Can we talk for a moment about race, love and respect?

If you are reading this, you are a friend of mine.  We either went to school together, worked together, have gone to church together, are family, or have had our lives cross in some other manner.  I have friends who are white, Asian, Hispanic, black, and mixtures of all of the above.  I have family who fall into all of those categories.  I have two beautiful nieces who, had they been male, “would look like Trayvon.”

I spent my formative years in West Texas in the 70’s and 80’s.  My first true exposure to something other than Caucasian and Hispanic culture came in the second grade.  Lubbock was kinda late to the school integration thing.  They began enforcing a policy of cross-town bussing.  The idea was to take kids from different parts of town, put them in school together, and let them grow up not knowing they were different.  This was a laudable goal.  However, cultural bias had set in even by the second grade.  You might be surprised though.  It wasn’t the white kids picking the fights. 

Every morning, I boarded a bus at Haynes Elementary which was three or four blocks from my house.  We then made a very slow 30 minute drive to Wheatley Elementary.  On the first day of school, kids piled off the bus and wandered into class.  On the first day of class, we were told to find a seat and that would be our spot for the rest of the semester.  I plopped down in a seat, only to be told by a young black kid (possibly the first black kid I’d ever met) that I was in his seat.  Being a quiet, non-confrontational kid, I moved.  He then told me that was his seat too.  When I wouldn’t move a second time, he told me he was going to beat me up at recess.  That was the start of a several week series of recess fights.  I never initiated them.  Those of you who know me well know that I don’t start fights.  However, I did stick up for myself.  Was this all race-based?  No, I don’t think so.  Some of it was that this kid was just a mean kid.  However, some of it was because I was a white kid in his territory. 

Towards the middle of that year, my folks moved us to the little town of Wolfforth, Texas: essentially a bedroom community right outside of Lubbock.  Our school district, Frenship ISD, was a bit unusual for that area in that time.  We had fairly well-to-do kids whose parents owned local businesses, farm kids, kids of plain old workaday folks, kids of migrant laborers, and kids whose parents were stationed at Reese Air Force Base.  While leaning heavily to WASP-ish demographics, there were a pretty good mix of races and economic backgrounds.  I never even thought twice about my friends with different skin colors and last names of different backgrounds.  This had to have been a huge leap from the Texas of the pre-1970’s. 

Between then and now, my extended family has grown to include a black brother-in-law, a Hispanic brother-in-law, and a Vietnamese sister-in-law.  I have beautiful nieces and nephews who are mixes from the marriages of those family members and other members of my family.  I love them all.  I also have friends from my church, good friends, from various races and nationalities.  We are there for each other, give each other good natured ribbing and are family to each other because most of our genetic families are far way.

Now, I see people who normally seem to get along quite well just spouting hate because of the stupid act of one young man.  The young man (with Hispanic heritage and a Caucasian surname) followed another young man ( a young black man) and now one of them is dead.  The other’s life is forever altered, arguably ruined.  Did Zimmerman racially profile Trayvon?  Possibly, even probably.  Did he exercise extremely bad judgment in getting out of his car when the cops told him to stay in the car?  Unquestionably.  Did he commit second degree murder or manslaughter?  The honest answer is we don’t know.  We can’t, don’t and will never know.  Therefore, the jury did what the law requires them to do.  It found him not guilty.  This doesn’t mean they like what he did (or might have done).  This doesn’t mean that those six white women on the jury hate young black men.  This means that the State of Florida did not prove beyond a reasonable doubt that Mr. Zimmerman committed the crime for which he was charged.  Reasonable doubt, while not always equitably applied, is the thing that makes our justice system so much better than most.  It keeps the court of public opinion from condemning people who may not have necessarily committed a crime.

My problem is not about what Zimmerman did or didn’t do.  I don’t even want to get into why he went after Trayvon or whether Trayvon was a good kid or not.  My problem is that people are talking about the “United States of AmeriKKKa.”  My problem is that people are quoting Ice Cube in saying that this is what “they” think of you.  That is the basest racism.  Anyone who is behind riots and violence because they dislike the outcome of this trial is fomenting racial hatred.  Letting this drive a wedge between people (not black/white/Asian/Hispanic, but neighbors and friends) is the most ridiculous thing imaginable.  Whether you are right or left, democrat or republican, black or white, letting yourself be played by the media and anyone with an ax to grind is insane.

I further take issue with the fact that huge numbers of young black men have been killed by other young black men and nobody seems to cry much about it.  According to stats from the Philadelphia Police Department, 75% of the 324 murder victims in their city in the year of the study were young black men.  Of that group of murder victims, 80% were killed by other young black men.  That means about 194 young black men were killed by other young black men in one city in one year.  That is appalling.  Why isn’t there more outrage?  Why is there no call for this heinous genocide to stop?  I’m actually asking because I don’t know.  I suspect a large part is because it doesn’t play well in the press.  I also suspect it is because no political hay can be made.  You can’t very well set up an “us” against “them” divide when everyone is “us.”

I want my children, nieces and nephews to grow up in a country where they don’t hear hate-mongers (black, white or otherwise) and racists (black, white or otherwise) saying it’s all some other groups’ fault.  I don’t want my mixed race (black father and white mother) niece to look at my white niece and think “that’s the enemy.”   As of right now, when family gets together, those precious little ones love on us and each other and have a ball like the family they are.  My fear is that they will grow up seeing the hate-mongering on the news and begin to see one another as the enemy.

Friends and family, it all starts with each of us.  Your neighbor (black, white, or otherwise) is a person in their own right.  They are God’s child.  If you don’t believe in God, you’ll at least agree that they are a homo sapiens before they are anything else.  They all are worthy and worthwhile.  So why, please, why do folks immediately start seeing “other” when something like this comes up in the news.  Good grief, “we” are letting “them” play us like fiddles.  OJ, Rodney King, and now Trayvon and Zimmerman.  Every time something like this happens, people shut down.  They, or we, quit seeing each other as worthy people and go straight to exterior appearances.  They, or we, turn off our brains and start feeding from the intellectual trough of CNN, MSNBC, Fox News, or whatever our favorite news outlet is.  We let professional rabble rousers, entertainers and politicians lead us like sheep and tell us who we should love or hate.

