by | October 14, 2012 · 7:06 pm

A Dream Come True, Sadly

A Dream

It has long been a dream of mine to just lay (lie?) in bed all day. All day, all night, just chillin’ there in my Spongebob pants.

Part of the dream is getting phone calls with people asking, “Anthony, where are you?” In response I would say, “Oh, just laying in bed.”

“But it’s 3 in the afternoon!” they would exclaim, thinking I could be shocked back to reality. “Really?” I would say, “I thought it was much later.”

A Nightmare

Well, my dream became reality, only it was a reality far too real to be fun. Saturday morning, about 9 a.m., I began to feel ill. By 10:00 I was in full-blown stomach virus meltdown. I made it to my bedroom and didn’t leave until just before this post.

On Thursday and Friday our oldest daughter, Alicia, came to visit. She stayed in our bed, sick with whatever my wife and I both caught. Friday night my wife became ill, then I followed.

But hey, there I was, over 24 hours in bed (except for the multiple trips to the toilet and the occasional cooling off time on the bathroom floor).

Be Careful…

You know the old saying, “Be careful what you wish for?” Well, be careful what you wish for.

Laying (lying) in bed all day and night is no fun, especially when you can’t do anything. I couldn’t read, watch TV, listen to music, get comfortable, or even enjoy crackers and water.

Important Things

But I can say that spending all that time in bed sick as a dog (although I have never seen a dog so sick) reminded me of what is most important – not being sick.

When one is puking his guts up, along with incurring the revenge of Montezuma, Facebook, WordPress, Twitter, texting, and any other form of modern communication is worthless. Relationships are even worthless if they are as sick as you are. The most important thing is to not be sick, unless you have other family who is willing to treat you like a spoiled baby and meet your every perceived need.

Thankfully, after coming home from a youth outing Saturday night, our other daughters were able to see the humor in two adults in misery. Considering how this stuff is so contagious, I wonder how important they will think it was to make fun of mommy and daddy in a day or two?

They’re just lucky they brought us jello and water when we asked. That was important, too.

Oh, One More Thing…

Years ago, when I was in Romania, I became similarly ill. Well, actually I was much worse, because that illness lasted for nearly a week – I almost died.

Do you know what I was given to make me feel better? Green tea, white rice, and goat cheese. Sorry, but it didn’t help.

What I wanted was Sprite (or something like it) over real, honest-to-goodness ice. You know, H2o that is frozen into little tiny cubes. My host family said, “Nu, Nu, Nu!” I said, “Da, Da, Da!”

Long story short, a U.S. Navy medic who was traveling with us agreed to find a carbonated drink (which ended up being mineral water with fruit syrup) and some bottle caps. We boiled some water, filled the caps, and snuck them into a tiny freezer. That night I had ice in my drink.

American ingenuity – what a wonderful thing!

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by | October 10, 2012 · 1:09 pm

Blog Drug

Can’t Help It!

I have so much writing to do by tomorrow night, it isn’t even funny (but that won’t keep me from finding something to laugh about, especially when I start operating on no sleep). I have to get a research paper done  – no excuses.

But when I keep getting email notifications of other blog posts, it’s like waving an addictive drug in front of an addict to addictive drugs. It’s driving me crazy! I want to write about stuff, too!

So, even though I am on a deadline, I had to get on here and say something. I can’t help it. It’s been too long.

Something

“Something.” There, I said it.

That does remind me of a professor I had years and years and years ago. Dr. Jay P. Trimble was a black (African-American, to be politically correct) pastor and veteran of the Vietnam war. He was (and is) a tough cookie.

Whenever Dr. Trimble would say something worth saying, and he knew it, he expected a response. If he didn’t get an “amen,” a “hallelujah,” or a “you got that right,” he would slam his hand on the pulpit and say in a loud, gruff voice that would remind you of a Harley Davidson revving its engine, “I SAID something!”

Well, I might not have had anything worth saying, but I DID say “something.”

Can I get an “AMEN!”?

