The Houtchblog

Miracles and Dry Sponges

2012-02-16T20:26:00.004-05:00

A miracle. Most of us think of miracles as something beyond our humdrum every day existence. A miracle might be something collective for a society, such as the 1980 US hockey team beating the Soviets. Or, it could be something more personal- a man like Dean Braxton, who had his heart stop beating for almost two hours, yet not only lived to tell the tale of his after death experience, but also wound up unharmed with no lasting physical signs of trauma.

We struggle with bills, work, family, and other personal issues. Those who are younger struggle with school, academics, social dramas and the difficulty of self discovery and growth. Yet, there is a miracle- a true miracle- that is present and available, from the most prosperous to the penniless; from those with fame to the outcast and rejected. What could that be?

I was praying for my students this morning on my way to work. I was asking God to bless them, to help them… to send angels to them, to intervene in their lives, somehow. Each year, these kids come my way, and there are all sorts of individuals. Some are quiet, studious and cooperative. Others really try my patience with button pushing and bad behaviors. In spite of appearances, both types of students need prayer equally. While one lashes out at the world demanding attention in the spotlight, another suffers silently from the pain of divorce and the separation of their family. Another one might be caught in a cycle of bad decisions, then another questions their own worth in the depths of depression. All need love, acceptance, a kind word and a generous amount of patience and forgiveness. Did not we also go through these difficult times ourselves?

As I prayed, I had a realization of sorts. When a person comes to God and takes a leap of faith, a miracle occurs. A real miracle. A spiritual renewal takes place- a new life is born and angels in heaven sing. Just to say, “Jesus, I believe in you. Please help me,” is a beautiful thing. God can change the hearts of men. We can have hope. Hope beyond our existence. Hope that transcends our brief lives. Hope that leads to understanding, that we are here for a purpose, that there is meaning for our lives.

“Let one of them, I pray, just one, somehow… someway… see You through me,” I prayed. For when one person comes to God, the entire world changes- not physically, but in eternity. The Holy Spirit comes to dwell within us. If a heart was like a dried sponge, the Holy Spirit is like oil poured over and through the soul. With gentleness and love, it softens and conditions our hearts. The heat of the sun and the wind of life’s storms cannot evaporate the penetrating oil of God’s love.

Lord, let your will be done. Let your love for each of us be known. Thank You for loving us. I love You.

Glenn

A Lesson Learned

2012-01-01T13:13:00.004-05:00

[Above, Chris Elliot, whose character is the ultimate irresponsible guy]

This has been on the back burner for a while. Sometimes an article needs to simmer and age in order to reach fullness. Today, January 1^st, it is ready.

What you are about to hear is a story about love. Love from God towards me; that He would care enough about me not only to save me, but to have me learn from my failings. Love from a college professor who helped me a long, long time ago, and continues to do so, even now.

It all started back in 1984. I was still in college, at the time at Liberty University, recently renamed from Liberty Baptist College, the institution founded by Jerry Falwell. I was finally old enough to move out of the cramped four-guys-per-room dormitories and into an apartment in town. Fortunately, I found an ideal place. One of the professors, Dr. Pantana, owned a house he rented out to students at the university. The top floor was rented to a family, the basement to two pastoral majors and myself. Rent was a miniscule $50/month per person, an amount that even then was very low. It was basically a gift to the students, something I was appreciative of, but not as much as I should have been, by far.

It was nice not to have to live in the campus dorms. Privacy was lacking there and the rules were, by my standards, draconian having transferred to Liberty from a small liberal arts college, Maryville, south of Knoxville, Tennessee. It was a culture shock to say the least. Ties required for class, dating permission slips from the dean of student affairs , and traveling all over Lynchburg 3 times per week in little yellow school buses was getting old.

Finally the time came for graduation, and with that, time to come back home to Georgia. I don’t remember the exact circumstances, but I made the wrong choice. Instead of honoring Dr. Pantana’s gift to us, I was selfish, immature, and foolish. I skipped town owing him the last month in rent. It didn’t matter that I was owed the same amount in phone bills I had to pay. It didn’t matter that I had yet to establish a career with a decent wage. I was wrong.

