Happy New Year!

One of the benefits of doing my countdown to thirty is that I do not need to do a post about big events of the last decade or even the last year! However I will say happy new year! Here's to 2010!


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My Favorite iPhone Apps

Since getting my iPhone, I have become pretty addicted to the small handheld device that I hear can also be used to talk on the phone (something I rarely do with my iPhone). Here are a list of apps that I would have a hard time living without (unfortunately), and they are all free apps because I am too cheap to buy apps for my phone:

1. Pandora Internet Radio - I love Pandora! You can choose a station based on the artist. It is like having an almost unlimited supply of music on the iPhone. Pandora's controls are like an iPod. You can rate music, so it eventually learns your tastes over time. So far, my favorite station to listen to at work is John Williams (it is awesome to hear the Star Wars music while working). I use it as a radio on road trips and like to listen to the Chris Tomlin and Led Zeppelin stations. During Christmastime this year, I am enjoying the Chris Tomlin (holiday, Motown Christmas, and Mariah Carey (holiday) stations. This is probably my favorite app.

2. Kindle for iPhone - This app allows me to read books in the dark, and therefore, has become one of my absolute favorite apps. There are many classics that are available in the Kindle format for free, so I have only paid for one book on the Kindle app. There is immediate delivery of the book. The books are very readable on the iPhone. I often fall asleep reading books, and Kindle keeps my place. When I travel, I used to pack a bag almost entirely of books. Now I can just use my phone and always have a book to read with me. Already I have over twenty books downloaded and waiting to be read. Also, and this is a huge plus for me since I am always reading more than one book at a time, Kindle keeps your place in each and every book that you have started to read. It is awesome! I think that I might have to consider investing in a real Kindle at some point, but for now I can survive with just the iPhone version. If I do invest in a Kindle, the iPhone and the Kindle will sync to keep my place in my books whether I read them on the iPhone or Kindle. It is a book lover's dream!

3. Audiobooks* - Librivox is a volunteer run group that creates audio recordings of books that are in the public domain. Since almost all classics are now in the public domain, you can get approximately 1,800 audiobooks on your iPhone for free. Some of the quality of the reading is not the greatest, but it is done by volunteers and it is free. If you love classics and are going on a long trip, this app is great for listening to books. I also like to use it at night when I do not feel like reading a book but prefer to listen as I fall asleep.

* This link is not to the official site of the app because I could not find an official site. I suggest using the app store on the iPhone and typing in Audiobooks to find it.

4. Logos - I have the Logos software on my laptop and have found it extremely helpful for indepth Bible study. I was not expecting much when they came out with an app for the iPhone, but I downloaded it anyway and was blown away. It has many different versions of the Bible that I can now access from my iPhone. I can (sort of) do a word study on the go. I have access to the commentaries that are part of my package from my iPhone. I have access to other books that I have as part of my software on my laptop, and just like the Kindle app, it keeps my place in each book I start to read. I use Kindle for my fiction reading and Logos for my theological reading on the go. You can set up a Bible reading plan, compare versions, cross reference, and do a fact check when the preacher references a particular verse or Greek word (one was right, one was wrong) with this handy app.

5. Amazon.com - I use this app for price checking more than I should probably admit, and it is handy for ordering books or gifts. I can search for and order right from my phone even while standing in another store that has the product. It can be a dangerous app since it takes out the waiting period between the store and getting on the computer (since I am apt to forget), but since all that I have ordered from it are someone else's textbooks and gifts that I could wait to arrive, it has been quite handy.

6. DirecTV - I can set my DVR from my iPhone. No other explanation is needed!!!

7. NPR News - I can listen to NPR stations locally and around the country. Some of the most interesting news stories are told on NPR, and you can actually save a playlist of your favorite stories. NPR is becoming one of my favorite apps to listen to in the mornings as I am getting ready.

8. Lightsaber - My iPhone can become a sound effect lightsaber with a tap of the screen. I can even choose background music to go along with my lightsaber swinging. I am hoping that this app will allow me to fulfill my dream of wearing a judge's robe and walking into the courtroom to the Darth Vader theme. Or maybe I just need to invest in a black snuggie and walk around my own home with the lightsaber and background music. Either way, this app is one of my nerdy favorites and I cannot wait until I meet someone else who also has this app and we can engage in a virtual battle of good versus evil (I will even volunteer to be evil since Darth turned good in the very end).

9. BlogPressLite - I love this app for blogging. It is better for posting pictures than using a computer. Seriously. Since I have figured out how to make sure that my photos from my camera are transferred to my iPhone, it is great for blogging where pictures are needed.

10. Betty Crocker Cookbook - If anyone is like me and gets a sudden urge to bake periodically, this is a great app to have handy when you decide that it would be fun to make pumpkin cookies one day or muffins on a whim. You can save your favorites for quick reference. Plus it is easy to search and you can even search by ingredient. It is pretty awesome to have so many recipes at your fingertips!

I also use my iPhone to access all my social networking websites (almost exclusively), but most people with an iPhone probably already know about those, so there is no need to list them here.

Happy Birthday Little Guy!

I cannot believe it has been a year since my little guy was born! I was able to go see him this weekend for his birthday. He is too cute!









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The Tree is Up!

The Christmas tree is up so I have one less thing on my to do list this week!











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What my birthday did to my dog!

Anyone who has met my dog knows how hyper he is. He never sits still. He refuses to lay down to sleep while someone is in the room with him. I have had him 2-1/2 years, and he has never laid down to go to sleep in the living room ... until today! Apparently the constant attention today that my family gave him wore him out!!!









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Countdown to 30: Day 1

Tomorrow I turn 30. Today I am still in my 20s. I am going to write today about one of my best decisions that I made in my first 30 years of life in one of the moments of extreme difficulty.

I got the phone call that Guy had been shot and killed at 5:24 p.m. on August 17, 2008. He had died approximately 30 minutes before I received the call. It is weird how you can remember dates and times like that sometimes. I also remember exactly where I was when he was shot and killed (and what I was thinking/praying about at the time) even though I did not know the shooting was occurring at that time. I remember exactly where I was at when I received the phone call - approximately 1 mile from the Turkey Creek and Meeker exit on I-49. I had just seen the exit sign when my phone rang. I basically had less than a mile to make one of the most important decisions of my life. I had to decide whether to turn around and go straight back.

I was prepared to make the decision. I do not think that I even considered continuing home at that time. I had already been through the hurricane with my kids. I had already missed one funeral. I had spent a week just being a sister to Birdie. Ironically, I had packed extra clothes to last through the weekend just in case - that was my thought as I packed them, although I did not have any clue what the "just in case" would be. There was no question that I was heading right back to New Orleans that night.

Many people have come and gone out of the lives of the kids at the Center. Everyone knows that it happens. The kids have gotten used to it. Although people promise to come back, and even make a few trips, eventually life happens and separates the kids from those whom they love. It seems inevitable. I think that the kids used to worry that I would do the same thing. Sure, I went in 2001 and 2002 and 2003 and 2004, but would I come back after the hurricane? I surprised the kids by remaining faithful to come see them. I had been away for over a year when I went in that week in April, but I also knew as I left that I could not possibly stay away that long again. When Guy's murder happened, I am sure that almost everyone would have understood if I did not turn around. I had to work the next day. It was not safe for me to go back when the boys were being targeted. It hurts too much to continue in this type of ministry. Almost everyone would have understood if I did not go back, and if I did not go to the funeral, and if I cancelled any future trips.

Galatians 6:9-10 says "And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up. So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith." I heard the versions mentioned in a sermon about a week and a half after Guy's death. I realized then that those verses were the reason I turned around that day, even if I was not thinking of those verses. I believe that God has a plan for the kids that I have invested so many years building relationships with. I believe that God has a plan for the Center and for each child that goes through the Center. I believe that I was able to convince more people of my love for them by going back that night. My actions spoke louder than any other words I had spoken to them in the previous seven years to that point. Yes, most of them would have understood if I did not come back, but I would have lost something in my relationships with them. I knew that there was a brother who needed me, but would never call me to let me know. It was up to me to be there because now he knows to call me and tell me he needs me. I would not trade in that type of relationship for anything. There is another boy who is currently sitting in a jail cell. I pray that God will remind him of His love because that boy knows I love him since I came back that night. It is easy to say I love you but harder to prove it. He knows I do, and I pray that it will lead him to God's love someday.

