What makes me tick?

I was assigned the task of writing a short paper for my Romans class entitled "What Makes You Tick?" Well, I dunno if it's interesting reading, but here 'tis anyways:

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What makes me tick? Good question.

First, I'm a man fully in love with the Lord my God. I've a funny way of showing it sometimes, but He is ever-present in my thoughts and activities. Sometimes I think of myself along the lines of David or Paul wherein my desire is to fully dedicate myself to the Lord, but my flesh has this nasty habit of getting in the way. Of course, I'd hardly elevate myself to the level of David or Paul, but that is the comparison--albeit on a lower scale.

Of a much lesser note, I dig coffee. Hearty, robust, fresh-ground coffee. Straight from the bean. There are many flavors of coffee that I've found enjoyable, such as Snickerdoodle, Hazelnut, Egyptian Harrar, and even Blueberry Creme, but none can replace a good ole' fashioned French Roast. That's right, I said French Roast. Due to the election of a conservative hard-liner in France, I no longer feel compelled to boycott all things French. I'm not worried about calling it "Freedom Roast" or anything like that. I am kind of worried about the packages with the white flag on the label, however.

I truly enjoy singing. I've always had a love for music. The first "favorite band" in my life was the Beach Boys way back in the fifth grade. "Endless Summer" was the album (remember vinyl albums?) that I wore out for about a year. Soon after that, I discovered "Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" by the Beatles. This plunged me into an extensive love affair with the Beatles' music--mostly their later material, but also including their earlier stuff to a lesser extent. When I got to high school, I was introduced to Led Zeppelin, which proved to be a gateway drug that lead me to myriad types of other music, such as the Blues, Jazz, and Classical. The problem I found with the groups I lionized was that I tried to sing along and butchered it badly. This lead to the thought that I couldn't sing and never would be able to. When I became a Christian many years later and sang in worship, I discovered that my vocal range was Second Bass. Well, no wonder! You see, all of my favorite bands growing up had extremely high tenor lead singers, and I was a bass trying to sing along with those jokers! Once I started singing along with other basses, I learned that I could, in fact, carry a tune. There's a lesson in there somewhere...

I am currently working in the White County Detention Center as a jail minister, which is a rather fulfilling task. For the last two years, I've been going in on Sunday nights and Tuesday nights to take care of Communion and the library cart along with other administrative duties--basically clearing the hurdles for the volunteers. Whenever someone doesn't show up, I go in their stead to lead singing, lead Communion or give the lesson. I've also had occasion to baptize folks, and that has been VERY rewarding. I must say that it is an awe-inspiring thing to be present at the birth of a new babe in Christ, especially when the baby has been through the mill, battle-hardened, broken, scarred and tested like these folks behind bars have been.

Well, that's what makes me tick. Of course, this isn't everything there is, but this is only a two page paper...

I Had A Dream

No, it wasn't some Dr. Martin Luther King thang...

Last night I dreamed one of the funniest dreams I've dreamed in years.

First, the stage needs to be set. Jeff and Julie Montgomery have a large family by today's standards. They're raising a basketball team. A large brood. Three girls and two boys. Lots of funny stories about raising them.

Well, last night I dreamed they had another one. This would be baby number six. I guess he'd be the equipment manager.

We were in Jeff's front yard talkin' and jokin' when his newest baby (didn't have a name yet in the dream, even though the boy was about a year old) says, "I go boo-boo." Jeff checked the diaper, but there wasn't any evidence. "You didn't boo-boo." "I go boo-boo," replied the boy. Jeff checked it again, and the boy released a stream of kimchi gas straight up Jeff's nose.

"WHOA!" Jeff flinched like he'd been punched in the face. The next thing we knew, Mt. Saint Helens was erupting in the boy's shorts. Seriously, it was like the bubbling mud puddles at Mount Lassen. Geysers were shooting out of the leg holes and gurgling out of the waistband.

Something you have to know about Jeff is that he's a very resourceful parent. He told me that he once had a child throw up in church--something like a gallon of oatmeal and orange juice--and he cleaned it up with a church bulletin, a diaper bag, and baby wipes.

Well, out of nowhere, a 13 gallon kitchen trash bucket appeared--kinda' like out of a Looney Tunes cartoon with Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck--and he scooped up the diaper with the overflow straight into the bucket. Now, don't ask me why he worried about the mess, since it was on the grass in his front yard, and all he'd have to do is spray it off with a garden hose, but this is MY dream, not what Jeff would actually do.

When Jeff was done cleaning up the mess, he started on the baby boy with a miraculously appearing box of baby wipes. I probably would've sprayed the boy with a shot from the garden hose, but Jeff is a li'l more compassionate than that--and it's also a dream. Come to think of it, Jeff might've sprayed him with the garden hose, too...

As Jeff was wiping the boy down, tears were streaming down Jeff's face. It smelled truly bad. Kimchi gas. If you don't know what kimchi is, you're in for a treat. It's a Korean dish made with fermented cabbage. They take cabbage and bury it for a while, and then serve it on your plate. Ick.

So Jeff wiped the boy down and looked at him mournfully, saying "You make daddy cry."

I laughed so hard I woke up.

Usually when I wake up in the middle of the night, I'm bothered about it because I'm truly a man in need of beauty sleep. Not this time, even though I couldn't get back to sleep. No, I was too busy giggling. Man, I'm STILL giggling.

Maybe I should start a blog.