Silver Lining
James had a horrible stomach ache yesterday. By bedtime he was crying it hurt so bad, at times doubled over on the floor. I had never seen him like this before, never endured the parental role of just holding him, stroking his hair, rubbing his back, trying to comfort him.In the past when he's had a stomach ache, he's complained for a few hours, then thrown up three times (always three times) and then been fine. But this was different. This was "do we need to go to the emergency room" different. He fell asleep a couple of times but only for 30-45 minutes. And Lisa and I did what little we could for him...gave him some 7-up...held him...and crossed our fingers that he would throw up and have done with it.But the most important thing is that we prayed. We prayed out loud with him. We prayed silently. We laid hands on him as he slept. And even though it was a long night, he got better this morning. During my shower, he came up and knocked on the shower door. "Daddy, I threw up!" he said, as happy as could be. And then walked back out to the couch.The silver lining came early this morning. Lisa was sitting with him in the bathroom. I was in the bedroom, eyes closed but listening. And my boy told his mom that he wanted to pray. He's growing up and he's growing to know God. We don't hear confirmation of that very often so when we do, it's cause for celebration.
Routine
To recap, my friend, John, had brain surgery on Wednesday. On Friday, my cell phone rang, the caller ID showing his number. I knew John's parents had his phone, so when I opened mine up, I expected them to give me an update. Instead, John's voice said, "Hey."I think my answer was something along the lines of, "WOW! You have got to be kidding me!"He sounded great. I kept saying stuff like, "Weren't they working on your brain two days ago??" Everything went very well and he is already out of the hospital. If everything went according to plan over the weekend, he should even be back in Fresno by now. I'm amazed by both the marvels of modern medicine and the power of God who I believe DOES love His children and DOES answer prayer. So, thank you for all of yours. I got to chat with John about all of those things. But also, of course, about baseball. He was happy to have the opportunity to watch the game Friday night with his parents and some friends who had traveled up to see him. And what a game! I would like to remind everyone that I predicted a 5-game series (while hoping you all forget which team I picked to win it). The play was ugly at times...anyone else guessing the Tigers pitching staff might work on fielding balls back to the mound this off season?...but the team that played best together won it. And who am I to argue with the selection of David Eckstein as MVP? We'll take you back anytime, X. Just let us know.I preached yesterday on "The servant's heart," and I truly can't tell you how it went. God worked, as He always does, but I never felt right. I have a routine I go through on mornings I preach. I've gotten quite used to it and maybe a little too reliant on it. It goes something like this: Arrive early. Go over PowerPoint with Jon/James. Go over sound stuff with Lex/Dee. Check with Sandra on order. Find a quiet room to review the message and pray over it. Pray with Arthur. Pray with Doug. Pray with whoever will stand still long enough. Pray with the group up front. And then just sit and worship with everyone until it's my turn.Yesterday just didn't work out like that. Doug did find me and round up a group to pray for me (thanks, Lex), but there was no quiet time with God and I. So when it was my turn, I felt like I had just been picked to answer a question in class, and I hadn't done the homework. Like I said, everything went fine because God is in charge. I just never felt right. I am SUCH a creature of habit. I know that's maddening to others, but I'm not sure I can help it.I'm glad God loves us Type A folks too.
Health Updates
John's surgery went well and he is recuperating in the ICU. Continued prayers would be wonderful. To give you a little more insight into John's character, let me tell you two reasons he was pleased with the timing of the surgery. One: he was looking forward to being "bald and scarred" for Halloween. Two: he was glad that he would be back on the ballfield in plenty of time for the season to start.I had my allergy scratch test yesterday. Those of you who have gone through that are probably now wincing in pain. Those of you who haven't are wondering what it is. Here's a brief synopsis.90 little scratches on your back to see which ones cause a reaction. In my case, most. Then, by way of confirmation, 16 injections in the upper right arm. ALL of which caused a reaction. And the best part, spending the rest of the day itching and stuffy as a result of being shot up with everything you're allergic to. Joy. Of course, this is all a part of getting better. They gave me a result sheet which showed that I truly am allergic to most trees, grasses, weeds, and mold. I'm also allergic to dogs and cats, although the results showed that I could have a pet cockroach should I so desire. I'll start getting regular shots in two weeks and, in January, I'll see an Ear, Nose, Throat guy to start the process of cleaning out my head.In other news, my prediction of Tigers in five is looking bad. And now it looks as though rain might wash away any semblance of a normal Series. So how's this for a new prediction: Tigers in 7...with the final game to be played in November.
