I love it when a plan comes together.

Long, long ago, in a land before Chuck Norris, there was a crime fighting, kick boxing bunch of renegades called The A Team, led by their cunning leader, the cigar chomping Colonel John Hannibal Smith.

Some time near the ending of each of their weekly crisis, when it was obvious things were going their way but the credits had not yet rolled, Hannibal would light up a cuban and announce to anyone in the general vicinity (usually B.A. Barracus, drugged for the flight home), "I love it when a plan comes together....".

Today at lunch, I had my Hannibal moment, minus the cigar.

After weeks of searching, phone calls, emails and wondering, we landed a venue for the School of Intercession AND TheCall2Pastors in Cincinnati. Immediately prior to TheCall Ohio, you'll find us at TriCounty Assembly of God, a church pastored by our long time friend Brad Rosenburg (and coincidentally, where Kelsey and I were married!).

While on the phone landing that arrangement, I got two other calls from Montgomery, Alabama, confirming that the city had OK'd use of the Crampton Bowl for The Call (Sweet Home) Alabama. OK, the "Sweet Home" is not technically part of the title, but we're using it informally around the office....join us for TheCall Alabama, April 5th.

So, I can finally say it. I love it when a plan comes together. Hannibal and his gold chain wearing van driver got nothing on this team.

This is my life.

Listening to my Blackberry ping tonight, I was reminded of this cartoon from the Indexed blog. As much as I love doing TheCall in different cities...might be nice to have more than one in Central time next year.

Back from Bartlesville...

We did a high speed trip to the thriving Oilopolis of Bartlesville, Oklahoma for a Call rally yesterday, leaving after Zion's 1pm drum lesson.

It was fun to reconnect with the happy Keener clan. Travis and Jen spent time in east Tennessee while we lived there - now they're youth sponsors in Bartlesville at the same church where Darrell and Faith Wooten pastor. Darrell and I were in college together and Faith and Kelsey were in high school together. Go figure.

The drive to and from was punctuated by a quick trip through Iola, Kansas - the little burg where Kelsey and I briefly lived after graduating from college. Of course, I called the other car in the caravan and made them put me on the speaker phone so I could narrate the journey. They were kind enough to pretend to be interested.

We got home about 1:30am. As Kelsey put it, this glamorous life of travel (to Bartlesville?) is not easy.

Child of Wonder.

We went to a movie the other night. A real movie, meaning it did not involve singing vegetables. The movie did most things that we want movies to do, meaning it made us think a little, laugh a little, and part with $8 per head.

I didn't have huge expectations for the movie - August Rush...reviews were generally not good, complaining that it was unrealistic. That's ok. It was about a little boy who runs away from an orphanage to New York City where he instantly becomes a guitar virtuoso, wins a scholarship, and quickly ends up on stage in Central Park conducting a massive orchestra and reunited with his parents, who are reunited with one another at the exact same time. I'm not sure what part of that the critics expected to be portrayed realistically.

What the movie did do well though was make me think about Zion. Long term blog readers and youtube lurkers know Zion to be quite the musician. He lives and breathes for the guitar and drums. Recently, he's started singing as well (see clip in right sidebar). While I don't know everything God has for this little guy, it's obvious that he feels music at a level that most of us don't. It's not an alternate reality for him. It is reality and everything other than music is pretty much a bothersome exercise...except for swords, which he likes nearly as much as his guitar, I believe because he accurately sees them as slightly lesser forms of weaponry.

This morning in the prayer room, I found myself reading the early chapters of Samuel's life and seeing Zi's face. I weighed Hannah's sacrifice...her yearly trek to the temple with a little hand made robe for the boy that she knew was not fully her own, blinking away tears as she left him there yet again. I thought of the weight of Samuel growing up in the presence of God, remaining pure before the Lord even as Eli's sons, the priests in the the temple, lived in open sin. I read of Samuel hearing The Voice and marveled at the fact that, even without understanding it at first, he showed his character by reporting for duty before Eli.

Some times, it's not hard to imagine that we're raising a Samuel. A set apart one. A wide eyed boy in a fallen world. A child of wonder...a supernatural musician to minister before the Lord like Samuel did as a small boy.

I'm praying for the strength to live the prayer of Hannah...that no matter the cost, I'll say "Therefore I also have lent him to the LORD; as long as he lives he shall be lent to the LORD.”

There is no greater honor.

another reason to love missionaries.

Around here we refer to the missionary spirit. Of course, we're talking about zeal and having the spirit of one who will overcome...but I think it goes far beyond that. All the way to duct tape. Missionaries are used to making do...and they can find a way to do almost anything on no money, no contacts, and no clue.

