This post will have no deep meaning or insights into life, but it is a happy one. One week ago, as I was cruising across my lawn on my Craftsman riding mower, I eased to a stop. I did not purposely stop, something was wrong. I turned the engine off and began pushing the mower back to the garage when I spotted the culprit – a snapped belt. Now, I must admit, I’m no mechanic. By that I mean that my first instinct upon seeing the broken belt, was that I had run over this piece of garbage and it must have damaged something on my mower. Then, using all my engineering background, I deduced that the belt was actually part of the engine, and by breaking, it prevented the something that made the wheels turn from doing whatever it was it was supposed to do.
So, today I set out to attempt to fix the mower. First thing this morning I made a trip to the Home Depot, which, just being in a place like that always makes you feel like a real man. Once I got there, I had to get a little old lady to show me the mower belts and pick out the right one for me. Back at home, I stood in my garage and gathered all the necessary tools that I might need. With instruction book in hand, I delved into my project. The next hour and half is full of minor successes accomplished by a method I like to call, trial by errors. But, eventually there stood my mower, all parts in place, with no extra pieces. It started up beautifully and ran even better than it had before.
When that engine fired up, I felt like I was such a man. A manly man. You know, wrench in hand, grease under the nails, blood on the knuckles, strain in the back and cramp in the leg. Even though it would have taken the average man half the time, I was still proud. I felt like disassembling my truck motor, or watching a Chuck Norris movie. But my yard, by this time really needed mowing. After two and half weeks, it looked like the African Congo, I really thought I might run into a few orangutans back there.
So, I guess the point of the story is…since there should always be a point to every story, right ladies? The point would be, don’t ever ask me to help with anything mechanical. Or if you do, don’t expect to get it right the first time.
Saturday, August 19, 2006
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Arkansan on the Loose
Everybody from San Francisco is gay. Gas station attendants are usually from India. And women can't drive. These are all stereotypes. This is an unfair way of painting a group of people with one broad stroke. This is typically the work of the prejudiced or the ignorant, or is it, hmmm.
The common stereotype that we Arkansans sometimes run up against is that of being inbred. This is usually garnished with a little bare footedness, toothlessness, dirt roads, and chewing tobacco, but mostly inbreeding. This usually erks me, but as I was attending a recent DNA class in Washington D.C., a fine place full of people around the country, I found myself doing my darndest to perpetuate the public's view of Arkansans.
This was a class of 20 DNA analysts from all different states, and there were two of us representing Arkansas. During my trip, I met up with three of my family members, yes cousins, that happen to be in D.C. at that time. One cousin lives there and works at the capitol, one cousin was in D.C. to take a class, and the other was just visiting. I'm sure that when the my classmates heard that this bumpkin from the south had so much family up there, coupled with the recent press about the Duggars and their 17 or 170 or however many kids, firmly cemented into shape the stereotype that Arkansans are prolific breeders and have infested all sections of the country.
During my stay, I twice had dinner with one of my female cousins, and, to give her a break from her living arrangements during her class, I offered to let her stay at my hotel for a night. She welcomed the offer, and the stereotype lives on.
Also, at the end of our class, our facilitators were unveiling some new features of the software that we were studying. One of these was a new population database to use when we are determining how rare a DNA profile is. This new database was entitled "Double Cousins." So naturally, everybody turned to my colleague and me for the definition of double cousins. They all got a good laugh out of it, but what they didn't know, and we dared not divulge, was that both of us, born and raised in Arkansas, WERE double cousins!! Not related to each other of course, but in our own respective families. (By the way, that is when two brothers marry two sisters, their kids will be double cousins…headache, I know.)
So, I apologize for not being a very good representative of our fine state. At least I brought shoes, parked my donkey ‘round back, and waited until after class to chew my tobacco.
The common stereotype that we Arkansans sometimes run up against is that of being inbred. This is usually garnished with a little bare footedness, toothlessness, dirt roads, and chewing tobacco, but mostly inbreeding. This usually erks me, but as I was attending a recent DNA class in Washington D.C., a fine place full of people around the country, I found myself doing my darndest to perpetuate the public's view of Arkansans.
This was a class of 20 DNA analysts from all different states, and there were two of us representing Arkansas. During my trip, I met up with three of my family members, yes cousins, that happen to be in D.C. at that time. One cousin lives there and works at the capitol, one cousin was in D.C. to take a class, and the other was just visiting. I'm sure that when the my classmates heard that this bumpkin from the south had so much family up there, coupled with the recent press about the Duggars and their 17 or 170 or however many kids, firmly cemented into shape the stereotype that Arkansans are prolific breeders and have infested all sections of the country.
During my stay, I twice had dinner with one of my female cousins, and, to give her a break from her living arrangements during her class, I offered to let her stay at my hotel for a night. She welcomed the offer, and the stereotype lives on.
Also, at the end of our class, our facilitators were unveiling some new features of the software that we were studying. One of these was a new population database to use when we are determining how rare a DNA profile is. This new database was entitled "Double Cousins." So naturally, everybody turned to my colleague and me for the definition of double cousins. They all got a good laugh out of it, but what they didn't know, and we dared not divulge, was that both of us, born and raised in Arkansas, WERE double cousins!! Not related to each other of course, but in our own respective families. (By the way, that is when two brothers marry two sisters, their kids will be double cousins…headache, I know.)