Prayer Request
I have a little mini-series in mind on prayer that I want to start on this site soon. I was going to do it today and was struck by a little irony. While I was going to spend time writing about prayer, I have a friend who is in great need of prayer. So rather than spending time thinking about it, I plan to spend my day doing it.My friend John had a brain tumor removed years ago. Part of the process is that you go back for regular checkups about every six months. During the last checkup, they found that the tumor had returned. So today, probably as I write this, he is having his second brain surgery.John is a young, active guy. He's a great athlete. He teaches special ed kids and coaches the varsity baseball team at a nearby high school. He spent part of his summer doing mission work in Romania. He's a Dodger fan but I love him anyway. Today I'm worried for him and I seek prayer on his behalf. The last surgery took 8 hours and, as most of you know, you get to be AWAKE during brain surgery. Add to that the fact that your head is in a vice and you can't move at all (plus the idea of being able to hear everything they're doing) and it all adds up to one of the most uncomfortable things I can imagine. John's way tougher than me, but I know he could use some peace right now.Please pray for that. And for healing and a quick recovery.
Time to Read
I am a freak of nature.Insert punchline here.Because my sister was 2 years older than me (she still is, despite all my attempts at catching up), I used to sit with her and Mom while she was learning to read. For some reason, all that decoding made sense to me and I was reading along with them before I started Kindergarten. I will never forget the day that I was called into the principal's office that first year of school. I was terrified because the only thing I knew about the principal's office was that it was where you went when you got in trouble. But they had me come in because they had heard that I could read and wanted to see for themselves. I was a tiny child, almost invisible to the naked eye, and they got me a stool so I could see on top of the counter. They gave me a book to read and, of course, I read it for them. One of the cynics in attendance said that it must have been a book I had memorized so the wisenheimer got a copy of the newspaper. I read that too. Mind you, I wasn't comprehending all of this stuff, but I had a pretty good vocabulary for a 5-year-old tiny dude.All of that to say that I have enjoyed reading most of my life. As a boy, it was all about Dr. Seuss. Then the Hardy Boys and the Three Investigators. Then Heinlein's scifi for young boys, quickly followed by Heinlein's scifi for hormonal teenage boys. From there it was an easy jump into all kinds of science fiction and always, always, comic books. In high school it was Stephen King and Ray Bradbury and that still works pretty well today.There are certain reading experiences that I will never forget: The Sunday spent on the living room couch reading "The Last Battle" from cover to cover. The second time I attempted Asimov's "Foundation Trilogy" and realized it was amazing. The afternoon in summer school Government class that Greg Buch loaned me his copy of "Dead Zone" and I couldn't put it down. The first time I read "Lord of the Rings." The first time I read "Jurassic Park." The first time I read the Bible.I still get a certain thrill from opening up a book and beginning the first page. I try very hard to find a place where I will be completely undisturbed if I am attempting to finish a book. This rarely works. Were I to come to the last 10 pages in a book at 3 AM on a desert island, a ship would find me before I could finish and tell me there was a phone call on board for me. One of those odd facts of life.And now a new reading experience begins. Starting tomorrow, we will be discussing Yancey's new book on prayer over at the Theobloggers site. I know many of you are going to join and some of you plan to follow along silently. I hope you'll reconsider if you have something to share. The whole idea is to get a wide variety of perspectives and opinions as we study something that is as important as food and oxygen. I can't wait to hear what you all have to say, as well as Mr. Yancey. See you there.
Pain Free
Two very cool things happened yesterday.During 5th period I realized that I was smelling something. It wasn't anything great...hand lotion or some such...but I was smelling it. I haven't smelled anything for the better part of a year. Now, mind you, there are times as a high school teacher that this is an absolute blessing. But for the most part I miss smelling things. Things like...Baking breadFreshly cut grassJames (post-bath)PopcornThe inside of a new bookAnd so on. Lisa has an amazing sniffer. If someone lights a cigarette anywhere within a 3-mile radius, she starts complaining. You think I'm exaggerating but it's really uncanny. My sister's nose works like that too. I think they were both bitten by radioactive dogs or something.The second thing that happened yesterday was that my doctor gave me some pain medication and, for the first time in about four months, my head stopped hurting. You have no idea how nice that is unless you've lived with chronic pain. I'm more functional today than I have been in a long time. Probably easier to be around too.The doctors seem to act as though I have about the most diseased head they've ever seen. Who knows? Maybe I do. They want to get me to an ENT doctor as soon as possible and there is probably surgery in the future. But that's all fine if it means the pressure in my head will go away. I know I've been blessed by prayers and encouragement and good advice. I want to thank you all for keeping me in mind. It's very nice not to hurt.
