That Promises To Be Fun. Church Fun Fest Update!11!!1!1

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I try really hard not to turn this blog into a cheer-leading center for my church, Shiloh Missionary Baptist Church. Today I am going to fail and just talk about the place I worship and why it grabs me by the heart.

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First, for all of you who are not complete internet jerks (like me) the !11!!1 thing is to show such irrational exuberance that you can’t even hold down the shift key while hammering out your stupidity. That would be me. I do that because I am more than a bit pleased to report two things:

I have lived long enough to enjoy a rap performance in honor of God by gifted amateurs.

My church’s fun-fest is going to be so un-lame that I really hope you come. I’ll describe it in a minute.

First, the young people of my church get to run things on the fifth Sunday of any month. Sometimes that means we go a while without them taking the helm. Sometimes it means that the older people are a bit nervous about what will happen. Other times, like this past Sunday, it meant that the whole place showed up in casual attire, the Holy Spirit rocked the audience, and 5 people came forward to be baptized.

It also meant that the young people’s choir (up to age 35 if I’m not mistaken) assembled and blew the doors off the church. I belong to one of those churches you see in the movies. Heck, in the last 6 months they even got robes. (Previously they all just dressed nicely. Robes weren’t really missed, the voices were so amazing.) We have an adult choir, a women’s choir, a men’s choir, a children’s choir, a worship team, and a young people’s choir. On occasion the pastor or assistant pastor will get up and sing the sermon. Music is huge at my church. I love it.

Back to Sunday. One of the young people got out in front of the choir and started to rap. I’m an old white guy: I’m not a great judge of the form and style involved. I’m not a fan of modern rap. I wasn’t a fan of early rap at the time (today’s hip hop makes me yearn for Run DMC…) and I’ve been subjected to some excruciating examples of worship rap over the past decade. Some examples were so bad that I considered faking a seizure on one occasion.

This was different: the choir backed her with vocals and a beat. She hit the notes with her words. She had a great voice. The words were uplifting. I enjoyed it and felt a rise of hope in my chest. If this could be so in my church, there was hope outside in the streets. Nothing says that any form of music, either rap or rock, must dwell on the negative. There’s tons of great worship music in modern forms. I’m just not a fan of the rap genre in general. So, except for the occasional Lecrae, Toby Mac, and whomeverelse that kicks one out I like, I’d not heard one done by a large group that I really liked. Thank you, Shiloh Young People’s Choir, for changing my experience. You were magnificent and I’d like to hear more like that in the future. Really good. Amazing. Etc.

Now, on to the fun fest. On July 26, 2014 we’re blocking off the streets around the church (yes, the police are in on the deal) and holding a festival where all are invited. That means the whole city. We’ll be at it for 6 hours, from 10 in the morning until 4 in the afternoon. Aside from the usual bouncy houses, vendors of trinkets, fire truck displays, etc., we have two things that I love more than most rational beings: FOOD TRUCKS AND GOSPEL MUSIC.

While they may not trip your trigger, I have insider information on both items. Yes, the food trucks will run a wide range of products. A final list will be available next week here on the blog. The Gospel music will be done on a stage at the back of the church where you can go and listen or ignore them by staying near the food trucks. The thing is, all of the choirs are rockers. This isn’t your mom’s church choir – unless your mom went to the church in the Blue’s Brothers. (Full disclosure: I have been to more than a few churches where members “fall out” like in this scene. All that was missing was the acrobatics. Me? I’m more like Elwood and his dance style. What can I say except it’s a great way to worship the Lord.)

This is shaping up to be a great day in every way. No price for admission, food trucks, music, basketball tournaments, fire truck displays, kid friendly events, and no pressure. Yup, we’re not out to make money or get you to join our church. It would be nice if you came to our services, but we’re there to introduce ourselves to the rest of the city (and metro area) and just have some fun. We wanted to invite our neighbors to join us at what promises to be a great party.

So, block out the 26th of July and come join us. Did I mention we’re kicking it off with a Zumba class sponsored by Taco Bell? (I wonder what mad genius suggested that…)

Scooby Snacks For Everyone!

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It is with great pleasure that I thank you all for boosting the monthly hits on this blog once again. We’ve not only got a lot of new readers, but a lot of really diligent, loyal fans who come back time after time.

