Extending Grace

I was really struggling whether to post this out of fear of possible backlash. It's easily to be misinterpreted with stuff like what I'm about to write, but I think it's necessary that we think about this. But first, an introducing story:

The only time I've seen Les Miserables [which I prefer to pronounce phonetically rather than using the correct French pronunciation] was the video of the 1998 movie with Liam Neeson, Geoffrey Rush and Uma Thurman. I really need to see it performed on stage. Victor Hugo's work is an epic story filled with quite a few theological themes.

One of the key points in the story happens at the very beginning. Jean Valjean is released from prison after nineteen years for stealing a loaf of bread in an attempt to feed his sister and her children. Unable to escape his ex-convict status and find lodging, a priest welcomes him in for the night. Jean Valjean steals from him the priest's collection of valuable silverware and flees into the night. The next morning he is apprehended by the police and is brought back to the priest's house. The priest, extending grace, says the silverware was a gift and additionally gives Jean Valjean two silver candlesticks and sends him on his way. The simple act of grace transforms Jean Valjean's life.

Many people hail Les Miserables as a masterpiece. Yet many of us are unwilling to try to live out what the story actually advocates: helping people obtain redemption by extending grace. While we appreciate the story, the actions of the priest are dismissed as irrelevant to modern life. I mean, would any of us really welcome an ex-convict into our homes? I've never had the opportunity to do so, but I can't say that I would. In fact, I'm not sure I'd want to live next door to someone who's served extended prison time. Would you?

The news media has been relentless the past few months towards registered sex offenders. Part of this is the reaction to the many cases of child abduction/murder that have happened recently in the US. They have us fearing for the safety of our children [even referring people to websites where you type in your street address to find out how many sex offenders live in your area]. Just this morning I was watching a local news station which reported that a community was trying to get such a person out of their neighborhood. I suppose you could call this a witch hunt. Fellow minister Tim Reed wrote that sex offenders might be the modern day equivalent of Jesus' tax collectors and prostitutes. I think he's correct. Yet when it comes to these people, who are viewed as the refuse of our society, even Christians feel freely obligated to pile on and point fingers of condemnation.

Now don't get me wrong here: the actions of rapists, child molesters and other offenders are heinous and in-human. But these offenders ARE still human. Yet you probably wouldn't know it when talking to some followers of Jesus. There have been times that I've been with fellow Christians and have heard the following phrases spoken about in connection to such people:

"We should just kill 'em all."
"Those people don't deserve to live."
"We should just drop 'em all on an island somewhere . . ."

I think I've asked this before, but it bears repeating: Why is it that we Christians, those who should be the purveyors of grace, are so hesitant to offer grace to those who desperately need it? Without the actions of the priest, Jean Valjean would never have been able to have been redeemed. But we miss the grace. There's a misunderstood teaching that the righteous should live and the evil should die. Judgment of this is left to God alone, not to us. But we get the opportunity to emulate God by offering the grace He offers. The only thing distinguishing the blurred lines of who are the righteous and who are the evil is His grace.

And just another thought: Jesus never promised safety in this world for His followers; He actually predicted the opposite. We need to stop letting people, popular culture and media make us fearful of living our lives. Even if danger lurks around the corner, we need to fearless face the world. They can kill the body, but not the soul. Regardless how we're treated, we're commanded to love others- sinners and saints alike. Maybe you'll never meet a registered sex offender. But if you do, how will you treat them? I'm not saying you have to let them babysit your kids; you don't show them unlimited trust, but you treat them as human beings. But when the petition to kick them out of your neighborhood comes around, do you sign it?

It's easy to forget that we've all been given some silver candlesticks in our lives.

Rounding Third And Heading For Home

I had the chance to go to the Reds game last night. Sunday night baseball on ESPN and the Reds . . . once again, failed to show up and embarrass themselves. Let me drop some random thoughts and observations from my experience last night.

1) I still hate the Dodgers. Growing up a Reds fan, it was natural. The Dodgers were in the same division as the Reds, so they were rivals. Any good Cincinnati fan is supposed to hate the Dodgers. So usually, this weekend series would've packed 'em out attendance-wise. Unfortunately, there were less than 20,000 people there last night and only about 70,000 for the three game series. Maybe it's because the Reds seem to be out of the pennant race by May, or maybe it's because we've forgotten our heritage. Yeah, pretty pathetic.