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by | October 6, 2012 · 11:26 am

Long-Haired Hippie Dog

Nugget

We have a little dog in our family named Nugget. We call him “Nug.” He was a gift to my wife when she got her accounting degree from UTC.

Before Grommingdale’s

Nug is a Chorkie (Chihuahua-Yorkie). He is cute as all get out, but his hair can get long. That is why we have to get him groomed every so often. If not, his hair will cover his eyes, which causes him to not be able to catch treats.

Just the other day, poor Nug was having all his treats snatched away because they would land in the floor. He couldn’t see me toss them, but our daughter’s dog, Baby Girl, could. That is when I’d had enough. He had to go to the groomers.

Bone Appetit

There is a cute little place in the North Shore district of Chattanooga called Bone Appetit. Believe it or not, they are a full-service dog-lover’s heaven. Not only do they sell toys, leashes, and food, but they sell all sorts of gourmet treats made in their own bakery.

Bone Appetit is also home to Groomingdale’s. This is where Nug went to make his fur look fine. The people there were so nice, and the facilities smelled…well…not like a kennel. Having a doggy treat bakery on-site must have had something to do with it, I guess?

And speaking of that bakery, I wondered what would happen if I stuck some of those treats in my daughters’ Christmas stockings? Would they figure out the cookies were meant for animals, not them? I wonder how they taste? Hmmm.

These are all for dogs!

Still Our Dog

So anyway, later in the day I went to get Nug. He was so happy to see me that he nearly jumped out of the groomer’s arms. Now that the hair was out of his eyes, he could see me! And he can catch treats, too!

After Groomingdale’s

Now, I said all of the above in order to make a point. Did the way Nugget looked before, or after, change his relationship to my wife and me? The way he looked had nothing to do with his place in our hearts, only whether or not he could be “blessed” with treats.

Our Master

The way we look has very little to do with our relationship to God, either. Just because one person may not look his best, that doesn’t necessarily mean he isn’t a child of God. As a matter of fact, there was a really fancy poodle at the groomers, but (thank the Lord) it didn’t belong to me.

Be careful when you judge by appearances. Sure, some people dress in ways that are meant to make a statement. Some don’t dress at all in order to make a statement. But, generally speaking, looks are a poor indicator of “ownership.” Nugget is no more ours now than when his hair was long. God is no more my Master because I am bald.

“Judge not according to the appearance, but judge righteous judgment.” – John 7:24 KJV

Just something for you to think about.

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by | October 3, 2012 · 9:58 am

An Informal Post

This is just an informal note to all my readers that nothing formal is going to be published on this blog until I finish my research papers that are due by the 11th of this month (taking a deeeeep breath).

Sooooo…since you will be being (I love that, “be being”) deprived of in-depth analysis of most things irrelevant, why not take a look at another blog to which I contribute (or, “which I contribute to,” if you prefer ending with a preposition).

ProverbialThought.com

Proverbial Thought is a daily devotional/commentary on the book of Proverbs. Several other writers, along with myself, daily take a proverb (not just a verse, even though most proverbs are only one verse) and share our thoughts. It’s more than a typical commentary…it’s a testimony to real-life examples of how biblical wisdom is expressed.

In the meantime, be thinking of me. I’ve got eight days to do what should have been done weeks ago.

Have a great day!

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by | October 1, 2012 · 6:39 pm

Making the “Freshly Pressed” Page

Hitsville

I used to play music with groups that were always watching the charts to see where they placed. It was sometimes funny to hear them say things like, “What in the world do people like that song for?” Yet, whether people liked it or not, the numbers didn’t lie. People were listening to it.

That’s sorta the way I feel today. Who am I that so many people would come to check out my blog? All because of one post that “made the charts,” my views have gone through the proverbial roof. I can imagine other bloggers asking, “Why is he getting so much traffic?”

Gratitude

My thanks goes out to whoever made the decision to include one of my posts on the “Freshly Pressed” page at WordPress. My appreciation goes out to not only all of you who have visited, but those special folk who left nice comments. Thank you!

