The Back Table

When I was around twelve, I had gone to the beach with my youth group for a weekend retreat. As we were throwing the Frisbee around, I heard a bunch of commotion coming from the boardwalk. When I looked, I saw this large group of twentysomethings laughing and pointing at something. It looked like whatever it was must have been behind where we were. I started looking around to see what it could have been, but couldn't find anything worthy of such hysteria. And then I realized what it was...it was me. Everyone on the beach and boardwalk had now fixed their eyes on me. It felt like someone had just punched me in the gut and left their fist inside me. They were making fun of my weight and how skinny I was, shouting and pointing for what seemed to be an eternity. The only thing I knew to do was to ask for the Frisbee, "Jeff! Jeff! Throw it here." And then I did the unthinkable. I ran over to the guy doing most of the pointing and shouting, and I attempted to shove the Frisbee

Did you ever go to a public pool or attend a pool party and not see at least one kid - or adult for that matter - doing a cannon ball into the water? (For those of you wondering how or why a kid would throw black, iron balls into a pool, you really should get out a little more!) The cannon ball I'm referring to is a diving technique in swimming. Unlike competitive diving techniques, however, its purpose is to maximize rather than minimize splash on water entry. Lesson 1: Leave Your World Wet The cannon ball is dreaded by the readers and sunbathers surrounding the sparkling blue abyss, but to the exerciser of it...pure joy. The bigger the splash and the louder the noise the better. Usually the award is given to the larger or should I say "bigger-boned" individuals. But on rare occasions the skinny kid triumphs with his unconventional and unorthodox style that leaves the other competitors splashes look like rain drops. If you've ever been there and seen it, you know wha

Did you ever ride with someone who loves to hunt? I used to ride with a guy who was a big deer hunter, and every time we would come up to an open field he would start poking and twitching his head around like a chicken. He would be driving, mind you, but that didn't matter. The risk of driving into a telephone pole or another motorist would have been worth it, especially if he actually spotted one. Sometimes I would mess with him. I would spring up in my seat and get really excited and start pointing and shouting - "Over there, over there!" He would go crazy. His eyes would turn into targets, and his head would start going. And then I would point out a bird or a tree. I would say things like- "Did you see that Oak Tree? That thing really had a lot of branches, let's pull over so I can grab one and put it on my wall in my living room". I've never seen someone go from happy to sad that quickly before in all my life. His body must have went through a lot in

What do you daydream about? When you allow your mind to pull over at a rest stop or go on a mini-vacation, what does it think about? My mind usually goes straight to Kung-Fu. Well, I don't really know if you could call it "Kung-Fu." It's kind of my own version. I call it "J-Fu." It's a mixture of all the fights and battles I've ever seen all coiled up in one. Can I tell you how exciting and awesome it is to win every fight, to produce moves that even Batman would drool over? Even now I'm tempted to go there, to save another helpless soul or to defend my family. How frequently does this happen? A lot. Most times though it happens before bed time. I imagine an intruder entering my room, and, of course, he never has time to harm us because I've already landed several elbows, a figure-four, and a double-eye poke for good measure. But it can happen anywhere at any time. I've defended myself and saved others miniature golfing, at church, Hershe

Parallel Two: Both require a thorough investigation. Have you noticed that pretty much every food item in the grocery store has something positive marked on the packaging? It doesn't matter if the product is really good for you or not, you'll usually find either what it doesn't have or the single healthy thing it does have marked in some bright colors close to the brand name or title. You don't fall for this, do you? You don't buy the honey buns because it states that it has low sodium or the chocolate chip cookies because it contains 4 grams of protein? My personal favorite is shortening, which is another name for lard, taking shots at butter. You probably didn't realize that there was an enormous food fight going on at your local grocery store, did you? But there is. All of them are competing against each other. If you stop in one of the aisles and listen real close you might be able to hear the gossiping, backstabbing and bickering going on between them, espe

When I was about 10, I had to sell candy bars to help raise money for the cub scouts. As I left my house to go door to door, I had an amazing idea. I would drop the candy bars near the houses and sidewalks so people wouldn't have to buy them. You know, Bob comes out to get the morning paper and discovers an extra delivery. Shirley hears a knock on her door and finds two Milky Ways on her welcome mat, "Praise God." Part of me felt that it was a good thing to do, but another part knew it wasn't right. I went with the part that thought it was good. Later that evening, we got a couple phone calls from neighbors wondering why there were candy bars scattered all over the place. Needless to say, my parents had me in a room with three chairs, a small table, and a dangling light in a matter of minutes. It didn't take long 'til I ended up confessing that I did it on purpose and not by accident like I'd originally pled. Of course, I had to pay for every one that wasn