Since you’ve read this far, I’ll bore you a bit further.  Yesterday, I saw at least a small hint of what I hope to see for our country in the future.  Our church offers a program to help the community in which it resides.  This program, Neighborhood Needs, offers food, clothing and other items to underprivileged and down on their luck folks in Southwest Fort Worth.  I have seen the program serve white, black, Asian, Hispanic, Bhutanese, Middle Eastern and other folks for years.  Recently, we have teamed up with the Tarrant County Food Bank to offer a once-a-month program called Mobile Pantry.  The food bank brings one or two trucks of food to our parking lot.  We help unload, set up tables, arrange a sign-in station, give out food and help folks get the food to their cars or to the bus.  People of multiple races from several denominations of Christianity and other religions show up to volunteer.  Yesterday, I had the privilege to serve with black, white, Asian, Hispanic, Indian and other folks.  We had volunteers ranging in age from my 11-year old son up to some ladies whose age I won’t guess because I don’t want to take a beating.  We served several hundred folks of at least as varied a background as those serving.  In that group, I can tell you that we had conservatives and liberals.  We had people who are for and people who are against gun ownership.  We had people who are for a greater government influence in our lives and people who want as little government as humanly possible.  We had some rather rich individuals and some startlingly poor individuals.  All that, and we were able to look right past our differences and see each other as neighbors.  I didn’t see any major arguments.  I saw humor, and love and honor.  I saw Christians helping Muslims and Muslims being gracious in accepting the help.  I saw a young Hispanic male helping an older black lady carry her food.

Please take a moment to reflect.  Please let God lead your heart and ask Him to slow your rush to judgment of anyone.  Please look to build bonds with your neighbors.  Please look to make this nation what our Founding Fathers wished for it to be while being able to have an even greater understanding of what a neighbor is than they did.

Broken World

In my last post, I wrote about broken people.  I specifically discussed the young men behind the shooting in Newtown, Connecticut and the stabbings in Cypress, Texas.  In the time since that post, we have seen more evidence of broken people.  We've seen the two misguided brothers who set off bombs near the finish line of the Boston Marathon and another fellow decided to send letters laced with Ricin to our president and a couple of senators.  None of these crimes have any commonality of motivation (at least none put forth in the media) or method (gun, knife, bomb and poison).  All have been perpetrated by broken people upon their “neighbors.”  Again, these are broken people committing these acts.

However, in the same time frame, we've seen occurrences that have had much greater human tolls in terms of death and devastation.  There was an earthquake on the Iran/Pakistan border where at least 30 were killed and more were wounded.  A fire led to an explosion at a fertilizer plant in the small town of West, Texas.  There are 14 confirmed dead, as many as 60 missing and possibly dead, and more than 150 wounded.  An earthquake in the Sichuan province of China has just occurred.  They are estimating more than 100 dead and more than 2,000 injured.  These events are happening at nearly all points of the globe.  These are events not caused by malicious acts, though they are investigation the fertilizer plant explosion.  These are events that happen in a broken, fallen world.

In so many ways, our world is beautiful and awe inspiring.  Look at the sunset over the ocean.  Go see the Grand Canyon.  Watch a deer timidly come out of the protection of the woods to look for its breakfast in a field.  See the wonder of the Aurora Borealis (Northern Lights).  All can be beautiful, heart warming and amazing.  However, someone may be drowning in the ocean over which the beautiful sunset is occurring.  A flood from a river carving a beautiful canyon can destroy lives and property.  That deer may be attacked at any moment by a mountain lion.  The Aurora Borealis is just a symptom of the radioactive attack of the sun on the earth.  There truly are two sides to every coin. 

I do not believe that this is what God truly wanted for us.  In the beginning, He made a beautiful place for His children.  He made it as lovingly and as caringly as he made them.  He wanted to be able to spend time with them in a place of beauty and majesty, and He wanted them to be able to feel safe with them.  However, God wanted us to freely make the choice to love Him and be with Him there.  He gave us the option.  When we (and I refuse to throw Eve, or women in general, under the bus here: we all make the same choice in our lives) chose to look for our fulfillment outside of Him, he pushed us out of his “throne room” with regret.  The broken world we all suffer came about as a consequence of the choices we make.  Man’s rejection of the Father broke his heart and caused the breaking of man and the world.

At this point, it would be easy to blame God.  “He is so mean.”  “Why would a loving God allow these things to happen.”  “If God is all-knowing, he should have known we would break his heart and force his hand.”  “Why can’t God just forgive us and fix all of the wrongs in this world.”  But, you see, God still show us how much he loves us.  He lets us see the beautiful side of the coin.  We get the sunsets, and the beautiful scenery.  We get to have lifelong loves and friendships.  We get to know what a joy it is to hold our child close and hear them say, I love you.”  We have been given so many beautiful things in this broken world.  The brokenness of the world means that we may temporarily lose some or all of these things, but this is where God’s greatest grace comes in.  He gives us the chance to go back into his throne room when our time on this broken world is over.  He loved us so much that he came bodily to this broken and sullied world.  He spent time with us.  He lived for us and then died bodily for us.  He took our sins and burned them for us. 

He has left us with a choice again.  All we have to do is accept His grace.  This choice is so much easier than the last one.  The last choice was an all or nothing choice: perfection forever, or banishment to a broken world.  This choice is so much simpler.  All He wants us to do is accept him.  He will take us, warts and all.  His heart has been broken, but he still wants us.  He loves us so much that he gives us the chance to improve our broken world.  No, we won’t be able to stop the “natural” tragedies.  But we can have such an impact on the broken people.  He has given us the clarion call to be a light on the hill.  We can share Him with others.  We can bring others out of brokenness and into his forgiveness and redemption. 