I may not be in Hitsville for long; I may be a one-hit wonder. But while I am in the spotlight, may I say that God is good, His grace is sufficient, and His mercy endures forever.

Blessings to you all, and thanks again.

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by | October 1, 2012 · 1:51 am

Monday Without a Monkey

Where’s the Monkey?

Believe it or not, I am not a total goof. I do have a life outside of the warmth of that stitched glove with arms, legs, ears, eyes, and a big mouth – the furry glove called “Mr. Monkey.”

Yet, some people ask, “If it’s Monday, where’s the monkey?”  The answer is that every once in a while I have to step away from my partnership with the “unregenerate ape” in order to pursue other activities.

Whatcha Doin’?

Have you ever been trying to enjoy a day off from work, or maybe a simple dentist appointment, when you got a phone call asking, “Hey, whatcha doin’?”

Because I’m a popular guy, you see, I get that question all the time. I get calls from work, church, church members, family, friends, would-be friends, friends-of-friends, my kid’s friends, and people who say they know me. They all want to know what I am doing.

What’s more, as a pastor I am always on call, so my cell phone had to be surgically implanted (I won’t say where). Calls come in all the time from people wanting to know what I’m doing, and they always come at a time when I have to lie, like…

  • When I am in the section of a store that sells stuff my daughters are too embarrassed to purchase on their own.
  • When I am in the bathroom.
  • When I am watching a movie when I should be doing something productive, like washing dishes, or killing an elk.
  • or, When marriage proves to be more than a friendly relationship.

But if you were to call this week or the next, you’d get the following answers…

  • Finishing three six-page papers and one 15 page research paper due by the 11th.
  • Finishing another research paper that requires a presentation with Power Point.
  • Taking my little girl to do something destructive, like shooting tin cans, or knife throwing.
  • Taking my 16-year-old daughter to the recording studio to work on her first project.
  • Studying for at least 6 sermons.
  • Driving a school bus.
  • Writing posts for ProverbialThought.com.
  • Recording a radio broadcast.
  • Meeting with church staff to map out some future plans.
  • Attending my daughter’s last two volley ball games.
  • Spending more time in prayer.
  • and, trimming my eyebrows.

Whatcha’ NOT Doin’?

What I will not be doing is making any promises to do anything else. Now, according to an email I got the other day, this blog is supposed to be featured on the WordPress “Just Pressed” page. If that actually happens, I’ll be doing a dance in front of my computer, but you will NOT see it.

Most of all, I will not be goofing around with Mr. Monkey for a little while. Not only Mondays, but every other day of the week will be crazy. So, if you call, expect a busy signal.

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by | September 28, 2012 · 2:00 am

Would You Sign?

The following post is not meant to offend or make anyone uncomfortable, especially my friends who hold to different beliefs. However, please understand that there are times when we must speak out for the things we value.
Check back later for more crazy posts about crazy stuff.

The Declaration

As we enter into the last few days before a presidential election, we need to be in prayer for our country. The future direction of our country could literally be at stake, and that is a view held by people on both sides of the political isle.

But as a believer in Christ, I feel it is my duty to encourage those in leadership to guide this great nation down a path that secures basic liberties and promotes certain values I hold dear. That is why I signed the Manhattan Declaration.

What is the Manhattan Declaration? It is a “call of Christian conscience.” The following is a quote from ManhattanDeclaration.org…

Christians, when they have lived up to the highest ideals of their faith, have defended the weak and vulnerable and worked tirelessly to protect and strengthen vital institutions of civil society, beginning with the family. It was in this tradition that a group of prominent Christian clergy, ministry leaders, and scholars released the Manhattan Declaration on November 20, 2009 at a press conference in Washington, DC. The 4,700-word declaration speaks in defense of the sanctity of life, traditional marriage, and religious liberty. It issues a clarion call to Christians to adhere firmly to their convictions in these three areas.