I had this thought this morning as I drove to church and passed a car I recognized....because years ago, someone gave me that car. It had 175,000 miles on it at the time and someone told them it was worthless, so they gave it to me to sell to raise money to go to Burning Man. I turned it for $1,000 - it was worth twice that, but I sold it to a missionary. Who sold it to another. Who gave it to someone. It's still at IHOP, although I don't know who owns it anymore. This throw away car refuses to go away.

What's exceptionally funny is this has happened to me two other times. The car I saw today was a Mazda. About four years ago someone gave me a Volvo. I loved the car - regrettably, it burst into flames under the hood while driving home from the airport one day. Because it was a Volvo, I didn't really notice. No lack of power, no change in trajectory, and eventually the fire apparently went out, but not until it had burned off a spark plug wire. I didn't discover this until I got home, because as I said, the Volvo kept chugging.

Eventually someone gave me an older Acura Legend and I in turn gave the Volvo away to an IHOPer with a connect at the Volvo dealer. I saw it a while back and it's running great.

I drove the Legend for months until we left for DC where didn't seem practical to have two cars, and gave it to another IHOPer. I think I still see it in the IHOP parking lot from time to time (I'm not sure - I didn't really drive it long enough to make any distinguishing marks on the exterior like the gas cover lid I ripped off the Volvo).

I love missionaries and I love duct tape. This is the place for me.

Attending the University of iPod

Ok, let's get something straight. Pink Floyd was wrong. You do need education. That doesn't mean you need to spend a lot of money or time in a classroom, however...education comes in a variety of ways, and now, it comes for free on your iPod.

I ran across an article in the LA Times that clued me into one of the great pointy-head freebies of all time: Major universities are posting many of their classes on iTunes for free download.

Understand, we're not talking about Sally Struthers' "Become a Paralegal" classes, either. Through Apple's iTunes University, schools like Berkeley, Stanford, MIT and Yale are allowing the rest of us to listen in on the best they have to offer, without tuition. Heck, even without Apple's .99 cent download charge!

Granted, it's true that you can't get a diploma through iTunes U (yet), but you can learn. And isn't that why people were supposed to go to school anyway? The diploma was something conjured up to make people feel better about amassing student loans. With iTunes U, you won't have any student loans, so don't sweat it.

My only problem now is to decide if I want to eavesdrop on the Yale School of Management or MIT's Aircraft Systems Engineering class.

This is ground breaking. Ignorance is running out of places to hide. Do not give it sanctuary.

Huh

Standing in front of Barnes and Noble...I just saw a Duece-and-a-half roll by, military green, of course. A sign on the back read: Corporate Machine Gun Rentals.
No joke.

Corporate.
Machine Gun.
Rentals.

Selah on that one for a while.

Sent on the fly from my BlackBerry

Thanksgiving Recap...

The two geniuses, Zion and Friar Cluck, getting ready to fry the turkey. Zion is hardcore into assembly while Sean reads the instructions first. Given the involvement of 350 degree oil and an open flame, I was a bit concerned to realize he hadn't already memorized them. Nevertheless, the bird was fine.


I realized the other day that it's been a while since I blogged a good photo of Jackson. He's now 14, taller and bulkier than me...but I still put him in the leaves today in the front yard. Yes, because I can. Age and treachery will overcome youth and strength every time.


Zoe and Grandma B, who Zoe loves with the fervor that she normally reserves for...uh, ok, she reserves no fervor for anything. She loves everyone and everything, particularly her big Curious George stuffed monkey. She saw Curious George on tv in Grandma's room the other morning and was stunned - he walks! He's alive!


Left to right - back row: Danielle & Sean Henry, Mary Gliserman, Jessica Gliserman, Sarah 'Spunky' Kim, Grandma B, and yours truly.
Left to right - front row: Emily Gliserman, Grayson, Zion, Jackson & Kelsey
Low, front and facing backwards: Zoe
Missing: Joseph Gliserman (taking the shot) Mark Griffo, Israel and Judah Henry (who made early exits).

I love this picture if only for the face Zion is making. Click it to enlarge....

Only the uninitiated would think so....

OK, I admire this woman's fervor, even if I disagree with almost everything she says...but this one line nearly made me spit my coffee into my (newly replaced) keyboard...

"Having children is selfish. It's all about maintaining your genetic line at the expense of the planet."

I hate to play this card, lady, but anyone who thinks that having kids is selfish has never had one. Granted, people get into parenthood through a variety of situations, but once they're there, they quickly learn that having children is by necessity one of the most selfless acts a human is capable of.