2) Great American Ballpark is a beautiful place to watch a game. I guess all the tax dollars used to build a new stadium for the Reds was worth it [although I still get mad at Paul Brown Stadium]. We were sitting in the middle deck area. The concessions area on that level is like a sports bar. It was an enclosed area with tons of tv's and gorgeous furniture. Not quite like the concession stands in old Riverfront Stadium. I must say that it just doesn't feel like baseball without the smell of cigarette smoke. That may sound demented, but that's how I remember it. It almost made me want to light up a Marlboro on the way home.

3) I'm afraid baseball is a dying sport. I hope I'm not right about this one, but let's face it: it's an incredibly boring sport. The next generation of kids can't even pay attention. They were so many things for kids to do down there that it reminds me of Kings Island. When I was a kid we used to go to the ball game to actually watch the game. Novel idea. But I guess as long as they sell beer at the games, it has a chance.

4) THEY NEED TO BRING BACK THE ORIGINAL MR. RED RACE. I cannot stress this enough. For those unfamiliar with what I'm talking about, back at the old stadium, they used to have three baseballs with hats [marked Mr Red numbers 1, 2, and 3] tediously race across the scoreboard. It was awesome to here people shout out the numbers as they went along. They replaced it with this dumb computer animation of Mr Redlegs, Rosie Red and Mr Red freakishly running around the ballpark. Why, of all things, couldn't they bring this piece of nostalgia to the new digs? I don't want all that technology crap. Kelly and I were able to attend the last game at Riverfront and I have pictures of the last true Mr Red race. I thought by now they'd bring it back, but I guess it's gone for good. Sad, truly sad.

Anyway it goes, the Reds are still my team and I had a great time last night. Thanks to Tim Tucker and his parents for hooking me up with a seat.

Mama, Just Killed A Man . . .

I actually have a lot to get done this morning, but I had to write a few words this Mother's Day about Mom. My mother is one of the most wonderful people I've ever known my entire life. She is the epitome of hard work, thoroughly raising four kids. By thoroughly, I mean that she always went the extra mile to take care of us in any and every way. For example, the only time we had to make our beds was during the summer when we weren't in school; Mom would always do it. I don't think my brother Chris still knows how to make his bed [am I wrong there?]. Anytime we had to be taken someplace or needed anything, Mom never let us down. I can't think of any time growing up when she failed to come through. I was in junior high when she went back to teaching, and she still figured out how to manage her home so that you couldn't tell anything changed. The thirty-first chapter of the book of Proverbs describes her perfectly.

But there were always times that we let Mom down. Yep, growing up we did bad things that angered her. She wasn't the disciplinarian though, so you hoped for a spanking from her instead of Dad [she could never generate the force needed for correction that Dad could]. But even then, she never stayed disappointed long.

This morning I was thinking of one time in particular that I didn't do her right. It was May of 1984. We were doing the obligatory Mother's Day projects in school, one where we made this booklet dedicated to praising our moms. On one page we were supposed to draw a picture of what our mom's do during the day. So I drew a picture of what I thought would be fun: my mother, sitting on the couch, watching soap operas [Days of Our Lives to be exact]. Now it is true that my mom would sit down in the afternoons to watch the occasional soap opera [by the way, later in college I became addicted to Days of Our Lives], but that was after she had been up since 5:30 cooking, cleaning, sewing, ironing, and performing many other tasks to keep her home spotless. I specifically remember the way she reacted when she saw the picture: she laughed a little saying, "Is that what you think that I do?" but thanked me for my booklet. Years later, I feel horrible about it. For a cheap laugh I lost that opportunity to let her know how much I loved her. Sorry 'bout that, Mom.

I know Mom isn't scarred by that incident 21 years ago. I'll see her this afternoon and bring it up; I'm sure she doesn't even remember it. She knows how much she's appreciated. But instead of just buying a card or a present for this holiday, give your mom a call, or a hug. Even if you have a lackluster relationship with her. And more importantly, check in on her in a few weeks and in a couple months from now when societal celebrations don't obligate you to do so. If it weren't for her, you wouldn't be here today.

Love ya, Mom.

Run For The Roses

Today is the most exciting two minutes in sports: the Kentucky Derby. I'll admit, I never really cared too much for horse racing until I started dating my Kentucky-born and raised wife [I think one of our first dates was to Turfway Park where we lost a staggering $10]. Horses are magnificent creatures and I find it fascinating to watch them race.