The years passed by and I eventually became a teacher, the incident long forgotten. Eventually I began attending a wonderful little church, Christ the Redeemer Charismatic Episcopal Church. It was there I met “Sam,” a guy who was at the time living with another church member. Sam needed another place to stay because he was not getting along with his current landlord. I said, “Hey, come live with me. I have a spare room and you can stay there.” So Sam moved in.

Sam was a young guy, maybe 22 or 23. He still wanted to party and stay out till all hours of the night. I knew that when you hang out with ne’er-do-wells, bad things happened. However, I also realized that people need to learn these lessons for themselves, and no amount of advice from anyone would change his mind or take the place of personal experience. So I would counsel him when asked, but otherwise let him be (at least as I recall.)

The deal I made with him was $200 per month plus half the utilities, which was dirt cheap in 2003. He also had the option of working off part of each month’s rent by doing work in the yard. He was not the most diligent worker. In fact, he was rather irresponsible, promising the world and then failing to deliver. He also could not seem to keep a job longer than two or three weeks. So we had some minor conflicts, but nothing deal breaking.

That is until he came home one day and told me about this fantastic deal he had found out about. Fantastic in his opinion, that is. Sam told me that some convenience store had closed down, and some “friends” of his were giving out free beer and liquor left over from the store. I was sort of confused by this. Something was just not right. You don’t just “get” free beer. When I wanted to drink beer (which was and still is rare) I would go out and buy it.

I felt there was something not quite right about this deal. So I told him he could do what he wanted, however, any liquor which was not purchased was not to be brought into the house. Bottom line. He went against my wishes behind my back, and while I was at work, brought in cases and cases of beer and hid them under a blanket in his room.

That winter my heater broke down and I needed a new one. Three thousand dollars later I was good to go. I needed to check the vents though to make sure they were not blocked in his room, and did so in his presence. Sure enough, Sam had piled up his “free” beer against an exhaust outlet for the central heater.

I told Sam he had to go and gave him two weeks. He was upset and could not really understand me. He moved out owing me that December’s rent plus utilities, promising to pay as soon as he could get steady work. It never happened.

A while passed and eventually I realized the missing rent and utilities would never be forthcoming. So I forgave Sam the debt. Then, years later I realized the incredible irony of this story. What I had done to Dr. Pantana, Sam had done to me. So I gave the entire thing to God, and asked for His mercy and forgiveness.

But the story does not end there. I recently got back in touch with Dr. Pantana. He took time to call me back in his busy schedule. I told him the story and asked for his forgiveness. He forgave me, and I cried, doing so even as I write these words.

Dr. Pantana continues to work at Liberty well beyond the years he is eligible for retirement. It is something that seems odd to me, for I cannot wait until I can retire. I am not sure I can take the stress for eight more years.

But, you see, Dr. Pantana is teaching still as a service for God. Again, he shows himself to be an example for me to follow. So, I pray for God’s will. Perhaps there will be a child I need to pray for that I have yet to meet.

I have heard about Sam from a mutual friend at the church I used to go to. He is doing much better, and has a steady job and has grown in maturity and wisdom, escaping the folly of youth. I thank God for this and pray for his continued blessing and growth. God bless you, Sam. And thank you Lord, for this wonderful lesson, learned. I love You.

G.Houtchens

Armchair coach

Amateur historian

The Impossible Story

2011-11-17T19:35:00.004-05:00

As a Christian and a Science teacher there has come to me an idea from a story in scripture. It is an unorthodox idea; a most unusual one. It begs for understanding, for illumination. It is impossible. But true.

It was a high point in Jesus' ministry. He was preparing to enter the Jewish holy city of Jerusalem, to prepare for Passover with his disciples, and also to prepare for the events which would lead to his betrayal and crucifixion. Jesus was well known throughout the area- for his miracles, for his ministry to the outcasts of society, for his stance on the truths of God, not the minutia-ridden, legalistic, tradition-centered views held by many of the Pharisees of the day. People lined the streets at word of his impending arrival.