I cannot give up on the kids in New Orleans. God promises that we will reap if we continue to do good. I think that too often, we give up too easily. We want an instant reaping, but like growing a crop, it takes time for the seeds to grow. Weeds spring up fast and die quickly, but the fruit-bearing crop takes time. I do not know what God's plan is for the boys I love. I do know that if I had made the wrong decision that day in that split second when the decision was made that I would have missed out on one of the biggest blessings of my life - sharing in the day of little guy's birth! Ironically, I received the phone call that he had been born as I was less than one mile from the Turkey Creek and Meeker exit on I-49. Plus, his daddy had learned his lesson and called me because he needed me that day so I could share in his joy. I feel like I made a huge decision that day, which is strange because it was made without thinking about the consequences one way or the other. It was made without any thought of my own safety or potential heartache or really without any thoughts of myself at all. I am sure that the decision did not make sense to a lot of people, but often God causes us to make decisions that do not make sense so that He is glorified. I believe that God was glorified more by that decision than any other choice that I have made because His love was on display for all to see - both in New Orleans and outside. I just pray that God will continue to be glorified in my love for my kids and their kids for years to come!

Countdown to 30: Day 2

I am having to learn about forgiveness because of Guy's death. When I arrived back in New Orleans the night it happened, I was informed that one of the suspects was a boy who used to go to the Center. At one time I was very close to this boy and his brothers. Their picture was out for all to see at my house. My photo albums were filled with pictures of this boy. I would consider myself closer to him when he was a kid than to Guy. I did not know that this boy was even back in New Orleans.

It is hard enough to deal with the death of a friend. It is even harder when the death is a murder and the friend is so young. It becomes almost impossible when you are faced with the possibility that someone you know and love could be responsible for the murder of someone else you know and love. I am not even sure that I can begin to put it into words. One thing that I did know was that I would have to forgive this boy even if I never know whether or not he participated in the drive by shooting or took the shot that killed Guy. I do not know if I will ever see the boy again (it has been about three or four years since I have seen him I think), but if I do, I will have to show the love of God to him. Anger and bitterness are not going to do either one of us any good.

I am often in the neighborhood where the boy stays. I admit that I am often looking for him. Part of me wants to see him just to see how I would react. Part of me wants to avoid him. I can look at his pictures now. Maybe that is just a tiny step towards forgiveness. I remind myself that the sin he committed against Guy and Guy's family and friends is so small and insignificant compared to the sin that I commit against a holy and righteous God. It helps to put the sin in perspective that way when working through forgiveness.

Countdown to 30: Day 3

The press coverage following Guy's murder was something that I do not think I was prepared to deal with. On the one hand, I was glad that his murder was being covered because he was a name instead of a number, he had a family, and a community was grieving. On the other hand, it was difficult to read the inaccuracies in the stories, the wrong assumptions, and to see that the police were pursuing the wrong suspect. The continued coverage of his death seemed to make his murder mean something, but it also made it hard to deal with because the story seemed to be everywhere. Some of the facts in the story made it hard to read (such as his arrest for drugs) because although they were true, they made society view him as someone who had it coming to him instead of making society see that there were friends and family members who loved him and were in pain. The arrest of the initial suspect several weeks later meant that the story was in the newspapers again, even though the initial suspect was no longer a suspect in Guy's murder. Later that year came the TV specials on crime in New Orleans and the high school that he attended, and it was like picking at a scar until it bleeds again.

The news coverage following Guy's death has taught me some important lessons. First, do not believe everything that you read in a newspaper. I know that everyone knows that, but people need to be reminded of that when they read about murders and other crimes. Chances are the story is not 100% accurate, so do not convict someone of a crime in your head just because of what a newspaper story says about the crime. Second, even alleged criminals' families grieve when choices that the person makes leads to their death. One of the hardest things to hear was that the city was better off without someone like Guy on the streets. Even if society as a whole has a valid point, that does not bring comfort to the family and friends who miss the side that society did not see. I now read the newspaper stories with sympathy for the families and friends instead of just indifference towards the victim. Third, it is hard to grieve when there is media attention. I only experienced this on a small scale, and of course it was easier being in Texarkana where people did not hear about it unless I told them. I cannot imagine how hard it must be for families of the victims of 9/11 or even the killings that happened in Ft. Hood last week. I know that it was hard for me because I wanted to read and watch and see all of the media accounts, but it was painful to read and watch and see. I do not know if it is easier to deal with death privately, or if it is just the nature of Guy's death that has made everything so difficult. Finally, there are just some things that cannot be conveyed by the media. People may get a glimpse of what the family is going through, but they really have no idea.

Countdown to 30: Day 4

Sometimes God prepares us for what is about to happen. It may not take the shock completely away, but it still may help. This is one of the toughest, yet most comforting lessons I have learned in my first 30 years.

In April 2008, I made my first trip to New Orleans in over a year. I went primarily to see Birdie, but I was happy to see everyone. One Tuesday which was usually boy's night, I was catching up with Malcolm when Guy called Malcolm to give him a ride home. I said they could use my car, but I was riding along too. When we picked Guy up, I said, and not jokingly, that he was acting as if someone was going to shoot at him while walking up to my car. Unnerving to say the least. When we dropped him off, he thanked me, and I told him he was welcome to a ride anytime. He said, "no, thank you for everything." I remember telling Jennifer that he acted like he was about to die. It bothered me.

The next day was Guy's birthday and he stopped by the Center. I wasn't used to him stopping by just to hang out, but he stayed talking with me and some others for around an hour. Again I could not help but think he was acting like someone who thought he was about to die. I also felt like he had just seen his last birthday. That day was one of the best days I have had in New Orleans since the hurricane, and I am glad God gave me that day.

I was leaving to go home on April 17. Birdie needed a ride so I dropped him off at a friend's house right before I was to leave. Guy was there. Guy told me bye. Guy never said goodbye - ever. I could not bring myself to tell him bye because there was an overwhelming feeling that this was the last time I would see him alive. I even told Jennifer that I was afraid the next time I would come in would be for his funeral. I even told Birdie I was worried about Guy. I started home about 2. Guy was shot and killed around 5. I received the phone call at 5:24.

Although there was plenty of shock, I believe that God was preparing us for what was about to happen. It did not make the hurt less although it may have made the hurt bearable. There was comfort in knowing that God sometimes gives us warnings so that we can bear what is coming. I as the outsider coming in noticed the way Guy was acting more than those close to him probably would have. I am just glad I had time with Guy that week and with everyone else.


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Countdown to 30: Day 5

From August 2007 until October 2008, it seems that my life was filled with dealing with death. I went to just a few less funerals during that time than I had been to in my whole life up to that point. However, when you are faced with death, you learn quite a bit about life.

In August 2007, my second mother died. Ms. Brenda had been my second mother from before I was born. She was a constant in my life. When it would storm when we were kids, we would head to Ms. Brenda's house. Many days were spent watching her son and my dad play video games. She was always at our birthday parties, and always "lost" our Christmas presents. When we moved to Ft. Worth, it was always her house that we returned to when we came home to Texarkana. Although she did not come to my high school graduation, she was there for college and law school graduation and watched me get my law license in Austin. She kept Texarkana people updated on my progress and kept my family informed of all of the Wake Village news.

During the summer of 2007, Ms. Brenda went to Houston to see family she had not seen in years. She went to see her daughter, which was usually reserved for Thanksgiving and Christmas. She stopped by my parents house on her way back. My mom came in the weekend of her birthday. Many of the babies that she had brought up in the nursery came in to visit that summer and saw her. She worked the church directory photo night on Monday and saw many friends. I had lunch with her on Tuesday. On Thursday I had a phone call that she had died suddenly. Even though it was tough to deal with, I immediately saw God's grace in her death. She had been able to tell many people that she cared about and did not see often goodbye. She died suddenly instead of after a long illness, and had been doing what she loved right before she died - taking care of a baby.

Ms. Brenda was a staple in the nursery at First Baptist Church Wake Village, where I was enrolled on the cradle roll. For 30+ years she was faithful to sit in her rocking chair and take care of babies. She was overjoyed to be caring for the babies of babies she had when she first started working in the nursery. For 30+ years the church did not have to worry about who would work with the babies in the nursery because there was never a question. It would be Ms. Brenda. She did not stop caring for the babies once they were no longer babies though. She always wanted to know what was going with her babies, and she was always overjoyed if one of her babies returned to Texarkana as an adult. Anyone with big news was expected to stop by the nursery and inform Ms. Brenda!

There is something really beautiful about a servant of God dying. After years of serving, Ms. Brenda entered into the rest of God. She was able to see the face of the One whose love she had been showing for so many years. Although she is missed terribly, especially in the preschool building, there is the hope of seeing her again along with many other faithful servants who have gone on to eternal rest. After seeing Jesus in the faces of many babies, she is seeing Him face to face. Because of that, there is reason to rejoice!

Countdown to 30: Day 6

My milestone for today is a rite of passage for lawyers - the first jury trial! It is another topic that I have covered as extensively as I should, so it is another link day. Looking back on the first jury trial now, I still cannot believe that I have conducted a trial from start to finish. I pretty much ran the entire case from start to finish, so even on short notice, I could do the trial by myself. I think that it was a good thing that I did not have much time to get worked up over it, and it is a pretty good feeling to wake up the next morning and realize it is over. That night I think I was still in a little bit of shell shock. It is also comforting to know that my Baylor education did not go to waste and I was able to prepare for trial on short notice.