A few years ago, while doing recruiting for the college, I was in Louisville with an afternoon to kill. I found my way to Churchill Downs and took a tour of the facility. It's funny because, whenever you see it on TV, it looks pristine and almost regal. Actually, it's pretty ugly place from the outside. Churchill is in the middle of this old residential neighborhood, the closest store is a dilapidated gas station down the street. But once you're inside, it's awesome.

There's something like a five year wait to get tickets to the Derby, unless you want to do the infield, where they cram thousands of people. Apparently that's where all the plastered college co-eds watch the race. That's why during the telecast they usually don't show shots of the infield, fearing that viewers will see R-rated content.

So how do I make my pick for the Derby? I really have no idea about horses, so I've created my own method. It's a combination of selecting a horse with decent odds and a cool sounding name. So if a horse is named Montezuma's Revenge but is at 250 to 1 odds, I won't pick him. Likewise, if a horse is at 2 to 1 odds but is named Gertrude's Daisies, there's no way. Take, for instance, a few years ago. There was a horse with 20 to 1 odds named War Admiral. Decent odds and an awesome name. He went on to win the Derby and almost won the Triple Crown. So this year's favorite is Bellamy Road. I'm not feeling him because it makes me think of Bill Bellamy, the old MTV VJ. My pick: Sun King. If I had a little more guts, I'd pick Don't Get Mad. Yep, I'm a wuss. We'll see how I do . . .

Dealing With The Past

I'm a tad dismayed because there's a movie coming out this weekend that I really want to see but, because of time constraints, won't be able to till Monday at the earliest. The movie is Kingdom of Heaven. It's a period film about a young French man [played by the always elvish Orlando Bloom] who joins the Christian Crusade to defend the city of Jerusalem from Muslim invaders. Interestingly enough, while it would seem a movie of this topic would spark controversy in our politically correct times, not much has been said about it. It's a fascinating time of history that has been too often ignored.

Some of you are unfamiliar with the Crusades, so pardon a very brief history lesson: In 1095, Pope Urban II decreed that Christians should take Jerusalem out of the hands of the Muslims; Muslims had taken control of the city in 638 and Crusaders finally took the city in 1099. The Muslims then recaptured the city in 1187. Except for one brief additional period of Christian rule, the Muslims prevailed and maintained control of the Holy Lands.

It's difficult for Christians to reflect upon the Crusades. A byproduct of these campaigns were horrible atrocities committed by Crusaders in the name of Jesus. Thousands of innocent people were killed, women raped and towns destroyed, all by people who claimed to be accomplishing God's will. Some Christians refuse to acknowledge this as part of their heritage- especially those with a Protestant background who claim no responsibility for actions of the Roman Catholic Church. But this is part of our past. Yes it's disgusts us to think of what happened back then and we would never imagine doing things like that today, but we can't escape these skeletons in our closet.

As a Christian, I am part of the catholic church [little "c" meaning "universal"]; what we would call the body of Christ. That means I'm not just responsible for my actions. Being part of a universal community expands my accountability to all Christians- past, present and future. Those followers of Jesus, who hundreds of years ago rampaged the countryside and slaughtered people, are my spiritual ancestors. Christians in Rwanda, who a few years ago shed the blood of hundreds of thousands of innocent people, are my brothers and sisters. And future believers, who commit violent acts years after I'm dead and gone, are my descendents. This may sound crazy to you, but I believe it to be a Scriptural truth.

There's a problem in the way we've presented the Christian faith the past few years as a "personal relationship." True, each of us must decide what we will do with Jesus in our own lives, but we are also instructed to be involved in each other's lives. Throughout the Bible we see the importance of community and Christianity. Most of Paul's letters in the New Testament are written to churches [and when he writes to individuals, it's almost always about churches]. When someone in the community is entangled in a serious sin, it is the responsibility of the church to deal with it. You don't get a free pass just because you're not the offending party. For example, there's an interesting read about a church needing to handle an incest problem in I Corinthians 5.

I guess my point is this: you can't dismiss the sin of others with a mere Bart Simpson "I didn't do it." Don't be afraid of the shady past of the church; it doesn't discount our message. Trying to bleach Christian history of past indiscretion to make Christianity look better isn't effective. It's just not believable. The church and Christians are flawed, but our founder is not. Despite all the excess baggage and guilt the church bears from thousands of years of screwing-up, powerful and redemptive things are happening in this world. The way of Jesus can work. It just takes some work.