Not a Compromiser

Some good friends of mine have decided not to sign this document for fear of giving the wrong impression, the impression of theological compromise. They believe that by signing it they would be supporting the furtherance of key doctrinal differences and error. Specifically, some have expressed fear that signing this document would show support for the Catholic church. However, that is not what this is about.

I have signed this document, as have many other solidly conservative evangelicals, such as Dr. Daniel Akin, Kay Arthur, Dr. Michael Easley, Dr. Al Mohler, Chuck Swindoll, and Ravi Zacharias. None of these people are promoting a different belief system, nor am I. But what we are doing is siding with others who hold to the same cherished beliefs regarding the sanctity of life, traditional marriage, and religious liberty.

Let Your Voice Be Heard

Please, just take a moment or two and read the Manhattan Declaration.  If you do not agree with it, then don’t sign it. If you do not support the values it promotes, then don’t sign it.

But, if you do agree with it….well, you know what to do.

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by | September 27, 2012 · 1:25 pm

Forbidden Food

Breaking the Law

Just because I am a recovering legalist, that does not mean that I advocate breaking the law. The law is there for a reason…which is a whole other theological issue.

But when it comes to laws around the house, especially ones which my wife makes without letting me have a say, anything is up for grabs. The law that says I can’t steal a box of Nilla wafers because she was planning to use them in a banana pudding is absolutely crazy. Who does she think she is?

So, what you will see in this post are actual photographs of a crime in progress. In order to show you one of my favorite foods, I had to break the law.

Nilla Wafers & Peanut Butter

Yesterday, I talked about comfort food. Well, this is another comfort food…at least for me. And it is more than a comfort – it is a thrill.

I like peanut butter. I also like Nilla (pronounced like “vanilla,” but without the “va”) wafers. But when you put them both together you get something akin to a drug. But this drug is not available on the street; it has to be dug out of hiding places around my house.

You see, my wife makes some awesome banana pudding (that’s another post), so she need these wafers. And because she knows that I really like putting peanut butter on them, she thinks she can hide them until she needs them.

Not always, dear.

How They’re Made

What you do is take a box of wafers, open it up, and pour out a random amount into a plate (and let’s get this straight, if they are not Nabisco brand Nilla wafers, they are nasty). Next, you count them. But, there has to be an even number, because you need two to sandwich the peanut butter. It’s not an obsessive-compulsive thing.

Once you have determined that you have an even number, you take a clean knife (obviously) and spread any kind of peanut butter (unless it’s that generic toxic waste stuff) on one wafer. Make sure there is enough, too. Because what you want is enough to squeeze out around the sides when you press the two together. That’s the part you lick off (but I won’t show you that part).

There is also another reason for having an even number. Having an odd number will only make you want to go back for more. When I do, that is when my wife catches me.

Busted

As I was writing this post, my wife walked in the front door. Then, as she came by me sitting at the computer, I handed the box of crispy wafers to her – smiling. She smiled back with an understanding look…like she perfectly understands how she is going to remind me of the “law.”

Thankfully, she’s forgiving. Unfortunately, no banana pudding tonight.

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by | September 26, 2012 · 2:00 am

Appetite for Comfort

Comfort Food, That Is

There are some things in life that we always go back to when nothing else seems to do. It’s called comfort food.

Comfort food is the stuff that you want to eat when you’re depressed, when you’ve lost a limb, or when you’re girlfriend informs you that all along she has been an alien from Jupiter, and now she wants your brain to take back to her daddy.

Comfort food brings back fond memories of childhood and the “good-old-days” (unless you were a starving refugee), when Mom could make you feel better with nothing more than a spoonful of lard and some corn meal.

Comfort Central

Here in the southern United States we have a custom: when somebody dies, we eat.

Whenever a loved one passes away, bites the dust, or essentially assumes room temperature for an indefinite period of time, we trot them off to a funeral home, and then bring in every kind of unhealthy food imaginable. We all know that when one is suffering a terrible loss, comfort food will help dull the pain. And if nothing else, it will help you get to where your loved one is a little quicker than a salad will.