Even his approach to Jerusalem was marked by unseen spiritual occurrences. As he approached the little town of Bethany at the hill of the Mount of Olives, he told two of his disciples to fetch a donkey upon which no one had ever ridden. They went and found the animal just as they had been told.

As Jesus went down the hill on the other side, a crowd had gathered and they began to hail and praise him, spreading their cloaks on the road as he passed. They praised God in loud joyful voices, for all the miracles they had seen. Luke 19:38 “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”

In the midst of this triumphant procession, some of the Pharisees in the crowd began to criticize Jesus. “Teacher, rebuke your disciples!” they said. Evidently, their hearts were not moved by the significance of the moment. Perhaps they thought that God could only be worshipped and praised in certain ceremonial ways, or they were angry with Jesus for receiving praise that they desired for themselves.

Jesus answer to their objection to me is like a bell which once rung, continues to resound. “I tell you,” he replied, “if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.”

Imagine! The rocks themselves were ready to cry out. How could such a thing happen? This brings to mind all kinds of questions. Do rocks have any form of sentience? How could they cry out?

First the cause: Jesus, the Son of the Most High God. The Lord of Creation. The one of whom it was written all things are held together by the word of his power. I believe this may refer to the strong force, by which atoms hold together, but that is a subject for another time. It stands to reason that this was a special time and a special place- a crossroads of time and space where strong spiritual forces were at work.

Now science, in and of itself, is good for certain things. It is good for discovering the laws of nature. It is good for understanding how certain systems work, be it biological, physical or chemical. It is good for helping us to understand our environment. What it is not good at whatsoever is describing or understanding things spiritual.

Science: I knew you were going to play the mystic card.

Me: I prefer the word spiritual. Sixth sense?

Science: Don’t be coy. No, you have used the argument in the past.

Me: That bothers you, doesn’t it?

Science: Not in the least. I’m right. I’m always right.

Me: Explain how swamp gas can do circles around a helicopter at 5,000 feet, show up only on infra red cameras, then speed off leaving the copter in the dust.

Science: We both know that only experiments that can be repeated in laboratory conditions…

Me: It was caught on film. That’s objective evidence.

Science: Would you let me finish?

Me: Can’t do it, can you? Maybe it was not swamp gas as you alleged?

Science: Sputter! You…. You….

Me: Explain how a dog separated from its family can find it again after traveling hundreds of miles.

Science: Coincidence?

Me: In more than one instance…. Go ahead, calculate the odds.

Science: Working… working… That is not logical. Error. Error. Error.

Me: The fact is, there is a lot that you can’t explain.

Science: Fact… explain… fact… right… wrong.

Me: YOU are the infection! Destroy the infection!

Science: Buzz! Whirr! Help me! Help me! Help me! (Science goes into a massive meltdown, turning into a twisted, smouldering molten heap of metal)

Me: Sigh. That never gets old. (with thanks to Captain Kirk)

Back to the rocks, which we have just finished studying in class. Rocks have natural lines of breakage, due to their organized, crystalline nature. Even the hardest of materials, diamonds, have lines of cleavage along which the lightest tap of a gem cutter’s chisel can split asunder.

The bottom line is this: I believe that the stones which were there along the road would have shattered along their natural fracture lines. Even a crystal glass can shatter from an opera singer- who is to say that spiritual forces could not break rocks on the road in praise to God for His goodness and the arrival of the very salvation of all mankind?

The praise of angels? Maybe. Maybe not. Jesus is Lord. Let God be true, and every man a liar.

G.Houtchens

Armchair coach

Amateur historian

Heroes #6 Ben Hamby

2011-09-28T19:05:00.004-05:00

Heroes #6 Ben Hamby

When I hear the name "Ben," I smile. I first heard of Ben many years ago, I suppose in the early to mid 90's. Ben was working at the time at the county office building complex, in a special school where kids who had misbehaved just a *bit* too much got once last chance gasp before being expelled. At least, that's how I remember it.