Don't run from your past. Learn from it.

05.05.05

In honor of Cinco De Mayo [did you know that the Mexicans defeated the French to gain independence? Another reason to love this holiday] and my affinity for Mexican food, I decided to grace you with my list of top five Mexican restaurants here in Cincinnati. I sure do love the Mexican food. So here we go, in reverse order.

5 Taco Bell- paying homage to the patriarchs, TB created the Mexican food market in the US. Interesting fact: Larry Collins, a guy from our church, used to work for Taco Bell and invented the Double Decker Taco. Good idea.

4 Don Pablo's- Until the recent explosion of authentic Mexican restaurants, Don's was the place to get your fix. The probably win the prize for best tortilla chips anywhere. I always order the dang quesa-dilla.

3 Qdoba- I decided to chose just one of the burrito places and Qdoba is my choice. Honorable mention goes to Chipotle who just missed out because of the absence of nacho cheese from their menu. How can you do Mexican without even the possibility of nacho cheese? Seriously Chipotle, add the nacho cheese and you're on the list. These new burrito places are my favorite new fast food-like restaurants.

2 Fiesta Bravo- authentic Mexican food done fast and well. They have great salsa. one time Kelly and I caught them before a holiday and they gave us a whole container of their salsa that I ate for three days. This is the closest Mexican place to our house but, even if it wasn't, I'd go out of my way to eat Fiesta Bravo.

1 El Rancho Grande- Yes, by far, the best Mexican place in town. You know it's good when we could be at Fiesta Bravo in two minutes, but we'll drive almost twenty minutes to get to El Rancho Grande. Located right off the Sharonville exit off I-275, the quality of the food and speed by which they get it to you makes it the ultimate dining experience. True, the ambiance leaves something to be desired, but the food is so good you don't even notice. You're loco if you don't try their burrito loco. Currently El Rancho holds the title of my favorite restaurant. If you've never been here, you need to go- today. El Rancho Rocks!

Olé!

Straight Up, Now Tell Me

Say it ain't so Paula! If I had known you liked younger men I would have held out . . . er . . . um, just kidding Kelly. Definitely just kidding.

Living through college as a Christian

Even though the audience of my blog is diverse in age, I wanted to put up a link to this story concerning college students and faith. Time Magazine sent a reporter to Indiana University to explore how Christians deal with sin and debauchery prevalent on campus. The most common answer: they insulate themselves in a Christian subculture.

For years Christian organizations have done their best to infiltrate college campuses around the country, knowing how critical it is to reach young adults with the message of Jesus. Unfortunately, some of these groups become a holy huddle, adhering to a garbage-in/garbage-out gospel [I laughed when I read the part in the article about Christian college students staying in on a Friday night to watch The Incredibles on DVD]. I know some of you reading this are involved in these campus groups or you have been involved with them in the past. I'd really be interested to hear what you think about the article. It's a few page read, but I'd encourage you to read it through.

Food, glorious food!

Here we go again: a man in North Carolina found a severed finger in his frozen custard. And apparently this one's legit because one of the employees admitted to losing the finger. Clarence Stowers was Mr. Lucky when he discovered the dessert he bought from Kohl's Frozen Custard Sunday night had an extra bonus.

Now I know this might gross some of you out, but I'm loving this so you gotta read his quote:

"I thought it was candy because they put candy in your ice cream ... to make it a treat. So I said, 'OK, well, I'll just put it in my mouth and get the ice cream off of it and see what it is.'"

That's awesome. How many of you have ever done that while eating ice cream? My next question would be how many of you will ever do that with your ice cream again? Maybe these latest food mishaps will cause the public to stop going out to eat so much. But most of us are delusional when it comes to what we actually put into our mouths. Honestly, have you ever really thought about where your food comes from? Who's handled it and how has it been prepared? If you were to think about it long and hard about it, you'd probably die from starvation.

So what's the big deal about the finger? Come on, it was like finding the prize in a box of Captain Crunch. Old Clarence will get a nice payout, which he can use to buy a new car or house or something, all because he was the lucky one. You are what you eat, I guess.

I had two hot dogs at the golf course yesterday. 'Nuff said.

Fore!

