?

Yet in a very real sense this speaks to a much deeper, and probably less humorous issue. Think about a couple of things. Millions of people, more likely billions, of people expect karma or something like it to get them through life. If you do more good than bad you are gonna be ok. If you try to do good things then good things will come to you. Sounds good right. We see people that are generally 'good' poeple and their lives seem decent. And we see people on the news everynight that commit crimes and yet there they are on the news getting what they deserve. So this idea must be valid in some form right?

Well wait a minute. What about all the 'good' people that aren't getting good in return? What about the people on the other end of those 6 o'clock news stories, the victims? Are not many of them 'good, decent' people on the tragic side of the story? And when we look at them and hear there stories don't we want justice? Doesn't something inside of us cry out for justice?

It is so laughable to think of someone standing in a room calling for Karma to come and save them. Karma, Earl points out to Randy (bless his heart) that Karma isn't like Lassie. And how right he is. Karma is an inanimate object, an impersonal force. Lassie is more alive and real than Karma. Yet people really believe in Karma and similar philosophical and religious ideas.

Yet there is only one belief system that answers this cry in our heart for someone to come and save us. The same person that comes to answer the cry of our hearts that longs for justice in this world, the cry to see wrongs righted, injustices corrected. There is only one personal savior that meets these demands of our heart. Jesus, there I said it. Only Jesus is personal. Only Jesus is real and came in flesh and blood and walked into the room and cut off the ductape that bound us (sin and death). Jesus entered into the room to right the wrongs in our heart. He came to be our personal saviour and answer the call. Christ came and he elevated the poor and weary, and marginalized among us to a place of honor. He lowered the self-righteous off their pedestals and stood against injustice. He spoke for the poor, the mistreated, the neglected and rejected.

The problem we have with that though is that it didn't end up the way we wanted. We would have no problem in this world embracing Jesus if the story stopped there. But, indeed, it did not. Come and save us (and make it easy too why dontcha), Karma, Jesus, Buddha, Lassie.
Unfortunately, it was costly to Him and it will be for us too. Jesus did immeasurably more good than anyone in human history and His reward: false accusations, false imprisonment, mock trials and mockery, beatings, beatings, and turture, and then Crucifixion, excruciating humilation and agonizing pain leading to death.

Salvation for us, but with a price. The price was His life for our life. His will for our will. His righteousness for our unrighteousness. He suffered so we must experience His suffering too if we want to be indentified with Him. Jesus did come into the room to save us and we rejected Him because we still think we can do it on our own strength. We still believe we can be good enough and good things will happen.

But this way never works and it never satisfies those deeper questions of why 'good, decent' people on the news are the victims of the 'bad' and why in the end we still cry out for justice, and not Karma. We still cry out for a savior, wondering how bad can happen even when we have been so good.

ultimately we can never outweigh the bad with the good and yet we don't have to. in grace we have been given the opportunity to call out for someone to save us and He will. Not after we have done more good than bad either. Simply call out and salvation is free. It is not cheap nor is it easy but it is there.

Grammatically Correct, Still Politically Incorrect

My wife is a darn fine English teacher and has a beautiful singing voice. Since you can not hear her on this blog the later gift will have to wait for a later date to be showcased. Maybe once I take the time to set up an audioblog account we will remedy that situation as well. Which leads me to ask the question, "Has anyone ever been signed to a record deal after being heard on a blog?"

Instead I put her highly underrated grammatical skills to the test. I had her proofread all my earlier posts (as I should have done long ago) and touch up my grammer mistakes and too-late-at-night-to-be-up typos. So if there are any previous posts that you were unable to get through because of your disgust with my erreverance for the English language now you can go back in time to finish a good read now made better (i.e. flawless) Which leads me to the question, "Has anyone ever been hired as an editor because of their work as a blog editor?"

Barbara Walters, "So would you like to tell us for the record how you came to be the editor-in-chief of the U.S. News and World Report from such humble beginnings?"

"Well, I had been editing my husbands blog over the course of a couple of monthes, and we got a call from...."

And the interview goes from there until Barbara gets to the point in every interview special where she breaks the person down, seeking her end result which is to always reduce the interviewee to a whimpering, shivering, sniffling, moist cheeked mess.

Way to go Mrs. Walters, bravo, you have done it yet again.

(Publishers note: This particular post has not been edited at time of said posting. The publisher hopes he is not sleeping on the couch later because of said publishers haste in posting. Would that be what is known as "post haste"?)

The Matirx is Real: Baby McMinn Enters the Matrix

Oh yeah, here is a pic that I said looked like the baby was entering the Matrix. Really it is when the doc set the lazers to stun, er I mean, she said "Beam me up Scotty?" Uh, hold on.

"Bec, What is this one pic again?" I yell into the house.

Oh yeah, sorry about that, this is when she was checking the heart rate. If you look over to the right you will see the heart beat was at 158. Good and strong.

I still like to pretend its the Matrix though. I doubt Bec will go for names like Neo or Morpheus, maybe she will go for Tank or Dozer though!