We will still not be perfect, nor will the people we bring to Him, not while we are still on this broken world.  But we can truly know what it is to be neighbors.  God, in the person of His Son Jesus, was once asked what the greatest commands were.  He said that the first was to love God with all you are.  But He quickly said that the second command was very close in importance.  That command was to love your neighbor as yourself.  When you think about it, this can be an extension of the greatest commandment.  If we love our neighbor as much as we do ourselves, we will want to share God with them.  We will want them to be able to escape this broken world.  If we do that, we've helped someone else follow the greatest commandment.

Please pray for your neighbors.  Yes, I mean the people who live around you.  Get to know them.  Cheer them on in life and learn to love them.  I also mean for you to pray for your neighbors in the broader sense.  Pray for the guy in the cubicle next to you at work.  Pray for your mailman.  Pray for the checkout lady at Walmart.  Pray for the rude person on the customer service line when you call in.  Pray for them and love them.  Remember that they have God’s love and deserve it no more or less than you.  If God loves them, we shouldn't do any less.  Pray for people you disagree with religiously.  Pray for people you disagree with politically.  Pray for people you disagree with philosophically.  Pray for people who root for a different sports team than you do (yes, even the Aggies ;-) ).  I am slowly beginning to find that if I pray for them, I have a harder time being so harsh in my judgment of them.  I hope to find that it will make them easier to love.  It hope it makes me easier to love.  On that note, pray for me when I’m not all I should be.

Broken People

Broken people call His name

Helpless children praise the King

Nothing brings Him greater fame

When broken people call His name

Lift high, your chains undone

All rise, exalt the Son

Jesus Christ, the Holy One

We lift our eyes to You

Sinners all exalt the Son

Your ransom paid and freedom won

We will see His Kingdom Come

When sinners all exalt the Son

Lyrics to Lift High by Steve Fee

This song is really speaking to me today because we are truly a broken people.  Yesterday, a student at the Cypress, Texas campus of Lone Star College stabbed 14 people before he was taken down by other students.  He has now told police that he has fantasized about stabbing people since grade school. On December 14 of last year, a young man took the lives of so many children and faculty at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut. This was a person with a history of just not fitting in.  Every day, people molest children.  People destroy each other's lives for no reason other than to prove themselves to a gang or a group of friends.

We, as Americans, have long been proud of our independent spirit.  In fact, our favorite national holiday is Independence Day.  Many things about having a spirit of independence are good.  It is great to be willing to roll up our sleeves and get to work.  It is great that we don't feel the need to do what others are doing, especially when they are doing something we see as wrong.  However, we've badly mutated the concept of independence.  We've taken away the positive attributes of independence and replaced them with self-absorption and complacency about the needs of others.  

We don't believe in any standards, except those we set for ourselves.  We don't see the need to help our neighbors.  That is the job of the government or "someone else."  We don't look out for the poor and downtrodden.  And as an "independent" person, I certainly can't take my problems to anyone else.

If we have no one greater than ourselves, we have no one to whom we can turn when we have struggles.  If we think there is no right and no wrong, we lack a standard against which we can all be measured.  We don't want others bothering us about our lives, and we don't want to pester other people about their lives.  We don't want our imperfect neighbors to tell us what to do and how to live our lives.  We certainly don't want a perfect God telling us what is best for us.

The following is from Proverbs 1:

²⁴ “Because I called and you refused,
I stretched out my hand and no one paid attention;
²⁵ And you neglected all my counsel
And did not want my reproof;
²⁶ I will also laugh at your calamity;
I will mock when your dread comes,
²⁷ When your dread comes like a storm
And your calamity comes like a whirlwind,
When distress and anguish come upon you.
²⁸ “Then they will call on me, but I will not answer;
They will seek me diligently but they will not find me,
²⁹ Because they hated knowledge
And did not choose the fear of the Lord.
³⁰ “They would not accept my counsel,
They spurned all my reproof.
³¹ “So they shall eat of the fruit of their own way
And be satiated with their own devices.
³² “For the waywardness of the naive will kill them,
And the complacency of fools will destroy them.
³³ “But he who listens to me shall live securely
And will be at ease from the dread of evil.”

I don't think we are beyond hope.  I don't yet think that God is ready to "laugh at your calamity."  But, I do know that repercussions are happening because we have turned away from God's authority.  We have turned away from loving our neighbors as ourselves.  We have turned away from doing unto others as we would have them do unto us.

The problem is not that we have guns, knives, cars or other possible objects of mayhem in the hands of the people.  The problem is that we are broken and refuse to admit it.  Until the collective "we" (not the government, but our communities) decide to be neighbors, we will never be healed of our brokenness.  Had the neighbors, family and friends of the young men in Cypress and Newtown been more involved in their lives, we might have avoided tragedy.  Had someone looked into their well-being (not as a duty, but out of love), those young men might have been made whole.

I am the chief of sinners in this regard.  It is no fun to ask someone how they're doing when you know the answer will be anything other than, "fine."  We need to get out of ourselves and love others.

Please join me in prayer for our collective brokenness.  Pray for individual and national healing.

Back in Action

Though my last post said it had been a long time since the last post, I believe I shall have to redefine the term.  It's been about 5 years since my last post.  A lot of water has passed under the bridge.  My life has changed.  My world has changed.  The changes have ended up for the better, but changes are rarely fun in the event.  We typically only appreciate changes after the fact, even good ones.

The one thing that hasn't changed is God.  We can and do call His three parts by so many names: God, Father, Abba, Jehovah, Yahweh, Elohim, Adonai, Jesus, Holy Spirit, Daddy, Savior, Redeemer, Yeshua, Son of God, The Trinity, El Shaddai, El Roi, and so many more. God is mighty.  He forgives.  He went through the ordeal for a life and painful death on earth for me.  Had I been the only one in need of his grace, he still would have done so.  He would, and did, do the same for you.