I'm reminded of the nun who was mopping up vomit on her hands and knees in an orphanage. A visitor saw this an muttered "You couldn't pay me enough to do that....".

The Sister looked up at the visitor and calmly said "You couldn't pay me enough either."

teaching files updated...

I uploaded the teaching section of RandyandKelsey.com with a message I preached at ICLV on the Wednesday before TheCall Las Vegas.

In this message, I explore some thoughts about the Rewiring of the American Dream. Those thoughts are still in the cooker, but I believe I'll look back at the introduction from this message as the raw materials of a more finished written work down the road.

The evening this was recorded was a very emotional connect for me on several levels - we had invested a lot of hours, prayer and pondering into the Las Vegas event and we were taking Zoe back to Las Vegas (where we'd adopted her just over a year before).

Add to that the fact that we'd rushed from the airport to In-n-Out to the church, having a minor traffic accident on the way (no scratch, no foul...). I felt incredibly scattered as I walked on to the stage, but it seemed to land well.

Also updated the front page with TheCall Ohio video. :)

ha!

There is a song we do here at IHOP - an older song, really, although we've just started singing it here in the last six months. I have noticed that IHOP worship leaders feel strangely compelled to tweak it to make it their own - meaning that while six bands may play the song, each band adds a riff, a line, a syncopated handclap or line dance, I'm no sure why they feel strangely compelled to do so...but it's fun.

Derek's doing it this morning, backed up by a synthesized version of the Tower of Power. Ha! IHOP to the soundtrack of Back to the Future. 1.2 million gigawatts, Derek, what were you thinking?!?

As for the song, I'm just waiting for someone to bust out the country version. :)

6am. Thanksgiving Day / International House of Prayer

The warmth of the room melds with the resonance of the cello playing this morning. Within a few minutes, sound and skin temperature become one feeling. I'm not doing it justice, I know...but there are times when one's senses draw from different sources to manifest one sensation.

Call it what you want. Being 'in the moment' sounds a little metaphysical, but it's what I feel in this place this morning. This is what it feels like when I drop by in the evenings for a moment - that I'd really like to just sit down and be here rather than run back out in the cold.

I'm reminded of being interviewed on camera for a curriculum that was being produced on my last day on staff at VCC. During the course of the discussion, the interviewer asked what I was going to do next (after leaving VCC). I was surprised at the emotion that rose in my voice when I told him that having proven that I knew how to do things, I wanted to learn how to be something.(1) What I didn't have language for, but am now beginning to understand, is that I wanted to learn what it means to be before God.

Don't lump this in with general thoughts about how great IHOP is. I smile at those who talk of the glory of IHOP. At 6am on Thanksgiving Day, that mystique is almost completely gone. All that is in the room is God and some people who want Him. No glory cloud, no empty wheel chairs...although we'd be up for either. My guess is if one of those two showed up, the place would fill pretty quickly.

In moments like these, I am acutely aware of something that might otherwise be thought of as a given: I really want to be here.

It's not always been like this. In our four years in the prayer room, I've not always wanted to be here...and to be completely honest, even now the want wavers at times. Thankfully, these days, it wavers for a moment rather than month. My wanting to be here carries me when finances, juggled roles and the mild stigma of doing something that only a narrow, narrow percentage of my friends understand conspires to run me out of town. I want to be here more than I want money, clarity or even the understanding of others.

Anyway, I'm thinking about the nature of wanting, and the surprise I find in my own heart at my want to be here. A want is a funny thing. You can't demand that it happen. You can do things by force of will, but you can't force your will to do much of anything. Desire has a mind of it's own. You can manifest it, but you can't make it. You can't demand yourself into wanting to be or do something any more than you can make a calculating decision to fall madly in love.

I'm thankful for wanting to be here this morning. Thankful that, even for a moment, I identify with David, the shepherd poet king, who wrote "...earth has nothing I desire but you."

Everything else is Thanksgiving gravy.

_____

(1) Don't interpret this as a negative on the church we were serving in. The statement had much more to do with my own heart and mind than where we were serving.

In relation to the prior post...

The photo below is of the man who is actually going to be preparing our bird tomorrow. Please pray. I haven't seen these sort of flames anywhere but Black Rock City. Maybe I'll wear my beads and my signature Playa Hat. Or just Nomex.



And this article is probably just a coincidence. I'm really not worried. Really.

Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow, we fry.

You're not safe at home...

From an Iowa TV Station:

"He said when the corn buried the house, he thought the family was gone."

If that's not a caption for the Far Side, I don't know what is.

Options.

I am presently torn between my burning desire to change the world and the truth that I'm equally as fulfilled using my Black and Decker leaf blower, listening to Skynard on the iPod, and watching my boys ride their bikes. It would seem I need to be choosing between these two things here at some point, but I can't.

