Kyle Busch is a Jerk

OK.  This is not the most Christ-like attitude, considering Jesus loves Kyle and died to cover his sin penalty.  As a person of faith, I must try to see Kyle the way Jesus sees Kyle.

So, let's say, Kyle acted like a jerk when he smashed a priceless, hand-crafted one-of-a-kind Gibson Les Paul guitar he received as a trophy for winning last weekend's Nationwide race in the great city of Nashville.  Yup, smashed it into, well, a few large pieces.  Mahogany doesn't smash like, say, fir or ash or maple.  Kyle grabbed the priceless trophy by the neck and slammed it down on the concrete at Victory Lane 3 or 4 times, right in front of car and race sponsors- the folks who paid for the guitar.  They turned and left in disgust.  I would have, too.

That behavior makes me want to, to... 

I don't want to say.  Jesus said to love all people.  

But they ought to ban his sorry tail from racing in Nashville in any vehicle- NASCAR, Nationwide, Craftsman,  ARCO, even souped-up lawnmowers.  The insult and immaturity and disrespect he demonstrated is unforgivable.  I had to tell my children that his behavior was unnecessary and unacceptable.  That sorry dog.

When Jeremy Mayfield was suspended indefinitely for testing positive for methamphetamine, he shamed and disrespected himself.  That is his to bear.  But Kyle Busch disrespected all the craftsmen who designed the treasured guitar, as well as disrespecting the city of Nashville, all of the race sponsors, all of NASCAR Nation and the best of its time-honored traditions.  

The next race Kyle should run should be the Gerber's 100, with the trophy of a big fat passifier for Busch and his crew.

Busch explained his tirade as an attempt to break the trophy into small pieces to share with his crew.  Phhhtt.  Have you ever seen an Oscar winner smash his award on the red carpet?  Have you ever seen an Emmy or a Tony award in pieces, shared across the mantles of a dozen fireplaces of staff members who helped a young starlet to fame?  Absurd.  More so the behavior of Kyle Busch.

Grow up, Kyle.  Grow up or get out.  You represent the worst in this or any sport.

All that said, Jesus still loves us despite our behavior.  Smashing guitars and all.

Children's Day Camp

I volunteered to work with children.

Without tainting my reputation as anti-children,  you need to know that I don't work with them very long.  About thirty minutes once a week.  I volunteered to lead our Day Camp Chapel services on Wednesdays.

Yup.  9:05ish to 9:35ish.  Sometimes longer, sometimes shorter.  It depends on how the kids behave, on how prepared I am, and how long-winded I get.

Kindergartners through sixth-graders are in Chapel, and keeping everyone engaged is quite difficult.  But I am organized, prepared, and ready to go.

Why, you ask, would I volunteer for this ministry?

I volunteered because I knew there was a need for good worship and devotion time with these children.  A big percentage of these children do not attend church at all, anywhere.  This is a fantastic opportunity for someone to love on them and care for them, not to try to persuade them to believe what I believe, or to attend this church, or not even to get them to decide to believe in and follow Jesus.

This is an opportunity for me to love on some kids.  To give them a taste of what fun church can be. To practice letting God stretch me an areas where I need stretching.

Yes, I do hope they will come to our church.  I do pray that they will understand the love God has for all of us and give their little hearts to Jesus.  But I also hope they will know they are loved.

Let's face it-  I love Jesus.  I love kids.  I love to sing and talk about Jesus.

Day Camp- bring it on!

You Never Know

This morning I had the privilege of visiting some members of our church community who are in some of Tulsa's hospitals.  Our church is large (for a boy who grew up in the cotton fields an river bottoms of West Tennessee), and my ministry is rather specialized (media and music), so if you don't serve with me, I probably haven't met you yet.  Kinda sad....

Any way...

While walking through the maze of elevators and hallways that is St. Francis Hospital, I spotted one of our deacons, wearing shorts and a bermuda shirt, on his way to visit a friend and a co-worker.  We'll call him Jethro (not his real name).  Jethro, who I barely know, stopped me in the hallway to compliment my music leadership yesterday.  I used what grace I was taught in accepting compliments, and was very happy that the music meant something special to him.  

I went on my way, searching for obscure signs that lead visitors through the hallways, and ran into a couple from our church that I didn't know at all.  We'll call them Tony and Siva.  Tony and Siva were there to deliver flowers to church members, and to offer some fellowship and prayer for them.  They stopped me, even though they had never officially met me, to offer the same compliments as Jethro.  Again, I was as gracious as I could be in accepting their compliments.  

After thinking through those events, I have reached some conclusions that may help others in their own journeys....

1)  You never know how God can use a simple visit, gift, or prayer....

2)  You never know how your behavior and attitude can affect people in a positive way; it is not about me, anyway....

3)  You never know what impressions stay with people; never wear black socks with sandals, shorts, and a bermuda shirt.  It makes people wonder...

Regrets

From the time I was a young, optimistic teen, I have desperately tried to live my life so that as I faced the end of my earthly journey, I would have no regrets. Many times, that kind of determined, optimism is nearly impossible, resulting in just the opposite. Not accomplishing the goal of regretlessness may, indeed, lead to the biggest regrets of all.

Now that I am middle-aged, I have a much better perspective on my life, and I have more wisdom in planning and envisioning my life yet lived. And I begin to see regrets where I have never seen them before. I am experiencing that even today.