We had our staff golf scramble today at the Greencrest golf course in West Chester. Our team tied for first [but because there were only three teams, I guess we really tied for second to last]. During the first three holes we played, it was beautiful out; the sun was shining and the temperature was in the low fifties. For the rest of the day, the sun hid behind the clouds, the wind picked up and we froze our butts off. But hey, I was out playing golf on a Monday. It's still good livin'.

I really struggle with golf because it's different than any other sport I've played. I'm not naturally athletic, so I usually compensate by hustling as much as possible. The problem is, it's impossible to hustle in golf. You have to have your body under complete control, which is difficult for me to do. So I hit a few good shots today, but I hit a few ugly ones too. I've come to the realization that, even though we share the same birthday, I am not Tiger Woods. I've resigned myself to fact that I just need to keep it simple, go out and play, and not let it get to me that I'm not that good.

I'll just stand over the ball, draw back the club and do my best Ty Webb "Na, na, na, na, na. na, na, na, na, na"

Where are those good old fashioned values . . .

I want to open up a little here about one of the television shows I watch. In doing so, I'm not trying to offend anyone, but am just being honest about what I find entertaining. I'll admit, I'm a little timid about opening myself up like this because there's always someone anxious to play holier than thou [especially when a minister is concerned]. But I trust you, so I shouldn't be worried at all. Levy any complaints to me personally.

One of my favorite shows is back: Family Guy returned to Fox tonight. A new episode was shown for the first time in something like four years. For those unfamiliar with it, Family Guy an adult themed cartoon that was a few years ahead of its time. It's not as irreverant as South Park, but pushes the limits a bit more than the Simpsons. It developed a cult following a few years after Fox cancelled it, but what brought it back to the prime time schedule was a great reception it received on Cartoon Network's Adult Swim which aires at 11pm. It outdrew Letterman and Leno among 18 to 35 males. Personally, I enjoy the brand of edgy humor that drives Family Guy.

Tonight's episode probably went a little further than what I prefer [they joked about Mel Gibson producing a Passion of The Christ 2 co-starring Chris Tucker], but there were a few lines that still have me laughing. Here's how they set up the best one of the night: Mel Gibson is chasing Peter and Lois with a gun and runs off the edge of Mount Rushmore, falling to his death. Lois remarks to Peter, "I can't believe he just ran off that cliff." To this Peter replies, "Of course he did. Everyone knows that Christians don't believe in gravity."

I don't know if any of you Christians find that offensive, but I find it hilarious. I really can't explain why, but I swear it's funny. To end this post, here are some quotes of my favorite Family Guy character Stewie. Stewie is an intelligent baby with a British accent who is intent on world domination:

"There's always been a lot of tension between Lois and me, and it's not so much that I want to kill her, it's just, I want her not to be alive anymore."

"Hey, mother, I come bearing a gift. I'll give you a hint. It's in my diaper and it's not a toaster."

"Let me guess, you picked out yet another colorful box with a crank that I'm expected to turn and turn until OOP! big shock, a jack pops out and you laugh and the kids laugh and the dog laughs and I die a little inside."

Who doesn't want to marry a millionaire?

I missed this news story during the past couple of days, but find it interesting. A bride-to-be down in Atlanta was four days away from getting married in a huge ceremony. There were 14 bridesmaids and 14 groomsmen. The thirty-two year old lady was nervous about the wedding so she ran away. I'm sure this happens all the time, but this lady then calls her fiancee [and the police] falsely claiming she had been kidnapped. The people in the woman's hometown begin a huge search only to discover the hoax; she ran off to Vegas and ended broke in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

Just a few thoughts, here. How encouraging would it be for the groom that your fiancee doesn't want to marry you so she runs away and fakes getting kidnapped? I mean, a note or an email saying "I just don't think I'm ready for this" would've been a little easier for the guy to take. I'm sure this incident will do wonders for his self-esteem. Fortunately for him, most of the focus will be on her and her loco-ness. I can understand wanting to back out of nuptials, but don't do it by involving local and state law enforcement officers. And how lit would you be if you were one of those 28 people in the wedding party? You know for a wedding that big the dress/tuxedo wasn't cheap. And since the ceremony never happened, they probably won't even get the little gift for participating. What a rip off!

You see, this goes to prove what I always tell the couples I counsel before weddings: communication is the key. You'd better get it right before you get married, otherwise your fiancee could fake a kidnapping. It happens.