For example, I took my umpteenth plane ride this weekend to meet with local and national leaders about a massive gathering involving thousands of people and more sound gear than the original Woodstock. In the final minutes of the trip, one of my traveling companions asked me what I wanted to do next.

I had to think about it.

Finally, I said "I'm not sure. I've certainly got ideas cooking, but in reality, I love being the dad of four kids. I have a great wife. If this is all I get...I still end up having done pretty well."

I meant it with all my heart. Even this afternoon, I was way more excited about hanging with my kids than I was any sort of professional accomplishment I might be finding...

So why do I feel slighted if I get passed over for an exciting assignment? Why do I feel compelled to put my best foot forward in situations that I know will mean getting recognized? If this suburban, leaf blowing, diaper changing reality is all that fulfilling, why do I feel pressured to manifest greatness in some other realm?

This is the point where a good writer would resolve the tension, concluding the blog entry with some textual panacea that leaves the reader feeling good and the writer looking smart.

I have no such summary...just the cognitive dissonance that involves contentment, desire, and the unusual position of fully owning both.

Well, it's not Pat Robertson.

Mike Huckabee picked up an endorsement from Jerry Jenkins, who apparently heard about the buzz from Robertson picking Rudy Guiliani and did not want to find himself Left Behind.

Status Update

Location: Fridays resturant, Indy airport
Soundtrack: crazy dance music
Topic: Debate over whether the horn hanging on the wall is a baritone or fluglehorn.
Verdict: fluglehorn

Sent on the fly from my BlackBerry

Jackson's thoughts on God, leaves and a lesson from a little brother.

Great post, Jackson! I'll see you in a few hours, buddy.

Now this is interesting.

I think Mitt Romney must be seeing Mike Huckabee in is nightmares. He's outspending and outstaffing Huckabee by a ratio of 10:1 and Huckabee's gaining like a freight train in Iowa. Amazing.

Roadamonium

Yes, you read that right. "Roadamonium" is a Randomonium article written from the road. In this case, back in Cincinnati, heading to Indy for a flight home today. Let Roadamonium begin:

• We Skybussed into Columbus late Saturday/early Sunday AM. Let it be known, if that were the last airline out of a war ravaged country, I would probably still walk. Bad news.

• Props to Landmark for their openhandedness. They loaned us a building and a soundman for Saturday night's rally based one one cold phone call. We (heart) Landmark & Pastor Matt Holman.

• Yesterday, I set some sort of weird ecumenical record by being one of the only people to ever hang out with this guy and this guy in the same day. I want a trophy.

• Someone blew a shofar in our local leaders' meeting this morning....not unheard of in our world. Odd part was that it was in Panera Bread.

• Connected with some long time friends I haven't seen in a long time this morning. Andy Ransdell and Matt Massey were at the meeting (to be clear, Andy did not blow the shofar). We were cohorts from VCC. They have since gone on to plant churches and I have gone on to fly Skybus. Matt asked me to speak at Northstar in January - sounds like big fun.

It does not give one confidence when the airline ticket taker is wearing baggy, boxer-exposing basketball shorts.

Skybus. 'Nuff said.

Sent on the fly from my BlackBerry

a little photo action...

Saturday afternoon @ the Dunn

It's just after lunch and I'm crashed in the overstuffed chairs at Dunn Brothers, surrounded by my three sons who are inundated with homework. Jackson is working on his debate presentation. Grayson is reading. Zion is drawing lines from letter combos to pictures like Dog and Boy and Chrysanthemum. Well, Dog and Boy anyway.

For the pleasure of watching these three work (and free wifi), I purchased two chai lattes, an iced carmela and a root beer soda. This is a pittance compared to the fun I'm having right now. I blog a lot about Zoe, and she will forever be The Princess...but I love my sons dearly. They are incredibly unique.

This morning we had a brief family meeting over the idea of a Christmas tree, given the propensity of The Princess to pull such things over. We actually toyed with the idea of going sans Christmas Tree, upon which Zion leaped off the couch, spread both arms wide in dramatic expression, and with a grin that completely took over his head, declared "Guys! We can't do that! What's Christmas without a Christmas Tree."

Dead silence from the crowd.

Finally, I dead panned "Ok little Johnny. You got the part in the Christmas play."

Much laughter erupted.

thoughts on getting old...

I've been thinking a little about what it means to be old. It's not as simple as you would expect. The number of someone's age is fairly easy to ascertain, but the nature of their age is something entirely different. Some people are old at 30, while others are young at 75. What makes the difference?