Countdown to 30: Day 7

Last year was all about life and death for me, and the happiest day of the year was definitely when Verchaun Guy was born. He is my little guy! Since I already covered his birth, I am reposting the event for one of my favorite memories in my first thirty years of life. You can find the story here.

Countdown to 30: Day 8

I have been going to Carver Baptist Center in New Orleans for eight years, and, as anyone who has known me for any length of time or has been to my office to see the pictures everywhere (or has read this series), there is a particular relationship that has meant more to me than probably any other friendship in my life. Of course I am talking about my boy, Birdie.

The funny thing about Birdie is that I do not remember meeting him. I am not even sure that he remembers meeting me. I do know that the second spring break that our college group went to the Center in 2002, he and his cousin were locked out of the house accidentally and were asleep on one of the couches downstairs when we arrived. I do not remember that, but he does. I even have a picture or two from that trip where you can see him in the background, but I do not think that I talked to him or knew who he was at that point. When I went back that summer for the month of July, we started getting close. In fact it was nothing unusual for me to have Birdie, Malcolm and Fred with me going everywhere. Plus Birdie was responsible for watching his nephew Coy who was almost two at the time, which meant that I watched Coy while Birdie played basketball.

We really started to click in 2003. Birdie got himself into some minor trouble while on an outing with the missionary at the Center. I noticed tension between the two, so I put extra effort that week into spending time with Birdie. He went everywhere with me (except the beach - he was temporarily banned from Center activities), and I played basketball with him for hours (resulting in a purple - yes purple - sunburn that made him concerned enough to stop the game and make me go inside to cool off and down a ton of water). I literally tortured him to make him tell me what he had done to get into trouble. I think I may have locked him in a room (favorite tactic of mine with the kids) and grilled him continuously for half a day before he revealed what he had done. Instead of instantly lecturing him, I acted completely out of character and told him I was proud of him for telling me himself instead of waiting until someone else told me. The lecture came later in the form of a very long letter that I sent to him and that he actually read and remembers to this day. From that point forward, there was no way to convince either one of us that we were not brother and sister, although he still didn't like for me to hug him in front of friends.

The dislike of public hugging went out the window in 2005 with Katrina hitting. As soon as I saw him the first time after Katrina, I received one of the biggest hugs, and in front of his whole family, that I think I have ever received from Birdie. Katrina is also when his mother started claiming me as her other daughter and his siblings started calling me their white sister. I became part of the extended family during that time, and I think that quite a few members of his extended family still claim me today. Our relationship had a strange period during 2006 and 2007 because I knew he was doing things he should not be doing, but I was still loving on my little brother. Plus he was arrested, and I had to lecture him. I lectured him on the phone. I lectured him in person. I lectured him over the phone some more. He did not seem to be listening, and I was frustrated. 2007 ended up being a year when I could only make one trip to New Orleans in the spring, and I actually went over a year without seeing him. I am not sure how I ever survived that long!

In January 2008, one of Birdie's good friends was shot and killed. Fortunately Birdie was not at the scene that night, although I do not think that he sees it that way. When I found out about it, I procrastinated in calling Birdie because I did not know how to deal with things like that over the phone, and I knew I could not make it down there to see him in person to go to the funeral. On the morning of the funeral, I sent him a text message to let him know I was thinking about him (cowardly, I know!), and soon my phone was ringing. It was so good to hear his voice on the other end, but I was glad I did not contact him earlier or my butt would have been driving to New Orleans! I had no idea that I would have my chance to be there for him after the death of a friend just a few months later. All I knew as I hung up is that I loved that kid and I had to see him soon.

Soon did not come soon enough. New Orleans has this cool website where you can follow court dates of those awaiting trial, and I knew he had a trial date coming up. I knew I wanted to be there for him for his trial date, so I kept up with it. It kept getting pushed, but finally a date was set for April 15. I called his sister (because he did not return my call) to find out if it was set to go, and I found out that his family knew nothing about the date coming up. Nice. Soon he was on the phone with me telling me that I did not have to come, but I had to be there. I got in on the Monday night before his trial on Tuesday. I went to see him not long after getting in and seeing him that night I knew that I could not go a year without seeing him again. The trial date was continued (of course!), but I met his lawyer and we exchanged contact information so that the trial could be scheduled at a time I could go. I spent the rest of my time in New Orleans hanging out with him and the other kids. Birdie and I had many good conversations that week, and I was able to leave him on Thursday knowing I would see him in a month.

The call came as I was about halfway home that Thursday. Guy had been shot and killed. I had seen him about three hours before the call when I was saying bye to Birdie. Without being told, I knew Birdie had been there this time. I sent him a text to let him know I was on my way back, but I could not call him. He would not want to talk at that point anyway. I spent quite a bit of time with him the next few days, although it was not enough for me. I do not think our friendship would have been the same if I did not turn back that day. However, that is a story for another day.

I did go in for the trial. I also went in for the birth of his baby boy. I went in a few weeks before the birth of the baby so that he could have one last weekend all about him instead of the baby. I used to kid him that the baby would replace him as my boy once the baby was born, but instead it has made us closer. I love my little guy, but his daddy still has that special place in my heart! Birdie loves to watch me spoil little guy, and I love to watch him being a daddy. We have talked about the gospel many times, and I am convinced of Birdie's salvation even though he struggles with some serious sins. My friendship with Birdie has taught us both about Prov. 17:17: A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity. We have been there for each other during the death of a friend and the aftermath of Katrina. He has been there for me when I almost passed out in a hospital. I have been there for him during a trial and the birth of his child. We both have loved unconditionally. It is a friendship that will continue throughout eternity, but is a little piece of heaven on earth. I love my baby brother!

Countdown to 30: Day 9

(Hurricane Katrina cont.) Today will be the last day I post on Katrina even though there is so much more I could share, such as the trips to the 9th Ward, trips to Houston, trips to Nachitoches, trips to Ruston, rumors of people dying while later being able to rejoice because they were alive, etc. I have not even scratched the surface! My last two stories involve the same family, and are further examples of how God put me in the right place at the right time.

Several weeks after Katrina hit and after my house was empty again and I was getting settled, I got a phone call from one of the kids letting me know that one of our college age girls had been in a serious car accident. One of the passengers (a girl I did not know) was thrown out of the car and killed, and the girl I did know who also had been driving the car was on a ventilator in pediatric ICU. She was in critical condition but things were looking promising for her. They did not expect her to live through the first few nights, but by the time I got the phone call she was progressing. I asked where she was in the hospital, secretly hoping that it was far enough away that I would not need to go while at the same time hoping it was close enough I could go to see the family. My fear of hospitals created the strange desire to go but not to go. Turns out she was in the hospital in Shreveport, which is a little over an hour away from Texarkana.

I got in contact with the family and let them know I would be there on Saturday. I was secretly relieved to find out the girl was still in PICU because I knew that meant I would not have to go to her room and see her in the worst condition. I met her mother in the lobby and was casually chatting with her as we went upstairs to the PICU waiting room. Next thing I knew, we were standing beside her bed and there she was, ventilator and all. Needless to say, I was a bit freaked out. I froze. I plastered myself against a nearby wall and refused to say anything. Her whole family was laughing at my reaction. The nurse asked my relation to her, and her mom answered, "She is our cousin, can't you see the family resemblance?!?!" I have since learned that the easiest way for a non-family member to get in to see someone when visiting is for family only is to be a white person visiting an African-American patient. After being in a coma for a week and a day, the girl started waking up. Just a few weeks later, she was home (well, at their temporary home in Ruston). God had placed the family and me in the exact places that we needed to be for me to be able to minister to the family during that time. I am now an honorary member of the family, and do not try convincing any of them otherwise!

In spring of 2006, my church was able to go down and gut the home of the same family. I cannot describe the amount of hard work that is involved in gutting a house. To give a bit of perspective, you have to wear a hazmat suit and goggles and a mask. There is no ventilation in a hazmat suit. I drank at least two bottles of water every 45 minutes, and I did not go to the bathroom all day. The first step is taking everything the family owns and putting it out on the curb for a trash truck to come by and pick it up. Then you start to rip out the plaster and slats that are damp and moldy and mildewy. It is hard work. There are all sorts of four, six, and eight legged critters that come out of the wall when you start ripping it out. Now that I know how much work it involves, and am not sure that I could ever do it again. But I probably would. Gutting homes is an important ministry in a situation like the aftermath of Katrina. Workers were charging thousands (because it is a lot of work), but that would leave families with no money to start rebuilding. It was too emotional of a task for the homeowner to do it. Plus, many homeowners such as the family we helped were stuck in the situation where they were paying rent on an apartment and a mortgage on a house, meaning they had to pick up extra shifts of work whenever possible, leaving little time to work on the house. The family is a family of believers, so it was a small way for believers to help fellow believers. Plus, one of the members of our team was able to share the gospel with a man on the street walking by, and that man then went forward for baptism that Sunday at the church that I took the group to. God has a way of putting us in the right place at the right time!

