I'M BAAAAACK!!! Hello, my friends. Life has been in hyper-drive since I last posted... so much has happened. But I'm glad to be back and will try to share what went down this past (almost) 2 months. As some of you may know, there have been several deaths within my circle of friends/family within the last 2 weeks. I will expound upon this at another time, as it's late and the wounds are still too fresh on my spirit. Have a merry Chirstmas tomorrow, travel safely, and only eat until you're moderately full...!! Love, Richcrockett

THE PIRATES OF LAS VEGAS!

WHAT DOES ELVIS AND JACK SPARROW HAVE IN COMMON??

I know... a new summer blockbuster movie, kinda like those road movies that Bob Hope and Bing Crosby used to do?

NO!

Does their movie memorabilia hang near each others at the Hard Rock Cafe?

NO!

Johnny Depp does a KILLER Elvis impersonation?

NO!... (well maybe, not quite sure 'bout that one)

SO, do ya' give up?... What they have in common is that I dressed up as Jack Sparrow and Mark H. dressed up as Elvis and we picked up our daughters Alex and Jessi at their middle school campus on Halloween day!! They're still not speaking to us! Mark signed a few autographs though and we were both a big hit!

TRICK OR TREAT!!

So, last night we did it... FINALLY!! We stayed home on Halloween night and threw a big party. For years Jacqui and I have talked about doing it but we were always tied to "harvest fesitval" through our church. Well, last night was just called a good ol'"Halloween" party. We put on costumes (adults too), opened the garage, put out chairs, tables, games and a big propane heater and waited as the kids came. At times there were whole families in groups of 3 or 4 houses caravaning by foot together. As I BBQ'd burgers and dogs, the kids earned toy prizes by participating in games of skill. We surprised parents with cups of hot coco and warm cider. Many families from the Cheyenne participated: Baldwins, Thornbroughs, Dawsons, and the Heltons. We also got to see the Maiers and the Clontz' as they joined the party.
I was struck by comments from parents as they looked around at the festivities and thanked me for giving their children this special treat, something more than just a piece of candy, but a dose of neighborly LOVE. Later that evening, as the trick or treaters subsided we jammed LIVE from my garage (drums, bass and guitar) as Jacqui sang and led us. I heard Mark H and Susie also singing and Susie followed my drumming with some blazing tamborine. At times one of my neighbors Val, who enjoyed this time with us, sang along too. Even later in the evening, we were visited by BJ, Tresa and their three children. I want to thank all those who came and especially those who helped out in the set up, tear down and of course, THE PLAYING AND HAVING FUN.

Great insight from Blackaby

"Hidden from the Wise" from "Experiencing God Day-by-Day Devotional" by Henry T. Blackaby

In that hour Jesus rejoiced in the Spirit and said, "I thank You, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that You have hidden these things from the wise and prudent and revealed them to babes. Even so, Father, for so it seemed good in Your sight. (Luke 10:21)

One hindrance to hearing a word from God may be our own wisdom. Wisdom, like success, can delude us to think we should take the role of teacher rather than student. Our knowledge lulls us into thinking we have sufficient wisdom to meet any challenge. Believing we are wise tempts us to evaluate the shortcomings of others_yet be unaware of how much growth is still required_in ourselves.

The Pharisees were the religious experts of their day. They possessed much information about God, but they had no personal relationship with Him. Their knowledge clouded their view of their condition before God. Jesus thanked His Father that it was not to these “experts” that the Father had revealed spiritual truth, but rather to those who were humble and who recognized their need for God’s revelation.

When religious leaders experience spiritual failure, their downfall is often met with surprise. It shouldn’t be. Religious people with the most knowledge are sometimes the ones least responsive to God’s Word. Knowledge can easily lead to pride, and pride impedes us from seeking God.

How do you know if you are a “Pharisee”? When you do not have a teachable spirit. When you become defensive if a fellow Christian shares a concern about your spiritual condition. When you do not seek to hear from God, believing you already know what He thinks. When you feel that you are capable of helping others in their spiritual lives, but no one can teach you anything. Don’t allow the limited knowledge you now have to blind you to the great truths God still wants to reveal to you.

((I read this on Sunday, 10/22 and knew immediately that I had to post it. There is an eery truth to his words that are finding application in my life and with my current experiences. Does anyone else see it for their situation? Please comment!))