As a second-grade tow-head, I began to receive piano lessons. It was already obvious at that young age, that I would become neither scholar nor athlete. My determined mom wanted me to learn music. As a matter of fact, she was desperate for her children to learn to play piano.  No matter what happened in life, music could be a constant, permanent companion. That, and the fact that she never had piano lessons fueled her desire for her kids to learn to play. And so we did, even against our wishes. I spent many hours on the piano bench with my mom. Not with mom in the next room, nor even in the same room but another chair, but on the bench with me; a timer in one hand, a ruler in the other. The timer was so I would know when I had served my daily 30-minute sentence; you know what the ruler was for.  I often saw lessons as punishment;  in my mom's perspective, they were an investment.

Actually, I never really liked playing the piano. It was ok, but I could take it or leave it. Played some in high school in a rock band, but soon discovered there aren't many rock-and-roll pianists out there. I played some in college, even making piano performance my major for a semester. But I soon discovered how much easier it was to control one voice than eight fingers, two thumbs, two feet, and still turn the pages of my music. So I switched to vocal performance, and pretty much forgot about it.

About 6 or 7 years ago, it hit me.

I really fell in love with playing again. Serving as a Minister of Music in churches all my life, I have been around pianos, and worked with them every week. But again, my enthusiasm was underwhelming. And I can't really say what lit my fire for playing again; maybe I just woke up, or something inside my heart finally communicated with my head that playing was important to me. And I have enjoyed- no, been overjoyed- to have been able to play every week for the church I now serve. I love it!

I was fortunate here to meet and get to know a gentleman named Larry Dalton.  A concert pianist, a Steinway Artist, and a generally all-around, down-home good guy. Larry had a fantastic personality, and talent measuring off the charts.  A dedicated servant of Christ, Larry dedicated his life and his talents and skills to excellently performing his literature, all the while, recognizing the needs of those around him.  He toured more than 40 countries, and wrote and arranged for some of the biggest artists in music.  Yet he played our church a couple of times a year.  He travelled on mission trips, playing on everything from the greatest Steinway to junked-out pianos in storage basements. Larry was here just a few weekends ago, listening to our early band, and we had spoken about me taking lessons from him later in the summer.  He was scheduled to play here again in a few weeks for a fundraiser for a local women's shelter.

He was;  Larry died last weekend.

At a youthful 63, Larry's heart stopped beating while he was asleep.  As I write, I am editing video clips for use at his funeral and memorial services.  I see him from years ago, playing with the London Symphony.  In a church basement in Japan.  In our own worship center at a retirement celebration.  On television, offering worship music between interviews.  Larry developed his significant talent into skills beyond measure, and shared them with the world, while remembering the Savior whom he served.  

Um, yeah, back to the regrets.

Three regrets have been realized in the last few days:

  One, that as a college-aged adult, I did not take advantage of the gift my mom worked so hard to give me as a child.

  Two, that I did not know Larry Dalton better than I do.

  Three, that I do not have the resume of social and spiritual concern for the world as Larry did.

Each of those, I can change.  I am middle aged, and have learned to see a little better now.

Thank you, my friend.  For helping me avoid some regrets.

Mission Trip to Armenia and Israel

Last month, 270 Oklahomans travelled to Northern Europe for a music missions trip. I sing in a group known as the Singing Men of Oklahoma. Through almost three years of planning, praying, and preparation, we had developed an itinerary that included singing for over a million people in one day, and celebrating Armenia's most sacred national holiday.

Our director, Dr. Bill Green, has led concert tours all over the world, including Russia, Australia, and China. He is no stranger to international travel and works extensively with a fantastic travel company that makes our travel easy.

I will confess that I had many conflicting emotions prior to this trip; my family had several important events ahead, including an outpatient surgery for Jane, several college visits and forms for Andrew, all to be done while I was away. And you know, 6000 miles is a long, long way from home. Jane's parents are older, and anything could happen to them.... and on and on. I thought of hundreds of reasons why I should not go; however, in the end, my commitment to the group and commitment to taking advantage of every opportunity for ministry the Lord provided outweighed my fear, and I signed on.

We worked for a year, learning songs in Armenian for use at their largest national celebration. We saved our pennies and asked our churches for funding for the trip. $4400 was the cost, not including extra spending money for snacks and souvenirs. We worked with a local pastor (we'll call him Moe) and a local humanitarian aid worker (we'll call her June) to assist us in language interpretation, concert opportunities, and general history and geography. We really became close to these two servants, and would come to respect their work even more as our time there progressed.

Our goals were simple; to share Christ through music; to show our support of the Armenian people in their memorial day celebration; and to support the evangelical churches in Armenia in their ministries. We could not have been prepared for the joys nor the challenges and frustrations of this project. We have all been welcomed everywhere in the world we have performed. We were not prepared for the rejection and the negative press we would receive. But more on that soon.

Back on Board

Following a short hiatus that includes two weeks out of the country, I have some new fodder for blogging. It will take a few days to digest my experiences, edit for family viewing, and write in a hopefully interesting and captivating fashion. This could take a while.

I have just returned from a two-week concert tour of Armenia and Israel. Stay tuned, fans, for a day-by-day description of my activities, feelings, and thoughts are soon to be posted.

I'm glad I remembered my login...

Blessings, friends, for

LIFE IS GOOD!

The Crisis of Credit

This is an interesting explanation of the current Credit Crisis.... It is long, but it is worth the time for those who want to understand the history of how we got where we are...


The Crisis of Credit Visualized from Jonathan Jarvis on Vimeo.