On Being a Dad: 02.07.06

This is Baby McMinn's first picture. First seeing is believing evidence that Baby Mc has arrived in this world. Becky would say throwing up was proof, and getting bigger, and being sleepy all the time, and 3 pregnancy tests were all proof. And they were. But what a relief to see that first picture of baby moving around in there, stretching, turning, twisting. It is so beautiful. We cried. We can't wait to see this little person and hold 'em in our arms. Wow. I want to cry and high five everyone all that same time. WooHoo!!!

On Being a Dad: 02.02.06

Okay, I am not patting myself on the back here. I genuinely mean what I say here. I really do feel it is an honor and a blessing to get to take care of my wife while she is pregnant. I am so happy that we are having a baby and I know it is only going to lead to more and more sleepless nights and lack of rest. I have been doing more of the cooking and cleaning already. And she is barely into the 2nd trimester.

I put her to bed, kiss her goodnight, pray with her, and then go to get some work done at the kitchen table. I have to lead some youth worker training sessions in Tyler and El Paso at the end of the month. (Any suggestions you can add to my topics would be nice, just post your comments here on: Effective Small Group Strategies and/or Leading Students to Make an On-Campus Impact.) It's now 11:15, I tucked her in around 9:55. I finally realized I wasn't gonna get much done before I myself was too tired to work on my outlines. So I am writing this instead. Mostly because I find it amusing and also even though it is a hassle I wouldn't trade it for the world.

I am no saint, mind you. I still sigh occassionaly when she calls me 10 times in 10 minutes. She calls me in from the garage where I am helping out by doing some late night laundry to email a friend about inviting someone to the upcoming Superbowl Party. So as I am finishing up the email she calls me to ask if we have stamps. She is in bed, what does she need with stamps?

"Have you fed the dogs?"

"No, I thought you did when you got home. I will do it now."

Then she calls for "Gatorade, only about this much (indicating about 2 inches with her thumb and index finger) in a glass-glass, not a plastic-glass," she says. When I return with the glass-glass of Strawberry Gatorade, she asks "and did i see some rice cakes on the kitchen table?"

When I return with the rice cakes (yeacth!) I wait for her to finish and wash them down with the gatorade. I ask if there is anything else. "No" she replys. And I head for the door. I hear her mumble and turn to see what she wants. "Turn off the hall light." Which is what I had planned to do, once I was actually in the hall.

Sometimes I think she is milking the pregnancy thing and I am just a sucker. But whatever, I am happy. I would not trade this for the world it is such an honor and a priviledge to wait on and serve the woman of my dreams, the one who is carrying our child. I am tired and going to bed. Why don't you send me those ideas and help me catch up on some rest?

Chuck Norris is a dancing machine, not a dancing queen.

Chuck Norris Facts is a website dedicate to the power and majesty of the man, the myth, the legend. We know him and love him as Chuck Norris. Visit the site and prepare to be amazed by the truth.

Inspired by the websites devotion to Chuck Norris, I decided to share some of the facts that I personally know about Chuck "Mr. Norris to you" Norris. These I have submitted to the aforementioned website for addition into the annuls of the great and ever growing legend of Chuck Norris.

Here below are the fruits of my experience while being in the presence of Chuck or at least in the same state:

You have heard of 6 degrees of Kevin Bacon. Chuck Norris is seperated from every human being on the planet by only 1 roundhouse kick to the face.

There is no such thing as a UFO, only objects Chuck Norris has roundhouse kicked into orbit.

Rodney Dangerfield gets no respect, especially from Chuck Norris who gets everyones respect or they get dead.

There are no black holes in Outer Space only a void where Chuck Norris has roundhouse kicked the crap out of the Universe.

Chuck Norris is a scientist because everytime he roundhouse kicks someone in the face he is proving the law of physics that states: No 2 objects can occupy the same space at the same time.

Einstein stated the absolute speed of anything is the speed of light. That is because he never met Chuck Norris.

Philosophers ask "Can Chuck Norris roundhouse kick a rock so far that he can not roundhouse kick it again?" Chuck Norris knows the answer and he isn't telling.

The age old question "Can God create a rock so big that He can not pick it up?" has been answered by Chuck Norris. "Yes I can" says Chuck but I don't have to pick it up when I can just roundhouse kick it right into your face."

We know Chuck Norris has counted to infinity: twice. Do you also know that both times he actually counted to infinity + 1 and then backwards to zero again?

When Rage Against the Machine wrote the lyrics "Here is something you can’t understand, How I could just kill a man" Chuck Norris said "I can," and he meant it.

Home is where the heart is, but Death is where ever Chuck Norris is.

Sad songs say so much, Chuck Norris says very little and then proceeds to roundhouse kick you and your sad little song.

Uncle Rico thinks he can throw a football over the mountains. Chuck Norris has roundhouse kicked a football stadium containing a sold out crowd across 2 galaxies.

Someone once accidently uttered the phrase "In your dreams" to Chuck Norris and now they dream of being alive.

Blue Oyster Cult sings "Don't Fear the Reaper." That song is not for Chuck Norris because he has no fear. In fact the 'cow bell' in the song is actually a loop of Chuck Norris roundhouse kicking the Reaper.

On Becoming a Dad: 01.30.06

Ok, becoming a dad is going to be awesome. And it so cool to tell people and watch their reactions. And hear what it is going to be like and how it is going to change our lives. But who are these people that like to tell you their horror stories? What is the obsession some people have that want to tell us about all the aweful experiences they have heard about.