Q:Where's your other hand? A: Between two pillows.

So, my friends... you know I don't like travelling. But being married to women who does, I've developed a strategy which gets me prepared for these frequent events: DENIAL. Plain and simple, yet effective. I don't think about the trip or talk about it and pack at the last possible minute...

Oh, the picture... Steve Martin and John Candy from "Planes, Trains and Automobiles". A very funny movie, yet completely appropriate for this post. Last weekend my family took a train trip to Oregon to surprise my father-in-law for his 64th birthday. However it was WE who were surprised when our one-way train adventure took roughly 18 hrs to complete with another one-hour drive to the Dalles from Portland. Suffice to say, Jacqui's plan for us to have a family "adventure" was exactly that, despite my constant complaining and teasing (what? you complain? Yeah, you gotta' know! My poor wife takes alot HEAT from me in the teasing/ribbing department as I dish out more than I can take. So if she's reading," Thank you for being on this great journey with me. If it was not for you, I would lead a boring life! I'm glad we had that time on the train together. I love you with all my heart!)

Because the initial train ride was late arriving by 4 hours, we had to rent a car to drive to the Dalles (sounds like "PALS") instead of Jacqui's uncle picking us up. Then, when we found out that train delays of up to 10-12 hours was normal and that 4 hours was GOOD, we arranged to fly home instead of taking the train (even a 1 hour delay would have "trashed" Monday's schedule). TRAINS, PLANES AND... well you know. My first 2 hrs went something like this.

On Friday night we arrive an hour before our departure at Midnight. As I park the car and unload luggage, I begin to notice people moving about inside the station. Those few people loitering outside catch my attention; the parking lot security guard (good, watch my car, dude!), a disheveled, homeless looking man searching for cig-butts in the outdoor ashtray, a couple on a bench talking to a station maintence man. As we enter, I see a few others: several sets of elderly couples, 70-80 years old, sitting around chatting amongst they're stacked luggage, the gray haired Senator McCain look-a-like in the red ball cap, the shaved-headed, pale white-dude with semi-full tattoo sleeves (cool). We stand in line for tickets; Jacqui's at the window dealing with the transaction as Alex observes. More people, some strange by most standards, arrive. I'm on full "mr. safety" alert when one sneaks past my radar. About twenty feet away, a man begins to do what looks like "Tai Chi". He's a 50'ish, African-American dude in rumpled clothes, with wild, unkempt hair. I turn and see Sammie fully staring, mesmerized, possibly in shock. "SAMMIE!" I whisper-yell. "TURN AROUND! TURN AROUND!" She does. He exists the station and we are safe. I tune into the women behind the ticket counter as she gives Jacqui instructions on boarding. It seems complicated, but maybe it's just me adjusting to this whole different experience. Somethings missing. I realize it's the hip, cool travelers that you see in the airport mixed in with "regular" folks. No these were just the "regulars" or should I say... the irregulars... those travelling without a strict time requirement. We sit down to wait. I look around and ask Jacqui, "Do they know that air travel exists??" She smiles at me (so very patient) and cuddles Sammie, who is now afraid of all the "different" people beginning to arrive. I leave to use the restroom. "Is it safe to leave them?..." I take one last look... when I return, they're still there (thank you Lord). I sit next to Alex, saying nothing as the station fills. The red-ball cap man speaks to a woman in a motorized wheel chair. He begins to yell and I realize he is metally-challenged. I look around and see another, then another challenged guy by the water fountain... and I wonder... "I feel like I'm in a Milos Foreman movie." I confess. Jacqui looks at me puzzled. "One Flew over the Cuckoos Nest..." I say. She scowls at me as more people arrive. Alex and I begin to play games on our cell phones. We trade phones but that only lasts a minute because her phone does not have "bubble-breaker", and I'm hooked on that game. More people... is the circus in town? My mind races... I think I fit in well here. Finally, a station worker calls for us to get our boarding passes. I get in line and notice cardboard conductor hats for kids sitting on a table next to me. I pick one up and offer it to Alex from across the station. She frowns and just shakes her head as if to say, "Yeah, right like I'm gonna wear THAT!"
I return to my seat for more "bubble-breaker". Ten minutes later we go outside, cross the tracks and stand on the center platform to wait for train. My mind is racing, "very strange, this experience..." As we wait in the cold night air with about fifty other travelers, a friendly brown-haired woman with glasses approaches. She is carrying one bag, a gigantic pink-cased pillow and a box of Crispy-creme doughnuts. She greets us loudly and offers my daughters a doughnut. They decline and she says that the doughnuts are for her 14 yr old son who lives in Portland, " but he wouldn't mind if I gave a few to some cute girls! I gave two to a homeless guy earlier." I wonder if it was the Tai-Chi guy or the cigaret-butt finder. "Where you from?" She asks, we answer. "What do you do?" She keeps it coming, we answer. "Where ya' going?" Oregon, the Dalles, birthday party for dad. She asks my girls again if they want a doughnut and repeats the whole thing about her son. They decline. My mind races. Then a freight train passes the platform, stirring an incredibly icey wind. I'm COLD! Poor Sammie's in nylon shorts, a thin sweatshirt and fip-flops. A nice lady loans her a blanket, which she wraps herself in. The train passes. A few more minutes pass. It is soon 1 am as our train arrives. Sammie returns the blanket as we board. The doughnut lady is boarding behind us. She asks Jacqui where were from... Jacqui answers. She asks where we're going... Jacqui answers... my mind races. As we enter, there are people who boarded somewhere south, already asleep. We quietly find our seats and begin our adventure...