Love That VH1

Before we head off to church this evening, we're getting some Saturday chores done while the tv is on. On VH1 right now they're playing a show called the 40 Least Hip Hop Moments; I'm loving it. Making the list was Will Smith's "Getting Jiggy With It" and Kris Kross's backwards clothes wearing habits. I can't wait till they pull out the Color Me Badd.

Remember years ago when VH1 was the "uncool" music network? It was music for old people. Then came Behind The Music and they've been getting younger and younger in the music they cover. They making a living out of these culture and list shows [I love watching Best Week Ever]. Unlike MTV, at least they have actual music on their station.

I have to admit, it's one of my favorite tv channels. But maybe it hasn't changed as much as I've gotten older.

A NEW BEIT CARR

I decided that six months in, I needed some kind of change with the blog appearance. There's not much to chose from when it comes to Blogger [whose server space I use] so until I go big time with this thing and start paying for server space, I'll take what they give. I played around with some other free templates, but they had these little glitches that were driving me crazy, so here's the new look. Hope it works for you.

I Need Your Help

I have a social experiment I want to conduct.

I'm the webmaster of our church's website. Recently I've been accessing the stats on pages views, to see where people go when they come to the website. Just for fun, we checked out the staff bios that people check out. Here is the ranking of the ministers:

1. Tom Moll [obviously, he's the man]
2. Troy Clark
3. Mary Jane Burgess
4. Nate Grella [the newbie minister]
5. Howard Pauley
6. Me
7. Max Boothby
8. David Lautzenheiser
9. Mike Allen

Sixth place, people! Sixth place in a nine man race! That's just not acceptable. So here's the deal: there's no way I'm going to surpass the hits that Tom gets [everyone wants to know about the preacher], but second place is definitely attainable. Go to the staff page on our church's website [http://www.ccmason.org/staff.htm] and click on my bio on the page. Do it once or twice a day for the next couple of days. I'm betting if all of you reading this just went and did it, I'd be right behind the boss in no time.

Some of you might think this is the stupidest request in the world but hey, even the newbie is getting more hits than me. I just want to see what effect me posting this on my blog has on my hit counter. And I know some of you will feel guilty about poor little Mike Allen being in last place, so go ahead and click his bio too. Just don't do me wrong here. He can grovel for his own support on his blog.

I'm going the distance! Rudy! Rudy! Rudy! Remember the Titans! Nobody puts Baby in the corner. Peace in the Middle East.

"Whoa, we're halfway there . . ."

I was thinking about this blog this morning and I looked back into my previous posts . This past Monday was the six-month anniversary of Beit Carr**. I guess since I've made it this far, I'm in it for the long haul.

My wife told me this morning that I inspired yet another convert into the kingdom of blogdom. This is only the second person I know about that started because of me, but I swear, we're starting a revolution [Jesus only started with 12 people, so poop on you skeptics. NOT THAT I THINK I'M JESUS. I'm just making a numerical point here. I think I'm losing my mind]. Anyway, I left a post on Brynn's new blog to get things started for her. Here's part of what I wrote:

I love the bloggin'. Not only has blogging helped me learn more about who I am, but it introduced me to a brand new audience of people I can offend. I've only been at it six months, but here's my simple advice for a good blog.

1) Be careful who you bash. There are tons of bloggers out there who make a living ripping on other people. That's the epitome of uncreativity. Nobody likes hanging around a critic because they never know if they might be the next one criticized.

2) Watch your p's and q's. Even though I use spell checker, I still mess up grammar every once in awhile. There's nothing more painful than to look back at something you posted the day before and read something stupid you wrote like, "I is for me tummy."

3) Don't try to hit a home run every time. It's tough to manufacture humor and depth everyday, so sometimes I just throw stuff out there that is neither. You'd be surprised how interesting a short post on paper cuts can be.

So hopefully you enjoy the stuff I'm putting out there. Even if you don't, I'm not sure that I care. I'm just trying to be me, man- keepin' it real and gettin' paid. So here's to another six months of this great social experiment playing out before the masses. Who knows where it'll take us.

**Something I never knew until my wife made aware to me a few months ago is that my blog's name is in the Bible in I Samuel 7:10,11:

"While Samuel was sacrificing the burnt offering, the Philistines drew near to engage Israel in battle. But that day the Lord thundered with loud thunder against the Philistines and threw them into such a panic that they were routed before the Israelites. The men of Israel rushed out of Mizpah and pursued the Philistines, slaughtering them along the way to a point below Beth Car."