My wife was on the phone with one person for 2 hours hearing about horrible events and tragedies and 70 hour long births. Do people really think we want or need to hear any of this?

We get it. We know all too well life if fragile. We think of these things on our own. That is just how the human mind works. But the reality is when we think of it ourselves or it enters our mind we can pray it away and dismiss it. It becomes that much harder when people help us think of things to worry about. Thanks.

We know God is in control even if something bad happens but that doesn't mean we want to think about the worst case scenarios on a daily basis. Some peoples minds tend toward worry like my wife's. She knows worry is an issue in her life and prays about it often and trusts God despite what her emotions tell her. How about a little help in the right direction?

Don't get me wrong, most people don't mean anything by it and the majority of them probably realize 2 seconds after it comes out of their mouth that they should not have said it. They wish they could take it back. That happens. That happens to me alot. I live with a sole-of-my-shoe taste in my mouth. But everytime that happens I stop. I don't think of the next dumb, inappropiate thing I can say. I shift gears, move on, change the subject, apologize if needed.

There are just a few of us out there that go on and on and on and on about it. Well today I am giving you official permission to stop. No body likes to hear bad news. But if it happens we will be taken care of by family and friends and comforted by God. However, if the bad news is just what might happen, or could happen, or did happen to your cousin's sister's mailman's blah blah, then be a Debbie Downer no longer! There I have freed you by the power of my rant.

Urinal Cakes!

Between a recent episode of MXC on Spike!TV in which one of the contestants threw her fist in the air and eclaimed "I love urinal cakes!" and a post on a friends blog on "Urinal Talk" about the unspoken rules of etiquette we man have at the urinal, it got me to thinking.

They have partitions between toilets, why not urinals?

Who thought of calling them urinal cakes anyway? Cakes? Hardly!

Why are we so homophobic about this? Me included, I must admit I don't want some dude lookin' at my dude.

Do urinal cakes really work? No, they just make a disgusting new aromatic mixture of urine, sickening sweet whatever, and poo. What? Why?

And just because we can pee standing up, does that mean we have to do it up against the wall.

The toilet bowl makes for a much more fun target anyway, if you ask me. And then you don't even need urinal snacks.

Who makes urinal cakes? Is it Little Debbie? Betty Crocker? Sara Lee? Nobody doesn't like Sara Lee! Dolly Madison?

I hear people all the time say that after they eat asparagus, their pee smells like asparagus. What other foods have you encountered that have this same ability to affect the stink of your urine? For me the thing that comes to mind is Super Golden Crisp.

Weird. I am going to bed...

i only know a few

Six billion people in the world and I only know a few.

According to the International Programs Center, U.S. Bureau of the Census, the total population of the World, projected to 01/30/06 at 14:49 GMT (EST+5) is:

6,494,617,896

Dang, It Feels Good to Be a Gansta!

am i getting old? (don't answer that)

quite a while back i sat at starbucks planning my new back to school message series for the student ministry. as i sat there for about 3 hours or so tons of kids came and went, stayed or didn't. i found myself curious trying to figure out if they were high school kids or college kids. i can't tell anymore.

i guess i is old and gettin older.

i am going to check out a new 3 story coffee house down near kelly square today in downtown sherman. me thinks it is called the boiler room.

are you like me? anytime i am sitting in a coffee haus in some metropolitian downtown (i am in sherman so i obviously use the term loosely) i like to read and write and think; and as i do i gaze out the window hoping that a fight will break out between a superhero and one of his evil archrivals. not necessarily his nemisis, i don't want to be too close to THAT fight, just a run-of the-mill generic bad guy superhero. so that the fight only takes the superhero like 4 or 5 moves to subdue the bad guy. just so i can say i was there and blog about it.

maybe even get on the news. but probably not. i think it would be better to just hang around a bit and then leave. go tell a few of your closest friends before they hear it anywhere else. so then when they do hear about they will know you were really there and be in awe of you. but probably, i wouldn't want to be on the news, those people always end up looking like morons. and in the south, if you are articulate, they will always skip you in favor of the guy with the mullet and six pack of beer. you know the guy, he believes in ufo's and has been abducted by aliens or knows someone who has. its 10am and he is standing there with a six pack. one beer open in one hand and just 3 or 4 still left in the pack, holding them dangling by one of the empty plastic rings.

then the interview starts like this, "so mister ledbetter, will you..."

"ahh, just call me leroy, mr. ledbetters my old man."

"uhm, ok, leroy can you tell us what you saw? what exactly happened here today? start from the beginning."

"well i actually didn't see nothin'. i was 3 blocks away wizzin' in the alley when i heard it. it was a horrible ruckus. i actually come over here to see about it because it sounded to me like when someones trailers gettin' repo-ed by the bank. (hocks a lugie and spits)"

Don't sweat it. Don't get stressed out. Don't let life get to you!

"You know, our bodies are capable of doing some very funny things when they're consumed by stress and anxiety. Uh, I found my ex-best friend's cufflinks in my wife's purse." Dr. Cohen speaking to Andrew Largeman (Zach Braff) in the movie Garden State.