ILLUSIONS

"I know your out there. I can tell you now; I know that you're afraid. You're afraid of us. You're afraid of change.I don't know the future. I didn't come here to tell you how this is going to end, I came here to tell you how it's going to begin. I'm going to hang up this phone and then Im going to show these people what you don't want them to see. I'm going to show them a world.....without you. A world without rules and controls, without borders or bounderies. A world where anything is possible. Where we go from there... is a choice I leave to you."

This is the final dialogue in the first Matrix movie. The strength of this monologue lies in the lines, ["... I'm going to show these people what you don't want them to see. I'm going to show them a world..... without you.] Talk 'bout throwin' DOWN the GAUNTLET! This tone sets the stage for the fight between THE TRUTH and THE ILLUSION:

il~lu~sion: n. 1. something that deceives by producing a false impression. 2. a perception that represents what is perceived in an unreal way.
-Syn. An illusion is a false mental image or conception that may be a misinterpretation of a real appearance or may be something imagined.

I am struck at how hip they look and move; always in danger, speaking in low whisperey tones, then bustin' out some bullets or KUNG-FU on the bad guys. Could I ever be that dangerously cool or have a mysterious way about me which draws in others ? For examle, take Morpheous as he presents Neo with the ultimate choice to know THE TRUTH:

["You take the blue pill, the story ends and you wake up believing whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill, you stay in wonderland and I show you just how deep the rabbit hole goes."]

truth n. 1. a verified or indisputable fact 2. reality apart from and transcending perceived experience.




Do I the want the TRUTH or the ILLUSION? Do I want to stay safe in my bed OR be out there, scared but on the edge, living and loving people, being a part of a battle greater than my OWN LIFE?

Do I want to simply exist in the ILLUSION OF my BIG life with my BIG STUFF, worshipping my BIG god(?) or do I want to live in the TRUTH and BLAST A HUGE GAPING HOLE IN THE STATUS QUO OF MY SAFE, CLEAN, COOKIE CUTTER CHRISTIAN LIFE BY HONESTLY WORSHIPPING THE ONE, TRUE GOD!!

Neo, Trinity, Morpheus... characters in a movie, yes, but also examples of modern day prophets/evangelists. It's not there guns or martail arts skills that make them DANGEROUS, but rather the fact that they put it all out ON THE LINE, sacrificing themselves for a belief, a dream... of a Savior, who will end the suffering one day, end the charade of our current life; one who will usher each of us to a real WALK on earth with Him and eventually into Zion and into... the TRUTH!

diving head-first...

This is the great Julian Beever; and his artwork makes me smile. It's hard to believe that this is really a 2-dimensional piece made on the side walk (the stairs are real) with pastels. Yes, he is really standing on an ordinary sidewalk outside of some building! Most of his 3-D pieces can only be viewed from one angle to get the proper perspective.



Notice the guy on the left stepping around this next piece?



Okay, it gets tricky now. That's REALLY Julian on top of the bottle. Think about it... look real close...

Prepare your mind...