Countdown to 30: Day 10

(Hurricane Katrina cont.) God put me in the right place at the right time with the right possession during the aftermath of the hurricane. Today I will share two stories that show that and tomorrow at least one more.

After the hurricane hit, people were scattered all over the place and it was difficult to locate them. One of the families that we knew lived in an area that flooded was not showing up on any of the registries, and we just thought we might not hear from them ever again. There was no way of knowing if they were rescued. The mother has mental issues, and me and one of the other missionaries were very attached to the children. We did know that they had not evacuated prior to the storm. They were just an unknown. On the Wednesday a week and a half after Katrina hit, I was getting ready for work as usual and decided to open up the newspaper to read while blowdrying my hair. Soon I was screaming in excitement with Ms. Brenda running down the hall to see what was going on. I was so excited I could not put sentences together. Right there on the front of the Texarkana Gazette was a picture of this family that we were particularly concerned about - they were in a shelter in Texarkana. The story was there for everyone to read - the family was rescued by boat, split into three groups for buses after being told that the buses were all headed to the same place, mom and one son went to Shreveport, a son and a daughter ended up in Tyler, and a third son ended up in Houston (he was 13 I believe at the time). Mom was transported to Texarkana because of health concerns, the two in Tyler were transported to Texarkana to be reunited with her, and the third son, after an almost week long search, was flown to Texarkana to be reunited with the family. The family had no idea I was in Texarkana since I had just moved there, so it was a complete shock to them when I walked into the shelter that night after work!

A single mother and her son were staying with family in Houston. Not too long after Katrina hit, Rita threatened to hit the Gulf Coast near Houston. This mother did not want to go through another hurricane, and called to see if she and her son could live with me. I had an extra bedroom and an extra bed, so why not?!?! I really did not know her very well at the time. Her brother is my little brother, Birdie, and her son has always been my spoiled little boy. We had hung out in Houston right after the hurricane because I could not wait to get down to see Birdie. With about 30 minutes preparation, I was in my car headed down to Houston to pick up this mother and her son to live with me. At the time I did not know how long they would live with me, but for some reason that did not seem to matter. We loaded up all of her possessions (which fit in a tupperware tub) and headed back to Texarkana. She and her son lived with me for almost two weeks. It was not until after they had moved out that I began to realize how crazy it might have been to let an almost stranger move into my house with her son. However, I believe that God teaches us to house those who need it and to share our possessions with those in need. My motivation was love - love for her son, love for her brother, love for her, and love for God. I learned a little bit about biblical hospitality during that time. The aftermath of Katrina is at least one time in my life that I can point to where my actions did not make sense to the world - and hopefully portrayed the love of God.

Countdown to 30: Day 11

(Hurricane Katrina cont.) At some point I remember getting a call from Keayea, Birdie's sister. They were in Houston after getting out of New Orleans and driving two days. I remember listening. I listened a lot on the phone during that time. I do not remember everything that she was telling me, and got the story quite confused as I tried to tell it to others, but all I knew is they were safe. I couldn't believe it though until I talked to Birdie. I had to talk to him. It was bothering me that I had not talked to him since before the storm, but I was able to talk to him that night.

I had daily phone calls with the missionary at the Center who had evacuated to her parents' home in Kentucky. We would update each other on who we had heard from. We figured out that text messages were going through on 504 numbers whereas phone calls were not as reliable. I was not a texter at that time. I would call the one family that remained in the neighborhood daily to find out if they had received any assistance (and to make sure they had put an axe in the attic just in case). At some point, they stopped answering their phone.

I pretty much started living on autopilot. I had many conversations with people that consisted of where are you at, what is your phone number there, and then listening as they complained about shelters, lack of assistance, lack of money, etc. Everyone was grieving, including me, because the one thing that we all knew for sure is that nothing would ever be normal again. The way of life prior to the storm was gone.

There are many stories of God's provision, a few of which I will share in the coming days. One of those stories involves a family who called me from Baton Rouge. They had no gas left (at least not to go much further than Baton Rouge), it was hard to find gas. They did not have a place to stay because the family member they thought they could stay with had a houseful already. The only thing they knew to do was call me, and I had no way to help them. After getting off the phone with them, I checked my e-mail, and there was an e-mail from a college friend whose family lived in Baton Rouge and wanted to help if I knew of anyone needing help. Several frustrating phone calls later as I tried to direct the two families to a meeting spot, this family of a college friend was able to provide some immediate assistance to this family from New Orleans. It is awesome still to think how God worked that out.

Countdown to 30: Day 12

(Hurricane Katrina cont.) On Monday around noon, I started dialing the phone. Suprisingly, after about an hour, I was able to reach someone at one of the homes. Within two hours, I had made contact with those in the homes near the Center that I had numbers for. There was wind damage, including a tree that had fallen in on one of the homes. There was no electricity, which was to be expected since the wires are above ground in that part of town. Everything else seemed to be alright. I made sure that each home had my cell phone number, and I let them know that cell phones with New Orleans numbers were not working except to call out so they needed to check in with me.

As the afternoon wore on, it became apparent that the city was flooding very rapidly. The people in the neighborhood had no way to watch the flooding on TV. My new mission was to inform each of the homes that they needed to find a way out of the city because the flooding was quickly approaching their part of town. Landlines stopped working because most of the phones were handhelds and only lasted as long as the charge. One home in the neighborhood had an old phone that did not plug into an electrical outlet, and I could still contact them. I just had to hope, pray, and wait to hear from the other families. Rumors were running rampant. Looting was occuring. It was a mess!

On Tuesday, there was only one family in the neighborhood that I could reach. The water was still rising and they were starting to panic a little. They did not want to leave their house because they were supposed to be getting kicked out by the owner soon and did not want to risk losing everything. They had stories of others leaving or rumored to leave. I watched coverage on TV all day long (and was really tired of seeing this one guy that they showed over and over and over and over loading the same ice chest into the back of his car). I actually saw the rescue of one family that we knew on TV, but they kept showing the guy loading his ice chest instead of showing the clip again. I watched for hours trying to see the clip again. I also watched to see who else I would know rescued. It was tough!

Countdown to 30: Day 13

Hurricane Katrina is the natural disaster that has affected me the most in my life to this point. There is no way that I can fit all of Katrina in a single post, so it will probably take me several.

At the end of August 2005, I was excited because I finally had a job and I was moving to the place I love - Texarkana! I bought a new car to start building the necessary credit to own a home and to have a more up-to-date car. I was staying with Ms. Brenda because I had signed a lease on an apartment, but it was not ready yet. I was preparing to start the new job the first of September. I knew that there was a storm brewing in the Gulf that had the potential of hitting New Orleans, and it looked like a big one.

On Saturday, I could not help but watch the weather coverage off and on. The most encouraging thing seemed to be that the governor of Louisiana was saying that it looked like there would not be a need to evacuate. Whew! It can't be that bad if there is no need for evacuation, right? When I woke up the next morning, the whole story had changed. Category 5. Headed straight to New Orleans. Evacuate now. It seemed as if things had changed overnight. Fortunately, I was staying with Ms. Brenda. Ms. Brenda worked for years with the Red Cross. She was able to provide me with a ton of advice that helped with communication over the next few days. She adviced me to obtain several contact numbers for anyone I talked with, to keep a notepad with the numbers handy anytime I talked to anyone, and to keep trying numbers until there was a response. On Sunday I started calling everyone I had numbers for and writing down every number anyone would give me.

On Sunday night I could only wait to see if the worst would happen. I did not sleep much as I watched the storm get closer and closer to New Orleans. At some point on Monday it was mostly passed and the worse was over. The eye hit Mississippi instead of New Orleans, and New Orleans was fortunate enough to get the west side of the storm. At least those were all thoughts I had on Monday.

Countdown to 30: Day 14

Since it is a football day and since I am such a big fan of football, today seems like a good day to share my favorite football memory.

While attending Baylor, I was faithful to attend all home games while in undergrad. Every year the big game was against A&M. One year it was rainy and Baylor was getting killed so I left early. I never left football games early! I even made it a point to go to the game at College Station. Law school changed my faithfulness to games, but I still tried to go to that game each year.

Baylor was on quite a losing streak against A&M. It had been almost twenty years since Baylor had won. We got close in College Station one year an lost in the last few minutes. My last year of law school the game was in Waco. Baylor's team was terrible. A&M had a decent team. One of the biggest finals of my law school career was going to occur the Monday after the game. Common sense told me to skip the game.