Don't get too stressed out in life! Life throws fastballs and curveballs and bad pitches and change-ups and even the occassional, dreaded knuckleball. Don't be surprised or caught off guard. Expect the unexpected. But whatever you do trust in the fact that know matter how bad it gets God is in control. He is not the cause of your prediciment but He will be the comfort (read: is comforting you) during your circumstances. He will be the one source (is the one) of strength when your friends have turned their backs or when your family is not there to help. He offers hope, help, healing, and peanut butter.

Yes, peanut butter. He created peanuts and he surely taught someone to smash them repeatedly. So smash something, shout out loud to the Lord Most High, have a come-to-Jesus meeting with Jesus, and eat a peanut butter (and jelly, if you must) sandwich and know that God is there offering comfort and comfort food.

Tell Him you are pissed even if it is Him that you are pissed off at. And end your sentences with prepositions if you must. He can handle it. He is God after all. He will not cover His ears in shock and horror. He is too big to be offended. Tell Him, let Him have it. He will still be there when it is over!

Tigers Topple Tripple Threat

The Detroit Tigers baseball team has floundered in mediocrity for years. They have sucked the big one to put it bluntly. Only the most diehard of Tigers fans still show support for this sad excuse for a baseball team. it has been rumored that even Magnum P.I. himself has switched from the 'D' logo fitted baseball cap that he has worn his whole television existence for a straw 'Panama Jack' style sun hat. You know the ones with the hat band made out of a strip of cheap "hawaiian shirt" like material.

That was until just last week when in a single baseball game on a Tuesday night with sub par attendence they beat the Yankees, thwarted a major terrorist attack, which would have been the first on U.S. soil since 911, AND killed the notorius gopher that plagued Bill Murray all those years ago in Caddyshack.

It was the bottom of the 9th with most of 3,008 fans in attendance already heading for the parking lot. It was 2 outs, no one on base and manager Allen Trammell inserts Nook Logan into the line-up. Nook over the last few weeks had been relegated to a late-inning defensive insertion at center and situational pinch-runner, due to a slew of injuries.

With Nook at bat the Tigers faced almost certain defeat with noone on base, the yankees ahead by 1, 2 outs and the pitch count in the pitchers favor with 1 ball and 2 strikes. But then with one swing the world and the course of history changed forever. Nook swung on a pitch that was low and inside but somehow connected with the ball as he stood at the left side of the plate. The ball a careening knuckle ball with alot of back spin sailed so high most everyone thought it was a high pop fly and easy catchbut suddenly they realized it was rocketing toward the outfield. Up up and away it flew; and to the few remaining fans, the two teams and even the drowsy commentators surprise it left the park. Tieing the game and sending it into extra innings. In which the Tigers won in the bottom of the tenth when DH Dimitri Young drove in Placido Polanco with a two run shot over the right field wall just inside the foul pole.

But here is where the baseball game ends and the real story, the rest of the story begins. The ball that Nook hit out of the park traveled so far that it landed in Grand Circus Park where the gopher from Caddy Shack had moved for retirement. This is wear the balls tragic trajectory ended when with a powerful thud and minimal blood splatter it beaned gopher right in the temple as he stood on his gopher mound merely taking in the night air and strecthing his sore old gopher bones from a long day of sleeping underground. At this time the Detriot police and the District Attorneys office said they doubted highly the Mr. Nook Logan would be charged in the death. "It appears to be nothing more than a freakish accident at the end of a freakishly powerful homerun," said a spokesperson from the office of Kim L. Worthy, Wayne County Prosecutor.

However in the investigation into the death of the gopher the Detroit Medical Examiner discovered among gophers personal effects bomb making equipement and schematics and city planning blueprints. This lead to an investigation by the Wayne County Sheriffs Department, who brought in the FBI and who inturn brought in Homeland Security and CIA joint terrorism task forces. The investigation that is still ongoing has hitherto uncovered a mutliple cell terrorist plot to use gophers, moles, and possible sewer rats to carry small but powerful loads of explosives throughout the subways, sewer and drainage systems of Americas major cities. These creatures can gain access to highly secure areas and even burrow under seemingly impenatrable edifices upon which time al-Queda terrorists would be set to detonate these bombs from a safe distance using tracking devices and remote detonators.

In a rare statement against terrorist action PETA has issued a statement to the press and media outlets worldwide denouncing "al-Queda action that harms, mistreats, or uses small, cute, defenseless animals to promote its agenda of fear. Bad al-Queda! Bad al-Queda!" The investigation thus far is still ongoing and the task force is tight lipped about specifics at this juncture. But what we do know up to this point is that with one seemingly insignificant night, one oddly hit home run by Detriot's Nook Logan helped the Tigers Topple Triple Threat of Yankees, Gophers and al-Queda.

Reported by Michael L. McMinn, freelance journalist and gastrointestinal stalwart, reporting on vacation from Lake Titicaca, Moho, Peru, South America. (I was recently challanged to write a story with this title. Having the journalistic integrity that I do; I could only pen something I knew to be true. Oh, yes I said pen, you heard me correctly the first time.)