All this has been on my mind recently as I've navigated some things with other people...they were doing them in a way that I would have termed 'old', although in most cases, our age difference wasn't enough to justify the term. In other words, if they were old, I wasn't far behind...but talking to them felt like talking to an ancestor. They wanted to run an event that would have worked great. In the 80's. I balked...and wondered "why do I see this so differently?"

In some cases, I meet people who are numerically younger and still felt like old people to me. If it's not a number, what does it mean to be old?

The best way I can describe it is this...as you age, you grow decreasingly aware of your changing surroundings. At the young end of the spectrum, you notice every change of the wind in fashion, music, and thinking. That's not healthy long term, so by God's design, you mature..and you're affected less by those things...but as some point, you don't notice them at all. You begin to think that the world is frozen in time - that opinions, methods, and perspectives never change....particularly your own. This all happens at wildly varying rates....hence all the young old people and old young people.

The secret of staying young has little to do with botox or a fountain of youth. It has more to do with keeping your eyes off yourself and on others - not for their lead, necessarily, but for cues of life. If you can take it in, you can walk it out.

additional resources/thoughts
If you find this article surprising, you're edging towards old. If you think IM indicates the writer missed an apostrophe, you really need to follow the link.

Watching the debate...

I'm watching the webstream of the Democrats' debate on CNN tonight. I got a kick out of the fact that they're duking it out at UNLV's Thomas & Mack. Seems like we were just there....

It's interesting to get all these candidates lined up in one place.

In response to asking whether or not he supported drivers licenses for illegal immigrants, Barak Obama just said illegal immigrants did not come to the US to go to In-n-Out Burger. I think he's wrong. I also think he's ducking the question. Eventually Wolf Blitzer pushed him to say 'yes, they should get licenses.' So I guess they do want to go to In-n-Out, although mostly they just go to Home Depot.

Dennis Kucinich just told us there are no illegal immigrants, only undocumented ones. That got cheers in Las Vegas, but jeers from my kitchen table, because if we really documented some of these folks, we'd discover they're here illegally. It seems to me documentation is their worst enemy. So we give them a drivers' license?

The governor of New Mexico just introduced himself to the crowd 20 minutes into the debate. And I still don't remember his name. It's Bill Richardson, and I had to look it up.

Uhoh, in response to a direct question, Richardson just told Wolf Blitzer that human rights are more important than national security. Stick a fork in him. Stick a fork in anyone who answered that question straight, because there was no winning. He's done. Kudos to Obama, who artfully pointed out that the two concepts are not contradictory. Great dodge of a question that no one could answer well.

John Edwards, in spite of his populace posturing, comes off like a complaining, spoiled rich kid. He is living proof that it is possible to have hair that really is too good.

Chris Dodd quickly slips into Gingrichesque lecturing, as if Thomas and Mack were a classroom full of college freshman and he is there to set us straight. I don't think anyone likes to be lectured.

Hillary is a little bristly. She looks tough though. I think she could whoop Barak, even though he appears to have a negative amount of body fat. And I bet she could beat Edwards arm wrestling.

Joe Biden makes more sense than any of the rest. This is probably more a reflection on the field than a supporting comment for Joe Biden.

Randomonium 11.14.07

I've been playing Mr. Mom for a few days. We returned from Cinci late Monday evening and Kelsey flew to DC at noon on Tuesday, where she's scouting the land and attending a meeting of prayer leaders, politicians and business leaders. She called me last night as she drove past the White House and again today, as she went to eat Cosi bread. She's got an ornery streak. And she blogged again....

As I get Zion to sleep, Jackson is out in the kitchen making his famous cookies. The boy can flat out make cookies in an amazing way. For this, oh Lord, we thank thee....

I've been on a kick to tidy up my digital life as well as develop some smoother scheduling practices. This, along with a busy team necessitate an online calendar that can be altered by an assistant. Enter Google Calendar. My only problem was I'm a diehard iCal fan, and iCal syncs with the Blackberry. Until now, there was no way to get Google Calendar and iCal to talk.

Enter SpanningSync. This little piece of digital lovin' syncs - you guessed it - Google Calendar and iCal. Now I can kick an email to the Wonder Assistant and ask her to schedule something - she can look at my Google Calendar and set up the meeting. Every 30 minutes my powerbook automatically syncs Google and iCal. Once or twice a day I sync iCal and the Blackberry. BOOM. It's a beautiful thing.

Ok, it's hard to defend a $32,000 VW Rabbit that weighs 3,400 lbs and gets 18mpg. But it's also hard to catch it. I want one. Plus, it's got 4wd. Good for the snow. :)

And, in the news....