Pew Communion
On Sunday, I asked people to do something that I was afraid may have been outside their comfort zone. During our Communion time, I asked them to make sure that nobody was taking communion alone. I asked them to share the bread and the cup with at least one other person, looking them in the eye while they ate, drank, and prayed together. I asked for a hands-on communion experience and I was blown away.Before I could even finish the thought, I saw at least five people get up and move next to a person who was sitting alone. By the time the bread was passed, people were huddled together in groups, touching and loving each other. Hands were held, arms were put around others, and we all shared the meal as a family.There are times, especially lately, that I get very frustrated with my church. (I know it isn't MY church, but you know what I mean when I say that.) We bicker too much. We focus on the wrong things. We don't appreciate others like we should. We look inward far more than we look outward. And on and on and on. But the heart of the people there, the spirit of love that pervades the place, never fails to give me hope and never fails to lift me up.
Biblos 4 TheoBloggers
Brady had a great idea. Let's all get a copy of Philip Yancey's new book, "Prayer: Does It Make Any Difference?" Let's read it together. And let's get on-line once a week and talk about what we've read.
I'm a big Yancey fan. I've read five or six of his books. I'm also a big Brady fan. I've heard five or six of his sermons. And I'm a big fan of telling people what I think. So the combination was perfect.
We are going to start the discussion on or about October 21st. We have set up a special site to handle it: http://www.biblos.theobloggers.org./ You can also get to the site through my links over on the right. I want to officially invite all of you who haven't already signed up to join us. It should be a great way to share with each other our thoughts on prayer. Perspective is a wonderful thing.
Yancey will ask powerful questions. Does prayer work? At least, does it work the way we think it should? What can we really expect from prayer? Does prayer change us or God? Or both?
Come along. 
Spinning Wheels
Lately I feel like I've been going all day, every day, and getting nothing done.I know it all has to do with being sick, being very busy at work, and all that stuff. But it's frustrating to look behind you and see so little progress made. Keep me in your prayers as I struggle to get caught up...and maybe even finding the energy to get a little bit ahead.Lisa and I are sharing a computer as I haven't found time yet to get her laptop up and running. I know you're all thinking that I'm spending all my time watching the playoffs but, honest, I've only watched two games. That alone should tell you something! By the way, it will be the Mets and the Tigers in the series. I've called that from the beginning and I'm sticking to it. I know Tigers/Cards would throw us all back into the incredible '68 season (Gibson vs. McLain, anyone?), but I think we'll have to settle for '68 vs. '69. I actually like both of those teams too so it would be a great series.Soon I'll post about the upcoming book discussion planned on a different blog. Get your copy of "Prayer" by Philip Yancey and join us!
Computer Woes
It happens to all of us. And usually in the same way.The day arrives. The moment comes. Right when you really need your computer the most, right when you have that big presentation, that huge event, a vital life-altering e-mail to send...your computer says, "No."It happened to Lisa on Friday. Friday night was CROPTOBERFEST! Women were coming from all around the world to work on their albums (okay, all around town, but seriously, didn't "world" sound better?). There were banners to make, lists to provide, tally sheets to print. But her computer said, "No. There will be no banners. There will be no lists. Write your own tally sheets, Princess." And so she did.But it's 2006 and computers are like oxygen. (That is to say that we need them, not that they are produced by plant life.) And so we went out and got her a brand spanking new laptop this weekend. But before we get it set up, we need to salvage all her data from the old hard drive. And clean up the computer desk and all points around it. And hook up the other new machines we bought for her and her receptionist-buddy at work. After, of course, moving all of their data as well.And then, my friends? Ah yes. Then it will be my turn.
Look, Ma! No Cavities!