Becoming the Heros that We Ought to Be

I went to the Fort Worth Rodeo and Livestock Show tonight with my parents. It was a blast! I grew up in Cowtown, USA, and for most of my teenage years I turned my back on anything remotely having to do with that scene. Country music (not that anything on country radio deserves our attention anyway), boots, belt buckles, and pearl button snaps, these were all things that were seemingly uncool to me.

Well I repent. It has been in the making for along time. Starting in college when thrift store couture was at its peak I began searching out western belt buckles, old western shirts, and the like. Then always being an avid fan of good music (my wife would say: read: rock snob) I began to rekindle a love for the likes of Ernest Tubbs, Hank Williams Sr., Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys, Waylon, Willie & the boys, and The Man in Black. Jump forward to today and you can add Emmylou Harris, Ryan Adams, Wilco, and Graham Parsons, among others.

But today at the rodeo I saw so many down-turned mustaches, weathered faces and hands, manure stained boots, and sweat salted hat brims that I was stirred inside. Then I saw somebody I recognized, I was like a little kid, asking my dad excitedly "Who's that guy? I know him? Where do I know him from?"

My dad told me "That's Buck Taylor, Newly, from Gunsmoke."

My hot wife (trust me) was right on his heels with "You know; Texas Creek Jack Johnson, from Tombstone." One of her all time favorite movies. Most girls go for Pretty Women, or Fried Green Tomatoes or that sorta crap. But Tombstone!, she's hot and rarely does she have a desire for either of us to sit down and watch a 'chic flick.' See why I had to marry a girl like that?

Anyway, back to my story. I was in awe, I had seen Newly, not Marshall Matt Dillon, but as close as I was ever gonna get. Buck Taylor, as he is known in real life, is a real cowboy with a working ranch somewhere around Boyd, I think. From here we looked at more tractors, wooden furniture, and the like; until it was time for the rodeo.

It was somewhere in the midst of all this that I realized every man wants deep down inside to be a real honest-to-gawd-cowboy. We put on airs, button down and get real jobs, become civilized, sometimes to the point that we actually scoff at such a life. But oh do we really want it, deep down every man must admit it. Cowboy, it strikes fear and wonder and excitement into the heart of every boy and if you dig deep, in every grown man too.

To be a cowboy implies a freedom so exilirating its dangerous. To be a cowboy speaks of a ruggedness most men dare not dream of. To be a cowboy is to find out the answer to the question most of us fear the most: Do I have what it takes? The makings of a real man, handle wild beasts, survive off the land, protect ourselves from man and nature, are all wrapped up in what it means to be a real cowboy. Real cowboys, real men.

As I sat there--as those men wrestle steer to the ground with their bare hands; or get every bone in their body and screw in their head jarred loose on bareback buck or a snot-nosed bull; or run towards the bull while wearing face paint just to give the downed rider a moments safety by giving up their own--I knew every man has what it takes. It is what God made us for. He created us to tame and conquer the wild bests, to wow the ladies and provide for them. He made us to hunger for adventure and danger and take life by the horns and conquer evil. God made us to be cowboys.

Baby Better World or Better World Baby?

As a follower of Christ becoming a dad has added a whole new motivation and perspective to my calling. I simply want to lead people to the hope and peace found in Jesus' acceptence in order to make the world and future a safer place. I know this is really not the likely outcome but it is a thought I keep having.

What is more likely; that I can make the world a safer place for my child through spreading faith, hope, and love to others or that I can raise my child in faith, hope, and love to make the world a safer place? It is most likely both. Either way it seems a daunting task. I am glad God occasionally decides to grace me with a little bit of wisdom and insight because I am gonna need it on this one. Keep it coming!

I heard some lady being interviewed on Fox News the other day utter that stupid phrase, "It takes a village..." Has anybody noticed many parents today have relegated child care and child rearing to "the village." Noone seems to notice that "the village" kinda has dropped the ball and in turn they relegated these tasks "the village idiot."

Well, hands off village. A few friends, family, and most importantly mommy and daddy have this one covered.

THEY CALL ME BIG PAPA

I am going to be a dad, daddy, papa, faja. Isn't that crazy and amazing. It is cramazing! I created a life, and now I created a word to describe it! Not really, but anyway.

I am going to be responsible for another human being for every hour and minute of everyday from here on out. That is the single most exciting thing in my life and at the same time that is the single most terrifying thing in my life!!! Isn't that crazy that we choose something so scary and so exciting all at the same time.

I am journeying into fatherhood. That just still makes me laugh to think that, to put it into words. I must be insane. But I am with happiness. It is overwhelming and it all I know for the most part I just have to rely on God to help me out so that I don't screw the kid up.

I think of everything in my life up to this point, I just have a feelin anyway, that when I actually see this baby McMinn for the first time I will see more than ever before from God's perspective and when I am really paying attention during those times in life when you should be, I will see more closely into the Heart of God than I ever have before.

God has the Heart of a Father. I just hope and pray that I can tap into that.

We are having a baby. Jeepers. I have so many doubts and fears and concerns and wonders and questions and hopes and dreams and ideas. In a way it is almost laughable that God would trust us with such an important task. But He does so what does that say about His confidence in us. He doesn't leave us alone to do it, to raise a kid. He offers us His heart and His wisdom to do not the best that we can but hopefully in His strength do the best that He can.