At various times at Dean Rusk Middle School Ben served in the ISS room, as a Special Ed teacher, and also at times as a Social Studies teacher. Whatever job they gave Ben to do, he did it. He was the school's basketball coach for a number of years, even though he was not in the best shape to demonstrate basketball skills to the boys.

Ben volunteered for a while (it may have been years, I'm not sure) to work with the prison ministry in Cherokee County. The contrast between being locked inside a jail and being able to walk out at the end of the evening must have been stark. Ben had a heart of gold though, and to anyone who knew him, he was always ready to jump to pray for people or just to lend his ear. He was a very good listener, a quality that I am sure helped him in ISS.

One day, many years ago, I had a vehicle which was not terribly trustworthy. Thankfully, Doug Jackson lived around the corner from me, and he would pick me up in the mornings for work. I would listen to his tales of history. He would rant about his students unwillingness to do their work, and the commies, wherever they happened to reside in the world. This particular day, Doug could not give me a ride home, so I was sort of stuck. 24 miles from home. Nearly everyone had bugged out immediately after school. Guess who gave me a lift, going out of his way to do so? Ben =). We had a good conversation, I do remember that. I remember thinking something along the lines of, "Wow, what a neat person!" as he dropped me off in that big van.

Ben would take missionary trips to Mexico in the summertime. They (his church group) would drive there in a marathon road trip. That's a long trip from Georgia. There, he would assist in building churches for the people to worship in. How beautiful.

Ben worked for two years on a specialized team that provided extra individualized attention to students. They were... difficult students to handle, magnified exponentially by the fact that they were all grouped together. I honestly don't know how he did it. But you know what? He was able to show them love and acceptance while being an example for them as well. I'm sure he felt like the biblical Job and had a few extra white hairs by the time he was once again back in ISS.

Since I went to the new middle school, Ben and I have been out of touch, except for a few messages on Facebook, and once where I visited him on a teacher workday. I regret not having kept in better touch with him.

I spoke with Ben two, maybe two and a half months ago. I had heard he was not doing too well physically and was concerned. So I got a hold of his home number and called him during morning planning. He answered, and his speech was a little slurred. I said, "Hey, Ben, this is Glenn Houtchens. I wanted to call and ask how you are doing and to pray with you."

He sounded sort of out of it, and replied, saying, "Well, how do I know this is you?"

I said, "It's me, Ben," smiling. "We have all been thinking about you here. Let me say a prayer for you." So we prayed and I was glad to be able to do so.

God had other plans for Ben. Two weeks ago, Ben went into multiple organ failure including his heart and was found by his family at their home. He was taken to the hospital but by then, the damage had been done.

I have had a thought that has recurred to me since then. It's a scene in heaven. Ben is with Jesus and they are speaking. Jesus is thanking Ben for visiting him in jail, for teaching Sunday School, for listening to him in ISS, for building churches for worship, for giving him a ride and just for being a blessing to everyone around him. Ben understands then, and they hug.

Ben took what God gave him and gave it to others. Thank you, Ben, for your loving heart, and thank you Lord, for your gift of Ben to us. God bless you, Ben Hamby. I am better for having known you. You are my hero.

G.Houtchens
Armchair Coach
Amateur Historian

At the Cross

2011-08-09T05:58:00.003-05:00

I learned this song from my Second Life church, Calvary Chapel. It's... beautiful, and tugs on the strings of my heart so very deeply. The deepest part of me resonates along with it. I sing this in my heart as I go through the day. Ignore the video- just hit play then read the words as the song plays. Beautiful.

At the Cross, by Randy and Terry Butler
Copyright © 1997 Mercy/Vineyard Publishing. All rights reserved. International copyright secured.