Today in "Experiencing God Day-by-Day Devotional" by Henry Blackaby, the following JUMPED off the page, starting in paragraph three:

"Sadly, many Christians today do not excercise their minds to be of service to God. They allow others to do their spiritual thinking for them. If they can find their theology from a book, they will not bother to study God's Word themselves. If a speaker makes an authoritative statement, they readily accept it without verifying whether it is biblical."

I'm convicted! In II Timothy 2:15 it states: "Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a workman who does not need to be ashamed and who CORRECTLY HANDLES the word of truth."

In Ephesians, it calls us to " take every thought CAPTIVE to the obediance of Christ."

Well, 'nough said. Get back on the path if you've found yourself in the weeds and keep your eyes on the Son. Peace Out!

LIFE IN THE FAST LANE...

really makes you lose your mind... that song by the Eagles; can you hear the guitar riff? So look, I know it's been a while since posting (sorry) but I had to catch up after being on "island time". Hawaii was SOOOOO laid back! I just loved it. We had such a great time hanging out with the Baldwins and the McDaniels. This is the most time Jacqui and I spent with Brian and Candace in the 13+ years that we've known each other and the most time spent with Keith and Tracy since our last Hawaii revival at Olivet Baptist Church in '03. I could not have ever envisioned a better week than the one I experienced!

So here's the quick low down of our time spent: lots and lots of SUN and SURF. We rented a house across the street(!) from Kailua beach (rated in top 3 most beautiful beaches in the world), boogie boarded at Sherwood Beach (the McD's favorite beach for catchin' sweet waves), saw SEA TURTLES up close and watched Candace ALMOST GIVE ONE A KISS!, went to N.shore to have SHAVE ICE at Matsimotos (AWESOME!!!), stopped at the Dole Factory for soft-serve pineapple ice-cream (yes!); had many home cooked meals at our beach house, where I bbq'd (of course); helped Brians mom and dad throw a surprise party for Parker's 11th birthday; had a great brunch at Arlie and Onita's; checked out properties for the future home of CRASH; LAUGHED hard, TALKED and CRIED; got to just BE with each other as friends; got to watch our ABSOLUTELY CRAZY children put on a zany impromptu play in the backyard; watched the sunset as Candace took pictures of our families; saw huge strange Hawaiian snails; dug fortresses in the sand as the surf tried (and succeeded) in tearing it down; found a coconut and tried to crack it open only to find it was rotten and STUNK; played with sand crabs; got SUNBURNED, but eventually TANNED; went to the swap meet; witnessed the sheer, physical beauty of a land and a sea only God could have created; got to watch Brian deliver a message to a few believers at Wakiki Baptitst Church; got to hear that song (how is it spelled?) "coom-by-AH" played on the accordian! by a truly humble servant/drummer named Dave; ate peanut butter cookies made by a women named Irna; HAD THE BEST PANCAKES ON THE PLANET WITH MACADAMIA NUT SAUCE AT BOOTS AND KIMOS; had McDonalds breakfast with SPAM and rice!; then our final dinner at Pinky's (home of the greatist ballon animal making brothers!) Anything else besides sleeping and bathing? No, I think that may be it... God is good!

...It seemed you were running so well, so swiftly, what hindered you? Good question... I have this old dog named Lucky whose eleven and a half. His hips are "tired", possible artheritis, and if you ever watch him lay down it can take a while. I always insert dialogue like the following:

(Circle, circle , circle) oh, this spot's not right. Over here maybe. (Circle, circle, circle)(2X or 3X) ... No, something's not right. Oh here! Okay, this is good. (Circle, circle, circle)... okay, easy... and down...aaahhh!!

He has a dog pillow, his own dog-chair (old sofa chair, covered in dog hair), 18 various "favorite spots" and still...

So now I'm an old dog? My hips may not be shot yet, but my need for comfort matches his. It seems in my walk down this path that after I encounter a stretching, painful growth time, it is always followed by "the circle, circle, circle" period. How many spots will I try before I eventually flop down and lick my wounds??
How long will I stay down?

The great part about Lucky is that he follows his master from room to room. So after he has gone through this entire process, if I get up to leave the room, he's right there beside me, pain and all; a true friend, a real follower.