One day as I was sitting in a drive-thru, I noticed the driver behind me was moving her arms around like she was hitting something or someone. I quickly realized that it wasn't a someone that she was swatting at, it was a bee. What did I do? I did what anyone else would do. I nestled deeper in my seat and adjusted my rear and side view mirrors to get the best view, because I knew the entertainment was just beginning. And then it happened. She exploded out of her car in sheer terror. She was doing everything but the centipede to get the bee off her. This was a girl that didn't fit the type that would bring attention to herself in this way. But not today, not in this moment. All that image stuff was out the window. The bee was on her, and so was every eyeball in the vicinity. It was hard not to watch. After all, this isn't something you get to see every day. She actually ran across the parking lot leaving her car empty. Even the guy at the window stopped and watched the drama

When I first started dating my wife, I would do anything not to embarrass myself. But as many of us know and have found out at least a few times in our lives, that is an impossible task. The most humiliating moment came at a movie theater soon after Nicki and I started seeing each other. We had gotten our seats and were comfortable, when I decided I would go out and get us some popcorn and a drink while the advertisements were playing. When I got back, the lights had been turned down and the movie was just getting started. Now, our seats were on the other side, so I had to walk across the front to get to them. Somehow I tripped, causing popcorn to fly in the air and land all over the people in the front row. Laughing, clapping, snorts, and cheers ensued while I speed walked to my seat. I was hoping that she didn't see or hear what happened. But with all the commotion (and only a few pieces of popcorn left in the giant bag), I knew I would have some serious explaining to do. But no

The summer after I graduated from high school, my brother and I and some other friends went to Italy. We had 17 days, and all 17 days were accounted for, planned for, filled up...until we found Lake Como, that is. We were traveling by train and as we were coming down from the Swiss Alps, we saw it - the most amazing place. We all just looked at each other knowing that we were all thinking the same thing. It was one of the coolest and most beautiful sights I had ever seen live. We ended up staying there longer then any other spot that we had planned. When I first came to Christ it was like seeing the most beautiful place, He surprised me, caught me off guard. He was unexpected. When I began to explore him, when I got off the train and actually stayed, He overwhelmed me, I never wanted to leave. But something happens, doesn't it? I remember working and saving for over two years for that trip. I remember picturing in my mind what Italy would be like. Every time I thought about it I wo

Last Christmas while I was shopping with my family, our youngest daughter Mackenzie decided to spontaneously leap out of her stroller for an afternoon jog through the very crowded mall. At first I stood there in total disbelief at what just happened; it was almost surreal...I mean, even for a two-year-old, who just gets up and starts running for no reason with absolutely no warnings or signs. For a few brief seconds it was silent like in a movie scene where a bomb goes off real close to someone and they can't hear anything and then slowly the volume comes back. Mine came back with my wife's voice asking me what the heck I was doing just standing there looking at an empty stroller. So I start running. Bobbing and weaving, ducking and jumping...I have to admit, it was kind of thrilling. I felt like I was invincible, nothing could stop me or intimidate me. I feared nothing. My goal was recapturing Mackenzie, end of story. I finally did corner her in a store, or so I thought. After

What is the most annoying sound to you? What's the sound that makes you go to a unhappy place? For me, it's my alarm clock. I hate that thing. Don't get me wrong - I need it. I count on it. It saves me every day. It keeps me employed and my kids in school, but the sound that comes out of it is horrid. (The people who make alarm clock noises must really hate life. We all should be praying for them on a daily basis.) Every now and then a company will make the colossal mistake of having an alarm clock go off in one of their commercials. You know; you've seen them. They reenact someone sleeping in bed who can't get up because she didn't take their sleep aid pill. You just know what's coming, yet you don't believe they'll actually do it. But they do - the alarm starts going. Sometimes they let the alarm go for a few seconds...pure torture. I instantly turn it off. I yell at them (to myself), "Do you want people to buy your product or are you sick or