I may joke about both of you reading the blog, but we’re consistently over 45,000 visits a month at this point. When I throw out the robots and random fluke big traffic days, that’s still 40,000 people a month who read this blog. Wow. I’m more humbled than you can imagine that you like what I write and come back for more.

I have to admit, it’s not easy during the summer to crank this puppy out. My day job is insane from April until September, and I’m a basket case when I get home. I try to give good content but the number of posts seems to have suffered a bit. I promise to try for three times a week every week. You deserve it based on your loyalty.

I do have a favor to ask: please subscribe via the box on the right. You plug in your email address, the machine sends you an email, you click the right links in the email and you are subscribed. About 10 seconds total. This means I’m less dependent on Facebook to get posts noticed. Facebook is charging money for me to reach readers. You will note the complete lack of advertising here – that’s for a reason: I am a control freak.

I don’t plan on taking ads on at this time. But costs being what they are, it may be a part of the future. I just can’t stand the idea of not controlling all the content. So, if you subscribe, and tell your friends about this blog, it helps me keep it ad free. I solemnly promise not to sell the list, or bug you with fundraising schemes. I will use the list to award prizes and promote my books (when they get published.)

You win, I win, Facebook loses. I kind of like that equation.

Most of all, my thanks for being there in the room with the blog. I love my audience and appreciate your reading my writing.

God Bless.

What Is Your Community Worth? An Hour? A Day? Or, Nothing?

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I live in a city in decline. We’re not Detroit, but there are a lot more empty houses in Saint Paul, Minnesota, than I’d like to see. Some are just slow to sell, some are orphans of banks, and some are simply abandoned. That’s the house next door to mine.

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My neighbor, a good guy with a slew of problems, passed away a few years ago. When he died he was deeply in debt, had a gigantic second mortgage that he’d been tricked into assuming, and no assets to fix the house up. It was sad to watch, painful to be around. I honestly think that this tsunami of debt crushed him spiritually. Combine the debt with the death of two of his adult children, both abrupt and totally unexpected, and he was at the edge. When the dog died the last bit of his motivation went with the dog dishes out the door to the rubbish can.

The house mirrored his demise. It is a lovely 100 year old brick home with some great features. But it wasn’t maintained. When he passed his surviving children didn’t want to assume the burden of the house and didn’t try to get it from the bank that held the paper on it at the time. That paper was tough to track: I wanted the house so I tracked it myself.

It lead to a dead end. The mortgage holders would not talk to me because I wasn’t on the mortgage. I explained that he was dead, as far as I knew the house was completely abandoned, and it would soon become the property of the city – they would see no payments. (And, truth be told, they hadn’t seen a penny in years, they’d just held off on foreclosure so their debt ratio would stay down.) The broken record response got tiresome. I begged to be allowed to buy the house. Finally, after one last call, I wished them luck as they would lose it all.

Two years passed and the house declined further. I’d gotten in before the winter hit that first year and drained all the pipes, got the utilities turned off, and even winterized the plumbing fixtures. I still held out hope that I might get the property some day.

For the next two years I mowed the lawn, picked up the trash, trimmed the hedges, shoveled the snow, called the newspapers and begged them to quit leaving copies on the sidewalk. (Those things jam snow blowers!) But it was to no avail, the roof started to crumble and the pigeons and squirrels moved in for a stay. I called the city and they made it an official abandoned building.

I kept mowing and shoveling and then someone broke in and started stripping the house. Bad timing, we were home. So, I got the pleasure of watching the cops scoop up these knuckleheads. But that forced the city to move into “demolish” mode. The postings went up and hearings were scheduled. I talked to neighbors about perhaps buying the place as a group and fixing it up. Good responses, they’d be there, etc.

I was the sole person in that hearing. I talked to the assembled city officials and asked that they try to get a buyer to fix it up – I preferred a neighbor over a vacant lot. But it came down to establishing a date for the bulldozers to come on in and do the job.

Then God stepped in and lent a hand. The one person who was late to the meeting took her seat. She was the historical preservation advocate. Not much hope there, it’s not a historical or unique building. But she read her report and it seems that the city has a vested interest in saving that house. It would be the first gap on my block if it was demolished, and the city thinks we’re viable. (We are – good neighbors!) So she asked if the county wouldn’t foreclose on it for back due taxes and then put it into their rehab program.