I have not always been one to follow common sense. I chose to go to the game. I knew I would regret it for the rest of my life if Baylor happened to win. We stood in our normal seats. I intended to leave if the game got out of hand. However at halftime it was close. At the end of the third quarter it was close. At the end of the game it was tied. So much for leaving early to study! A&M had the ball first in overtime and scored a touchdown. The pressure was on. Then Baylor scored a touchdown and needed the extra point to send it to double overtime. "They are going for 2." I said it even before the offense returned to the field. It was going to be either the worst decision of the year or the best. Given that I had sat through the UNLV disaster a few years prior where we fumbled instead of taking a knee and they returned it for the game winning touchdown, I felt sure we would endure another heartbreak. The ball was snapped, the pass was in the air, it looked like it was caught, the ref signaled it was good, and chaos broke out in the stands. The chaos continued. It was awesome! Baylor had finally beaten the Aggies and I had been brave enough not to skip it to study.

I ended up not doing as well on my final as I should have. However there are something that are worth trading. It was a good lesson to learn as I now have to remind myself life is not all about work. I still have my Gig This shirt too!

Countdown to 30: Day 15

Anyone who has known me for the majority of my life knows that early on I decided I wanted to be a lawyer, and after that I decided I wanted to attend Baylor Law School. I knew that Baylor produced good lawyers. Once I was in Waco, I realized that Baylor Law led the pass results on the bar exam almost every sitting. It was clear that if I wanted pretty much a guaranteed pass on the first try, I should go to Baylor. I also learned while in undergrad that Baylor was a tough school. At some point during my undergrad years, Baylor was touted as the "Marine Corp of law schools" by the law school ranking people. I knew that it was going to be tough to get into and tough to get out. Baylor was in the process of building a new law school building, and I knew that I would be one of the first classes to attend in the new building.

I do not think that I understood how hard it would be to get into Baylor until I had already been accepted. I only applied to two law school - Baylor and the University of Texas. I did not realize that both schools are very difficult to be accepted. I knew that I had the GPA to be considered for Baylor (had no clue what the UT GPA was) and I only studied hard enough for the LSAT to obtain the average score at Baylor. I did not take review courses or hundreds of practice tests. The day of the LSAT, the room was changed at the last minute at the location I had selected, I had to drive accross that school's campus, the cafeteria where the test was administered did not have air conditioning (it was June in TX - not good!), and the air conditioning repair people were banging away at the unit trying to get it working throughout the entire test. Obviously, the testing conditions were not ideal, and I probably should have selected the retake option but you had to forfeit your score before you got it back, and I did not want to take that chance. By the grace of God, I scored high enough that the score would suffice.

I was accepted to UT first, and I received a scholarship. At the time I did not realize how big a deal that was. Apparently UT is stingy with scholarships, and I was lucky to be awarded one. I had my eyes set on Baylor though and waited to receive the notice from Baylor. One day before going to one of the Baylor basketball games, there it was - the packet instead of a single envelope. Without opening it I knew I was in. I had a scholarship for half of the tuition, and I did not have to move. It was a win-win for me. I signed three years of my life away as I informed Baylor I would be attending in Fall 2002.

My years in Baylor Law School were some of the hardest of my life. The competition was rigorous, made worse by the fact that I knew I had to maintain a decent GPA just to keep my scholarship. There was not much free time or down time. I went to class, went home to study, went to church, and, if I was lucky, ventured out to watch a football game on Saturdays. I did schedule some fun weekends and short spring break trips, but even holidays with my family were cut short so I could study. Then came practice court. There are no words to describe the six months of practice court where you are stressed out, your stomach is in knots, you realize you really could fail and not become a lawyer, and there are not enough hours in a day to ever get done what is assigned. Law school made the bar exam and bar review seem easy. Seriously. Come bar exam time, I had free time because I only studied eight hours a day instead of sixteen to twenty spent doing law school. No wonder Baylor has a high pass rate!

God placed me at Baylor Law School. Looking back I did not really think my decision through. I had no idea that there were over two thousand applicants, but only 100-150 accepted per quarter. Those are not very good odds! I was able to pass the bar exam on the first try. I was able to land a job after the bar. I was able to practice and represent clients in the courtroom early on because I was used to it. Most importantly, I was able to do my first jury trial solo on short notice (less than 24 hours) with a successful result for the client.

Countdown to 30: Day 16

I have been listening to sermons my entire life (even in utero), but there is one sermon that sticks out as the most important sermon that I ever listened to. Today I want to share it as part of my countdown series.

The sermon was suggested by our youth minister at the time. It was back when I had bought or received as a gift my first mp3 player, but prior to the iPod days. I listened to the sermon for the first time in February 2006. I had been dealing with Hurricane Katrina for quite a while by then. Someone I knew had been murdered, and it was the first person I knew that was murdered that I can remember. It was a difficult time, but a great time for me sorting out what I believed about God and His plan. These were events that were difficulty brought on by something other than my own sin, so I needed to figure out how to deal with everything in a biblically correct way.

The name of the sermon is A Beliver's Response to Difficulty and it was preached by Dr. Rick Holland. I know nothing else about the person who gave this sermon. The focus scripture is Lamentations. Some things that stick out about the sermon even more than three years later are the truths about how God is never surprised by natural disasters or tragedies in our lives because He is sovereign. The believer's appropriate response is grief and rejoicing; sorrow and praising God. The sermon ends with a letter that a man who was to be executed for his faith wrote to his wife reminding her that his death was God's will and God's plan and that believers should be full of grace and courage in the midst of difficulty. I highly recommend listening to this sermon. Different sermons mean different things to different people depending on what they are going through at that time of their life. I am glad that I listened to this one when I needed to hear it most.

Link to download the sermon

If the link does not work, you can go here, chose the year 2006 and the category Lamentations.

Countdown to 30: Day 17

One of my favorite memories as a kid was the night that the church fellowship hall burned down. I know that it seems odd to refer to that night as a favorite memory. However, for a five or six year old child, it was quite an exciting event.

We were sitting at our house when Ms. Brenda drove up in a panic. "The church is on fire! The church is on fire!" For a kid, it is exciting to watch anything burn. We jumped in the car and drove over to Ms. Brenda's house to watch the church burn because she lived right behind the church. In fact we had the perfect view of the fire from her front window and front porch because she lived right behind the fellowship hall.

People from the church started arriving to watch the scene. There was smoke everywhere. Even more fun for a kid was all of the fire trucks and firemen that responded. There were sirens and trucks and lights and ladders and hoses and water everywhere while the building was burning. Dad went over to help move the piano out of the sanctuary with the other men of the church. I still to this day do not know why they wouldn't just collect the insurance money and replace it with a better piano, but I guess it is hard to think rationally when the church is on fire.

At one point they were worried that the fire would spread to the nursery area and the sanctuary. The roof was being soaked with water to prevent the spread. We moved down to the youth minister's house to watch the rest of the commotion at some point. They have a son that was around the same age as me and my brother, so the three of us and any other kids that came up were playing out in their backyard. It was still close enough to see what all was going on, but far enough away that the smoke smell was not overwhelming. I remember us catching "fireflies" that night, but we did not understand why the fireflies didn't light up again. I suspect that we were really catching ashes!

My parents still have a Bible that survived the fire. Everything around the Bible was burned up and melted. However, the Bible just had some soot on it from the smoke damage. The brand of Bible - Fireside! Awesome!

Countdown to 30: Day 18

Today I thought I would share a memory that has sustained me through some difficult times. When you work with children in the inner city, it is pretty much inevitable that one of the children you are working with will be shot and killed. I am now up to three kids that have been killed by violence and two or three(that I know of - I am sure there are more that have been grazed) that have been shot but survived. I also knew one of the parents of the children that was shot and killed in a shot meant for the son. It is a rough world for these kids.

One of my favorite memories of New Orleans is the Chasing Rabbits memory. Since I have already blogged about it in full, I thought today I would just link to my highlight for today. Days such as the day that we chased rabbits allow me to remember that these teenagers and adults were once children who acted like children and loved like children and played like children. Remembering those days reminds me to love them now and pray for them. Since this memory includes two boys who have been shot and killed, it is one of the sweetest memories of them for me. Enjoy my adventure chasing rabbits in inner city New Orleans!

Countdown to 30: Day 19

I will never forget the first time I saw someone I know arrested. It was a strange day. I was in New Orleans for the summer in 2004. New Orleans was experiencing a spike in violent crime that summer. The decision was made to have state police officers join city police officers on patrol.

It was a Wednesday night, and, as usual, I was hanging out with the kids outside the Center. There was a huge crowd outside that night. I was enjoying the time with the kids. Guy and Marquis had been around but they left when they saw a police car go by. I asked why, and one of the kids informed me that the police were looking for two boys who stole a bike, and it was Guy and Marquis that stole the bike. Soon Kenny who is Marquis’ cousin and Geoffrey who is Guy’s brother came up on a bike and started working on the bike. Everything was normal for a Wednesday night and nothing seemed to be out of place.