A typical southern funeral home has a dining area. This is where the family and friends can go when they are tired of standing around in the viewing room. They instinctively know that in that room is food which will make them feel better.

Serious Comfort

Well, not long ago my only blood-related uncle went home to be with the Lord. His body was taken to a funeral home in a place called Whitwell (pronounced “Wutwool“), Tennessee. And it was there that the funeral home staff did something that it does for all their families – serve homemade pinto beans.

Now, don’t be fooled, folks. These are not your ordinary beans. These are about the best pinto beans you will ever put in your ever-loving mouth! Served with some homemade cornbread, these beans made me tear up (no joke) as I remembered my granny, my dad, and a much, MUCH simpler life down on the river.

What makes these pintos so special is that they were soaked for 24 hours in water, then slow-cooked the next day in a crock pot with several slices of thick bacon. Of course, there’s more to it than that, but there are secrets to keep.

A Holy Command

Why do we prepare such food for funerals? Seriously? For one thing, sometimes it is hard to find the right words to say when someone is hurting. That’s when people do what they can, and many times the only thing they can do is prepare good food. Hurting people need to be cared for, and this is one way to show it.

Comforting one another is also something we are commanded to do. 1Thessalonians 5:11 tells us to “comfort yourselves together, and edify one another.” And speaking of the hope of resurrection we have in Christ, the Apostle Paul said in the same letter, “comfort one another with these words” (1 Thess. 4:8).

But what happens when words are hard to find? Make a pot of seriously savory pinto beans and cornbread. Tears of heartache may turn into tears of culinary joy.

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by | September 25, 2012 · 5:00 am

Curbed Appetite

New Stuff

I am always up for trying new foods. There is the expectation that comes with wondering what the first bite will taste like. Chicken?

Funny thing, I have eaten a lot of chicken in my day (Baptist preachers are known for that), but not all chicken tastes the same. So, when you hear somebody say, “It tastes like chicken,” remember some people like hard-boiled chicken fetus in the shell (Philippines).

Today’s post is going to include two “new things” from entirely different parts of the world (especially for me). And neither taste like chicken – I don’t think.

Maté

Last week my little girl brought home from Spanish class a little bowl and a bag full of marijuana. Not really!! It only looked like it. And it wasn’t in the bag, just the bowl that was supposed to be a cup.

According to my daughter, and her teacher, and YouTube, and Wikipedia, this was supposed to be a traditional Argentinian drink. A drink, they say, made from steeping dried leaves from the yerba mate plant (or tree) in hot water. I think they switched the yerba mate for grass clippings in the school playground.

Everything about this drink goes against what I practice. You are supposed to fill the cup nearly full with these tiny, crushed leaves, fill it with water, stick in a metal straw that can’t be washed, and drink from it as you pass it around to perfect strangers. What’s wrong with this picture?

What did it taste like? Nasty. They say it’s an acquired taste. I didn’t acquire it.

Sushi

OK, I know what you are thinking…”Anthony! Are you telling us you have never had sushi?” No, I am not going to tell you that. What I am going to tell you is that I never ate sushi that was real sushi and not those stupid California rolls.

Recently, because my daughter was broken-hearted after losing a volleyball game, I allowed myself to be suckered into going to a sushi bar. I think I would have rather gone to a “beer” bar. At least they would have had peanuts.

So, after deciding to let her pick, we ended up with what you see. We got raw Salmon, raw Yellow Tail, and  a Dragon Roll.

Why do people eat this stuff? Is there something in the psyche of some people that makes them want to go out and hunt another creature down like a true predator? Do they really enjoy biting into the cold, sticky flesh of dead sea creature? Haven’t they ever heard of Captain D’s?

Sorry, folks. That was my last time. My mouth tasted like I had licked a trot line for the next day and a half.

Real Food

So, after we left the sushi place, I took the girls one block down and got a hot dog at Good Dog, another North Shore Art District tree-hugger hangout. After eating the foo foo fish, I needed man food

What you see here is a naturally cased, baked bean, slaw, and red onion covered Boston Dog.

You can keep the squid bait.

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