The Eagle Has Landed

We're in.

I don't know why I waste time worrying about how everything is going to work out when God brings it together perfectly. The POD was delivered early in the morning and they were able to place it in a great location in the condo parking lot. We closed on time, but I still had to go into work. Fortunately, we were a little slow at work so they sent me home early, in time to get things moved in. Paul and Carol defintely made up for a pregancy constrained Kelly who was able to unload heavy objects. We finished unloading in under two hours. We slept on couches last night and they dropped off our new matress today. And now that we have cable and internet access, what more could we need?

Well, maybe some blinds. But we'll get that taken care of this weekend.

I'm going to get some pictures up as soon as I can. We're city dwellers now.

Like George and Louise

Yep, we're moving on up to the east side. Our deluxe apartment . . . er, 1195 square foot condo- will be ours tomorrow morning at 10am. We did a walk through earlier this evening and, aside from minor spackling and paint touch-ups, it's ready to go.

Tomorrow will be crazy as we need everything to come together perfectly for us to nail this move in. I've got the POD dropped off sometime in the morning, the closing at 10, and I'm supposed to work a few hours tomorrow [despite my asking off in advance], so there's a lot that has to fall into place. We'll see . . .

So no post on Thursday but, hopefully, by Friday night, we'll have internet access at the new Beit Carr. And as always: "Fish don't fry in the kitchen. And beans don't burn on the grill."

The Power of Billboard Advertising

Originally from here, makes me want to Supersize something.

Precious Memories

I feel like a one-track record right now in my blogging. Everything's Panera. Sorry for the monotony. But since I mentioned it, I did have a great day today, as I felt more knowledgeable than ever- even doing OK during the lunch rush. So because of the good day, I feel like I need to talk about something else this afternoon. So here I go . . .

It's been interesting living back in the home in which I grew up. It's actually way better than when I was growing up. Mom and Dad don't even question that there's a girl in bed with me every night. Um, sorry if that last sentence was too graphic for my kin-folk, but it IS pretty cool.

My dad built this house back in 1980. Because it was "homemade" it's always been a work in progress. For instance, this room that I'm in right now [currently serving as the computer room] was mine and my brothers' room for most of my childhood; it wasn't until I was in junior high that dad finished a couple of rooms in the basement for Tim and me. The room next door is now being used as a playroom for all the grandkids, but it used to be Becky's room. We moved into this house just before she was born. I remember when they brought her home from the hospital. And the master bedroom became Tim and mine when my Grandmother remarried; there's an in-laws apartment that my parents moved their bedroom into. We later had to give it up again when my mother's parents moved up here from Maysville.

Even better than the house was all the land. My parents own about seven acres of wooded land with a creek running through the middle of it. Growing up, we explored every inch of this property and some that wasn't ours [one day while playing the woods we encountered a guy carrying a hand gun because he thought we were poaching on his property]. It wasn't until recently that I realized how fortunate we were to be able to live in such a cool place.

Some fascinating memories have drifted into my mind during the past few days here. Today was garbage day, which meant the trash always had to be taken out on Monday night. This was another reason to hate Mondays because the trash was kept behind the house. The house is situated on the side of a hill, so it was a bear drag the garbage all the way around the building. Since then, my dad put a driveway in all the way around the house and they now have garbage cans with wheels, so it's not as bad. I was grinning to myself as I took it to the curb last night.

There's so many other great memories/stories. Here's a topical listing of some of the best. If any look interesting let me know and I'll expound on them:

-The bull in the side yard
-Tim and the drunk guys
-Twenty foot high bonfires
-The clubhouse
-The creek
-Mowing our weird/wacky yard
-Moving the woodpile
-Kittens everywhere
-The death of our neighbors ducks
-Running military exercises in the woods

And that's without even thinking hard about it. I wouldn't trade my childhood here for anything. It's really been fun being home, but I'm ready to leave . . . for the second time.

Slammed

The good news: I'm still alive.

I'm afraid this post might sound like whining so, if it does, my deepest apologies. I was a little hesitant about running headfirst into my first non-trainee week and, apparently, I should have been. "Mondays are slow," was the refrain I heard from everyone at Panera. But as the lunch hour approached the crowd got bigger and bigger. It was absolute lunacy. There were people everywhere. I'm not sure if every other restaurant in the Hyde Park area was closed, but it seemed that way. At the end of my shift, the manager said they've not had a lunch rush this crazy in more than four months.