I've been a Christian for most of my life, but I am a spiritual infant in so many ways.  I spent so long avoiding my own issues (the plank in my own eye) and being judgmental about others (pointing out the speck of wood in other people's eyes) that I spared very little time for growing in Him.  I was so full of self-loathing that I felt unworthy of God's grace and didn't want to call His attention down on me.  On the surface, that is so ridiculous for two reasons.  One: God sees and knows everything.  Two: God has already forgiven me.  God is Love.  I am now beginning a slow journey to peace in God.  He has always been there, holding out his arms for me to fall into.  My vision is just now clearing enough to see it.

A few weeks back, we were blessed to be able to attend a Chris Tomlin concert.  For those who don't know, Chris is a gifted Christian musician.  In the middle of the concert, the music stopped and they introduced a man named Louie Giglio.  Louie is a Christian minister at a church in Atlanta.  He spoke about three of the parables in the new testament: the parable of the lost sheep, the parable of the lost coin, and the parable of the prodigal son.  These are parables that most Christians know well and have heard lessons on all of our lives.  However, Louie brought to light a new way (for me) to look at these.  Louie said that these parables are most important in what we see God doing in them.  In the parable of the lost sheep, the shepherd is the stand-in for God.  The woman in the story of the lost coin and the father in the story of the prodigal son do the same.  In all three cases, the stand-in for God is blessed with many blessings other than what has been lost to them.  The woman, though she has lost one coin, still has 9 more.  The shepherd has 99 sheep in addition to the lost one.  The father has his older son and his fortune in addition to the lost (or prodigal) son.  However, in all of these cases, the stand-in for God is searching earnestly and waiting anxiously for the lost one.  This can be a new way for many of us to look at both the old and new testaments of the Bible.  Though God already has the "good" people, he is still anxiously waiting for me to accept His help.  God is so good!

I've always looked at the laws and requirements of the old testament and thought how glad I am that I was not an old testament Jew.  I mean, can you imagine the onerous nature of keeping up with all of the laws and sacrifices?  On first inspection, one might ask why an Almighty God would force His followers to follow all these tedious laws and sacrifice for so many things.  However, when I look at things in this new light, I don't see God forcing His people to follow these seemingly petty rules for His own benefit.  He had them go through these things for their benefit.  These were God reaching for us, and yet wanting us to come to him freely.  Each of the tasks required of them were a means of having them think about Him.  As designed, the sacrifices required the Israelites to remember their Holy Father and should have made them think on His power, mercy and grace.  The restrictions should have drawn their thoughts to Him instead of selfishly thinking of their own desires.  These are early examples of God going out of His way to have us spend time with Him.  He was not trying to "take all the fun out of life," but to expose them to the much greater joy of His presence.

We belong to Him.  We are His.  We were His from the beginning, but he bought us again at the horrible cost of sending His Son to be a sacrifice in our stead.  We are not worthy, but through Him.  Know that you are precious to Him, and that should give you perspective any time you suffer a bout of self-loathing.  I know it helps me to know that He loved me that much.  If the Creator of everything loves me that much, who am I to hate myself?

It's Been a Looooong Time..............

Since my last post, things have been really rocking along. Let's see, first I was not able to ride in the 2007 Hotter'n Hell 100. Unfortunately, I had to travel on business that week... ...to Santiago, Chile. Poor, poor pitiful me. ;-)

The South America trip was a neat deal. I was down there for the first time setup of the High School Musical ice show. I performed the structural analysis on the stage lighting roof grid. I was asked to make the trip to verify that it was put together and loaded the way we intended. The country is beautiful. The city has a very interesting feel mixing old world and modern.

The people are reasonably friendly, but are very non-plussed by Americans. While not as unfriendly as I understand the French are concerning the barbaric, English-speaking Americans, they have no interest in even trying to understand English. Rightly so! I was in their country and needed to make the effort to make myself understood in Spanish. I only wish that immigrants to our country would have the same consideration. I did fairly well at recalling the Spanish I learned in high school and at construction sites. Making the effort, however haltingly, to speak the language, had most people acting pretty friendly. Only a few of our party knew much Spanish. Sadly, I was the most frinedly. There were a few comical misunderstangs, but no tragedies. I think that if I were immersed into the language and culture, I would be fairly fluent in a few months.

The one thing that made me stand out most was my size. The Chileans are the most uniformly short of any people I had ever been around. The Mayans in southern Mexico are shorter (sub 5 footers), but there are plenty of other, larger, Mexicans around to even it out. Pretty much everybody, male and female, was about 5'-2" and about 130 pounds. The people also had fairly uniform coloring and features. I was told that this in large part due to the fact that the racial mixing happened a long time ago. The Spanish and the natives interbred centuries ago and there has been relatively little influx of other groups since. The Andes and the ocean prevent casual crossing of the border by other South Americans. I am a 6'-3", 240-pound mut. I literally stood out in the crouds. A few women on the subway would turn their children away from me as if I was going to hurt them. I actually asked one taxi driver where he guessed I was from. He said that if my Spanish was better and Chilean accented, I might have passed for one of the members of one of the few European enclaves living in Chile. Otherwise, he would have guessed me to be from the Netherlands. I've always assumed I looked overwhelmingly American, but since we Americans are muts, that doesn't necessarily mean anything.

The least appealing part of the trip was the very open attitude of the Chileans to sex and any of several alternative lifestyles. There were what amounted to pornographic photographs on the front page of the paper at all the newstands. One set of parents had no problem with their little one thumbing through a pornographic magazine. I'll grant that I am from the American South and am a conservative Christian. This colors my perspective. Even so, the fact that children are so apparently typically exposed to that makes me very uncomfortable.

I had one day during the trip to see a lot of Santiago. I traveled around the town with one of my clients and his wife. We traveled via the amazingly clean subway to many (though by no stretch of the imagination, all) parts of the city. We went to the old town square. We saw the ancient (by New World terms) main cathedral. It was a beautiful piece of architecture. We went to the main museum outlining the history of the city. We went to a very modern mall. We ate at typical Chilean restaurants. We ate a McDonalds. We ate at a Brazilian churascaria. We even ate at an English pub. Now let me tell you, the Chilean interpretaion of already bad English food is really bad.