Thanks go right up front to Carolyn, who y'all know as "timeless," for getting me in to see the doc. She knew just who I should see and she set everything up. And hopefully, within a few days, I'll be breathing again. Here is a short list of some of the things you can't do when no air is getting through your nose:Chew with your mouth closed.Say words with "m's" and "n's."Focus for more than 10 minutes.Play with your kid.Sleep for extended periods of time.Be cool.This last item, in particular, has been bothersome to myself and those around me. I'm hard to recognize when I ain't got my cool on.So they did another CT scan, this time focusing on my sinuses. And they found that they're pretty much not there. I guess from the way they explained it that most of you have these holes inside your head? Yeah, I don't have those. So they stuck a scope up my nose (they called it a "rhinoscopy" which has always made me wonder about the need to use "rhino" as a prefix for "nose." I mean, I don't really mind, but it's probably hard to take for those people with enormous schnozollas). We all spent some really fun time looking at the inside of my head. The docs looked like they had never seen such a thing. I mostly sat there mumbling, "Done yet?"Eventually, I got a bunch of pills, another appointment, and the near certainty of surgery in my future. But hey, if it gives me back my cool, who's to argue?At one point, Mike (Carolyn's friend, my new hero, and an all-around nice guy) said, "I'd say that you're going to feel normal again, but I don't think you have any idea what 'normal' feels like." Trust me, he meant it in a nice way.So hopefully this all heralds a return to normality. Unless I was running for president, and then it would herald a "return to normalcy." That one was for you history buffs.Y'all stay cool.
James
My son is named James. He was named after my dad. Mostly.
One of my best friends is also named James. We met when I was in the 8th grade and we have been friends ever since. He moved to San Luis Obispo to attend college at Cal Poly. He moved to Albuquerque some time later and, to one degree or another, has been there ever since. For a time, he visited frequently and would stay with me whenever possible. So, even though we have only lived in the same city for 6 of the nearly 30 years we have known each other, we have stayed close. And since those 6 years were Junior High/High School years and we were thick as thieves throughout them, there is something to be said for intensity of experience.
So when the time came to dream up a name for my son, with Lisa's sweet and generous acquiescence, there was only one name I wanted. Because, even though named for my father, there is a certain percentage of that name that belongs to my friend.
He's the guy who cut class to go to movies with me most Fridays of my senior year. (A heartfelt thank you goes out here to Mr. Mooradian, our counselor who never checked the times on those passes to class. A secondary thanks goes to God, who gave James and I both last names that fell into the T-Z category so that we could have the same counselor. "What are you going to talk to him about today?" "I don't know...college I guess." "Yeah, we did that last week. I'm doing careers today." "Awesome. See you in the parking lot.")
He's the guy who taught me that you could buy soundtrack music. Thus he introduced me to John Williams. As an extension, he would later introduce me to Classical and New Age music.
He's the guy who hid in the backseat of my car when I took Janine Miskulin out. He popped his head up at the intersection of Shaw and Maroa and scared the living poo out of me. He was subsequently dropped off in the middle of a fig orchard miles from a phone. I didn't date for five years after that.
He's the guy who stayed with me for a couple of weeks following my divorce. He made me eat and play video games and occasionally go outside.
He's the guy who called me the day we found out that George Takei (TV's "Mr. Sulu") came out of the closet and instructed me to "set phasers to fabulous."
He's the guy who used to fight with me about which Guzman twin we would date when we both knew that they were completely out of our league.
He's the guy who was somehow responsible for me ending up on the roof of City Hall in downtown San Luis one night. In a similar incident he once coerced me onto the carousel at Magic Mountain, promising me that he had a plan, only to jump off his horsey at the last minute and stand there, smiling and waving, every time I passed him.
He's the guy who made me shoot Pepsi out of my nose once just by looking at me. That hurts, by the way.
He's the guy who used to call me and follow "Hey" with absolute silence. Once I refused to say anything either and we just stayed on the line together for about 5 minutes in absolute silence. I broke first.
He's the guy who would take my yearbook for an entire day and give it back with about 25 comments on various pages that still make me laugh when I read them.
He's the guy who introduced me to Pogo Possum, The Marx Brothers, and Hope & Crosby movies. The guy I saw "Raiders" with during the sneak preview. The guy who will, at random times, send me something new to watch or read by mail (such as "Firefly") and it will instantly become a favorite.
He is the smartest person I know. He has absolutely no pretense about him and no tolerance for it in others. He likes what he likes and doesn't really care what anybody else thinks about that.
He currently works for both your Uncle and mine both learning and training others in the techniques and technology involved in finding WMD's. He would tell me more about what he does but he doesn't want to have to kill me. Which he could, I'm convinced, with his left thumb.
Today is James' birthday. We'll be 41 together for about a month and then I'll move on. Happy birthday, bud. I love you.
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