The toughest thing about being in this situation was my "newbie" status. I love using my hustle to cut down on time and help get things done; today I felt like a gawker at an accident scene who thinks changing out a broken tail light on the demolished automobile will make a difference. Because I only have limited knowledge concerning what to get done, I couldn't swoop in and alleviate the problem. Maybe it would have helped if they had trained me more, but I think I was able to help out here and there. I think I'm on a decent learning curve, but I have to keep figuring out how to do other things so I can be a go-to player.

Just a sidenote, I have to give it up to my manager, Sandi. She's always been very nice to me, and I wondered how she'd react in a high stress situation like today. Sandi didn't stop moving the whole day; she was in before I was and was there when I left. She had to delegate quickly and step in wherever needed, and did it without a negative word to anyone. She's the champ. So far, I think she's happy with my work.

So maybe the real good news is: tomorrow can't get any worse.

Time To Kill

I didn't have to work yesterday; I've finished my training period on Thursday and will begin on Monday morning as an actual employee. And Kelly only had to work half a day yesterday; Standard Publishing decided to reward its employees with a half a day off because they had a good year.

I dropped Kelly off at work in the morning and went to a Panera on Colerain Avenue to spend the time. No, it's not that I'm in love with Panera or anything, but they have the free wireless internet. I have no idea why people enjoy going to Starbucks where you have to pay for the wi-fi when it's free at Panera. Maybe that's what led me to want to work at Panera at the first place. You're free to go in and stay as long as you'd like without anyone hastling you. Anyway, I picked up Kelly around noon. We went to Steak 'N' Shake for lunch and then walked around the Cincinnati Mills mall for awhile. Kelly had an appointment with a dermatologist in Christ Hospital around 2:30, so we headed toward the city.

So I had an hour or so to kill while Kelly was in the doctor's office. I decided to spend my free time by going someplace I always wanted to, but never did: the William Howard Taft birthplace. Right across the street from the hospital is the birthplace of Cincinnati's most famous son [still talking about President Taft here, not this guy]. Taft is the only American to have been both President and Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. Taft's birthplace is a national park, the smallest national park in the United States. Admission is free and they give tours every half hour. It was a little awkward when the tour began and I was the only person on it. So here's this National Park Ranger going through his tour schpeel while I listened to his every word. Yep, awkward . . . but kinda fun. If you're at all interested in American history, I'd visit sometime.

I've loved moments by myself when I've had time to kill. It gives me the opportunity to do things I normally wouldn't do. Like there was one time when I was on a recruiting trip in Louisville and I had a few hours with nothing to do so. I went to Churchill Downs and took a tour of the track. One summer while Kelly and I were dating I drove down to Lexington to visit her. I was running early so I stopped by Cane Ridge to see the place where the Churches of Christ got their start.

Most people fear alone time, but I'd suggest using it to your advantage. Go someplace you normally wouldn't [seeing a movie by yourself is brave, but not good enough]. Go to a museum or a park. See if you learn something new. It's always different when there's no one around.

The house goes global

A couple of blog news items for you this afternoon:

First, the Echo Church website is finally online. Brian Coates designed it for us and I'm really excited about the way it turned out. In addition to this, we started a blog for the church where Aaron and I will post all sorts of things from deep theological thoughts to stuff like this. You can check it out at http://echochurch.blogspot.com/

Second, how crazy is this? I was curious to see who's reading my blog. I get some free stats about who checks it out at a place called Sitemeter. There are over fifty different people a day who have been checking out the junk I write [God bless you, my children], and one of you is from Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. I find this a bit unusual since I've never been there, nor do I think I know anybody from there.

So in an effort to maintain [and possibly increase] my Kuala Lumpurian readership, I posted a picture of the Petronas Towers below. These are the tallest buildings in the world. And yes, they're in downtown Kuala Lumpur. Kuala Lumpurians are welcomed here.