When I was to leave, the plane broke. Yes... ...it broke. When they went to start the plane, it fried the electrical system. We were pushed back an entire day. So, we had a day to go tour some of the amazing wineries in the countryside within 50-60 miles of Santiago. They were tucked into the foothills of the Andes. The scenery was beautiful and the wine was amazing. The shear amount of land under cultivation for grapes was amazing.

As for the rest of the last year: work has been very busy and profitable; our family has had a lot of fun together; our kids of done amazing things in and out of school; and I have managed to fit in a decent bit of riding, if not as much as I might have wished. I'll expand on the other family happening later. I'm tired of typing at this point.

Back Up To Speed

Well, since my last post I've done a good bit of riding. I rode in the Germanfest rally in Muenster, Texas. That was 64 miles of really hilly riding. I've ridden around town a good bit as well.

During the first weekend in May, I did the MS150. That was 2 days of windy, wet fun in North Texas. It was only a 75 mile ride each day, but the wind and rain made it a bit more taxing than it might have been. That said, it was probably the best organized event I've attended. 3,000 riders were taken care of by an army of volunteers at registration, rest-stops, the overnight facility and the finish line. The intersections were well marked and controlled by peace officers. I was truly impressed. If all fund-raising events were that well put together, fund-raisers in general might be better attended.

I have now told the kids that I won't go to another rally or race until the end of soccer season (mid-June). Who'd haver ever thought that I would consider it a sacrifice to not attend a strenuous day of bicycling. I will still be riding, just not at events taking place during soccer games. This past weekend, both kids played very hard at their respective games. It is a joy to see them enjoying themselves and getting good exercise at the same time.

To Mineral Wells and Back

I'm trying to get myself in good enough shape that the MS150 won't kill me. That ride will be a 2-day, 150 mile ride taking place the first weekend in May. The Ride for Heroes a few weeks back told me that I need to jack up the training regimen. With that in mind, I did a nice long ride yesterday afternoon. I parked my truck at a store off of I30 just outside Loop 820. I rode to the far side of Mineral Wells and back from there.

From where I parked, there are good access roads for the interstate all the way to Weatherford. Highway 180 goes from Weatherford to Mineral Wells and has nice, wide shoulders the whole way. The whole ride is about 80 miles round trip. The whole route is rolling hills with a few either very long or moderately steep hills along the way. As I've noted before, hills are not my friends. That being said, the outbound leg went pretty well and I averaged about 19 miles per hour. There was effectively no wind and I was fresh.

Just about the time I turned around, the wind kicked up to maybe 10 miles per hour. It wasn't much, but it was something else to contend with. The ride back just about killed me. By the time I was halfay back, I started wishing I had opted for a shorter route. I went so slow that my average speed had dropped to 17 miles per hour by the time I got back to my truck. While that ride may not have been one of my shing moments as a cyclist, I did at least get the miles under my belt.

Next weekend, we are going to West Texas for my niece's first birthday. I will take the bike along and get a good ride or two in while we are out there. The following weekend, I will be ride in the Muenster German Fest ride. It is about 60 miles through some fairly tough, hilly country. The weekend after that, I ride in the MS150. I think that I will have trained well enough to complete the ride without too much trouble.

Ride For Heroes

Well, I partici;ated in my first group ride of the year. I had initially intended to run in the H.A.N.K. (Helping Another Next of Kin - a foundation whose purpose is to financially help the families of wounded or killed police officers in Tarrant County) 4 Mile Run this weekend. But, my bike wreck a few weeks back sort of set my knees back on the recovery schdule. I felt like I might complete the run, but would be in lots of pain.

So, at the last moment I signed up for the Ride For Heroes. This event is a fundraiser to help the volunteer fire departments of east Parker County. I thought that if I couldn't participate in an event for one good cause, I'd do another. Keith Hollar had really recommended this event and said that is well put together and worth doing. There are several courses you can choose from: 8, 20, 32, 40, 52, 64, and 75 miles. Being the stud athlete (if you can't tell, this is an example of that bit of nasty humor they call sarcasm) that I am, I rode the 75 mile course. Now bear in mind, I haven't ridden anything longer than 40-50 miles since October. And, I hadn't done those nearly often enough. But, "I can gut it out."

Well I finished, but "gut it out" is the right term. The ride was a lot hillier than I expected with a lot of long slopes. There was also a good bit of wind. Somewhere around mile 50 I started thinking, "I'm gonna have to call someone to come get me." I kept repeating the mantra, "Please don't cramp!" to my legs through a series of particularly nasty hills. At the 60 mile rest stop, I sat down for about 5-10 minutes and just chilled out. After that, I felt a lot better and finished up with a lot more speed and power than I thought I had left. This was a wakeup call. I am going to have to seriously get training before I do any competitive rides this year. I rode some this winter, but not nearly enough.

All that being said, I perversely enjoyed myself. As I've heard someone say, "A bad day on the bike is better than a good day in the office." Also, the ride was as well put together and organized as Keith had said.

Best Ride In Months and a Fun Time With My Boy

Yesterday afternoon, I had the opportunity to take a nice ride on the bike. I had already had five rides in the previous seven days, which is something I have not been able to do in some time, due to weather constraints. The wind wasn't too bad. It was neither too hot nor too cold. Shorts and a cycling jersey were sufficient attire. I took a route that led me on a loop south of town, back up into downtown and then back to my house. It wasn't a particularly long ride, but it was awesome! I rode 39.92 miles in 2 hours and 20 seconds. I haven't been able to maintain that speed over a long distance in a long time. It felt good!

When I got back to the house, I got a shower and changed clothes. Then, I packed up my little boy and his bike and we went to the park. I wound up jogging about a mile and a half chasing him around on his bike. He had fun honking his little bike horn at all the other cyclists, walkers joggers and folks playing in the park. Once he tired of riding his bike, he went and played on all the playground equipment.