I saw a cop car driving the wrong way up the one way street in front of the Center. I found it odd, and even remember making a statement about how odd it was. When I said it, some of the older boys started to scatter. Soon we were surrounded by four cop cars with two to three officers each and a police helicopter circling overhead. It was unreal. The cops surround Kenny and Geoffrey and started questioning them about the bike. I was in law school at the time (and even wearing my Baylor Law shirt), so Geoffrey kept looking over at me and I would shake my head yes if it was a question he should answer or no if it was one he should not answer. Obviously this frustrated the cops.

At some point I remembered that Kenny’s grandmother was inside the Center attending Bible study, and I ran inside the Center. As I heard the cops saying something to me as I ran in, I realized that maybe it was not the best decision for me to run inside like that. However, I was able to get Kenny’s grandmother outside to start handling the situation. I also remember everyone talking about calling Geoffrey’s mom so that she could come down and deal with the situation for Geoffrey.

While all of this was going on, the officers started walking around the crowd of people. One of the older guys was so high that he had the attachment for a blunt still in his mouth. The police arrested him for having drug paraphernalia. It was really odd to see someone I knew being arrested. The first feeling was a feeling of distrust for the officers. I was surprised by that feeling, but it probably came, in part, because of the apparent overreaction by the cops. It turns out that the cops were looking for the boys who had stolen a bike not far from the Center. Problem is that they had the wrong boys. Another problem is that four police cars and a helicopter seemed very excessive for bike thieves. Even worse, the whole event made the news that night.

As a result of being present at the arrest and due to the entire event, I came to distrust officers. I now understand why there is such a distrust of law enforcement in the inner city. There was something that made me feel less safe that night because of the presence of the officers. I am sure that the police department would say that the size of the crowd caused them to be concerned for their own safety, but they were looking for two boys who stole a bike. Even now, I have to remind myself that law enforcement is there for the protection of the public. I have to remind myself to trust law enforcement. It is a strange change that came over me that day, and it was a change I was not expecting or prepared for. I can understand how my friends in New Orleans do not trust the police department, even if most officers are good cops. The officers had no idea how much harm their decisions would make when they acted that night. It is possible that even without the overreaction I would have had the same distrust just because someone I knew was arrested (even though I knew he was guilty of the offense). What I do know is that I still struggle with trusting any law enforcement, and I constantly have to remind myself that police officers are there for the public’s safety.

Countdown to 30: Day 20

Since I talked about 9/11 yesterday, I figured I should go ahead and talk about another national tragedy that made an imprint. I believe that I was in kindergarten when the Challenger blew up. For me as a little kid, it seemed like a normal day until our teacher was upset and we were watching TV reports about the space shuttle blowing up. I remember that we had talked about the Challenger at school before the liftoff because there was a teacher that was on board and was to be the first teacher in space. At that young of an age, you really just know that something bad has happened, but you do not yet know how to feel emotion about it. It was weird to watch footage at that age because, quite frankly, a blowing up shuttle looks pretty cool until you grow up and realize that there were people in it that died at that time. I wonder if that is how those who were kids when 9/11 occurred feel now.

In middle school or high school, I toured the local manufacturing plant where they made things that were used on airplanes and I do not remember what else. At the end of the tour, the students were all given posters that had the pictures of those who died in the Challenger tragedy on it with a picture of the shuttle itself. That poster hung on my wall of my bedroom until my parents moved out of that house while I was in college. I probably threw that poster away in the move, but I think I held onto it for so long because I was always fascinated by the tragedy. It was the first national tragedy that I remember as a child. The Branch Davidian compound burned when I was in middle school. The Oklahoma City bombing happened while I was in high school. 9/11 happened while I was in college. The shuttle burned up on reentry while I was in law school. However, I think that the Challenger tragedy was what taught me in a way how to respond to national tragedies even if it had to be learned over a period of time.

Countdown to 30: Day 21

September 11, 2001 is a day that I will never be able to forget. It was the strangest day of my life, as I am sure it was for most people who were alive and old enough to remember the day. It started out just like any other with me hitting the snooze button a few times. I got out of bed early enough to turn on the TV for a few minutes before taking a shower. I turned the TV on to find a strange sight of one of the twin towers with smoke billowing out of the middle and a plane flying into the second tower. At first I wondered what new movie was being promoted on NBC’s Today Show. It was that surreal.

I do not remember if I had figured out it was really happening before getting in the shower, or if reality set in some time during my shower. What I do remember is getting out of the shower in time to see the next breaking story of a plane hitting the Pentagon. There was no denying at that point that some sort of attack was happening. I went to class only to find out my first class of the day was cancelled. I went to some friends’ apartment where we watched the towers fall and the crash site of the plane in Pennsylvania. I remember thinking as the first tower fell that there was no telling how many hundreds of people lost their lives before our eyes. Then there was an eerie feeling of knowing that the second tower was still standing, but probably not for long. I started out for my next class at some point, but found out on the way that it was cancelled and returned to the TV coverage. We all talked to family quite a bit that day.

The coverage was on almost every channel. It did not matter if it was a cable, network, syndicated, or channels in other languages, the images were shown over and over and over and over. The stories about those who had died started to be told. The coverage was overwhelming at times. I remember that at one point we had to search for something that was not about the tragedy, but after just a few minutes, we were curious again. On American TV, they were talking about people that had jumped from the buildings because of the heat, but they were not showing those people jumping. On one of our channel flipping trips, we stopped on Telemundo or some other Spanish speaking station only to see people jumping and falling to their death. It was horrible. Those images made me decide to spend the night with my friends and caused us to need to watch A Bug’s Life just to be able to sleep some that night. The same night, my brand new car got towed and we had to go get it the next day.

Looking back on 9/11 seems surreal even now. Baylor had military jets flying over it all the time because Baylor had students that were seen as potential targets because of their parents’ positions in the government. A somber mood in general was seen for several weeks. Patriotism was cool again, although that did not last long. Churches were full again, but that also did not last long. I think that the media has overplayed the event and that people were tired of it after a while. In some ways that caused people to become a bit desensitized to the event. Now there are movies and documentaries and books and news specials galore that talk about the event. It was a life changing day in many ways because it was then that I really learned that I cannot trust anyone with my security other than God. Governments and cities and nations are vulnerable to attack. If my security is based on governments or militaries or airport securities, I have no hope. I have to trust in God and Him alone for my security, realizing that no one can take the security of my salvation away from me even if they take my life.

Countdown to 30: Day 22

My grandfather died during my junior year of high school. Although I had known people who had died in the past, it was really the first time I dealt with grief in the context of the death of a person I was close to. I was old enough to understand the reality of death, and the pain that comes from the knowledge of knowing that I would not see him again in this life.

My grandfather was diagnosed with cancer around the same time of the Oklahoma City bombing. I do not remember if it was that day or the day before or if the news was broken to me and my brother only on that day. It was a pretty odd time though with the family sadness and the national tragedy overlapping. The next few months were filled with treatment and the realization that the cancer was terminal. Eventually he got to the point where he had to be hospitalized, and then basically slipped further and further away as he was unable to communicate. My family traumatized me by forcing me to go in to see him when he was so bad the day or two before he died. I swear that I have had a fear of hospitals since that time (parents – don’t force your children to do things like that please!). It takes a pretty big event for me to go to a hospital to visit someone, and I usually will not go to a maternity ward even to visit a new mother and baby. I will not go to a hospital alone, and I am a BIG baby when it comes to actually walking into a hospital. Just ask my boy in New Orleans who had to come downstairs and outside to coax me in to see his new baby in the freezing cold.

It is odd to lose a family member to cancer. As you watch the person waste away in pain, you actually reach a point where you are praying for them to die so that they do not have to suffer anymore. It was an incomprehensible feeling for me to have at the time, but it is the point that you come to. Since that time, I realize it is OK for us to pray for God to allow someone to be released from pain at the same time that you are praying for God to heal them. It is a good lesson in learning to pray that God’s will be done in a situation.

I would not say that each death of someone close to me since my grandfather’s death has been easier, but I have dealt with each death better as I have learned more and more about God and the comfort He provides in that situation. I have also learned to see God’s grace in death. God did not allow my grandfather to suffer long. His cancer was quick spreading. However, we had a chance to prepare for his death and say goodbye. My grandfather lived a good life. God allowed me to have a relationship with my grandfather who was a godly man and good example for me. God also allowed my grandfather to see how his faithfulness to God contributed to the spread of the gospel down to my generation. All these things are blessings that God has enabled me to see through the life and death of my grandfather, helping to shape my theology of death.