INK

some old and some new

... And then I found myself in the chair at "Susuin Ink" on Tuesday of this week. Mark and Dale were by my side, distracting me with small talk. The center figures in the tattoo, arms raised in worship on either side of the cross was installed in my skin in early '04. (Jacqui has the same design on her back and sat in the same chair immediately after me on this Tuesday. She winced, cried perhaps(?) but was an AWESOME subject without flinching or moving. GO GIRL!!). The artist/technician is a man named Auric Goldfingers. Like me, he is a follower of Christ, not to mention just being a way cooool guy and EXCELLENT tattoo-er.

The process took 3 hours as he went over over the "old" ink and added the NEW EMBELLISHED DESIGN also. The experience involves more than just physical pain. There is a release of endorphins which is described as:

["Any of a group of peptide hormones that bind to opiate receptors and are found mainly in the brain. Endorphins reduce the sensation of pain and affect emotions"]

Along with the pain, came a strange intoxication of the senses, a euphoria that is unlike anything I've ever experienced. The dictionary describes euphoria, "a feeling of well being, esp. an exaggerated one having no basis in truth or reality". So, there's this guy with a needle, maybe even a group of needles very close to each other moving in and out of your skin VERY rapidly feeling as if someone is cutting you with a knife... but you feel HAPPY, perhaps a little LOOPY. You still feel the pain but now it's different, like getting socked in the stomach. ( Did you lose air and gasp for breath? Of course you did... Now put a couple of pillows over your stomach and take another shot into you solar-plexes. Still hurts a little, but you didn't lose your air.)

For me, it is a crucifixtion of my flesh, a passage to a greater understanding that my mind and more importantly the Spirit in me has a much greater power over that flesh of mine.

I can also describe it as a "marker" to some. It defines a time in your life by putting an exclamation point on it. A time you can look back on and remember each element of that period in your life in vivid, crystal detail.

I've been told that each person is different in how they react to the experience. Each tattoo has it's own story. What is/was yours?... Why would or wouldn't you ever do this? Please comment and we'll talk...

snakes shed their skin... how often, i'm not quite sure, probably different for each specie, but i know this: they need to do it because they are GROWING and their old skin becomes too small to fit into. during this shedding period, they are at their most vulnerable since they may still be partially trapped in their old skin. predators could be lurking to pounce at any time. once out, the new skin is very soft and they are again susceptible to the enemy... however they can move, slither, whatever...

(it feels good to be in a new skin, maybe still shaking off the old... still vulnerable to attacks... but being able to move, dance, drum, sing and shout out to the One who deserves the thanks...)

THEY CALL ME LIGHTMAN!!!

Why are we obsessed with super-heroes? We are... they keep making new movies about them and now there's a t.v. show where people dress up in their favorite super hero costumes. Me... just call me LIGHTMAN for now. Tonight, I'll be heading out to the drive-in movie complex to fill in for my friend Jeff whose celebrating 17 yrs of marriage...YEAH!... with his wife Toni for a weekend away from kids and responsibilty. You see, a few years ago Jeff started a hobby; really a way to supplement his income, by selling glow sticks at the drive-in. Believe it or not, it's quite lucrative.

So, imagine if you can, a man with a dark apron, upon which 100 glowing flourescent light sticks(neon pink, blue, green) protrude his chest, flairing out to the sides, a cowbot hat with three blinking lights (red, blue, yellow), a blinking mouthpiece (red, blue, green, yellow), a rope light necklace streaming light around his neck (red, blue, green)... walking eerily in the twilight, passing children and adults as they stare and wonder... "LIGHTMAN!!" They scream. "HEY, are you selling those" or "COME OVER HERE!" or "MOM, DAD, CAN I HAVE ONE?".... and the frenzy begins...

One of my drum-heroes is none other than Neil Peart of Rush (all the prog-rockers in d'house say "YEAH!"). And strangely it's not for the most obvious reason, his drumming. Sure he's up there as far as one of the best in his field, however that's not why I chose him... In August of 1997, his nineteen-year-old daughter, Selena, was killed in an auto accident. Then within 10 months time, his wife Jackie died of cancer. One year later, crushed but not abandoned, he climbed upon his BMW R1100GS motorcycle and proceeded on a journey of over 55,000 miles from Quebec to Alaska, along the coast to Mexico and Belize then eventually back home over a period of 14 months. Along the way he journaled his setbacks and progress in healing. He said in an interview in Modern Drummer (Sept.'02)...