After playing at the park, we wnt to Sonic and had, as my wife likes to call it, a frozen dairy confection (ice cream, or in this case we shared a vanilla malt). When asked what he wanted, he told me that he wanted whatever I was having. It really hits me at times like this the responsibility I have to my kids, particularly to my son. He wants to be like me. He wants cycling clothes like mine. He wants to wear matching clothes to church on Sunday. It reminds me to watch what I say and do. He is always watching me. It seems to me there are more than a couple of songs written wbout this very phenomenon.

Father/Daughter Banquet

Last night, I had the pleasure of escorting my beautiful little girl to the Father/Daughter Banquet put on by her school. Caitlin was beautiful. Her Mama had made her a very intricate embroidered silk dress and then done her hair up in a gravity-defying do. I dressed up, brought her roses, opened doors for her and thoroughly enjoyed the evening.

The meal was nothing to write home about, and neither was the entertainment. Heck, they even had me give a little impromptu speech about my little girl, so you know the entertainment budget was low. But, none of that was the point. The point was spending time with my little girl and making her feel like this was a special evening just for her.

My wife has made the point that little girls grow up and look for men who will treat them like their Daddy did. That puts a little pressure on dads, but it is a good kind of pressure. Just like we should always remember to treat our wives with the same love and respect Christ gave his bride, we should treat our children as individuals worthy of love, respect and attention. I was somewhat saddened when two of the fathers spent the entire evening talking about football and NASCAR and basically ignored their daughters.

My fervent hope is that my kids can look back on their childhood with fondness and want their children to have similar experiences.

Windy Weekend For Ridin'

This past Friday, I had planned to get in a nice long ride before work. When I woke at 4:00 a.m., it was 15 degrees and windy. I rolled over, climbed back in my warm covers and got some more sleep. Saturday morning, it was a little better. It was about 35 degrees and blowin' about 10 mph. I got a 38 mile ride in before the fam was ready for breakfast. I didn't melt my tires with speed, but I got some miles under my belt.

Later that morning, I took my son to the bike store to poke around a bit and then we went to the park (my daughter had spent the night at a friend's and my wife was hosting a ladies' party at the house). We really had a good time. My little boy is a fun kid, particularly when he gets me all to himself.

Sunday morning was another aborted ride. I had slept poorly and decided not to ride then. The previous night's news had said that Sunday afternoon wasn't gonna be too windy, so I pushed my ride back until after church and lunch. The news was wrong. The wind was between 15 and 20 mph with gusts a lot higher than that. By the time I made it home, I was thrashed. My legs were cramping and I was ready to get off the bike. Part of that is the fact that I had ridden two days in a row after a couple of months of not riding more than twice in a week. Part of it was the wind and the hilly route I took. Still, I thoroughly enjoyed myself. There's a peace out on the bike that I'm hard-pressed to find elsewhere.

As the weather is warming up a bit, I intend to try and get 3-5 long rides a week to work back up to some long rides. There's a metric century (100 km) ride I plan on making in April. I will also be riding the MS150 (a 2-day, 150 mile fund-raising ride for MS). Of course, I will also be riding in the 2007 Hotter'n Hell 100 in August. I hope to get some other organized rides in between now and then.

Life Ain't Bad

You know, there was a point in our lives where it seemed like nothing could go our way: our daughter was born incredibly premature and both she and Erin nearly died in the process; we lost two babies in miscarriages; my grandmother died; my father was dignosed with and died from melanoma cancer; my uncle died; my good friend, Mark Auer, died; another uncle died; my truck was stolen; our son was born incredibly premature and both he and Erin nearly died in the process; and I basically had a nervous break-down and left my job. We withdrew. We held onto each other and pushed everyone else away. My spiritual life was essentially dead.

Cut to the present: I have a beautiful wife with whom I am desparately in love; we have two beautiful and healthy children; Erin and I each have small businesses that, if not making us wealthy, at least pay the bills; and my spiritual relationship with my Lord, while not what it should be, is much better.

Isn't it funny how, in such a short span of time, things can change so very much. I am not wealthy. Except to my family, I am not terribly important or influential. I hold no patents. I'm not on any boards or councils. But, I am content with my life. Sure, I strive to be more and better. But, where I am now is okay.

God, thank You for the many blessings You've given me. Hold me when I'm weak and use me as an instrument of Your love when someone else is weak.

K eith Hollar (http://hollarkeith.blogspot.com/ ) tagged me with the challenge to list 5 Things You May Not Know About Me.

I'm an awkward combination of somewhat boring and an open book. But, I'll give it a shot:

1. I was the drummer in my junior high's jazz band.

2. I turned down a football scholarship to attend the college my then future wife planned to attend.

3. I proposed to Erin at a scenic outlook in the Colorado Rockies. I was trying to propose at sunset and had to drive like a maniac chasing the setting sun up the mountains. Erin wasn't sure if I was breaking up with her or trying to kill us both. She head no idea I was trying to propose.

4. I have a not so secret urge to be a semi-pro cyclist.

5. I played a snowplow driver in a Christmas play put on by the Campus Advance ministry of Broadway Church of Christ in Lubbock.

I'm supposed to tag 5 more folks, but it looks like everybody whse blog I know has already been tagged.

Semi-Random Rant

Today, we had the first day in a while with no snow, rain or ice. It was even pretty sunny. It was a bit windy, but you can't ask for everything in the winter. So, out I go for the first long ride in a few weeks. Toward the end of the ride, I was worn out from the long ride and fighting the aforementioned wind. I came upon another cyclist and we played tag for a bit in the last few miles of my ride. About three miles from the house, we crossed over a low water dam of the Trinity River in Fort Worth. You go down a long ramp, cross over the dam, and ride back up another long ramp.

