Adolescence in 3-D

Part of my job as a youth minister is to simply do fun stuff with my youth group, Soul Asylum Youth. The parents pay me and expect me to hang out and have as much fun with their teens as possible. I love hanging out with them. I've been doing this for a year and a half and now have relationships with most of them. So, it's like having 40 little sisters and brothers...at once. So, yesterday we went to the IMAX to see the "Polar Express" in 3-D. I have seen various 3-D movies before on a conventional movie screen but this was altogether a whole different experience. Do yourself a favor and spend the $11 to go and see it. It was amazing. Anyway, I've been blessed with the God-given ability to put a block up to the high volume of screaming and yelling that takes place in a 15 passenger van full of teens. I've also learned that the other teens will crack way before I do and they actually start policing themselves before I even think of wanting to yell a blanket "SHUT UP!!!!". Some look at me as if I'm the freak for not wanting to turn around in the driver's seat and start stabbing the entire front row of kids with a toothpick. It's really funny. I also noticed yesterday that I'm learning the masterful art of carrying 4-6 conversations at once. One teen will be talking to me about their little brother breaking their arm, then another will come in at that same moment and show me how they can fold a dollar bill to make the president's head look like a mushroom, then at that same time another will come and ask me what time we'll be getting back to the church because their mom is on the phone wanting to know and another keeps making fart noises in my right ear...and on and on. All this while I'm trying to pay for my pizza at the counter. I'm not bragging, but just thankful to God for this ability. At the end of the evening, I had a parent ask me if I was ready to maim any of the kids yet and I said "No, but I think they are ready to kill each other though!" Anyway, being a youth minister rules. Can't imagine doing anything else. Got toothpicks?

"Most Wanted"

Well, it's Christmas night and the dust has settled and all of the In-Lawing, overeating, and present giving has come to a close. I'm here on the couch watching Sarah act like a schoolgirl over her new pimpin' platinum pots and pans my sister and bro-in-law gave to us, um...her. I can't cook my way out of a paper sack but I'll sure enjoy what she's able to do with them. Anyway, the best gift I really got today was to see my son behave in a way that almost brings tears to my eyes. My freakin' heart is literally swollen with pride. No kidding. Well, let me tell you the deal: Dave, my son, has been actively campaigning for the new Holy Grail of PS2 video games: Need for Speed: "Most Wanted". Goodness knows this game has been worked by little Dave into countless coversations more times than any Amway soap salesman could ever dream of doing. He's a pro. If he's passionate about something, you'll catch the passion within 5 minutes or less. So, we'll speed up to Christmas Day. We had Christmas with Sarah's side of the family first. We also gave little Dave all of the presents Sarah and I got for him. No Need for Speed "Most Wanted". Did he pout when he realized mom and dad didn't get it for him after all of the campaigning he did? Nope. Did he even mention the game at all to us today wondering why we couldn't get it for him? Nope. He just simply hugged us and thanked us for the other stuff we got him. Fast forward to my mom's house. We got there and started to open the presents and it's a typical Martin free for all. No picture taking or turns waited for...just an old-fashioned paper storm and lots of "Thank Yous" yelled across the room whether it went to the right ears or not. So, little Dave opened a box that contained a wind suit. Next. Another box opened that had a cool car. Next. Another bag opened with a gift card for Wal-Mart. Enter Dylan, his cousin, who is the same age as little Dave. Dylan opened his next little wrapped package. If it wasn't Need for Speed "Most Wanted"! I swear. Little Dave looked at the game, and then to Dylan, then to me, then around the room, back to the game, and back to Dylan again, and after a moment, managed to muster up the most genuine heart-felt congratulations he could. "Good for you, Dylan! Maybe sometime I can come over to your house to play it." Even though you could tell his heart sank into his little shoes, he kept a stiff upper lip and shared in the joy for Dylan's new gift. Then my sister realized what was going on and made a mad dash to the tree to find another gift for little Dave to ease the internal struggle. "David" was written on the tag outside of the gift but it was really intended for me, not little Dave. We've seen the cliche' in movies so many times: The Spirit of Christmas reveals its twisted sense of humor when just at the point it seems that the most anticipated of gifts appear to have been forgotten and the longing for "that gift" has been stretched to the limit, the magic of Christmas gives in and lets its predictable charm have its way. So far though Mr. Dylan, has gotten that Holy Grail of video games this season and little Dave is inadvertantly opening my gift containing the classic DVD of Frank Capra's "It's a Wonderful Life" given by, what would seem to little Dave, some out-of-touch relative. He managed to say "Thanks" for it anyway until he realized it was intended for me. He was more than happy to pass it over. Needless to say, it wasn't a gift topping little Dave's wish list this year. Certainly was on mine though. Like out of the "Christmas Story",with Ralphie and the Red Rider B.B. Gun, there was one gift left for Dave under the tree. When his little hands opened it to everyone's relief and his surprise, Dave hit the game jackpot: Need for Speed "Most Wanted". "Most Wanted" is certainly a fitting name. He was so surprised and overcome with joy that he literally jolted and the game flew out of his hands landing on the other side of the couch. I'm not kidding about any of this. Within 2 minutes, that game was spinning in the PS2 getting worked over by his sweaty little hands. Good guys may finish last sometimes, or in this case, open the best gifts last, but I couldn't have been more proud of my "good guy" for the gifts of gratitude and grace he gave to me and others today. "He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep, to gain what he cannot lose." -Jim Elliott