"The only thing I was motivated to do was travel, to just go down the road every day to see what was over the next hill or around the next corner. Hope was the only muscle at work then, the hope that maybe something would come up. I kept saying to myself, 'something will come up, something will come up'. It's probably the only thing that kept me alive."

He went on to say that after alot of time had passed, life became beautiful and precious again.

Hope... sometimes it's the only muscle at work.

I don't know what's over that next hill Lord, but I 'll go and see... maybe something will come up?...

Breaking up is hard to do...

Wow, this was a rough week. I had a hard time showing emotion or expressing it verbally throughout the tough task of sending our friends off and away to another land. It's bitter sweet in that you want the best for the McDaniels, realize that God has annointed their journey, maybe even think it's a cool time to just pack up and jam outa' here yourself! Yet... it's painful, because we've travelled so far together. We've watched our children sprout, our own selves age and mature (hopefully with grace), and all the exterior changes from the clothes we wore, to hair styles and hair colors changes; a road map of the different cars we've driven along similar and sometimes different paths, and finally to the place where we hang our hats at the end of the day. If I were to compare family pictures from 1993, when we first met the McDaniels, with today, the changes would be vast and obvious.

WE DID IT...IT HAPPENED... we changed on the inside too. But I can't take a picture of my insides... wouldn't really know how to go about it. If I could, and compared it to my insides today, then I'm sure I'd say, "YES! I DID IT. I CHANGED AND GREW." So why, WHY, during this HUGE airport-goodbye-scene was I not an emotional blubbering mess? In fact, I noticed that none of the other guys were sobbing while the women and children cried uncontrollably at times. Sure there were moist eyes but are men really that different when it comes to this type of situation? I'M REALLY JUST WORKIN' THROUGH THIS... Yes, I was sad in a BIG way, yet strangely envious in another. Am I just bottling it up inside and one day soon it'll creep in and "WHAM" hit me? Maybe, I secretly carry in my heart a desire to just "GO" for God in such a HUGE way that there can be no turning back? Perhaps the very chains that keep me anchored to my insecurities are self imposed chains and I really have the key unlock them? Can God unlock 'em? (OF course)... Perhaps I've romanticized the IDEA of puttin' it all on line without taking into account the personal PRICE of a decision; that which is true and inescapable... hmmmm...

Does God want me here, right now, in this time and place? Is this town really my mission field? So many questions to ponder?

So why do I feel numb? Look, I know everyone processes these things differently but I'm beginning to get a little impatient...

We were driving home from the airport yesterday, heading to "Krispy Kreme" to console ourselves in several dozen HOT donuts. Jacqui and the car full of female children were basically dehydrated due to excessive tear-duct leakage. I think I asked Jacqui if she was alright. She answered, "yeah"... then added, "are you, uh, made of stone or something?" Probably because I'd shown a limited amount of emotion to this point. I replied, "Hey, that was harsh." She said, "sorry, I was trying to joke with you about it, but it came out wrong..." I replied, "It's okay. I'm wonderin' too... am I just numb?... I think it hasn't hit me yet." And that was it. It hadn't hit me yet.

So now, I know what I have to do. I have to keep asking questions and keep crying out to God for answers. I have to keep working it through my heart and mind that THEY are gone and that this incredible period in my life has now ended and changed. Then, I'll think of some great times that I had with my friends and look at pictures in albums and remember. I'll examine the many roads that we traversed together, sometimes stumbling, limping along, one holding up the other, then bursting out, running at full speed with abandon towards the goal.

And I'll feel, know, experience... for today, then start over again, when my eyes open, to face another morning... and more questions, for now... more praises to the One who blessed me with knowing the McDaniels.

Happy Birthday Mom!!

Two days ago, on Tuesday Dolores Crockett would have been 79 yrs old; my dad, Henry would be 82... have they really been GONE that long now? (My mom passed away in April of 2002, my dad in October of 1995)...how old am I again...? Well, not as old as I like to admit, however my folks had me LAST... the end of eight babies. Those who know me are aware that I have three older sisters; wait, that's only four kids?... correct, you see, my mom lost four babies... 4...four...FOUR... let that thought roll around in your mind for a moment.