A guy on a mountain bike had been coming from the other direction and followed us down. Coming up the other side, he decided we were too slow and went right up the bank. Great, he's fresh, in a hurry and jumped past us. Then, he slows down. We get close and pass him, which apparently got his blood boiling and a minute later he comes barrellin past us and... ...you guessed it - he slowed down again. Normally, I would just have sprinted ahead and dumped the guy, but I was beat. Finally, after the fourth time he passed me and then made me get all over my brakes by slowing down right in front of my front wheel, I stepped up the pace just enough to leave him behind. I guessed he just wanted to tell his buddies he'd passed and stayed ahead of a couple of roadies. To tell you the truth, the speed he climbed that bank was pretty darn impressive. And, if he'd kept up the speed he made when he passed us, I would have been thoroughly impressed and then not thought anymore of it. At best, he blew past us and then was so winded he had to slow down. At worst, he was beeing a butt and just wanted to show us who was boss by making us work to keep from corn-holin' him.

I'd really like to run across this guy when I'm a litle fresher, or get him to tag along on a long ride to see how he does. Anyway... ...no point, just a rant.

What, no posts for 2 months and now 2 in one day?

Yep, that's right! I've been remiss in keeping this little online diary up to date. Being tagged by Jim about the Christmas songs awoke me from my lazy stupor. I'm not saying I'll post tomorrow, but I'll at least try to get this thing back up to speed.

Let's see, the last post was at the beginning of October. At that point, I had just finished my second 100 mile bike ride. Well, my cycling has tailed a bit off since then. Cold weather and a busy schedule have been the likely excuses. One other little issue occurred when I crushed one of the front cogs (gears) when I hit a brick in the middle of the road. I was able to pop the front wheel over it, but landed right on the large chain ring. I got to spend $50 for the new part. The guys at the LBS (local bike shop) were kind enough to not charge me labor.

For Christmas, I've asked for pretty much all cycling gear. Mainly, I asked for cold weather riding clothes. This will take away my whiny excuse that, "It's too cold." Well, Mom had me order what I wanted within her budget and it's already arrived. Erin also consented to spending a bit of money before Christmas so that I can get some rides in now. Mom got me the following: a skull-cap (kind of an ultra-thin ski cap to wear under the helmet in cool weather), a balaclava (like an ultra-thin ski mask for cold weather), some really warm cycling gloves and a cycling jacket. Before we got to talking about Christmas gifts, Erin had already bought me a long-sleeved compression shirt to wear under my jersey and some tights to wear under my shorts. While we were out looking for Christmas gift ideas, we ran across a really inexpensive set of padded cycling shorts and Erin said, "Let's get 'em." After Mom's stuff arrived, the only thing lacking was some insulated, windproof shoe-covers. You see, most cycling shoes let air flow through them like a net. This is a good thing in the Texas summer. It's a distinctly bad thing in the winter. Frozen feet ain't fun. Well, my long-suffering wife didn't give me any guff about getting those either. She's just glad I've found a hobby which will get me healthier and hopefully extend my lifespan a bit. That said, I probably oughta chill on the spending.

I've ridden my bike the last 2 mornings and love it. The cold weather gear makes all the difference. Wearing simple winter clothes can keep you warm (duh, that's why they're called winter clothes), but the cycling stuff isn't nearly as bulky and binding. I did find one disheartening thing though. Just a few weeks of slacking off on my riding produced a marked effect on my speed and stamina. Oh well, I'll have plenty of time to get it all back before the spring racing season begins.

Now, my father-in-law wanted to know what I really needed to complete my riding experience. What I needed was a new saddle (seat, for the cycling uninitiated). The saddle that came on the bike is great for short (15-20 mile) rides, but becomes a torture device on really long rides. The typical bike seat puts quite a bit of pressure on the perineum (sp?) in the groin area. In short, ya get numb where folks don't really wanna be numb. My father-in-law offered to buy me whatever I thought I needed (within reason). I shopped around online and found an awesome deal on a seat that I had read a lot of good reviews about. It was designed and tested by doctors and is used by a lot of racers. It'll be here in a few days. HMMMM, the new bike was a Christmas/anniversary/birthday/Father's Day/whatever day gift from Erin. The cold weather gear and saddle are Christmas gifts from my father-in law and mom. Christmas morning will not see me opening many gifts. Oh well, I'm grateful to be able to use them all now.

I'm actually thinking about getting a racing license and compete not just in group rides but in sanctioned races. We'll see. If it's worth doing, it's worth being obsessive-compulsive about.

Now that I've rambled on about cycling, on to the really important stuff. Erin and the kids are doing great. Erin's sewing/embroidery business is going absolutely crazy. She is so busy that she currently isn't taking any more orders until after New Years. She's enjoying the ego boost of getting all the work, but is a bit overwhelmed by the scheduling issues. She truly is amazing. She does all of her work work and still has time to be an amazing wife, mother and friend. I never cease to be amazed.

Caitlin and Collin just finished up with soccer a few weeks ago. They are absolutely having a ball in school. They are at such a fun age right now. They have such amazing senses of humor and have incredible spiritual insight for kids their age. I love spending time with 'em. I pray every day that they have an enjoyable childhood and grow up to love God as much as they do right now.

My work is also pretty busy right now. That's part of the reason I haven't been blogging and haven't been cycling as much. I've gotten a few new clients and seem to be getting more calls all the time. GOD IS GOOD!!! I am so blessed and hope every one has an amazing holiday season.

Tagged For Christmas Songs

Ok, Jim Theisen ( http://ftwskies.blogpot.com ) tagged me. Now, I'm supposed to post my favorite Christmas songs. Like Jim, I remember listening to a lot of vinyl albums at Christmas time. For you youngsters, a vinyl album (record or LP) is kinda like a really big, black CD. They used a real metal needle to read the music instead of a laser. Weren't them old-timers clever?

I remember my mom had an Elvis Christmas album -"I'll a'have a'a'blue Chrissmus wi'i'ithout youuu." That album was played until the grooves were worn out.

I love the song, "Mary, Did You Know," particularly the version done by Kathy Mattea. The song tugs on my heartstrings and Kathy's raspy voice really does the song justice.

"O Come O Come Emanuel" is great, as are "The Little Drummer Boy," "We Three Kings," "Oh Little Town of Bethlehem," and "Silent Night."