I know a place, a wonderful place
Where accused and condemned
Find mercy and grace
Where the wrongs we have done
And the wrongs done to us
Were nailed there with Him
There on the cross

At the cross (at the cross)
He died for our sin
At the cross (at the cross)
He gave us life again

I know a place, a wonderful place
Where accused and condemned
Find mercy and grace
Where the wrongs we have done
And the wrongs done to us
Were nailed there with You
There on the cross

At the cross (at the cross)
You died for our sin
At the cross (at the cross)
You gave us life again

Ten Things I Want to do in Heaven

2011-08-04T04:24:00.004-05:00

Ten Things I Want to do in Heaven:

1. To thank Jesus for my life; for making me, buying me, and forgiving me. To kneel at his feet and submit myself in love.

2. To sing praises to God with Keith Green.

3. To see friends, students and relatives who have passed before me.

4. To see Mikey and Snoopy, give them a hug, and tell them how much I love them (and to let them jump all over me.)

5. To pray for others that I knew down here.

6. To love and be loved; to know and be known.

7. To not sin any more.

8. To do God's will without messing up.

9. To meet and speak with author J.R.R. Tolkien, Mother Theresa of Calcutta, Pope John Paul II, the apostles whose stories were never recorded (or were and were lost in time,) and if possible, actor Jonathan Harris.

10. To join others in cheering on from the stands, to encourage those left behind if that might be possible, to finish the race.

11. To meet the angels who have helped me without my ever knowing, to thank them.

Let His great love be made known, let it be shouted from the rooftops. Life is all about Him.

Glenn

The Real Matrix

2011-08-01T05:24:00.007-05:00

The Real Matrix

I have mentioned Second Life before- it's basically an alternate reality sort of program where things of all kinds are made using a utility with shapes, or prims, that can be formed, colored and even coded. These objects may be made translucent, transparent, even phantom, so that other objects can pass through them. They can even be attached to one's avatar- the character, symbol, or representation folks use to portray themselves to the rest of the Second Life world. Interesting.

Pictured above is a supermarket found within the world of Second Life. Look at it carefully. You will notice boxes, pictures, shapes, and a setting that we are familiar with, for the most part. The photos which cover some of the vegetables and doughnuts are skewed, though. There is something not quite right about them. They look flattened. Mis-shapen. The angles are not quite right. Yet, I say to you, the images seen here are in some ways, more real than the supermarket you go to visit, the walls that surround you and the chair that you are sitting in right now.

No, I have not gone nutters. Just bear with me for a minute. You see, we spend every moment of our waking lives surrounded by the sensations delivered to us by our senses- what we see, hear, smell, taste and feel. Our lives are consumed by pleasure, or the pursuit of it. We think continuously of the temporary, what we understand. By nature, we think in terms of our experience. But I say to you, what we see is ashes, or soon will be. What we hear; fleeting.... As the band Kansas once popularized, we and all we see are "Dust in the Wind." What is more real than our limited, blind experience is what is unseen. The cries of the heart. The wounds of the spirit. The tears in our innermost being which cannot be touched by any earthly hand.

Why do I say that the picture above filled with electronic pixels is in some ways more real that reality? Proverbs 23:7 says loosely, As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he. When people first come to Second Life, many times they just go wild in this new found environment. Their every desire is suddenly available in anonymity and security. The sinful appetites of the heart come rushing out, seemingly without consequence. This is a tragic misconception, with equally dire results.

There was a man I met in Second Life a little over a month ago I'll call "Jack." I met him at a church sim I go to ( a sim is a large square piece of land where environments are built.) Jack was new to Second Life and was visiting. I asked him if he was a Christian, thinking it might be an opportunity to witness, and he responded by saying he was a pastor in real life. Of course, there's no way to confirm that, but he seemed honest and reasonable- nothing seemed suspicious at any rate. I friended him and told him we would talk later.

About a week went by, and I noticed Jack was logged in and online. When I went to check his profile so I could send him an instant message, I discovered he had joined an adult club. I was concerned and when I asked him about it (evidently he did not know I could see his clubs by friending me,) he claimed that he had joined this club by accident. He had also changed his name to "Lonesome Lover."