So, I apologize for not being a very good representative of our fine state. At least I brought shoes, parked my donkey ‘round back, and waited until after class to chew my tobacco.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Plan B
Congress has all but finalized the over-the-counter sale of Plan B, an emergency birth control drug better known as the "morning after” pill. The FDA has sent an approval letter to the manufacturer, Barr Pharmaceuticals, outlining the contract details.
Plan B is a hormone pill similar to that of the daily oral birth control pill. But instead of taking the drug on a regular basis, this pill is only ingested directly after unprotected sex. It is recommended that it be taken within 72 hours of copulation. A second pill is included with Plan B that must be taken 12 hours after the first.
Law makers have put some restrictions on the sale of morning after pill. Barr's first proposal had the drug on convenient store shelves and available for purchase by females fourteen years old or older. The final version, however, states that the drug can only be sold in places where there is a permanent pharmacy present. It will be kept behind the counter and women eighteen or older can buy it with photo I.D.
There are many facets of this issue to consider. I won't get into all of them right now; I'll leave that to you. I've considered many of the implications, and I'm not sold either way yet. I'm not sure what the Bible says about a situation like this, and I welcome and encourage all comments and insight. The one thing that I am surprised about is the noticeable lack of an outcry from the anti-abortion groups. I'm no expert on how the pill works physiologically, and I'm not saying that I would agree with them on this, but I still expect more media and lobbying from those activist groups. Let me know what you think, and if you know of any corresponding scripture, post those as well.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Anniversary

On July 27, 2002, four years ago today, in front of two large families, numerous friends, and God Himself, I said to my wife, “I will.” Yep. Oopsie daisy. How can you mess up the “I do” part of your own wedding? Not a promising beginning as a husband. But a beginning nonetheless, and despite my endless shortcomings, Kelly and I are still married and still happy today, four years later.
This last year was a year of growth. Not only for our marriage but also for ourselves. Kelly completed her first year at a new school and also took on responsibilities at her school library. She is now the church librarian and has already given our little church library a dramatic and much needed makeover.
Tiger, our kitty, has also grown in the last year. He has matured to the point where we permit him entrance into our bedroom after dark. Normally he is forbidden because he boxes the mini-blinds and eats the fake plants. He still gets shooed out when he abuses his privileges, but for the most part, he acts appropriately (at least until we go to sleep).
I think the most important, in all regards, is the fact that Kelly and I have grown spiritually. This only strengthens our marriage. I cannot fathom my life without my wife. I have absolutely loved the first four years of our lives together, and I can’t wait to see what the next year holds for us. I guess we’ll find out tomorrow.
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Pop!
“Of every earthly plan that be known to man, He is unconcerned, He's got plans of His own to set up His throne, When He returns.” Kevin Max When He Returns. I heard this song today, and these words especially spoke to me.
Early this morning, God displayed His sovereignty and graciously bursted my bloated bubble. For the past month or so, my feelings of self importance have steadily grown and grown. At work, at home, and at church, things just seemed to be going my way. God was blessing my every move. However, I am a sinful, fallen, greedy, prideful man, and the responsibilities and temptations that accompany my accomplishments and advancements were too much for me. I was overcome with my pride, and I began to forget who actually allowed me to succeed to my current position. I also began to make my own plans for the future. Nothing too ambitious, I thought, but my own personal plans nonetheless. I think God gets a good chuckle when we humans start to think we are in control.
After hearing the news this morning, I was sincerely disappointed and a little indignant. I was upset that I had been given a promising opportunity, and after I basked in my glory, it was ripped from my hands. Eventually, after I had calmed a little, I began to see God’s loving discipline. I am so thankful for it. Knowing that God only corrects His own children, I have moved from a feeling of unfairness, to one of humility and security. Of course it hurts, but I also feel very warm. He’s reminded me of His love for me and of my eternal goal. “He’s got plans of His own to set up His throne.” What an awesome thought, what an awesome reality, and I truly want to participate in His plan. Humility is the only option. Pride fogs over my view, and keeps me from seeing God’s path.
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Hebrews 12:1
If this blog sounds like some of my other blogs, you are correct. Its pretty evident that pride is an offer that I have a hard time resisting. Sometimes I think I’ll never learn my lesson. Sheesh.
Early this morning, God displayed His sovereignty and graciously bursted my bloated bubble. For the past month or so, my feelings of self importance have steadily grown and grown. At work, at home, and at church, things just seemed to be going my way. God was blessing my every move. However, I am a sinful, fallen, greedy, prideful man, and the responsibilities and temptations that accompany my accomplishments and advancements were too much for me. I was overcome with my pride, and I began to forget who actually allowed me to succeed to my current position. I also began to make my own plans for the future. Nothing too ambitious, I thought, but my own personal plans nonetheless. I think God gets a good chuckle when we humans start to think we are in control.
After hearing the news this morning, I was sincerely disappointed and a little indignant. I was upset that I had been given a promising opportunity, and after I basked in my glory, it was ripped from my hands. Eventually, after I had calmed a little, I began to see God’s loving discipline. I am so thankful for it. Knowing that God only corrects His own children, I have moved from a feeling of unfairness, to one of humility and security. Of course it hurts, but I also feel very warm. He’s reminded me of His love for me and of my eternal goal. “He’s got plans of His own to set up His throne.” What an awesome thought, what an awesome reality, and I truly want to participate in His plan. Humility is the only option. Pride fogs over my view, and keeps me from seeing God’s path.
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Hebrews 12:1
If this blog sounds like some of my other blogs, you are correct. Its pretty evident that pride is an offer that I have a hard time resisting. Sometimes I think I’ll never learn my lesson. Sheesh.
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