Because many of you have somehow forgotten to buy my books. (shameless link) I continue to make my primary living by directing sporting events. I am the faceless guy (actually I have a face, it just isn’t on camera) that selects the camera shots that you see during a televised game. For twenty year-five years I have directed Texas Rangers baseball. And all of those seasons have taught me a valuable spiritual lesson from the National Pastime. I have learned how important it is to be a good closer.   In baseball parlance the closer is the pitcher who comes into the game in the last inning to protect the lead and finish off the win. It all comes down to the closer. If he does well the collective efforts of eight position players and the pitchers that proceeded will have a happy ending. If the closer fails all of that effort is wasted. There is nothing more demoralizing than playing a great game
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Regular readers of the humble ramblings know that the morning walk is my time to muse. Today an iPod tune and C.S.Lewis quote occupied much of the usually dormant gray matter. The song was from legend Bob Dylan and you likely know the words… How many years can a mountain existBefore it’s washed to the sea?Yes, ‘n’ how many years can some people existBefore they’re allowed to be free?Yes, ‘n’ how many times can a man turn his head,Pretending he just doesn’t see?The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind,The answer is blowin’ in the wind. A great song with a sad message. For many people their answers are blowing in the wind. Their lives bounce from one failed philosophy to another. Check the best selling non-fiction list for the last several years and you will see how common the “flavor of the month” answer to life has become. People are desperately searching for something to fill the emptiness that success
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April 15th is not my favorite day of the year. Tax day is never fun for a guy who is organizationally challenged. My idea of being prepared is having everything in one gigantic box. But I was heartened to find that April 15th is a great day for baseball fans.  Jackie Robinson made his major league debut at first base for the Brooklyn Dodgers on this date in 1947. It was a historic and significant day for baseball but maybe more so for our country. You can argue that the American civil rights movement was ignited when Robinson came to bat in Dodger Blue. The journey for Robinson was difficult at best and nearly impossible at worst.  Many Dodgers players, mostly Southerners led by Dixie Walker, threatened to walk if forced to play with a black player. That ended when Dodger management let them know in no uncertain terms that they could keep walking all the way to the unemployment
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No time to write day…so here is a personal favorite from the hermetically sealed vaults. The striking Mrs. Burchett accompanied me on a speaking engagement in Knoxville, Tennessee. We spent a few days at a cabin in Pigeon Forge and did the tourist thing. One of the highlights took me by surprise. My bride loves pottery so one of my “sacrificial” ways to love her is to accompany her to pottery shops. Guys refer to that as “hitting behind the runner” or “taking the charge”. We stopped by a local shop called Alewine Pottery and I was immediately fascinated by the open work area. There was the owner making vases and pots right before my eyes. Behind me were shelves of the finished products – colorful and beautiful and functional. I watched him take a nondescript piece of clay and skillfully make an unique and beautiful creation. The verse from Isaiah came to mind. O Lord, you are our Father.      We are the clay,
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Grumpy sounds better than synonyms like surly, peevish or ill-tempered. I saw this t-shirt recently. Sometimes I wake up grumpy….but sometimes I let him sleep. But is grumpy really harmless? Or is it an insidious and contagious viral mood destroyer? Okay, that was an overdramatic attempt to pull you into the blog but a story by writer Eric Adler in the Kansas City Star reports that a growing body of psychological research is bearing out the power one individual’s mood can have on others. That’s right, my friends. Grumpy people really are contagious! “It is one of the most robust phenomena I have ever seen,” said University of New Hampshire researcher Richard Saavedra. “And it’s all unconscious.” Purdue University psychologists presented their findings at the annual meeting of the Midwestern Psychological Association. Janice Kelly and Jennifer Spoor took 43 pairs of undergraduates and asked them to complete a task. One was designated the leader, the other the subordinate. The leaders were
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Today’s meditation comes from the a song that was released when I was three years old. Fifty-two years after The Platters released the song they appeared randomly on the trusty iPod during today’s morning stroll with dog friend Hannah. The song is written about a guy pretending to be happy when his love interest has left him. The lyrics to The Great Pretender led me to think again about one of my pet peeves in the churches of America. I get angry, frustrated and sad when followers of Jesus go to church and pretend to be something we know we are not. Okay all of the time. I have lived these lyrics out Sunday after Sunday for too many years. Oh yes I’m the great pretender Pretending I’m doing well My need is such I pretend too much I’m lonely but no one can tell We go to a place where honesty should be encouraged. Where shortcomings ought to be accepted. Church should be the
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Last winter I was killing time at Baton Rouge Airport before heading home. The airport is designed with a large central glass dome and some trees in the middle of the atrium. The early morning rush was over and the airport was surprisingly quiet. I heard something that caught my attention. Chirping. Not some bozo on a cell phone. Actual bird chirping. I looked up and saw what looked like a couple of sparrows flitting about near the top of the atrium. Somehow these wild birds had found their way inside the airport terminal. I watched them for awhile and I thought about how cold it was outside that day. I reflected on how “lucky” those birds were to be in a climate controlled atrium and not have to brave the elements. They could pick amongst the left over food of the travelers. Airport food might be wretched for humans but it was a feast for foragers. What a life! And then it hit me. That is what I
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