Had this occurred by accident? Not likely. Now this is not to advocate asceticism, which is a rigorous self denial of the flesh; that all things having to do with our bodies are worthless. Far from it. Our bodies are beautiful gifts to enjoy, take care of and be thankful for.

My point is this. Our hearts are shaped by our thoughts, and though we live in our bodies for a short while, our eternal destination will be determined by what we do with what Jesus did for us. There is only One who can change the heart of man. Lord, please examine our thoughts, and cleanse them. Draw us towards You. Let us not be mired in self condemnation or self pity. Renew our minds, and make us as Your children, so that Your will may be done. We love you. Amen.

G.Houtchens
armchair coach
amateur historian

What's the Uproar?

2011-07-17T15:55:00.007-05:00

(photo courtesy of Fox News)

What's the Uproar?

Sunday evening at midnight, Casey Anthony was set free and escorted by police to whereabouts unknown. The media have been playing up this case, causing widespread anger and hatred towards the woman who played some part in her 2 year old daughter's death. The following quotes are taken from Fox News regarding her release. No author name was given:

As Anthony's SUV left the jail's parking lot, the crowd of more than 100 people surged against the orange plastic police barricades and some yelled "You suck!" Mounted patrolmen and police cruisers blocked the street outside the jail so Anthony's vehicle could drive onto a nearby highway ramp unobstructed.

"A baby killer was just set free!" Bree Thornton, 39, shouted at the passing SUV.

"She is safer in jail than she is out here," said Mike Quiroz, who drove from Miami to spend his 22nd birthday outside the jail.

"She better watch her butt. She is known all over the world." Lamar Jordan said he felt a pit in his stomach when he saw Anthony walking free. "The fact that she is being let out, the fact that it is her child and she didn't say what happened, made me sick," Jordan said.

Outraged lawmakers in several states responded by proposing so-called Caylee's laws that would allow authorities to prosecute parents who don't quickly report missing children.

Her backers... appeared to be vastly outnumbered by her critics.

Facebook evidently has an "I Hate Casey Anthony" group. Her legal team received an emailed death threat with a photoshopped picture of Casey Anthony with a bullet wound.

According to authorities, contingency plans were in place in the event that Ms. Anthony was shot from the gathered crowd. Her story has evidently changed several times. Clearly she bears some if not all responsibility for the death of her child.

I, too, am upset that a young child, practically an innocent baby, had to die due to whatever events surrounded her death.

My question is... Why the hate? Why the uproar? This very same thing happens one million times, let me repeat that- ONE MILLION TIMES in our country each YEAR. Yet... there is no outrage. There is no condemnation. There is no protest. There is just... a quivering silence. A silence that is reflected in the suffering that helpless babies go through when they are aborted. I don't see a large difference between the two events. I doubt that God does, either. Should we differentiate the value of human life based on appearance? Has the story of Joseph Merrick, the Elephant Man taught us nothing?

In writing of this dichotomy of perception, I protest with my own small voice, though I know it is not alone. Stop it. Stop it all. Stop us from lying to ourselves. Stop us from killing our own. Stop us from the false perception that everything that is possible is permissible. Stop us from our spiritual Frankenstein. Have mercy on all of us, oh Lord. Amen.

G.Houtchens
armchair coach
amateur historian

You are in Trouble !

2011-05-27T17:10:00.002-05:00

Wednesday was the 6th grade Olympics for the middle school where I work. We escorted the kids to the stadium at the adjoining high school to watch the activities and events in a day of fun and relaxation (for the kids, heh!) Towards the end when we were getting ready to go to lunch, I carried around a bag for the kids on our team to put trash in from the snacks they had bought from the concession stand. Three kids in particular went around picking up trash that was not their own, helping me immensely.