Feeling the flow

Finally, I had a day when I didn't fell like a total schlep. I got into work this morning, got on the register and was able to ring people up all morning. I didn't make any huge mistakes [or at least any that anyone knows about]. I was in the groove, bagging bagels and even making some lattes. I still don't know why anyone pays almost four bucks for a little coffee and some steamed milk. I'd save my money, carry around a canister of whipped cream and add it to my regular coffee. Same effect, cheaper price.

The people I work with are really cool. No one has chastised me yet for doing anything the wrong way [not even for the Day 2 coffee incident]. And all the customers gimme a break when I utter those beautiful words, "Sorry, I'm new here."

But after my morning around coffee and bagels, I must decry bakers from the days of old. I struggled all morning with the baker's dozen, Why did bakers feel the need to be so generous? Do you know how easy it is to mess up math adding to thirteen? I'm not sure anyone knows why they count this way, so it still ticks me off even more.

Besides that, life is good.

Home Bodies

This article in today's Enquirer jumped out at me because we're currently hanging at my parents' place until the condo is done [it's almost there, stopped by to see it this morning and floors, fixtures, and painting is all complete]. There's a trend developing of twenty-somethings moving back in with their parents after college. During the past three years I spent as a college-age minister I witnessed it first hand. There used to be a stigma attached to moving back in with your parents. That viewpoint is quickly evaporating as more parents want their kids to come home again. You have no idea how happy my mother is that we're spending even a couple of weeks here; you'd think she won the lottery.

It'll be interesting to see how this trend plays out in the years to come. In essence, it's a return to the family-centric attitude that's been absent from American society until the past thirty or so years. It seems that this next generation will depend on their family to get them through.

Long Hair, Freaky People Need Not Apply

Saw it here first. I'm still not sure I understand the point of church signs. But a Baptist Church down south is creating some ire with their sign that reads the following:

The Big Easy Is

The Modern Day

Sodom and Gomorrah

Yikes! Great seeker sensative approach there. Watch a local news cast of it here.

How about a cup o' joe?

I busted out of bed this morning at 4:00 so I could make it to Panera in Hyde Park to open by 5:00. I was supposed to come in, read a training manual, and follow someone around all morning. I guess the schedule was messed up because I ended up reading one page and then helping get the store ready to open.

My feelings on the overall second day: I hate being the new guy because a feel like a third wheel. Regardless of how willing I am to work hard, my lack of knowledge prevents me from being too helpful. I look forward to the day I'll know what I need to know to do my job well. Right now, I'm treading water . . . badly.

It was a pretty hectic morning rush, as people come in to get their bagels and coffee before they go to work. I wasn't "certified" on the register yet [although that was the last thing I learned before I left today; doesn't look too hard] so I was just doing little errands here and there. I was pretty much the stock boy. But I was cool with it.

So the one helpful thing I learned to do yesterday was brew the coffee. There are four different brews of coffee that Panera has and they get replaced every two hours to make sure they're fresh. The coffee machine pretty much works like one in your home. Grab an empty carafe [which holds about two gallons of coffee] and fill 'er up. It's not a task that takes too much training, I learned how to do it the first day, so I was ready to rock it. So as I'm finishing getting the coffee ready to brew the telephone rings. I offer to answer it and, before I do, I start the coffee up. It's a woman calling in a lunch order. Halfway through the conversation I hear liquid spilling. It's the coffee, pouring all over the floor. My first mess.

Apparently the last thing they do at the end of the day is fill up the carafes so they can soak up the excess coffee throughout the night. Yesterday, when I learned to brew the coffee, I was never told of this procedure, so the new coffee had no where to go. In my defense, I was ignorant and wouldn't have been able to tell if there were any water in it, but it was a quality first goof. My mistake gave me the opportunity to perform a task that I was "certified" to do: mop.

So two days down and one big mess to show for it. I AM AWESOME. We'll see what a new day brings, but I'm definitely in it to win it.

Purpose Driven Marketing

Rick Warren: Instrument of the Lord or Brilliant Marketer? You be the judge.

Mama, I'm coming home

We packed up the rest of our worldly possessions yesterday afternoon. While my Explorer is being repaired I'm driving a quad-cab Ford F-150 4x4 around; it was great for hauling our stuff. We said good-bye to the Johnson's, becoming "the people downstairs" at the Carr's.