For now and for a long time the question will remain, "Do I have what it takes?"

blog is such an ugly word, i prefer 'typing'

"I have no idea to this day what those two Italian ladies were singing about. Truth is, I don't want to know. Some things are best left unsaid. I'd like to think they were singing about something so beautiful, it can't be expressed in words, and makes your heart ache because of it. I tell you, those voices soared higher and farther than anybody in a gray place dares to dream. It was like some beautiful bird flapped into our drab little cage and made those walls dissolve away, and for the briefest of moments, every last man in Shawshank felt free." --Ellis Boyd 'Red' Redding (Morgan Freeman's character in Shawshank Redemption) after Andy Dufresne (Tim Robbins) breaks into the Warden's office and plays an opera record from the prison library over the loud speaker system for every inmate to hear.

"An encounter with a great work of art is a demand to change your life." --poet Rainer Maria Rilke

Art, music, beauty, creation all call out to the deepest part of our humanity, they all move in us in varied and infinite ways, but one thing that is certain, is these mediums communicate to our soul what words cannot. Deep within us we sense, we know, something somewhere has gone wrong. Aesthetics, the beauty of things create a tragic longing within our hearts to find wholeness, to desire peace, to want to be at rest. Do you sense it? Do you hide from it, run for cover? Does it overwhelm you?

Beauty points to an artist, a maestro, the creator, will you seek the source of beauty and the answer to what aches inside you with me? Go on a journey with me as I seek to find the source of truth and beauty. Along the way, I think we will discover all that our soul is longing for and so much more.

I like cotton candy, unique sodas, southern fried foods & chinese buffets. I enjoy the occassional fine cigar! I have a beautiful wife & 2 schnauzers. I love tex-mex.
AND...

...I believe the children are our future Teach them well and let them lead the way Show them all the beauty they possess inside ...and since i am a youth pastor i did it all without cussing or falling off the wagon ...maybe!?!?

it's a hard way to fall and it's an easy way down.

Today as i sat here at the computer i was listening to the new Ryan Adams & the Cardinals CD 'Jacksonville City Light.' The third track is a beautiful, remorse filled song of love lost and seeing that former lover with the 'new love.' Adams remembers the little things that he took for granted or perhaps caused him to love her in the first place. The chorus begins "And it's a hard way to fall and this ain't the easy way down."

Oddly enough I misheard the lyrics and the misinterpretation of those lyrics led me to this thought process I am about to share with you. At first because I was half-working, half-listening I thought the song was about cheating. And so when it got to the chorus the way I heard the lines were "And it's a hard way to fall and it’s an easy way to get there." That struck me as profound. On the service it seems contradictory and beyond that is seems a moot point since that is not the intention of the song neither the correct lyric. But bear with me if you will. If you are still reading at this point you might as well, right? Otherwise where is the reward?

This struck me as profound because I try to live as a Christ follower and a devoted husband in this sex-saturated, over-indulgent American consumerism we dare to call life I struggle, as any man, with impure thoughts. As a leader, or as a player-coach, as I think of myself I work with students and I walk with them in their struggles as well. Let me tell you why (misheard or not) this lyric struck me so. It rings true, in the context that I originally thought it was in when I misinterpreted it, which was a song about cheating.

"It's a hard way to fall," think about that. Is there anything as hurtful and destructive as adultery? As cheating on your spouse and the ramifications that has on your soul, on your partner, on your children, and on your family? We are in an America where it is so common that we take the consequences as just a happenstance of everyday life. That is so ridiculous to my mind to think that we have fallen so low. It is a hard way to fall. It is hard on everyone involved. It is hard on the soul and the psyche and the conscience and the kids. Does it stop there? How about beyond the immediate family? Has there ever been a father or mother who sees their own child’s marriage fall apart because their child was the adulterous spouse, who said "Now there is a son I am proud of," or "I raised her to cheat just like me."

No, of course not, but now we couch it in new terms so as to disguise the disgrace and shame with a false system of priorities. We say, "Well they just weren't happy," or "They weren't getting what they needed," and "They might as well have, they weren't in love anymore, anyway!" What? Huh? Where in the wedding vows does it say "until I fall out of love?" Where do we recite the lines, "until my needs are not met because it is all about me, until my happiness is not derived from this relationship any longer?"

Marriage is a covenant, love is a choice. Love is not an emotion, not merely an emotion. It is deeper and more meaningful then an emotion. Happy…sad…mad…love. Just reading those four words it is clear in my mind that one of the four stands out as different. Love does not even fit in the same category of our mind when we read the word on paper. Love…grumpy…annoyed…surprised. Again, which one doesn't fit? We categorize these words and love just doesn't fit. The others are moods. We know in our minds and our hearts that love is not a mood. We may think of it as an emotion but we still know that it is more than that.

"And it is a hard way to fall." We know this, we never set out in a relationship and say "This is beautiful, I love this person and I am gonna love them with all my heart until I get bored and fed up and have the opportunity to destroy the intimacy that we created together." No, we don't say that because we know that brings pain and anger and hurt and guilt. We know that when we fall, we fail. And a hard fall it is indeed. It is hard to get back up. Who will trust us if anyone? Can we even trust ourselves again?