One of them, a kid I will call Sam, sometimes gets in trouble because he has a hard time controlling blurting out, but I like him because I can tell he has a good heart. During lunch I asked that he be summoned to my room. "You are in TROUBLE," I told him, my face serious and my demeanor stern when he arrived at my desk.

The effect was electric. His eyes bugged out of his head, his mouth dropped open a little and his entire expression said, "UT OH!"

I laughed and said, "Just kidding!" and he laughed in relief. Then I asked him, "You are one of the ones who helped me collect trash, weren't you?" He replied that he was, and I gave him a small handful of Jolly Rancher candies, as I had the others who helped me.

"WOW!" he replied, as he cupped the sweet morsels, treasuring them. It was the simplest thing, but it meant something to him. I was glad I was able to make a small difference to one person on one day.

G.Houtchens

Messages from God

2011-05-23T20:21:00.003-05:00

Messages from God

On my way from Lynchburg, Virginia to Newport News in the very early morning hours, I was greeted by an awesome sight. I had been fretting and concerned that I would become lost with the lack of road signs and difficulty finding my way in the dark. As I drove out onto the two lane highway that ventured deep into the hills, my window was cranked down and the cool wind blew past my face and through the interior of the vehicle. I turned to my left and happened to look up, and saw a scene very similar to the image pictured above.

The sky itself was a much deeper, richly hued violet. The moon was out and some sparse clouds drifted as blackened silhouettes. Only one star was visible in the entire sky- it shone down brightly from above. I was completely awestruck by the beauty of this scene.

I was reminded that we have hope. “For unto us is born a child in the city of David a Savior which is Christ our Lord.”

Your birth, O Christ our God,

dawned the light of knowledge upon the earth.
For by Your birth those who adored stars

were taught by a star
to worship You, the Sun of Justice,
and to know You, Orient from on High.
O Lord, glory to You.

-from Hymns of the Feast, Greek Orthodox Church

I was also reminded of how God watches over all of us. Who am I that God should ever think about me- but He does. And He thinks about you, too… about all of us. He desires us to be close to Him. The thing is, we spend most of our lives leading our own paths, and walking in our own self-directed ways. His response towards us, even when we completely mess up is love.

God took a moment in time on that trip in the wee morning hours, and He shared with me a fragment of the glory of His creation that left me awestruck. The illustration I chose does not really do it credit, because it does not begin to compare.

God is waiting, ever patient. Heaven is watching, like an endless cloud of witnesses. Draw us close to You, Lord. Thank You for Your love.

Amen

Glenn

Road Trip

2011-05-13T16:34:00.002-05:00

During Spring Break I took a road trip up to Virginia. I guess the timing was right, because it was just before the ugly spike in gas prices hit us. Rather than take my trusty 200,000 mile bucket of bolts up there, I rented a car for the journey.

I followed the speed limit for most of the trip, only going a little over at times to keep up with the flow of traffic. Lynchburg, Virginia was my destination to visit a freind I have not seen for 25 years, George Everson, a beautiful Christian brother.

Shortly after I entered Virginia, there was something familiar to me about the shape of the hills and the trees that lined the roadway. I could not exactly put my finger on it, but I began to laugh and cry at the same time, remembering people and places and things that happened that I had not thought of for the longest time.

I pulled into Liberty University around 4 pm. Gone was the guard shack on the bridge that students had to pass by to enter or exit. A Barnes and Noble bookstore now squatted in the middle of the parking lot just past the entrance. The growth of buildings in the central campus was staggering. There used to be a campus green with a fountain in the valley that connected the east and west sides of the campus. Although the buildings were blocky brick structures, squared off shapes that dotted the landscape, it had a small quaintness of its own.

Now the view was cut off by a massive, columned, four story structure that both dominated and obscured the entire view in the center of the campus. To me, the building itself seemed a bit presumptuous compared to the gentle grace on the ground where I once walked and lived. Different strokes for different folks, I guess.

Then it was time for me to go see George. I passed the Hess gas station, where I distinctly remember the gas prices being $1.05 a gallon, but the rest of the outskirts of Lynchburg had changed so much, I did not even recognize it.