GLEN ST. MARY, Fla. -- Mysterious ape sightings are bringing excitement to a sleepy Florida town. Ha. I'll tell you what happened. Sasquatch retired to Florida to play golf, that's what. Obviously, the Abominable Snowman will not follow.

Get out (of) the Vote...

The irony of this story landing the day after Veteran's Day is unbelievable. How much do NYU students value their right to vote? Just make them an offer...

"Two-thirds say they'll do it for a year's tuition. And for a few, even an iPod touch will do. That's what NYU students said they'd take in exchange for their right to vote in the next presidential election, a recent survey by an NYU journalism class found. Only 20 percent said they'd exchange their vote for an iPod touch. 66 percent said they'd forfeit their vote for a free ride to NYU. And half said they'd give up the right to vote forever for $1 million....but, they also overwhelmingly lauded the importance of voting."

I'm sure they did.

Did I mention my Uncle Rueben passed away a few days ago? He was a WW II vet. Interesting, because even though he fought his way across Europe, I'm not sure if he even knew what an iPod was.

Worst joke in a long time...

Direct from an email exchange with my dear wife....

KELSEY: Leopard has made my computer dog slow.

RANDY: We need to buy you some more RAM.

KELSEY: God will provide the RAM! LOLOLOLOLOL!!!!


With apologies to Ray Boltz fans all across Asia.

The best part of coming home from a roadtrip...

We got home late tonight...going through the mail and found a package with my name on it.

Turns out that after reading the Randomonium post on the big Punkin' Chunkin' championship in Deleware, some dear friends somehow got their hands on a commemorative t-shirt, which they promptly mailed to me.

I shall soon be sporting it loud and proud in TheCall office.

Punkin' Chunkers, we show our pride!

Thanks, D & G! I love it!

Preachapalooza Conclusia

Kelsey and I are done with a very busy weekend in Cincinnati, where we came up one short of our all time record for speaking engagements in one extended weekend.

• We split 8 Omega sessions at the Cincinnati House of Prayer.
• Kelsey spoke at the Friday morning meeting of Transformations Cincinnati NKY
• I did the two Sunday AM's at Westside Vineyard, where I met a few blog readers!
  
• Kelsey did tonight's pre-Call rally at Christian Life Center.

Conclusions:

• We really like to teach...but this was a busy couple of days. We did 13 sessions in Souix Falls, SD earlier this year, but only in 2 locations and they were much closer together! Come to think of it, we also left directly for vacation after that...
  
• Kelsey does better than I do in typical church settings. I thrive in funky venues. I dug speaking at Westside's theatre. Kelsey was off the CHARTS tonight at CLC, where 300 people jammed into the 250 seat auditorium. Somebody he'p me!
  
• Traveling with Zoe is MUCH easier when Mercy comes with us! Shout outs to the Wonder Assistant for serving way the heck beyond the call of duty.

Between services....

I love church in a theatre. There's a decided vibe in a church where you can buy cologne in the mens room.

Sent on the fly from my BlackBerry

Teaching on the west side...

I'm blogging from a theater in the luxurious west side of Cinci, where I'm teaching in 2 services this morning.

Yikes. I forgot how much work portachurch was. Props to Tim and the Westside Vineyard crew!

Sent on the fly from my BlackBerry

Dont' mess with Momma

"The views of my mother are not necessarily the views of mine," McCain chimed in.

“Well, that’s my view. You asked me,” Mrs. McCain followed.

specifics here

goodbetterbest

Sitting in the back listening to my wife teach: Good
Watching my wife teach with her funky new tutone hairdo: Better
Enjoying my wife's teaching while enjoying a triple shot Americano: Best

Holy Convergence of Streams, Batman.

Once in a while, your worlds just come crashing together.

This guy speaks here on Friday, December 7.

C'mon!

Idealists vs. Pragmatists

Pat Robertson's recent endorsement of Rudy Guliani has accentuated a long running struggle in Washington - indeed, in the hearts of all men - between idealism and pragmatism.

Idealists are those who will hold to the purity of an idea at all costs. Pragmatists are those willing to compromise on nearly any point if it means some measure of progress.

Robertson's endorsement was a clearly pragmatic move. Rudy is wrong on all the points that matter and half the ones that don't, but he's looking like a front runner. Petrified of a third Clinton term, Robertson apparently decided he'd best lend his support to the only person who he thinks might beat her.

My guess is his endorsement isn't a vote for Rudy, it's a vote against Hillary. It's purely pragmatic. It also is a dark mark on evangelical Christianity.