"And it's an easy way to get there." This is so true when it comes to cheating, but not at first. We work ourselves to this point. We never enter a relationship looking for the way out, not usually anyway. Commitment-phobes, will have to wait for another misunderstood song to propel me into rhetorical prose. No, we always intend to make a relationship last but more and more these days we are failing. There are many reasons beyond the issue of adultery, but these two garbled lines of song have their limits. The fall is hard, but it comes easy, eventually.

We enter a relationship, hopefully more concerned about the happiness of the one we love over and above our own happiness. Otherwise what person on the other end of that commits? I am not so naive as to think no one ever gets together under false pretenses or false assumptions, but can it really be the majority? We get to the point where over time something draws our focus back to ourselves and our own needs and wants and desires. We begin to pour time and thought into these little fissures of expectation. They grow until our commitment if full of cracks and all crumbly at the edges. Our perceptions skewed and inwardly focused we think it is our love, our relationship that is broken.

In reality it is our lens of commitment that is tattered and torn but since our focus is on ourselves we don't see the difference. We decide to seek ways and means to get our needs met because they are so glaring and obvious to us now. If we were ever to be able stop at that moment, collect our thoughts and ask ourselves if our spouse feels the same way. What needs am I not meeting very well or even at all. But no usually by this point we are far beyond thinking of "the hard fall," and we are to the "easy way down" part.

For by now we have rationalized and done a fair job convincing ourselves that it is too late for a repair job. It is too broken, to tattered and torn and worn out, not worth fixing so why not just replace it. Men do this quite obviously in going for a newer, younger replacement.

For men, we can't help it right? We are dogs, pigs, animals. I can not help but see the obvious direct correlation to our American consumer-driven, evolutionary informed worldview, secular humanism degenerated to the point of nihilistic animalism. We are just animals. We are gonna do what animals do.

In one fail swoop, of little more than a hundred years, we have uneducated ourselves from rational, morally conscious, ethically capable human beings into soul-less animals in a dog-eat-dot, screw-or-be-screwed-over world. Am I touting a return to modernism and all it's trapping (for those who will even think to ask this question), no, certainly not!

I am fully and functionally a post-modern individual. But with the relativism of postmodernism there is still room for common sense and common decency, arguably more now so than there ever was during the height modernism. I reject that tired way of thinking. That way of thinking has created a Jerry Springer culture that is not based in reality. It basis in an evolutionary worldview that dehumanizes humans, devalues value, and elevates non-thinking creatures to have control over the thinking. How is it not based in reality? Reality can not be self-refuting. However, ill-formed, unreasoned, biased human opinion can and very often is self-refuting but that doesn't seem to stop us.

Evolutionary thought and teaching is the wide spread basis of the typical American worldview. Just awhile back Bill Mahr (who apparently is a well credentialed scholar and intellectual giant) was on Leno and he basically stated that evolution is a proven fact so for anyone to dissent they must be idiots. Wow, I guess I missed that major news flash that would have reverberated around the world until the roar was deafening. Evolution has become fact by default somewhere along the way so why are scientists still trying to prove it and find the first piece of evidence to support it. Not more evidence to support it, the first piece of evidence.

Evolutionary teaching is self-refuting for many reasons but here is just one very clear reason that everyone can understand. It denies the existence of entropy which is a proven law of physics to show that everything is moving towards chaos and disorder, everything is breaking down, getting worse; not evolving. Look at the ridiculousness with which evolutionary thought so succinctly is disproving itself. The more and more time passes in which evolution is taught to the masses and embraced by the majority, the more rapid social entropy progresses. The more and more society embraces the idea of evolution the faster and faster society as a whole unravels. One might argue that what I define as entropy is really just survival of the fittest. Come on do you believe that. The destruction of values and families and lives by evolutionary practices is not survival of the fittest. The fit aren't the ones surviving. Marriages are not surviving, kids are not surviving, no one is surviving.

The longer and deeper the evolutionary worldview penetrates our society and culture the faster society, culture, family, government, everything is disintegrating. It is right before our very eyes and everyone can see it. Well, everyone except for Bill Mahr. The fall is hard, but it is easy. It just takes time, time for entropy on a full blown molecular scientifically proven scale to flesh itself out. It just takes time to also reveal itself in a socially, relational test tube called a marriage and a family to see that entropy not evolution is being proven on a daily basis.

I'll Take Blue Light Special to Win in the Fourth, Please.