"Beth" is the NIV way of spelling out "Beit," the Hebrew word for "house." I didn't know it was in the Bible when I named my blog. But I think that just reaffirms my spiritual depth as the Bible pours out of me even when I don't know it. I guess it's interesting that a slaughter took place there. Sorta sounds like my style. Welcome to Beit Carr.

About Kentucky . . .

WARNING: This post will get me in trouble!

Howard Pauley [our Seniors Minister], Mary Jane Burgess [our Childrens Minister] and I are heading down to Louisville tonight to see Drew Humphreys [longtime CCM intern] get ordained. Actually we're not going TO Louisville. We're going THROUGH Louisville to New Albany, Indiana. But honestly, it might as well be Louisville since it's right across the Ohio River.

Louisville is a nice city. As a University of Cincinnati fan, I have strong disdain for the Louisville Cardinals, but I'm cool with everything else down there. Interestingly enough, Kelly and my's first vacation after our honeymoon was a couple of days in Louisville checking out the interesting sights around town. There's Churchill Downs, a beautiful riverfront area, good restaurants; overall it's a cool place to be. If you're ever down there, just make sure you pronounce the city's name correctly: it's Lou-uh-ville. Seriously, the locals will respect you for it.

I'd like let those unfamiliar with Kentucky and Kentucky living in on a little secret. If I were to ask you, "In what state are Louisville and Lexington located?" you would probably answer, "Kentucky." I would then tell you that you are wrong. Louisville and Lexington might be located within the state boundaries, but they're so not Kentucky, just like Northern Kentucky is not Kentucky. Trust me, my family roots are from Kentucky, I married a Kentucky girl- I know what I'm talking about here.

Yes, there are pockets of true Kentucky within these urban areas- just visit a Wal-Mart[but then again, if you visit a Wal-Mart in Hamilton, Ohio, or even off Fields Ertel road, it'll feel like Kentucky, so that proves nothing]. Louisville and Lexington are far too refined to be considered Kentucky. These are places with the latest stores and restaurants. The people dress in the latest fashions and drive beautiful cars. There are certain stereotypes that we Northerners keep concerning Kentuckians [shoeless, toothless, mullet laden] that are completely absent from these metro areas. I SWEAR, IF YOU SAW ONE OF THEM ON THE STREET YOU WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO POINT THEM OUT BECAUSE THEY LOOK JUST LIKE US! I know I might take some grief from my in-laws and wife for stating this, but it's all meant to be a compliment. Any of you could easily pass for Northerners . . . well, except for the accents.

This isn't just mindless Kentucky bashing- I really love the Bluegrass State. I'd much rather drive through Kentucky than Indiana [don't get me started on them stinkin' Hoosiers]. I just thought it was about time that someone set the record straight. Maybe they can finally fix those geography books and claim Lexington, Louisville and Northern Kentucky as what they really are: Kentucky territories. Let's leave the designation for true Kentucky places like Maysville, Pineville, Grayson and yes- Hazard [insert General Lee Horn sound effect here].

Dang it! I forgot my passport! Guess I'll have to run home and get it before heading south.

Best TV moment of the month

We're sitting here watching the Amazing Race. One of the leading teams has been a dating couple named Ron and Kelly. Kelly was a former beauty queen, and Ron fought in the Iraqi war and was taken as a prisoner of war in the conflict. Kelly begins a tirade on how Ron never finishes anything. The conversation goes as follows:

Kelly: That's your problem. You don't commit.
Ron: Sure, that's my problem. I only committed by joining the military.
Kelly: Yeah, and you found a way to get out of that.
Ron: What do you mean?
Kelly: You were a POW, so you didn't have to finish.
Ron: That was my plan all along. Get taken prisoner and be tortured so I could get out of the military.

Classic.

I doubt that Kelly will be speaking for any veterans' gatherings in the near future. Hence the beauty of reality TV. People say the darndest things and we get to watch.

Rainy Days and Wednesdays . . .

I didn't go to work today. No, I'm not being rebellious. Tuesdays are my day off. Life in the ministry is a little different, having to work weekends, so I get a day off during the week to make up for it. When I was first in the ministry [the Madeira Church of Christ, in case you're wondering], I took Fridays. It was pretty cool because Kelly was finishing up at Northern Kentucky University and for one semester she didn't have classes on Fridays. And since we didn't have services on Saturdays, we were able to spend two days together without having anything to do. It was a great way to start off our marriage.