Today, CNN's Roland S. Martin wrote:

Evangelicals cursed and screamed when President Clinton had an affair in the White House, but it's clear they are willing to overlook the past marital failures of Giuliani, his fractured relationship with his children and his support for gay and abortion rights when mayor of New York. Those are not the family values they have beaten into the nation's consciousness for nearly 30 years.

This isn't the Rapture when Christians say Jesus will return to Earth, but it is the day of reckoning for conservative evangelicals. Will they abide by their faith and absolute opposition to abortion and homosexuality being first and foremost, or bend to the will of the party?

For years I have maintained that the focus of evangelicals was never really principles of the faith but the Republican Party. By aligning themselves with the GOP, they've put themselves in this position.

Robertson's pragmatism has put him in the distasteful position of endorsing a candidate who stands squarely against him on the issues that Robertson would lecture the nation on - gay rights, abortion, etc. With this endorsement, does Robertson have any moral authority with which to speak on this issues?

Electing Hillary is not the worst thing that could happen to the church. Surrendering our ideals on the altar of political expediency is.

Ted Kennedy is a pragmatist - he's Capitol Hill's host of Let's Make a Deal. John Quincy Adams was an idealist - whose refusal to keep quiet about the evils of slavery nearly cost him everything. At the end of the day, when your grandkids are looking up at you, who would you rather be?

be warned

With Pat Robertson's apparent plans of endorsing Rudy Guiliani, I am about to start my cyclical political ranting.

I am only posting this to give the more squeemish among you an opportunity to unsubscribe if you feel you must.

This kid is in real trouble.

Remember when you t.p.'d the principal's house and thought you'd pulled off the bravest prank in history? Somebody just one upped you, and he may never see daylight...

[Charlotte Observer] A 17-year-old Hopewell High student was apparently acting on a dare when he did a fly-over prank at a Hopewell High football game Friday, at one point dipping below the stadium lights.

Charlotte-Mecklenburg Schools officials said Sunday that the teen pilot and two teen passengers flew the length of the field three times around 8 p.m. The plane reportedly came within feet of a flag pole.

On the final pass, a pair of tennis shoes and a football dropped from the single-engine Cessna 172 into the end zone, officials said.

(The plane...) was quickly identified as being rented from Lincoln County Regional Airport. That’s where Lincoln County sheriff’s deputies were waiting when it landed.

Detained at the airport for questioning were the 17-year-old pilot who had rented the plane and his passengers, another 17-year-old Hopewell student and an 18-year-old Hopewell graduate.

minor rework to randyandkelsey.com

Perhaps rework is a strong word.

More like 'fixed a few links, swapped a few mp3's and added the inevitably 'donate' button.

Speaking of which, there it is over to the right! My how those things migrate....

Mr Mom

Kelsey flew to Dallas yesterday so she could speak there this morning, taking Jackson as her traveling companion / security guard. I stayed home with Grayson, Zion and Zoe to play Mr. Mom.

I've done this before. It's not brain surgery. Last night for dinner, rather than the typical Mr. Mom mac and cheese, I served grilled salmon, veggies and salad. The boys ate it like there was no tomorrow, and a good thing too...because my attempt at homemade pancakes this morning was nothing less than abysmal. They quickly pronounced them to be "a little like quesadillas!", with apologies to our friends south of the border...

So I managed feeding everyone, but it was during getting ready for church that I hit a wall - what to do with Zoe's hair. We love Zoe's hair, but it does things that defy gravity. Some times we affectionately refer to it as the Zo-Fro. See below for an approximation of what I had to work with.


Understand that I am at a distinct disadvantage on at least three fronts.

1) I'm disadvantaged because of time lapse. I'm out of practice on hair. It's been over seven years since I razored my head, and some things are NOT just like a bicycle, if you get my drift.

2) I'm disadvantaged because of gender. I can do 3 boys - just comb it down in front. But this is a girl, and girls dictate a bit more flair.

3) I'm disadvantaged because of race. I had white guy hair, back when I had hair. Now I'm looking at this gorgeous head of afro-latino mix going "uh.....".

After trying to insert a number of hair bows and clips, I finally gave up and went with the ol' standard, the headband. If you were in church, you can testify, she didn't look TOO bad, but if anything, I learned that I've got to figure this out. Poor kid can't wear a headband the rest of her life.

Saturday Morning Playlist

It's a laze around the house, do the dishes, kids reading, baby laughing, noon soccer game Saturday morning. The scrambled playlist for such a day as this:

Kate Miner
The Fray
LifeHouse
Counting Crows
Eoghan Heaslip

In listening, I'm reminded that we all hoped back in the 80's that Joan Jett would come to Jesus but stay hip. Turns out she did...softened her look a bit and renamed herself Kate Miner.