I used to work on the south side for a charitable organization. Our offices were in the same shopping center as a K-Mart. On windy days we would all gather by the water cooler at the windows to place our bets.
Now we did a lot of good for a lot of people; a whole lot of good. We had a food pantry, we helped people with bills, we even offered counseling. And we weren’t choosy either. We helped anybody and everybody, once or repeatedly. We offered all kinds of counseling for all kinds of people too. I am talking about crisis counseling, family counseling, suicide counseling, dependency and addiction counseling, crisis pregnancy counseling, premarital and marital counseling, relationship counseling, spiritual counseling, financial counseling, teen counseling. You name it-we offered it.
In fact there was one case in particular I remember was sort of a mixture of quite a few areas. I didn’t counsel this person myself, but of course I can’t reveal his name. This particular guy was lived in government subsidized housing for psychological reasons. His apartments were near our offices. Every day I would see him walking back and forth to K-Mart five and six times a day. Often times driving around, I would see him at various bus stops all over town. Apparently he spent his nights alone in his apartment or with some of his Section 8 buddies in the complex listening to dark metal and smoking large amounts of weed, or “the dope” as my mother-in-law would call it. Finally the day came when he came to us for help. He was convinced, and quite terrified I might add, that Satan had been entering his room at night and making more and more aggressive sexual advances. Well these advances had progressed to intercourse and now he was pregnant with Satan’s love child. Or would it be hate child? Anyway, this guy was freaky. Really freaky. Believe me, if Satan was going to spawn a half-human, half-fallen-angel seed it would not have been with this guy. I think even the Lord of the Air has hygiene standards. The real Satan would have surely chosen someone like Ashton Kutcher or the Dali Lhama or Adolf Hitler, almost anybody else.
Now I don’t really do counseling. My work with this organization focused more on the community outreach side of things. I don’t “counsel” people that well. I can give normal common sense advice. I can speak to groups, organize events, come up with creative solutions to certain problems, strategize and cast vision. But let’s just say I don’t really have much mercy, or patience with people that are in chronic need of help with the same emotional issues. We had this one counselor, actually two counting his wife, they both had a gift for mercy. This couple, it was sick really, they had mercy oozing from them like extra-virgin olive oil does off the chin of that always way-too-fat-guy in the mob. You know the guy, usually he is called something like Tiny, or Little Sal - like, what the freak? Who is that kidding, is that suppose to be a friggin’ joke? Friggin’ hilarious, wise guys, who gave ‘em that name? Sorry. Actually, we have counseled some of these local goombas, too, believe it or not. Of course it will be along time before you catch me writing about them. Maybe after I know they are all sleeping with the fishes. I ain’t friggin’ kidding yous! Anyway I don’t have mercy, as I was saying, at least not in large endless supply as those gifted in counseling do. I had it in mind to tell the boy carrying Satan’s seed to go to Planned Parenthood because they are better at pushing people towards abortion.
Or take “Mary,” as we’ll call her. A short little white lady in her mid-fifties with paranoid schizophrenia. She got the main number to our offices and after that it was the lottery from hell just answering the phone. Sometimes she would have this really horrible Caribbean accent which immediately elicited only one response from me. I would put her on hold and she would talk until she was finished with whatever she was rambling on about, or maybe switched to a new person in her head or whatever, and eventually she would hang-up. Sometimes it would take the line 30 minutes or longer to clear. Other times were more interesting to say the least. The city bus drivers were always out to get her. Apparently, the evil, dastardlies were backing a bus up to her apartment at night, sliding her window open ever so slightly, and piping in the exhaust fumes to kill her in her sleep. Every morning about 8:30 I would see her shuffle in front of our offices to K-Mart and I’d sigh a sad sigh that the bus drivers, once again, had not succeeded. I wondered why they didn’t just use a pillow, but thought better of actually saying it aloud. Guess that means I do have just a little bit of mercy.
Anyway, we would line up on windy days to watch the cart races. Not just any cart races. I am talking about the unmanned K-mart shopping cart races. Sometimes they would weave and bob in and out of parked cars as if they were bats equipped with incredible sonar capabilities. Most of the time however, they would just cream whatever was in their wind-driven path. Often they were really past most of the cars which remained on the western half of the lot, the K-Mart side. Our side had fewer cars and so exposed these shopping cart chariots to many other options and wide open track to gain speed and run wide open. Sometimes they would fly across the lot to the edge and hit those parking barriers that always scrap the under side of your bumper if you pull in too close. Man when they hit those things, whoa Nelly! It was always fun trying to decide whether or not they were going to do a Triple Salkow, or a McTwist 180 Heelside, or a clumsy summersault. Once I saw one weave though several rows of cars only glancing one or two, opening up and gaining speed to go right out of the drive way of the K-Mart parking lot, across two lanes of minimal traffic, into the Burger King entrance on the opposite side of the street, jump the curb at Burger King and crash into their big cedar bushes out front. That was my lucky day because I had called it. Of course I didn’t call it out loud ahead of time because that was just too big a gamble, but I called it. I don’t care if you believe me. Man those carts would really cream those cars though. Oh man the laughs we had watching a cart take on the paint job of a brand new Escalade. What are you doing driving an Escalade going to K-Mart, anyway? Isn’t Target more to your liking? I have seen on some very rare occasions, a cart go between the little parking bumps, across the 3 foot wide gravel strip next to the sidewalk, onto the sidewalk and off the curb into the street narrowly being missed by an oncoming motor vehicle; or to cause two cars to narrowly avoid hitting the cart whilst also barely miss having a wreck themselves.
Man I miss those days, standing at the water cool, with a little upside down dunce cap of a cup, looking out the window, watching those chrome and plastic wind propelled consumer chariots race like stock cars on their own blacktop demolition derby track.
The department I was head of there at those offices once organized over 200 Christmas presents for kids in a low income apartment complex and we gave away 22 turkeys and twice as many bags of groceries to those same families.
Only that wind coming from the west, down off the mountains, being heated up by the hot desert floor could set those carts blazing a path for Burger King and beyond. Place your bets.