39 Pounds of Love

I know my blog title sounds like a plug for an adult film or just a random blog title I picked to be weird. Actually, neither are the case. You see, my first night on the couch (read my previous post about all that) with my trusty laptop led me somehow (I honestly don't remember) to a movie review about the film " 39 Pounds of Love". So after I waited for the site to load, there was all this animation stuff and as I navigated through the site further, I found it's a documentary made about this guy Ami Ankilewitz who at age 6 was only given a short amount of time to live after being diagnosed with a rare muscle disorder, similar to M.S., and how Ami at 34 years old, weighing 39 pounds and with only the use of his pinky finger grabs life by the neck and pushes through the impossibility of his condition. I haven't seen the film yet but I must see it. I'm intrigued. So, I found his personal website and read his take on his condition and his view of life. It's a little rough in some spots but he says overall it's Love and his desire to share it with "that one person" is what keeps him going. He's hilarious too. On his website he has his personal email addy on there. I'd love to email him but have no clue what I would say. Maybe, "Dude, you're just freaking cool." This guy is a rock star. I don't mean that in a "awww...poor pitiful guy" kind of way because you learn quickly he's not a big fan of pity or gentle pats on the head. As I learn more of Ami, it just further proves that the human spirit is able to go places where our body and science says it "can't" go. I read a quote from a friend of Ami's that suggested that we are the ones with the disability because Ami pushes himself to the limit in the same way Lance Armstrong or another great athlete would as opposed to us who don't even use a tenth of our physical ability. It's true. I'll spend an extra 5 minutes driving in a Wal-Mart parking lot to spare myself 15 extra feet worth of walking distance. Ami has one freakin' pinky to use and he could kick my rear end any day of the week in terms of what he accomplishes with it. Remember that old phrase we used in school "I could beat you up with my pinky." Ami could. Ami does. Now, I have to find out how to get a hold of this movie. Ami Rules. *******UPDATE******** O.K. I decided to email Ami and this guy is a real class act...this is how it went down: Dear Ami- I somehow stumbled into finding out about the documentary "39 pounds of love" and was just blown away by your life story. I'm kinda at a loss as to what to say. So instead of me trying to ramble on, i invite you check out my blog and see what I told my friends about what i think of you. I'd consider it an honor for you to read it: http://www.tackyrelevance.blogspot.com/ You rule, David -------------------------------------------------------------- (His reply) Hey Mr. D Thank you for your kind words. I'm always happy to hear that people want to see the movie. It's cool that you checked out my personal site, not too many do. Thanks again, Take care, Ami

A coughing Night Owl...

O.K. This is the 2nd night on the couch. I don't mind actually...too much. I volunteered. Sarah has some funk and was running a temperature last night but it broke today, thank God. According to Sarah, I have a little habit of snoring and I also dabble in some sleep apnea from time to time. I can't imagine why she wouldn't be able to get a good nights rest sleeping 9 inches away from someone gasping and rattling like a chainsaw for 8 hours next to her ear. Anyway, the "Coughing Night Owl". Cedar sucks. Let me get that out of the way. I was so excited because it looked like the cedar wasn't going to poof itself all over the Texas Hillcountry because we "ain't got no rain for a spell" around here. We'll, I guess their dumb roots went deeper and found some water because I've been coughing my freaking head off here on the couch for the last hour and I'm wide-a-freakin'-wake. It's like 11:45pm right now. Oh, and I have no TV here in the living room so I'm reduced to writing really about...nothing. What does that say for you reading this garbage? So, I'm hacking and I'm so awake I could do math. I actually thought a couple of minutes ago about going to Walgreens to just "browse". What else can a person do after midnite whilst keeping their morals out of unsavory compromise? Hoot.

10 years can hold a lot of stuff...

Sarah and I celebrated our 10 year wedding anniversary this past Friday. Don't get me wrong when I say it feels like 10 years. We've just done a lot. We started out our night by eating at Bohanan's Restaurant Friday night and I'd have to say it was the fanciest place I'd ever eaten and I continued to overstate that point during the 2 plus hours we were there. I also walked through the memory of our wedding day, hour by hour, with Sarah saying stuff like: "Well, about this time we were getting into the limo." or "About this time we got back to the hotel to have dinner." and "About this time...", well, you get the idea. Anyway, $170 later, we walked a couple of blocks back to the Menger hotel where we stayed. My sis had ordered chocolate dipped strawberries and a bottle of hooch for us as her gift to us. That was very sweet. Actually, I really didn't want to share them with Sarah but I knew I had to in order for the evening's festivities to keep running in my favor. Anyway, it was very special as we sat there and really looked back at what the past 10 years had contained and how amazingly faithful our Father has been to us. Our lives and marriage haven't always been dipped strawberries and champagne but for us to eat them together and smile after 10 years was the best gift of the night.