Due to Mom's size (5 ft nothin', less than 100 lbs) and poor perinatal care (she was allowed to smoke AND drink alcohol) she was unable to carry babies throughout the final trimester. So, (aside from my sisters and me) they were all born at around 30 weeks and weighed less than 3 lbs. Joseph, John, David and Donna breathed air for only a few minutes, hours, or only a few days. I often wondered why my folks had not just given up? There was just too much pain to endure in losing four children. Why contiunue? I don't really know... never probably will. BUT, THEY DID! They...just... did... it! They had more babies despite the fear of losing another. I wondered how I would've dealt with that magnitude of emotionally, physically demanding pain had I been the parent in their situation.

As hindsight is 20/20, I can see the road map that they took, that we travelled TOGETHER AS A FAMILY forever stained by such a devistating loss. I witnessed the mark it left on my mom as I often wondered, even fought vehemently against my mother's WORRYING nature... she was the best of the BEST when it came to worry. When I was an infant, I experienced febrile seizures. At 3 yrs of age I had surgery to correct a double hernia. I'm fairly certain that she thought I'd be dead before my 10th birthday. There were the times during potty training when I would run outside to relieve myself in the middle of the street amidst the passing cars. There was the time I was pushing the Tonka truck down the sidewalk, tripped and split my head open.. and so many others... so little time, such MUCH to worry about... the chronic nose bleeds, the spills on the bicycle because if Evil Kneviel could do a stunt or fly off a jump, then I could too. It seems that I was always sick with a cold or the flu. She was always pushing flat 7up, salteens, chicken soup and aspirin.

Then there was the caring, cooking and the feeding, "Eat, Eat!...Did you eat yet?" of us and every single person who passed through our home. TONS of food! Even as a grown man coming to her house I could probably count on one hand the number of times that I DIDN"T eat a full meal. And then when I left... "Oh, here take this loaf of bread, these eggs and this pack of (batteries, paper towels or various sundries). It was 'buy one get one free' day and I just don't have the room!" When my girls came into her life along with my sisters son Matt, she was renewed again in her quest for new levels of worry and new mouths to feed. Soon, I began to see her "worry" in different light: LOVE. Yes, love was the reason and the only true reason for her to continue along a difficult path; even when my father died in 1995 and Mom began to experience debiltating weakness from a lifetime of health problems, she fought for every inch that it took to be a part of our lives. In time, I began to see her small acts of service: remembering a birthday with a gift or a card, attending family functions or grand-kids recitals, a phone call with a kind word, a hot meal, all orchestrated by a women who couldn't drive a car or could barely leave her easy chair without assitance. I could go on and on...

Thank you Lord for my mom (and my dad too). I couldn't imagine it any other way, with anyone else. Thank you Father for the simple, short journey that you arranged for us to take together. It really was a brief dance in the moonlight, wasn't it?...

"I'm Batman..."

My wife's blog had a link to a web site where you can find out which SUPERHERO you are after answering a few questions. I was hoping to be SUPERCHICKEN or perhaps UNDERDOG... but yes, I'm BATMAN... which I'm actually quite pleased about.

I like batman... he's got great gadgets and I've been accused of being a "MacGiver" or "macgivering" by rigging up 3 unrelated items (like a dirt-clod, a paper clip and a small hair brush to create a cold-fusion reactor).
I could have posted a really cool picture of Batman, however, this seemed more fun...what about his swell gadgets?... I'm pickin' up that the green thing is bat-rope... but what is the brown object? A large wedge of cheese? Maybe, hardened bat-guano?... what do you think??

The steps of a man...

It's way too late... or too early depending on who you ask. The power went out again for, what... maybe the 3rd, perhaps 4th time since yesterday. I probably would have slept through it were it not for that annoying chirping sound coming from one of the numerous (hardwired) smoke detectors (which probably means that the battery is low in juice, hence the "chirp" when power is supplied through said (dying) battery) .

The steps of a man are established by the Lord...

Aside from some twilight streaming in through the windows, it was very dark. I arose from the couch and began to feel my way across the B-room (my wife is away on a business trip and the couch is sometimes the only place I can fall asleep) in search of a flashlight. Now for some time, I've always slept with a light on; a bathroom or hall light, night- light, something! I worked at a hospital on the night shift for 6 years straight and a grand total of 9 years all together. This meant sleeping during the day most times until my days off. If slept at night, then awoke suddenly in pitch darkness, I would fly out of bed, disoriented, usually imagining that I'm at work and fell asleep on the job or that I'm supposed to be at work but am late. "What day is it? What time is it?" I would frantically ask Jacqui. So, this seemed to lessen the trauma if I left a light on and could survey my environment.