Countdown to 30: Day 23

(Yesterday life happened and this did not get posted, although it was already written. That just means two posts today!)

For the spring break mission trip in 2000, our college and high school groups went to Flagstaff, Arizona. I learned so much about God on that trip that it probably was the turning point in making the faith of my parents my own. Too often in college children turn away from the teachings of their parents, but I had the opportunity to build upon the foundation that my parents had built.

Our mission trip to Flagstaff was to an Indian reservation where we were to have a vacation Bible school type ministry to the children and attend church on the reservation. When we arrived, it was around 70 degrees and nice enough that a group of us were able to climb a mountain. It was the first mountain I climbed (and I believe the last to this point), and the view from the top made the struggle of the climb worth it. The beauty of creation pointed toward the Creator. It was awesome. The next morning we woke up to a foot of snow on the ground. At that point I learned that a place has crazier weather than Texas!

The church was small and obviously filled with poverty. For example, to go to the bathroom, you had to use an outhouse ... without a door. Did I mention that there was a foot of snow in Flagstaff? Although there was not a foot of snow at that point on the reservation where the church was located, it was cold enough to have a foot of snow on the ground. The outhouse hole acts like a wind tunnel blowing right on your bare bottom. The scenery was also such that you really, genuinely expected Doc Holliday to come riding up on a horse over the hill and declare, “I’m your Huckleberry” while you did your business.

Although the church did not have much, that church was full of love and generosity. The people showed us hospitality providing food for us and serving lovingly even though you knew it was a sacrifice. The faith of the people in the midst of their adversity was a lesson for me. My church at the time met in a grand building, and even showed hospitality to college students, but we did not have the love that could be felt in this small, faithful congregation. My church’s attempts at worship fell short of what this congregation did with a small keyboard, maybe a guitar, and off-key singing that truly came out of a heart of worship. It was unlike anything that I remembered experiencing up to that point.

Since we were in Flagstaff, we were close enough to plan a trip to see the Grand Canyon. First, we went on the reservation to see where the actual start of the Grand Canyon is. Surprisingly, it starts as a small canyon that you can easily climb down into and did not go very deep. It was unamazing except for the fact that you knew that the Grand Canyon was present many miles away. We also, during the midst of a slight blizzard, went to see Sedona Canyon. The rock formations were amazing, and I remember thinking, “I do not see how the Grand Canyon can top this!” Boy, I could not have been more wrong!

I was not expecting much driving up to the Grand Canyon. Sure I had seen pictures that were amazing. However, I had been told that it was not as awesome as everyone acts like it is by someone else who had been there. I thought that the hour that we were planning on spending there would be too much. I was excited, but not overly excited.

I will never forget the first time I walked up to the sight of the Grand Canyon. My first surprise was that the side we were on was covered in snow. I always thought of the Grand Canyon as a desert. The other side looks like a desert. Much to my surprise, though, there is a forest on the tourist side. As we walked through the tourist trail up to the first observation point, I began to think that I might be in for a bigger surprise once I reached the view. Seeing the Grand Canyon for the first time, I was speechless for several minutes. The first statement out of my mouth was, “There is a God.” I knew that, but standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon, you cannot deny the existence of God. God is obvious. There are colors that cannot be described or recreated by man. There is beauty that points to a Creator. Pictures do not do justice to the sight that you see. There is no way to make the Grand Canyon overrated or overcommercialized. It is a creation that God uses to point to Himself and to give delight to mankind. It was amazing.

Later in the trip as I enjoyed more of God’s creation, I read Psalm 139. It was probably not the first time that I read the Psalm, but it was like reading it for the first time. God had planned for me to go on that trip and to see His creation. God had created me just as He has created all of the other beautiful things that I had seen on that trip. God was preparing me to serve Him and had a plan for me. Psalm 139 became one of my favorite passages at that point, and the Grand Canyon is a testimony of the reality of God for me. Although I do not think that I have ever doubted the existence of God, or if I have, it was not for long, I do know that since viewing the Grand Canyon, I cannot deny the existence of God. Everyone needs a Grand Canyon moment.

Very Rare Political Sidenote

I imagine, due to recent actions or lack of action on the part of the President in the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, that there was a conversation at the White House similar to the one below sometime soon after the inauguration:

President: Let's start fulfilling my campaign promises and bring the troops home.
Pentagon Official: Are you sure you want to do that Mr. President? Here are the things we could not tell you until you were Commander in Chief.
[Pentagon Official shares top-secret, extremely confidential, "if I tell you, I would have to kill you" information]
President: Oh. Hmmm. Now I am in a bad spot. I made all of those campaign promises and now I have to figure out how to keep them. What will I do?

Even if this is not what occurred, it is a logical explanation for the recent indications that the President may have to increase troop presence instead of decreasing it. Let's hope that the President will care more about our national security and the matters that we do not need to know, but need to trust the Commander in Chief to handle, than his inability to fulfill campaign promises (or his recent Nobel Peace Prize win).

Countdown to 30: Day 24

I read Cry, the Beloved Country for the first time my junior year of college. It was the worst two weeks of my life up to that point since I had a major test in each of my classes, a chapter of my honors thesis due, a term paper due, and I was supposed to read this book that I had no desire to read for my honors discussion group. Since there are only a limited number of hours in a week, Cry, the Beloved Country did not get read in time for the discussion group and it was apparent that I was the only student in the room that had not completed the assignment. I knew that I would have to hurry up and read the book and get something turned in as soon as possible in order to keep from having to make up the discussion group or get an incomplete. I was determined not to like the book.

I began reading after the class, maybe even that night, and once I started the book, something happened. The story changed me. It was a simple story, written in a simple way, that convicted me of areas of my life that needed to be changed. Since it was a story about South Africa, I was deceived into thinking it would not have implications for me in America until I was too far into the book to protect myself from the message. It was a story about racism without being about racism. Racism was institutionalized without placing blame on a particular aspect of government. It was a story that personalized a criminal without making him a hero or, in some ways, a victim other than of his own choices. The true victim accomplishes almost as much in death as he did in life, and his death is an irony given his convictions. It is a book that makes you uncomfortable as you read it. It is about forgiveness and justice, mercy and punishment.

I read the book after going to New Orleans the second time. I went to a high school that was not diverse at all. I attended Baylor where diversity was present, but not really true. I had preconceived ideas about criminals. I did not believe in institutional racism. I believed in justice, but really did not know my responsibility to forgive. Cry, the Beloved Country changed the way I thought about crime, criminals, inner city problems, and my responses to all of the above. Cry, the Beloved Country taught me that personal relationships mean more than institutional attempts to fix the problems. It is not the government’s responsibility to fix the inner cities, although it is often necessary to depend on the government. It is not the government’s responsibility to feed the poor or heal the sick because it often leads to more problems. Instead it is the responsibility of the church, and individuals investing in lives, to reconcile relationships in the inner cities. God used this book to teach me important lessons that have remained with me throughout my experiences since that time. I have had to deal with forgiving people who have wronged those I loved, even murder. I have also seen those I love commit crimes. Fortunately I have been able to see the human behind the acts and even how society and the church have failed the human, but how God can still redeem the human and the situation for His glory. Next to the Bible, this book has probably done more to change my life and my perspective than anything else I have read.

Countdown to 30: Day 25

I decided to attend Baylor University for my undergraduate studies because I wanted to go to law school there. I made the decision without really considering the cost of the university. I even determined to attend without visiting the campus. The decision to attend Baylor has shaped me in several ways.

First, I let God lead me to where I needed to be trusting that He would provide. Of course I am paying a ton of my salary to student loans now, but it was still worth it to spend seven years in Waco and to create friendships that last to the present. There were times where I was not sure I would have enough money to get what I needed, but God always provided. I also learned how to give sacrificially during that time because I could not afford to tithe, yet I cannot think of any time that I did not tithe without making it up in the next month or two.

Second, I learned a lot about myself during my years at Baylor. You really decide who and what you are going to become when you leave your parents. It was one of the first tests of my faith when I had to really decide if I believed in God like I said that I did. I had many tests of my salvation, and my faith remained intact providing me with assurance of what I knew had occurred as a child. There were many trials over the seven years that I was there, including roommate issues, thesis advisor issues, national crises, money issues, fires in my apartment complex, to name a few. Each trial confirmed my faith in God.

Third, I realized that my love for children had to be incorporated into my adult life somehow. I worked at a daycare for five of the seven years (even though some of that time was subbing and not really regular). I love children. I love working with children. I am a natural at working with children. I am a lawyer. Lawyers do not typically work with children. However, my years spent at the daycare taught me how to be a minister to people with children and how to talk to children. Now I am able to use that experience to represent children in abuse and neglect cases in the courtroom. Also, I am almost always available to babysit for my friends who have children. Finally, my church figured out I am good with children and I am currently teaching in the preschool three year old Sunday school class.