I lit up. I had a shot at it again for back taxes and property value. Or someone else did, but it would not be torn down if that happened. That’s what I wanted: a neighbor, not a vacant lot. I left that hearing with hope that my neighborhood might be on the cusp of turning around.

Because I spent 2 hours going to a meeting. And a few hours mowing lawns and blowing snow. And making sure burglars didn’t steal the plumbing and burn it down. Just the stuff good people do for their neighbors. Yet I was the only neighbor.

The moral of the story isn’t that I’m a fantastic guy. It’s that you only have to care a little bit, do a little bit, and extend yourself a tad to change the course of events. I might be the guy that kept Saint Paul from declining like Detroit. Or it might be you.

What is your time worth? How much does your home and your neighborhood matter to you. I’d like you to think about that today, and then act on your analysis. It might just be helping an old neighbor out trimming those hedges. It might be a coat of paint on the wheelchair ramp. Or simply a neighborhood patrol to keep the vandals and burglars out of your alley.

Me? I’m going to pray about what to do if that house becomes available. I need one more project like the Mississippi river needs another major rain storm. But God will guide me. When the time comes, I’ll be ready. In the meantime, I’d appreciate your prayers as well. I’m good at lawn mowing, not so good on wisdom.

.

Ooooh, Time For Something Deep: A Review of James L. Rubart’s Spirit Bridge.

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Then again, it is Commotion in the Pews…

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The last contest was a complete failure. I’d better take some lessons on how to do that from my friend and agent Jessica. She teaches such things at seminars. I can’t even give away stuff lately.

On the other hand, I have had some truly excellent feedback on the posts regarding the VA, Benghazi, IRS scandals, and a few other topics. I know that those make a percentage of my readers uncomfortable, but the reality is that nothing I do is all that comfortable on this blog. I hope that every post makes you think a bit, feel some angst, feel some love, and move off the dime you are stuck on for the moment.

Part of that is my opportunity to review things for you. There’s a great restaurant review coming next week – assuming the river don’t rise – and that’s iffy right now in Minnesota. On the other hand, I can do a short book review and guide you to one of the best reads I’ve had in quite some time.

The last thing that James Rubart says when he gets up in the morning is, “I hope Joe reviews my book today. I really value his opinion.” Maybe not the last thing, but James is pretty busy and likely hasn’t put my review at the top of the list. But he’s going to get one in spades. Look out, James.

Gleefully Stolen from www.jameslrubart.com

Gleefully Stolen from www.jameslrubart.com

I purposely didn’t read any reviews of Mr. Rubart’s latest book, Spirit Bridge. I read it instead. More fun that way and leads to original reviews. I’ll go and read a few of them when I get done here.

I met James a year ago at a conference. Very friendly, very funny, very kind. I’ve run into him subsequently and he’s always a gentleman. That’s an important part of this review, because the man behind a book figures into the plausibility of what he writes. If he’s a charlatan and a fake, a book like the ones James writes would be forgettable adventures in fiction.

You see, James writes books about living your life in a biblical fashion. For some, that means they haul out Leviticus and start stamping rules on things. James is a New Testament kind of a guy, and he would like all of us to live the way Jesus lived. He’d like all of us to know the freedom, power, and love that God endowed us with in his time among us. More correctly, Jesus would love it if we all participated in the miracle that is His life and love.

So, back to the book (yeah, I know my book reviews wander a bit.) The Warriors Riding series of novels that James wrote concern a group of believers who realize that there are just a few valid arguments about the Bible and its authenticity. One argument is that it’s a complete lie. The next is that it’s nice stories that guide us to be better people. The third is that the Bible contains a lot of history and some fevered dreams from historical characters. The one that James has chosen for his characters is the one that fascinates me beyond my mind’s ability to comprehend the truth: The Bible is all real, the miracles are real, and we can all do the miracles in the Bible if we open our hearts to God and let Him guide us in our actions. (If I’ve got that wrong, James, let me know.)