Cheaters and bumps in the road...

The more our expectations are distanced from our experience, that is where disappointment thrives and we become disillusioned when we have an allusion that fails to contrast in reality. It's a quote from a teacher, Chip Ingram, that I heard this morning on the radio. I think relationships wouldn't be nearly as painful and full of funk if we understood and applied this concept of expectations vs. experience and disillusionment vs. reality. If you don't believe it, just watch your fill of the show, Cheaters. No kidding. On both sides of the relationship you see this principle played out. You have the cheater who for whatever self-centered reasons decided to cheat and the victim who generally goes back with the cheater. Of course, in most cases, the victim immediately jumps into the allusion that just because someone says they are sorry, that the reality is they will "never" do that again. Uh-huh. They are kissing reality goodbye and setting themselves up for disillusionment. We can see that, but when we're in the midst of having to admit our expectations were unrealistic, sometimes it's easier to just hang onto our dreamworld. It's less painful there...so we think. We all want to drive on roads that are smooth as glass and we expect no bumps. When we hit "that bump", we're shocked and feel victimized because we got hot coffee splashed all over our pants. Never mind we were on the cell phone, changing the radio station while reaching around into the back seat to grab a pencil when we hit that bump. I don't know. I guess this principle applies literally to any and everything we decide to put our investment in. Even God. We think this salvation experience is going to rid us of any problems or challenges in our lives and if that's our expectation and our experience reveals something different, what happens? We feel like we're not saved, God doesn't like us anymore, the devil is getting the best of us or some other b.s. that really keeps us from looking at the real problem: Unmet expectations. That's why we have to have an objective source of Truth and Reality to base our expectations on. "Although He was a Son, He learned obedience from what He suffered." Heb.5:8 I've never really considered this until today. It really gives me a new perspective on some of my relationships and what I consider failures in my life. Maybe it's time I realign my ideas of success with what God considers success. I think my version vs. His is where most of my problems come in. When I weigh my expectations against His, that is where the unmet ones and its pal, disillusionment, come in and start splashing hot coffee all over my freaking pants!

We decorated the Tree.

Last night Sarah, myself and little Dave decorated our house and Christmas tree. Why is it when sweet memories are made, the process comes and goes so quickly? I mean...boom...45 minutes, the tree is up with lights and decorations, cookies have been made and consumed to the yucky-stomach limit, and we're out in the street in front of our house admiring how the tree looks inside, imagining what a car may see if they were driving by and looking into our house. We read Luke 2 and Punkster was in bed and out like a light. 45 minutes. Maybe an hour...tops. I'm really aware, more now than ever, how important it is to make great memories for your kid growning up. I have to say, I feel like I've failed in this area. Back to my point: The sweet memories come and go within the timespan it takes to watch a rerun of the Golden Girls and the mundane parts of our lives seem to just drag on and on. It's mostly mundane because we allow it to be, I think. I think that's why those who have near death experiences come on the other side and realize that there is a sweet memory to be made at every moment. All of a sudden you really feel like you're living again, kinda like what we felt like when we were 5 years old and everything was new and exciting. What makes things special, I guess, is the rareness of the moment shared alone or with another. If we had to decorate the tree everyday, it would lose its special qualities, huh?

The blog sub-culture

O.K. I've been hunting around and peering into other blogs. Some are kinda cool but the ones that go on and on and on about how much Bush sucks are so dime-a-dozenesque. It's sad in a way to see those who just puke out hate day after day. It's one thing to disagree and have differing opinions (that's great) but it's another to be just as closed minded as the ones they are accusing. By the way, Seinfeld is just as relevant today as it was 10 years ago. At this point, I know no one for sure is reading this. It's kinda weird. Art Vandelay

I'm not sure of this...

Sarah has been going on about having a blog for several years now. Actually, she's probably the one who first told you about blogs and why you need to have one or at least why you need to read them. For me, there seems to be a bit of poseur in all blogs. It's like you are trying to convince the 4 people who read it how smart, funny, and exciting your life is. In all reality, our lives seem to look cooler when they are in written form. But that isn't life really...writing about it, that is. Living it is what I'm wanting to do and find that "thing" I've been searching for since I can remember. That "thing" most days I believe is God, but just as soon as I find Him by being reminded of a certain truth or talking with a friend about Him, I forget and start all over. If it were possible to lose your salvation and get it back, I would by far be the guy who's been saved the most times because my desire for the "real thing" gets in the way of the "real thing". Anyway, who knows how faithful I'll be to this blog but I'll try not to be a poseur.