How about this for full circle: I wake up this morning in my parent's house. It's great to know that after getting an education, establishing yourself in a career, and keeping a steady relationship [sorry babe, I know that's a cruddy way to describe seven years of marriage but that's all I've got this morning] that you can end up right back at your parents house. I hope I'm not coming across as bitter because I'm really not; I'm grateful to have family in town where we can stay while we're temporarily displaced.

No, it's not the Hilton like the Johnson house [no pool table or surround sound here] but staying here does have its perks. It's family, so you don't feel like you're imposing by being there; you just walk around like it's your place. My mother feels obligated to make sure there's a constant supply of food available for us. They even have high-speed internet access so I can wake up, check the email and blog a little.

I guess the only drawback is Taylor. This is the dog that my brother Tim bought as a pup, thinking he was so cute. By the time the golden lab grew up he became a beast. Tim gave him to my parents so he could have a place to run around. My dad absolutely loves this dog, to the point that he'll make special trips to restaurants just to by him food. Taylor sleeps in the basement, where our room is. If you wake up in the middle of the night, you're greeted by a huge dog who wants to you to play with him. I do feel bad because the vet thinks the dog has cancer. They're giving him medicines to see if it'll work.

Anyway, I'm working three hours at Panera later this morning. Then tomorrow it's a shift that starts at five in the morning. We'll see if I start missing Monday morning staff meeting anytime soon.

Closing the door

This is the last thing I will ever do on this computer [sidenote: this has been a good computer]. When I'm done with this posting I'll walk out my office and close the door for the last time. Ironically, hanging on the back of my door is a jester's outfit I wore for a seniors banquet they had at church. I'll leave that for whoever gets in here next.

I had a great time last night, leading worship in the service I helped start. It's been awesome to get to lead worship for the past few years with a great band. What will I do without in ear monitors? And I can't believe that Saturdays will be ours again. For the past two and a half years it's been a church day. I don't think that will sink in until next week when we don't have to go. And thanks Kevin, Tim, and John for going out with me to watch Ohio State blow it verses Texas.

This afternoon we're moving in with my parents for a couple of weeks until our condo is finally completed. The good news is that they have high speed internet, so I should be able to keep on posting. But I'm not quite sure how frequently I'll be able to get stuff on the blog. So just be patient and check back here and I'll keep the thoughts flowing.

It's finally finished. I'm ready to go. See ya later.

Makin' Bread

I went to training this morning to my new job with Panera Bread. Educational tidbit #1: Panera is a morphing of the words "pan" [which means "bread"] and "era" [which means "time of"]. So "Panera" literally means "time of bread." Apparently they love their bread at Panera. In addition to trying to turn a profit, I think the company views itself as redeemers of the concept of bread in America. They believe that the mass manufacturing of bread [like Wonder Bread] has done an injustice to the product. So we're all about bread. I can dig it.

Other thoughts:

• There's going to be more to learn at this job than I thought. I'm a pretty quick learner but I think it'll take weeks rather than days to pick up everything.
• When guys ten years younger than me are doing my training, I know I'm ready to be humbled.
• I had to make my name tag today. It was like art class all over again.
• We had to watch these lame films about bread and life; I swear they could've substituted "Jesus" for "bread" and it would've been a sermon.

Honestly, I'm excited about getting started. I only work three hours on Monday, but Tuesday morning my shift starts at 5:00. It's finally starting to become real.

Pretty cool.

Summing up

I'm sure I'll touch on this later in the weekend, but in case I don't get the chance . . .

It still hasn't hit me yet that I'm wrapping up here at Mason. But this is my last official official office day. I'm ready to go: my office is packed up [I'm taking a load of books to the POD this afternoon], and all I really have to do today is my hospital calls. And I have a few thank you notes to write, but that's it. I can't believe that I won't be coming in here anymore. I had a peaceful walk from the UDF to church [the car will be done by Monday, praise God], so I'm prepared for it.

Speaking of my beverage run, I'll admit that it was a bit emotional going into UDF for the last time today. Ralph and Elaine have greeted me most mornings the past three years with some friendly chit-chat. Hopefully I brightened up their day a little as they always did mine. I'll miss going in there.

