Christmas really is the most wonderful time of the year. I love the music, the memories, the traditions and the chance to annually think about Burl Ives. His memory came back again with the annual airing of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. That show first aired in 1964 and it has been a staple ever since. Ives is the voice of Sam the Snowman who narrates the “enhanced” story of Rudolph. Rudolph and his elf buddy Hermey don’t fit in with the others. Rudolph looks different than the others. Hermey is not interested in making toys. In an odd plot twist, Herme wants to be a dentist. Not surprisingly, his elf supervisor is upset with the unproductive Hermey. So the two outcasts set off to find their fame and fortune. The part of the story that resonates with me these days is when Hermey and Rudolph find their way to the Island of Misfit Toys. All of the toys on this island
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Buffalo Bill’s wide receiver Steve Johnson settled under a well thrown pass that would be the game winner against heavily favored Pittsburgh. The ball tumbled off the hands of the open receiver. Johnson sat in the endzone with a stunned look on his face. After the game he sent the now infamous Tweet questioning what God was up to. “I praise you 24/7!!! And this how you do me!!! You expect me to learn from this??? How??? I’ll never forget this!! Ever!! Thx tho.” A couple of things come to mind. One is that Twitter has officially ended the use of complete sentences for an entire generation. Second is that Steve Johnson may have chosen an odd forum to express his frustration but his response is not uncommon for honest believers. It makes sense in our performance based culture that if you commit to praising and proclaiming God that you should get a little something in return. Shouldn’t it go a little better for
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(This is a reprint from the iPod Devotional that is posted every Monday at theFish.com) I love watching the giant balloons of the Macy’s Thanksgiving parade floating through New York as wide-eyed children watch. I love the traditional football games. The official start of the Christmas season. The post feast nap. I love it all and Thanksgiving Day is fast approaching. Thanksgiving Song by Mary Chapin Carpenter captures the intimacy of this wonderful holiday. Grateful for each hand we holdGathered round this table.From far and near we travel home,Blessed that we are able. Grateful. That is a powerful word that is so easy to overlook in the tension of life and the depressing cycles of usually bad news. I have so much to be grateful for this Thanksgiving. I am grateful for another year with my best friend and bride Joni. I am grateful for three wonderful sons, two amazing daughter-in-laws and one soon to appear grandchild. I am blessed that
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My lovely bride Joni 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”. On a visit to scenic Waco eldest son Matt and daughter-in-love Holly took us to a working craft village called Homestead Heritage. If you visit Central Texas this hidden treasure is worth a trip for the restaurant alone. It is a delightful array of shops that features a working gristmill, cloth weaving and spinning wheels, a real forge and a pottery shed. I was fascinated by the open work area of the pottery shop. There were several artisans making vases and pots right before my eyes. Behind me were shelves of the finished products -colorful and beautiful and functional. I watched a potter take a nondescript lump 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, and you are the potter.     
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You have probably noticed that this has been Breast Cancer Awareness month. It was either that or pink is now the official uniform accent of the National Football League. I am one of many who is grateful for the commitment to find a cure for breast cancer. My wife is approaching the five year mark as a survivor. That would have been hard to imagine when we began that difficult journey. I decided to make it easy for anyone who wants to share what God has taught us with others that are currently going through this trial. Here are some of the “cancer chronicles” that Joni and I penned during that time. Cancer is scary. The treatments seem overwhelming. A word of encouragement to those beginning the journey. Joni and I learned that God gives you the grace and strength to take this journey one step and one day at a time. You will look back at the end and wonder, “how
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I have established a couple of traditions in the short history of the humble ramblings. One of them is revisiting this post (with a couple of updates) every homecoming weekend at Baylor University. It is that time again. It is Homecoming this weekend at Baylor University in Waco, Texas. Thousands of alumni will make their way to Central Texas for the event. It seems odd to me that I am looking forward so much to this homecoming. The celebration is at a college that I did not attend. I’m not even Baptist, dadgummit (that is Baptist cursing). But my heart has become a part of the Baylor tradition. Why? I am the very proud father of three Baylor grads. I have invested time and more treasure (especially treasure) than I care to think about in Baylor University. It is a very special place for me. Each son has made relationships that have become my relationships. One found a wife there. All three have grown in wisdom and
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I cut my spiritual teeth in legalism but I knew there had to be a better way. I regularly demonstrated Paul’s Roman treatise that the law inflames the sin nature. My brazen combo of playing high school basketball on Wednesday prayer meeting nights and reading (gasp) the Living Bible nearly resulted in excommunication. I remember one seasoned saint self-righteously telling me that he only read God’s original Word. I asked him if he read the Hebrew or Greek texts. He looked at me like a Golden Retriever hearing a high pitched sound. We believed that we really were to be a “peculiar’ people. And we nailed it. We were spectacularly peculiar. We were so peculiar that most folks steered a wide path around our judgmental brand of faith. I thought of that verse from Titus that our pastor often referenced just in case our guilt meter was not peaking. Who (Christ Jesus) gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify unto
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