There is this space between what I want to be, what I should be, and what I'm supposed to be that frightens, confuses, and sometimes paralyzes me. It's the space between Genesis and Revelation. Between "There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus" to Jesus spitting out lukewarm Christians. It's the space between grace and judgment. It's the space we live in right now. "What water temperature am I?" How do we measure that? Where's the spiritual thermometer? I think it can be so easy to fit into the church culture we're a part of. We figure out our temperature by comparing it to others around us and by what's being taught from the pulpit. That's why it's so huge to have a balanced teaching on grace and the seriousness of living as Jesus commanded us to live. It always amazes me to see people in churches get angry when the church decides to make more of an effort to reach out to those outside the church. Isn't

I have a confession to make. At my wedding, when I was told to repeat the vows, I wasn't fully there. It was all kind of hazy, weird - not like I thought it was going to be. Maybe it had something to do with all the booze I was drinking a couple hours before (just kidding, Honey...and Jake [father-in-law]). Seriously though, the only thing that was going through my mind was my voice not cracking, not throwing up and wanting to check my zipper for the hundredth time. I remember feeling white. I don't even know if that's possible, but it was for me that day. I just knew I was the whitest dude in the room. I could have been used as a night light. I'm sure people were thinking that too. I could almost hear the whispers in the ears from one spouse to another - "Honey, he would be great in the hallway by the bathroom." These aren't the kind of thoughts a groom should be having when he's about to make the most important promises to his almost-wife in front of

I'm going to share something really personal. I can't find a deodorant that's nice... you know, to my pits. At first when I try one it's fine, at least for the first few hours, but then itching and then burning follow. It's horrible really. A sad story. A man who can't find a reliable deodorant - one that won't keep burning him. So there you have it, a window into my dark, red places. You'll never look at my under arms the same way again. At least now that it's out in the open I might get some help from others who've been through this same struggle. One day as I was itching and burning - at the same time - a thought came to me. How many people tried the "stick o' church" and ended up getting burnt? How many people have I personally affected in this way? It's an important question to enter into. Now I know and realize that we can't beat ourselves up over what we did "back there," in the past. And we can't blame

Many of you know that I can't stand bananas. I can smell one from a mile away. I blame this banana hatred on my mother. She would pack one in my lunch nearly every day through elementary and middle school, and it would make everything else in my lunch taste like - you guessed it - banana. To this day, if I pass someone eating one I sometimes gag. One night I made the big mistake of eating one in front of my wife. She made fun of me the entire time I was eating it - all 45 minutes of it - laughing, moaning. Her face was red. At one point she couldn't even breathe. I'm serious! I have to admit, it probably was pretty funny watching a grown, bearded man painfully forcing a banana into his mouth gagging and dry heaving over a 45-minute timespan. But this whole banana thing got me thinking. Is this how we treat the Bible sometimes...like a food that we get tired of? I've caught myself and others kind of mocking scriptures in the Bible. Maybe not intentionally, but sometimes

There is this balance that i'm trying to live in - a balance I wish others would try to live in as well. It's the balance of caring and not caring and knowing what we should be caring about in the first place. I tend to care too much about what others think. I would admit to you that I am closer to one side of the scale...not good. But there are others who would fall on the complete opposite side of the scale. These would be people who have this underlying arrogance about themselves...not good either. Most times the over-confidence is a cover up to something they don't want people to see. Many people are drawn to this type of person or personality but usually only for a season. At first their strong opinions and social class seemed desirable but after hanging around them for a while you just want to say, "Who are you? Who put the crown on your head...did I miss the ceremony?" Here's my plea for all of us who find ourselves on one side or the other. Seek God an

I have this issue, chances are you have it as well...one way or another. It's the issue of everybody else and the impact they have on how we act, what we say, how we think, and what we do. For me it's the most annoying thing i deal with as a human. It's annoying because i wrestle with it constantly. I care way too much about what other people think and say about me. Right now, writing this blog, there are faces flashing before my eyes. And all the faces are you and i'm predicting in my mind how you'll react and what you'll say. I've written and erased, written and erased and written and erased some more. It's enough to drive a man crazy. I know i'm not a polished, established, famous writer and so i can't worry about what everyone is going to say- i'm just trying it out and seeing what happens. If it sucks, no one will read it. If its good or half decent people will read it. I've learned enough to know that i will never do anything, never