...and He delights in his way.

As I proceed to my bedroom for a flashlight, the house appeared to be a completely foreign territory. Had I never wandered through my house in near-total darkness? The small amount of light being filtered by the window treatments created a surreal psychodelic effect in that I could not focus my eyes on anything. I continued to feel my way down the hall navigating around the dog, laundry baskets, the vaccuum, shoes; all the while trying to clear my eyes and focus but to no avail.

When he falls, he will not be hurled headlong, because the Lord is the One who holds his hand.
Ps 37:23

I made to the bedroom and found my flashlight. I went downstairs and hunted for the chirping, rogue detector. Along the way I grabbed some big candles (thanks to my Honey for being a candle girl!) and eventually found the noisey smoke detector. As I struggled to open it, the power came back on. I wouldn't have realized it on my own, but a little voice called out in the darkness. "Dad.. hey dad? The power is back on." It was my daughter Alex coming up behind me. My rustling around had awakened her. Then the odd falshlight activity had alerted her to something going on downstairs. As we headed back to bed I wondered why Alex had not called out for me initially from the safety of her loft bed? Why did she venture down into the darkness without even a flashlight, into the dangerous unknown? Suddenly, I knew why. She knows the sound her father makes when he's in the house. It is distinct and personal, rich with subtle nuances. There is no doubt in her mind that her father is in the house.

This morning I cut myself shaving...(some may laugh, as I have roughly 27 hairs on my face)...1st thought was, "gotta change the blade, must be dull"...then, almost immediately came, " for the word of God is living and active and sharper than any two-edge sword," into my brain...the rest I had to look up:... "and peircing as far as the division of soul and spirit, of both joints and marrow, and able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart.
...how fascinating that in our FLESH world we are cut and injured most by that which is DULL...sure the sharp knives and other things cut too; but you have a greater chance of an accident with a UN-SHARP tool...WHY?...because U expect it to be sharp and then press extra hard because it's not cutting..then..OOPS , comes the slip, then the damage...GOD IS THE OPPOSITE: His sword never needs to be sharpened, but simply put into the motion of cutting; being used...
Q: where have I not allowed the sword to cut in my life?
Q: where is He cutting now in my life and in the body of believers?

In Gen 12 the Lord told Abram, "leave your country, your people and your father's household and go to the land I will show you"...verse 4 says.."so Abram left as the Lord told him..."

For me it was more like one word, not audibly heard but felt within every pore of my being...GO...but God the people need me and my wife for healing...GO...but i can't let them down...GO NOW...GET OUT OF THE WAY...

so yes...jacqui and i have stepped down from the leadership of 1st baptist church... what can this all mean? what will become of us... what will become of 1st baptist? well...to all of the above I DON'T KNOW!

however...if i submit to my Lord daily, hourly, moment by minute by second, then He will lead me and my family to a place, a house of worship, wherever it may be and whatever it may look like.

THE REAL REASON FOR LEAVING: God said...that was it, so stop guessing, gossiping and projecting! if that is confusing, call me.

FAUX REASON: the mcdaniels made us do it...we signed an oath in blood...RIDICULOUS AS THIS SOUNDS, SOME MAY BELIEVE IT!!...i am JOKING of course...mrs crockett and i have never pursued going to hawaii outside of a simple prayer, "God should we go to hawaii? uh...let me know...open some BIG doors...if not, well, you know where i'll be"...

I FIND THAT HARD TO BELIEVE!!...yes someone actually said this to our face when we told them we were NOT leaving because of the mcdaniels leaving...if you know me, believe that i am a man of integrity and that the spirit of our livng, breathing Lord, dwells within my fleshy confines, then perhaps He has driven our decision to leave; to be "booted" out by Him for His purpose-or- does that only work when "we" understand or've done the booting?... it should not

GOD IS IN CONTROL: as He works and speaks to those who hear His voice, they will respond and step into new areas of leadership...our responsbility in promoting UNITY in the body is to not spread lies about others or about a movement like CRASH, but rather to trust in the integrity and the personal walk of the individual or group that THEY are pursuing CHRIST...OR picking up the phone or standing face to face and telling that person what you think.

"I'm trying to free your mind, Neo. But I can only show you the door. You're the one that has to walk through it." Morpheus, The Matrix

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