The college years are formative times for almost anyone who moves away from home. I am glad I chose Baylor. The environment was right for me. I plugged into a local church. I confirmed my faith by continuing to experience spiritual growth. There is so much more that could be said about Baylor and my years spent in Waco, and maybe it will make another appearance on this countdown, but for now, these are my brief thoughts as I reflect on my Baylor years.

Countdown to 30: Day 26

My parents moved me from Texarkana before my second grade year, and I still have not forgiven them from moving me away from Texarkana. OK, maybe I have (notice, it is a maybe), but the years in Fort Worth did shape who I am today.

My parents had a good reason for moving me. My daddy knew that he was called to the ministry and he was being obedient to God in attending seminary in Fort Worth. It was quite a move of faith for my family though. The relationships that we had in Texarkana were deep. I had to leave my second mother, Ms. Brenda (who took care of me even before I was born); my favorite Sunday school teacher, Mrs. Crystal (no one else compared to her); my favorite teacher, Mrs. Gentry; a good school; an even better church; and the only home I had ever known. It was traumatic.

Our family had to depend on God for everything while we were in Fort Worth. At the time my brother and I probably did not know how much we were depending on God, but my parents have continued to tell stories of God’s provision during the time that we were in Fort Worth. Our family had to depend on God for payment of unexpected bills, clothes and shoes for me and my brother, payment of tuition, Christmas gifts, everything. People from Texarkana were obedient to provide for our family when we were in need.

When I have a need, I usually recall how God was faithful to provide when we were in Fort Worth, and that enables me to have the faith in God to provide in the current situation. I also believe that seeing the generosity of others during that time has made me more generous when I see someone in need or feel God’s Spirit urging me to meet a need. Although I still sort of wish that we had never moved away from Texarkana, I can now see how God used that move to teach me to depend on Him, even through hearing of the stories of provision. Plus, God has allowed me to return to the place that I have always felt is home.

Countdown to 30: Day 27

New Orleans March 2002. The week in New Orleans for spring break 2002 changed my life forever. New Orleans has done quite a bit to shape me into who I am today. New Orleans will make quite a few appearances over the next few weeks, so I am going to go ahead and lay the foundation for New Orleans as well.

My first trip to the Carver Baptist Center in New Orleans was March 2001. I hated it. I hated the city. The children were rowdy. The Center was not what I expected. The sleeping quarters were hot and crowded. The showers were small and crowded. The French Quarter was dirty and crowded. The trains and boats on the River were loud. There were a ton of things that I did not like about the city. There was one little boy that I did like named Michael, but that was it.

My friend went to New Orleans as a summer missionary the summer of 2001, and I started to fall in love with the children at the Center through her. I also went with her and a few friends fall break of 2001, and God was starting to chip away at some of my dislike of the city. I still had a ways to go, but I was starting to see that God had a plan for that city and for those kids.

In March 2002, our church chose to go on our second spring break mission trip to New Orleans. Although I was slightly disappointed that we were going back to the same place two years in a row (back when I viewed mission trips as a way to see as a new place as much as sharing the gospel), I could not wait to see Michael. There were other children I knew by name by that point and could not wait to see either, but I was most excited about seeing Michael. During that week, my heart towards New Orleans was changed forever.

I was not assigned to work with Michael’s age group, which was a disappointment at the time, but now I can see how God used that to form relationships that are still meaningful today. One of the boys in the class I was assigned to is currently living with me and attending Texarkana College. A simple little decision by a college minister making assignments seven years ago resulted in my ability to host this student today. That college minister probably has no idea that the decision made seven years ago has present day consequences. Isn’t God amazing? A boy who was locked out of his house when we arrived in town who remembers me from that trip although I do not remember him from then is one of the most important people in my life today (you will hear more about him before I reach thirty!). Missionaries who the year before were just names and people we saw working started becoming friends. A city that the year before had not quite captured me became my second home. When I left that mission trip, I began planning my next trip to New Orleans, and I still am always planning my next trip to New Orleans. At this point, I have lost count on how many times I have been there. It is a place that is a part of who I am, and in the past eight years (almost nine now) has taught me so much about God and humanity.

Countdown to 30: Day 28

Although my parents were key to my salvation because the gospel started in our home, there were two other people that really made a difference in my early years also resulting in my change of heart – Mrs. Crystal and Bro. Jordan.

Mrs. Crystal was my Sunday school teacher for years. I cannot remember a time when she was not my Sunday school teacher until my family moved to Fort Worth before my second grade year. She faithfully loved me for the important years in my childhood and faithfully taught me God’s word. I adored her, and I think that she felt the same way about me. Not only was she there for all of the church events, but she had a son the same age as me, and was there for all of my school events as well. I thought of her as a second mother. I think that she is an example of how teachers of young children do not realize how much they mean in the lives of the children that they teach. She was obedient to God’s call to teach the word of God to children, and because of her obedience, children like me responded to the gospel. She was faithful to love and that show of God’s love made church a place that this child looked forward to each week. Now I get to teach her grandson and love all over him and teach him God’s word which I know is being taught to him in his home as well, and I am glad that his Granna modeled for me how to show God’s love to children.

Bro. Jordan was our preacher during my early childhood years. I do not remember much about sermons that he preached. I do know that he used the Bible in all of his sermons and, from hearing him preach when I got older, that he tries to make the Bible passage central to the message. I do know that he taught about sin and taught that it was bad and would send you to hell. In fact, I think that he preached about hell – a lot. Enough to make this child afraid of going there and being separated from God. I am convinced that because he was faithful to teach the hard things of God’s word – sin, hell, God’s wrath – as well as about God’s love and the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross, I had an understanding of the basics of the gospel at a young age. My parents took their responsibility to discipline children seriously making sure that we knew how to sit through the service at a very young age (pretty much from birth forward), and God rewarded that with me hearing preaching based on the God’s word from a young age and God gave me an understanding at a young age.

I tend to not agree with having children’s church. Although there are a handful of children (at our church I could probably count them on one hand) that may need to be in children’s church instead of in the service, the majority of our children need to be exposed to the biblical preaching that comes from the pulpit at a young age. Is it a hassle to discipline during church? Yes. Do other members of the church tend to wish that children were not in the service? Yes. These same people do not understand the importance of children’s ministry and often did not make church a priority in their homes and do not know how to humble themselves in the body of Christ anyway. Will God reward our churches when we train our children in the things of God? Most definitely. I will say that I try to be as patient and understanding as possible when parents choose to have their children near me because the child needs to hear the sermon as much as I do. One day that child may be writing about his or her Sunday school teacher and Bro. Scott and how the faithfulness of those in the church resulted in that child having an understanding of the gospel.

Countdown to 30: Day 29

My parents played a key part in my salvation at a young age. I used to think that I had the most boring testimony ever. Now I see how my testimony is the type of testimony that God actually desires and delights in because it is the result of my parents’ obedience and faithfulness to God’s Word.

As a child, I remember church and Bible stories being important parts of our home. Church was always a priority, and both mom and daddy took us to church. Even when we went out of town, we were in church. Nothing came before church. No activity was more important than church. My parents even made the important decision to keep me and my brother in church for the preaching instead of sending us to children’s church. Because of this, I was exposed to preaching that was gospel centered and based on God’s word. Church was not the only time that I heard God’s word though. My parents were faithful in reading and teaching me and my brother Bible stories all throughout our childhood.

Deuteronomy 6:4-9 says “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.” It is God’s will for the home to be the place where the things of God are taught, and my parents made sure to obey that command.

I think that too often parents make the mistake of thinking that their children are not old enough to understand the things of God, or that the things of God need to be simplified or watered down, or that the church is supposed to teach their children about God. My parents did not let any of these things deter them from being obedient to God’s command to teach children the things of God. Of course some things are going to be too difficult for children to understand – adults cannot understand. However, children are often better at accepting things because God said so on faith than teenagers or adults, so it is important to teach them to accept concepts such as the Trinity at a young age. God makes it clear that His word is what produces fruit, so there is no need for parents to water down what God’s word says. It may be necessary to make it age appropriate or to explain it in a way that children may better understand, but the ugliness of sin and the commands of God should be communicated. God demands obedience to His word and nothing less. God commands that children be taught what God has done in the past so that children know who God is.

My parents have been faithful to communicate the things of God to the next generation by making God’s word a priority in our home. They also lived the gospel. I understood God’s unconditional love because it was like the love of my parents. I understood God’s faithfulness to His children because of my parents’ faithfulness to our family and each other. I understood God as a father because I had a godly daddy. I was willing to make sacrifices to live for God because I had seen my mom and daddy make sacrifices following God. I am who I am today because I had godly parents who made the gospel a priority in our home, resulting in my salvation at a young age, and, I am convinced, saving our family from a lot of heartbreak that comes from the actions of rebellious children.