But thinking back of my time here, I'm amazed at how much I've learned. I feel like a completely different person than when I started. I'm not saying I've arrived, but I've matured immensely at CCM. The blessing of being at a church this size is that I've seen almost everything that you can deal with in ministry; it was like a ten-year experience wrapped up into three. I know that God brought us here to prepare us for our ministry to come. There's no way I was ready to start a new church a couple of years ago; now I'm chomping at the bit.

As I've said before, this is as settled as Kelly and I have ever been. I really thought that Mason would be the place where we spent the rest of our lives. But the task at hand is so great, it's hard to be sad for too long. I'm already getting fired up at the future.

The thing we'll miss the most is the wonderful people. If we could wrap some of them up and take them with us, we would [but I guess that would be like kidnapping, so we better not]. But it's not like we're moving to Nova Scotia; we'll see these people again. I just pray that God allows us to build a community with people like those we've had the opportunity to minister with here at CCM. Mason will always have a special place in our hearts.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Office Space

I have one more day in the office here at CCM. I've boxed up all my books and now will have to decide how to get rid of some of the junk I have no desire to take with me. Throughout this entire "moving on" process I've said it's a happy/sad transition. The emptier my office gets, the sadder it feels. One more Friday to go.

Anyway, I thought I'd take today to lift up my fellow co-workers here at Christ's Church. I've spent the last three years with them and there will certainly be a void in my life when I don't get to see them everyday anymore. I was going to give everyone an individual shout-out, but that would take way too long. So I thought I'd reminisce about some office memories by asking questions. I apologize in advance for revealing too much about life on the inside, but it'll be therapeutic.

• Howard, would it kill you to carry your phone with you so we don't have to listen to your voicemail alert go off for two hours?
• Micah, is the elevator broken?
• Carol, why is the fax machine beeping?
• Mike, do you have a phone call on line one?
• Jessica, whose day is it to pick lunch?
• Tom Moll, how good is our insurance?
• Mary Jane, are you painting another room?
• Minnie, can you help me with this postage machine?
• Cathy, can you tell ____ you don't see me here and send them to my voicemail?
• Max, are there any corrections to the calendar?
• Dave, what is a pastie?
• Art, can you take this guy's offering envelope?
• Drew, what's wrong with me using A-sharp instead of B-flat?
• Sarah, do you work here?
• Lindsay, why can't I get Fiery print?
• Nate, did I give you all my receipts?
• Tom Dorrington, is there a way to get an email back?
• Susan, how do you get candle wax out of the carpet?
• Troy, did the high schoolers keep their clothes on?
• Keith Keeran, where are you?
• Tom Asher, who are you?

You guys have been awesome. You'll definitely be missed. I hope I will too.

My Wife: Amazon Woman

Kelly's new book by Standard Publishing is finally out. I feel bad that it's taken me this long to post about it, but it sorta took backseat to the whole new baby thing. Kelly edited Encounters With God, a compilation of stories by teen authors in addition to interviews with Christian musicians like David Crowder. Kelly was able to interject some of her own stuff throughout the book.

I'm really proud of Kelly for this, perhaps even more proud than if she had written an entire book by herself. Many of the authors in the book were first published in Kelly's Encounter Magazine. For years she's been working with these aspiring writers to get their work seen. So not only is she a writer, but she's developing future writers. That's how you extend your influence into the future. And they've already tabbed her for a sequel!

Here's the cooler part: you can buy her book at Amazon [she's not getting royalties, so this is suggestion offers no financial impact to the House of Carr]. AS you check it out, however, I would encourage you not to click on the Kelly Carr hyperlink on the page or you'll be sent to some books by another Kelly Carr that aren't quite as . . . um, wholesome. No, that's definitely not my Kelly Carr.

Congrats, honey! It's awesome to see the result of your hard work.

Funerals

I co-officiated a funeral with Howard Pauley yesterday. Of all the ministerial tasks, I would say that funerals are definitely the most bizarre. I've only been involved in five or six of them myself, barely enough to be able to form an opinion about [Howard, on the other hand, has officiated a couple hundred of funerals. Of course, he worked in a retirement village]. It's a fascinating experience. By the way, I've been fortunate these past three years to be around Howard and Tom who do amazing funeral services.