While working at Cincinnati Bible College or Cincinnati Christian University or wherever the crap I worked, I worked Mondays through Fridays which gave me the taste of how real people live. I actually had a weekend. If we wanted to run away for a Saturday and Sunday there was nothing stopping us. It was sort of liberating, but since we were heavily involved at Oak Hills Christian Church, we really didn't run away that much. But still, Friday nights were great, as the weekend was ahead of me and Sunday nights were dreadful, as the work week laid waiting.

Since I've come to CCM, I take Tuesdays off. Some people are surprised that I chose that day, but I really was just being flexible. Those staff members who have families like to take Friday to give them some kind of weekend feel, so I just picked a day the "family guys" don't take. Since all of us are in on Mondays for our staff meetings, I was left with Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday. Of these three days, which day did I least want to be in the office? Tuesdays.

I love Tuesdays. They're awesome. Tuesdays are my Saturdays. And Mondays are no longer bad because Mondays are my Fridays. I guess that makes Wednesdays my Mondays, but honestly they don't feel like Mondays. In case you're wondering, Thursdays still feel like Thursdays and Fridays still feel pretty Friday-ish, but not so much. And forget about Sundays- I have no idea what those are like.

So if I ask you what day of the week it is, it's not that I'm absent minded. I'm just on a different calendar.

For My Wife

I could tell Kelly wasn't sleeping well last night. And I knew this morning when she wasn't getting up that she was out of commission. Yep, I have a sick wife at home.

Now I'm not trying to cause any trouble with my fellow men-folk, but it seems that we of the testosterone-driven persuasion handle illnesses worse than them estrogen-laden creatures do. I know, this is me releasing a stereotype to the general public, but I believe it to be true: men milk sickness for everything it's worth. My saying this might be breaking some sort of man code of silence about the issue, but we should fearlessly admit our short-comings so we can meet the future head-on! Trust me, men! We must diffuse this weapon of mass destruction that women can [and have been able to] use on us. Let's get it all out on the table: We're babies when we're sick. We want women to sympathize and take care of us. It's tough being a man! Now get me some stinkin' chicken noodle soup!!!

Case in point: the week before last I had some kind of ear infection type thing that gave me the sniffles for a few days. One of those days I had to go into work while I had a fever. I claimed victory over the sickness, unwilling to let it hold me down. My temperature was a blazing 99.1 degrees, but I was able to persevere. Just to keep people informed, I sent around one of those prayer emails that read like this:

"Please keep me in your prayers today as I'm suffering with some sort of severe illness. I'm not sure exactly what I have but I refuse to seek medical attention for it, as there are other people in more dire circumstances than I. I do not know what will happen as a result, but if the Lord calls me home today, don't feel bad for not taking me seriously. I find inspiration from the words of the great poet Gloria Gaynor: 'I will survive.'"

I installed a web cam in my office so people could monitor my progress throughout the day. Channel 9 News did a story on my entitled, "The man who refused to quit." By the time I got home that night, Kelly had seen "Save Steve" spray painted on the Warren County water tower and knew my condition was serious. She waited on me hand and foot the remainder of the evening; the chicken noodle soup flowed like water in a flash flood, my friends! Luckily, I survived.

Conversely, I find reactions to illness to be different with most women. My mother would be sick about two days a year and she usually faked being well so she could get stuff done. I honestly can't remember a time where she was sick for consecutive days; I'm sure she was, but never let it show. I think the day after my sister was born she left the hospital and proceeded to build our house with her bear hands. Kelly's cut out of the same mold. That's why I know she's not feeling well today, because she'd be at work if she could. She's gotta have something like malaria. Is that contagious?

So my wife's at home today feeling horrible and I'm at work feeling fine. While I do feel a bit guilty about not being sick with her, she'll have to go this one alone. Fortunately I just added Apple's Airport Express at home, so she can get on the laptop wirelessly while she's bed ridden and surf the web. And she'll probably get some work done this afternoon while, if I was home sick, I'd be messing around with fantasy baseball stuff. Yep, typical male.

Hope you feel better, baby. You're the champ. Promise I'll take care of you when I get home- and all the chicken noodle soup you want.