Life imitatating art. Well, sort of.

You can now view a trailer for "What would Jesus Buy?", destributed by AOL, very likely at Walmart.


While at Walmart, you can buy Jesus Himself as a 12 inch talking action figured (I'd hesitate to call Him a doll).

So the question is not merely "What would Jesus buy?" but "Who will buy Jesus?" and will anyone have the nerve to discount Him after Christmas.

Strange Twist: two years ago, I enjoyed a cup of coffee with Reverend Billy, his lovely wife, and our mutual friend, Andie. It was not at Walmart though.

What do Sting and I have in common?

One word: Synchronicity.

Allow me to explain myself.

In recent weeks, my email load has gotten to be ridiculous...and that comes from someone who prefers email to the phone, the telegraph, or the face to face conversation at times. As TheCall ramps up and a hundred other things are going, I found myself getting buried. I love an empty inbox. Unfortunately, I was closing the computer with 40-100 emails left undealt with. The next day, another 150 would arrive. I'd thin them out but never quite get to zero.

The Blackberry helped some, allowing me to answer on the fly, but the original email still landed in my computer's inbox, leaving me wondering "did I answer that?"

Then I added a desktop computer. One more place for email. I was getting and answering email for four email accounts on three devices. More was not better.

All my gadgets were set up under POP protocol. The option is IMAP. I'm not sure what the difference is except that with POP you lose email on your own computer, with IMAP you lose it on the server. Anyway, today I went the full IMAP route - Brandon, our friendly IT guy (maybe the only one....) fixed me up so that both computers and the Blackberry sync. Hit DELETE on the Blackberry and it dissappears from the computers.

It's gorgeous. I have become one with the machines. Singularity is achieved with every move I make.

Judge Says Man Doesn't Get Extra Leg to Stand On

This story is too weird. Here's one quote, and it's only the beginning.

"Even though a North Carolina man found an amputated human leg inside a smoker he bought at auction, he can't keep it, Judge Greg Mathis ruled on his television show in an episode that aired Thursday."

I can't imagine finding a human leg in a smoker. It's even harder to imagine that I'd say "Hey, cool! A leg! I'm going to keep it!" For what? Was he anticipating having knee replacement surgery and wanted to save money on spare parts?

It goes on...

John Wood, whose left leg was amputated after a 2004 plane crash, joked to the judge about losing his leg twice. He had kept the leg and the cooker inside a rented storage space. When the South Carolina man couldn't pay the bill, the items were auctioned.

He said he wanted his severed leg so that it could be cremated with him when he dies.

Oh. Suddenly I understand why it was in a smoker. He was getting ready to cremate it?

Welcome to Junior High

Must be my regular use of the word 'booger'.

Praise the Lord and Pass the Tin Foil

Yesterday was the annual Tour de Tin Foil. Yes, I understand it was some sort of pagan holiday as well, but not being pagan (and not being willing to give away a day), we went to Chipotle.

Every year, Chipotle offers a free burrito to anyone wearing tin foil. Fortunately, you are not limited to wearing tin foil - in other words, you can wear it over your clothes, which seems important to me. I shudder to consider wearing nothing but tin foil and getting one of those static electricity shocks you get from rubbing your feet on the carpet.

Kelsey fashioned some great masquerade glasses out of foil. I made my annual full metal mohawk. The kids just wrapped themselves up. Once inside the restaurant, we discovered it nearly full of IHOP staffers, interns, students, families, and sundry other prayer lurkers.

As we threw down our usual, we talked about our first Chipotle visit over five years ago. A new one had opened near our (then) home in northern Cincinnati. Kels and I wandered in during our date night, took a glance at the menu and decided "....Chinese". As we walked out, we were chased down by a 20 something girl with a manager's name tag.

She smiled and asked "Hey, where are you going?"

We looked at one another. "Uh, we're not sure...but we just decided to eat somewhere else."

"Will you eat here if I pay for it?"

Kels and I looked at one another for a moment. We're picky, but we're cheap too. "Ok."

That was undoubtably the best $10 that manager ever invested, because I think we've averaged about 35 burritos each of the five years since.

Think about that. Figure in our burritos plus Jackson's, plus Grayson's, plus Zion's.

{(175 burritos x 2) + (125 burritos) + (75 burittos x 2)]$5 = $3125.

That's over $3k for $10 of advertising, minus the dozen or so freebies we have collected over the years on Halloween or with the gift card we got when that creepy employee swiped our debit card number and made a bunch of strange toll calls on it.

I'm still trying to figure the equation to total the cost of the chips and guacamole.