As the minister, you're included in a family's most private moment. It's a time when a family is usually totally transparent. They weep openly in front of you. I still haven't figured out all the right words to say. I guess that's how it should be. While it pains me to have to be involved in funerals, it can also be a blessing. It gives you an opportunity for spiritual conversation with people who already thinking about. True, some people shut down during these times, but most people want to talk about what happens to you when you die.

Recently I've been really thinking about funerals. Actually, I've been thinking about those who officiate funerals. If you died today, who would do your funeral? Would it be me or the minister at your home church? Would it be a long time family friend? Fortunately, most of you who read this have a long time before you have to worry about this question. But then fast forward a bit. Say I live another fifty years [shut up, it could happen]. Who does my funeral? Chances are, it's someone I haven't even met yet, or perhaps someone who isn't even born. Crazy, huh?

Like yesterday, this gentleman whose funeral we conducted, I talked to twice. Twice ever. And I was there speaking at his funeral. Some of his family members shared thoughts, but mine and Howards perspectives were based on the last couple years of this guy's life.

I'm not sure I have a point with all this, except that it makes me think about what I'm doing with my life. If I'm going to be eulogized by some shmo who barely knows me, I better get working on some good stuff for him to talk about.

Lack of Direction

Kelly and I really enjoyed our Labor Day weekend. We were incredibly busy, but had plenty of time to enjoy ourselves. Since this is my last week here at Christ's Church I'm starting to reflect a little more on all that's happened during the past few years. It was this reflective mood that allowed me to see a fault in myself this weekend. However badly I want to keep it from you, I believe that the world will be a better place if I just admit it to you all:

I hate to get directions.

So what? "Just a typical male," you mutter to yourself. But it's a real problem with me. God has given me an internal GPS system that allows me to get my bearings better than the average person. Why should I use maps like normal people? But every once in awhile there's some interference with the incoming signal. And when that happens, it can be a problem. Just this weekend I had three different instances in which this flaw of mine reared it's ugly head. Let me list these incidents for you:

Incident One: Friday night. there's a birthday party for my Grandfather at my aunt and uncle's house. They live relatively nearby, so why bother to get directions? I hadn't been to their house in over fifteen years, but I knew the general vicinity of how to get there. Or, at least I thought I did. I found what I thought to be their neighborhood and drove around for about five minutes. Nothing. After backtracking six different times I finally call my brother who informs me that I was about half-a-mile south of where I needed to be.

Incident Two: Saturday morning. there's the Bright, Indiana softball tournament in Harrison, Ohio [doesn't make sense to me to host a softball tournament in an entirely different state, but who am I to question?]. Last year when we went, we took the long way to get to the park. I knew a backroad shortcut, capable of subtracting five minutes from the drive. I was driving separately from the rest of our team in case we went far in the tournament; this way I could get back for church Saturday night [um, I didn't end up needing to drive separate]. Working with my dad's business in high school and college gave me familiarity of the area and knowledge of the shortcut, so why bother to get directions? Of course, there was a thick fog that morning and I totally drove past the street the ballfields were on. I wasn't late but I didn't beat our team there, which meant I heard it from them all morning. I did find the shortcut on the way back though. So suck on that.

Incident Three: Monday afternoon. we're looking for a Cingular Wireless store so we can switch over our cell phones. We've had Nextel, but most of Kelly's family has Cingular, so she [and we] will be able to talk to each other for free. Kelly looked in the phone book for a store and found one in the Union Center area. "Piece of cake," I thought to myself, "Union Center isn't that big so surely we'll be able to find it easily." True, Union Center does straddle both sides of Interstate 75, but it's all new construction, so it should've been simple. After ten minutes of searching we stopped in the Barnes and Noble to look in an atlas [and for a quick bathroom break]. We couldn't find the street on a map. After seven more minutes of meaningless searching I finally broke down. The weekend had gotten the best of me and I did the unthinkable:

I stopped in a gas station to ask directions.

To my credit, the store was two miles away in a place not even considered as Union Center. And the street name that was in the phone book wasn't even there. It was in a strip mall on the corner of a major intersection. But still, I've been defeated. This whole weekend really has me doubting myself. I'm almost depressed.

But then again, just five minutes ago Howard walked in to my office; we're doing a funeral together up in Washington Court House this morning and he said we'll need to get directions to the cemetery. Directions? Ha! Who needs those?