I'll confess that in recent years I've been a bit of a Scrooge about Christmas songs. So many radio stations want to start playing them so early. Like anything, repetition can wear out the welcome of even a good thing. I love hearing and singing Christmas songs for the few days before and after Christmas.

Flatland Century

This past weekend, we went to visit family in Lubbock, Texas. Erin's older sister lives in Portland, Oregon and her brother lives in Cambridge, Massachussetts. These weekend, they, Erin's younger sister, and we met at their mother's home in Lubbock. All things considered, the weekend went reasonably well. Being very diverse in ideologies, belief systems, political orientations, marital status, financial status, etc. has caused no end of discomfort and strife at some previous family getherings. This time, no one was overtly angry at the end of the trip. Still, we left feeling like everybody was at least mildly irritated with us. Is that paranoia, delusions of our own importance, fatalism, or the truth? Who knows?

One part of the weekend was an unalloyed success. While we were there, I rode my bike on a long trip. I left the house at 4:30 a.m. (that's the dark 4:30) on Sunday and headed southwest out of Lubbock. It was a little windier than I'd hoped so I didn't quite get the average speed of 22mph I'd hoped for. I rode 102.75 miles at an on the bike average speed of 19.8mph. I throw in "on the bike average speed" because I wound up making a few more stops than I would have liked.

One of those stops was when I had a flat right after my turnaround. So, I'm sitting there about to start pumping that new tube up when I looked up and saw a Godsend. A farmer who had been out early checking his irrigation was heading to pick up his kids and go to church. He saw me and asked if I needed to use the compressor in the back of his truck. That saved me wearing my arm out with that mini-pump. And those things never get the pressure up where you need it. Thank you Mr. Gomez.

I also stopped a few times to stretch my back a bit. So instead of 5 hours total time, it was closer to 6.

Cowtown Classic Bike Ride

This past weekend, I rode in the 2006 Cowtown Classic Ride. Despite the name, it does not take place in Fort Worth (also known as "Cowtown"). The ride began and ended in Crowley (just south of Fort Worth). There were several different routes, the longest of which was 65 miles. I rode that route.

The weather was perfect! There was good cloudcover. It was reasonably cool (high 70's to the low 80's). The wind was reasonably calm. It was great. The course wound over some decent hills (nothing huge, but enough to make you work through the gears some). All in all, I really enjoyed the ride.

The only downside was the course markings and a few traffic control situations. The road was marked with tiny arrows just prior to intersections to let you know which way to go. If you happened to miss them, you had to count on the peace officers at the intersections. At two intersections, the officers pointed us down the wrong road. Luckily, we figured out the mistake quickly both times and got back on course. At one intersection, the officer was getting something to drink from the rest stop and wasn't even there to direct traffic. Those issues aside, I really enjoyed the ride.

I finished the 65 mile course in 3 hours and 10 minutes with an average speed of 20.5 mph. For a while (through about mile 40), I rode in the lead group. I even took my turns pulling for a while. We averaged 23-24mph for a good ways and had some stretches where we sprinted upt to 30+mph. I was just glad to be able to keep up.

I did discover that I do NOT like chocolate Gu packs. Vanilla Gu packs are reasonably thin and go down with no problem. Chocolate Gu packs are thicker and can choke you up if you are breathing hard. I discovered this right before a set of hills. I couldn't get my breath and wound up falling out of the lead group. I never did catch back up.

HHH 2006

Well, we did it. Keith Hollar and I proved our lack of rational thought processes by riding in the 25th annual Hotter'n Hell Hundred on August 26, 2006. The event lived up to its name it was 104-105 with a heat index of 107+. There was a wind from the south of about 25-28 mph with gusts up to 35. It was hot, windy and dry. Neither Keith nor I won any awards for speediness, but we conquered the day by crossing the finish line.

I rode the farthest ride I've ever ridden at a reasonable clip. Before the ride, the longest I'd been on the bike was 67 miles. This ride turned out to be right at 103 miles. I finished in something like 6 hours, 50 minutes. My on the bike speed (wheels moving, not counting rest stops) was 18.4 mph. My total average speed (counting rest stops, slow start and all) was right at 15 mph.

To further prove our insanity, Keith has already done his standard Tuesday workout ride and I rode 38 miles on Wednesday morning. Let me tell you, after the HHH, 38 miles in 70 degree weather felt EASY! Hopefully, I'll particiapate in a group ride every month or so from here on.

New Bike's Here, Big Ride's Comin'

After several maintenance issues with my old bike, I finally ponied up and bought a "new" (to me) bike. It's a 2005 Trek 1200 (pretty nice aluminum-framed road bike with carbon forks and seat post) that was traded in after being ridden for about six months. The original owner decided to step up to a several thousand dollar carbon-framed bike. I reaped the fruits of his excess. Bicycles Inc. gave me a great deal on the bike, fitted it to me, and offered me 90 days worth of free maintenance and adjustments.

I rode it once on Sunday morning. I really enjoyed the ride, but took it back today for some slight adjustments to the derailleurs (the thing that moves the chain between gears) and shifters. I'm planning another ride tomorrow morning before work. The short ride I took on Sunday showed me a glimpse of what I think I'll see tomorrow.

The new bike is about 10 pounds lighter than the old one. It has 27 gears where the old one had 12. It has higher high gears and lower low gears. The frame is aluminum with carbon components, so it will be a little less rough than the old steel-framed bike. The wheels and tires can hold more pressure, so the rolling resistance will be less. All in all, I expect much better performance on the new bike.

As I've posted before, I will be riding in the Hotter'n Hell Hundred this Saturday. I previously said I was only going to ride the 100k, not the 100 mile. Now, I'm wavering. I've almost decided to ride the 100 miler. Both courses share the road for about 30 miles. At that point, you have to go with one group or the other. If I'm still feeling pretty salty, I think I'll go the 100 mile route. Hopefully, this won't be a decision I'll regret. Wish me luck.

-47 - I think I'll quit posting my weight loss at this point. I'm now to the point where I'm actually trying to gain muscle and expect to gain a bit.