Consequently, his characters can do the most amazing things that we’ve read about in the Bible. And as they grow spiritually they grow in power. This is not witchcraft, it’s not heresy, it’s an amassing of power right from the books of the prophets and the apostles. If (and I think it is) the Bible is the inerrant word of God, then those miracles are all for real. And God has told us that we can perform them ourselves. Some small translation issues have crept in over the years, but if you keep your eye on the prize, you will quickly see that miracles take place around us every day. We need only do our part to incorporate them into our lives.

I haven’t told you much about the books themselves, merely the underlying premise. And this review will stick to that format. I can tell you that James is a superlative writer. I was with the characters in every setting – I could smell it, taste it, feel the pain, feel the joy, and feel the evil (as well as the light.) I knew the people as my friends – and enemies. I walked the paths. And I cheered and cried for them. Most of all, I wanted to see them in the next book. I could barely wait!

And then the last book was in my hands. Always a sad moment – until I started reading. Read it fast. Beyond beautiful. Lovely. Divine. Full of promise. Best of all, it ended. It wrapped things up neatly enough that you could take the characters elsewhere and put them to work on something else. Or nothing at all, and end the character’s lives with that book and it would be a beautiful way to end a fictional existence. He uses words like small pieces of mosaics. Sometimes you don’t even know what those flinty little chips are until they are seen from a distance.

I hope that when I grow up I can write like James Rubart. His books healed my soul. They gave me hope. They made me proud to know him even a little bit. And they made me hope that what he does next is as encouraging, uplifting, and freeing for the souls in this world.

***** For you James. Soul’s Bridge is the best book I’ve read this year. (Don’t tell Jerry Jenkins, his book was pretty awesome as well, but that’s another story.)

If you are looking to read a fantastic series, hop on over to this link and get the Warriors Riding books. You will love them. Please read them in order – it’s worth the effort to do so to get the full impact. You will love the freedom and joy they bring to your heart and soul.

Thanks, Jim. They were just what I needed.

The List Has Grown: Stormy’s List. Things Stormy Hates, Part XXVII

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Back in 2013 I documented the list of things Stormy feared/hated/disliked. It was longish. Little did I know that time would reveal several more items of loathing. I wonder if she’s outside right now adding to the list?

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So as not to keep you in suspense, I must now reveal the two most recent items on the list: Microphones and hoses.

Let’s get right down to it: without microphones (and the stand to hold it) it’s hard to do voice over from the comfort of your living room. This means that I regularly drag the device out from the cubby-hole where it resides, set the legs up, and stand in the middle of the room talking to myself. This freaks the dog out and annoys her at the same time. All she has to do is see “the stick” set up in the living room and she goes to hide in the bathroom upstairs. She will not come down until it is put away. Her cautious approach tells me that attack may be imminent. The question is, will the microphone attack her or will Stormy attack the microphone?

Item number two is a goodie: the hose. We didn’t do a garden last year. The hose was never used. But not in 2014. This year the hose has made an appearance and it is an intruder worthy of attack. Especially that wet stuff that comes charging out of the end.

The cycle starts with barking. After several minutes of noise, she progresses to bouncing up and down and running around me, darting in and out. Eventually she must attack the column of water, viciously snapping her jaws. (Note: I don’t ever want her to really dislike me. Those teeth are razor sharp and there are a whole bunch of them. That water doesn’t stand a chance.) She will pause in the middle of the attack to swallow some nice cold water, but will resume shortly until she feels the evil hose has been vanquished.

Actually, I am laughing so hard that I have to turn off the water flow before she’s completely soaked and has lungs full of water. She goes off dripping and glares when I resume. Normally that would be enough, but if I change the hose pattern from “shower” to “stream” she loses it again. The change in sound brings her running for another joust with the hose demon. This has been known to go on for up to an hour. The end result is always the same: she looks funny wet.Early in the battle - just the face is wet.

Each day brings out some new idiosyncrasy to marvel at in our house. But the moments in between are what make it all worthwhile. This week we had lots of thunderstorms. Which meant no hose. It also meant that she spent her night cuddled up with me on the bed, nibbling on the pillow case (her, not me.) She may ignore me, avoid me, be wary of all my tools and implements, but when the thunder comes I’m the one she seeks out for solace.

I hope you have a person to give you solace in your life when things get rough. In the meantime, quit nibbling on the pillow and get out of the hose stream.