Despite getting lost, I somehow managed to find Rivermont Avenue downtown, and proceeded to Rivermont Presbyterian Church, where George worked. How awesome it was. His hair was now gray, and mine was gone, but somehow that didn't matter. He showed me around the historic 100 year old church, telling me stories of the pastors who had served there and how God had blessed him.

George still lives in a basement apartment downtown, but he does not seem to mind. He can walk to work and wherever he needs to go- he does not own a car, which is unusual in a society of commuters, where work is often a distance from where one lives. We had dinner and talked about old times. They were good times, with our D&D gaming group as we struggled with our growth into young adulthood.

I awoke early the next morning, and packed everything up. George said a blessing over me as I left, which I treasure. As I turned the ignition on the dark street, George appeared at my door, ever the faithful servant, holding the two pillows which I had left behind.

The next leg of my trip was to Newport News, Virginia to visit another old freind, Suzanne. We got to talk and walk on the beach and go out to eat, so it was good to see her again. I was glad that she was involved in a local church and that her spiritual life was flourishing. She has a small house with an in-ground pool and her cats keep her company as they climb over every available surface, hunting and stalking one another. I got to say a prayer for her, and I hope that God blesses her richly.

There are a few other stories that I could relate, but that will have to wait for another time.

G.Houtchens

armchair coach

amateur historian

God is Faithful

2011-05-11T18:46:00.000-05:00

I have been in a massive rut recently, over things that are well beyond my control. This situation is upsetting to me, and combined with my now empty and silent house with the passing of Mikey, and some other recent stressful events (also which are well beyond any remediation whatsoever) its difficult to handle. Sometimes I just shake my head and feel like crying- I feel at times that its all I can do just to hang on for another day.

I was running late for work this morning. Late that is, for my usual arrival time to get things set up, not actually late for work. So I clambered into the truck and started on my trip. As I drove, I did my usual thing of praying for those I know, asking for mercy. Usually I don't listen to the radio on the way to work as its sort of my quiet time, but today I turned the radio on. It happened to be tuned into 104.7 the fish and wouldn't you know....

At that time, that place, as I trundled along, God spoke to me through a song that was just what I needed. Not what I wanted (all my issues resolved!) but rather, just a reminder of His love, of His faithfulness towards us- towards me, even when I have screwed up.

I had heard this song before, but never in this particular context. For anyone who ever hurts, this post is for you.

G.Houtchens
armchair coach
amateur historian

I Shall Not Rejoice, pt. III

2011-05-02T04:31:00.004-05:00

I Shall Not Rejoice, pt. III

“Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord” Romans 12:19. With the death of Osama bin Laden, I suppose it was to be expected that throngs should gather outside the White House to celebrate the death of one who killed so many innocents. I will not join them. In truth, sin darkens the hearts of all men. Proverbs 24:17 states "Do not rejoice when your enemy falls, and do not let your heart be glad when he stumbles….”

I remember that day in school in 2001 when the news of the awful tragedy of the twin towers struck. Students sat spellbound in their seats as a catastrophe unfolded before them the likes of which had not been seen since Pearl Harbor in 1941. It was a time of bitter sadness, the thousands of innocents dying before our eyes.

The second article I wrote back then on the Palestinian people celebrating in the streets was meant to illustrate the back and forth retribution that causes a spiritual chain of hate, and deaths upon deaths. It is one thing when countries go to war, as in World War II, to protect the innocent. It is another when people clutch anger to their hearts like a deadly viper. The only winner in such a struggle is the enemy of all mankind. As seen in the picture, it appears that we Americans are no better than they, regardless of the cause.

I am reminded today that the Lord is Lord over all. Keep us humble. With Bin Laden’s death, let us look to ourselves, then to You. Free us from our pride. Let us surrender all our will, our hopes, our motivations, our dreams, our thoughts to You. In doing so, heal our collective hearts- Christian and Islamic, American and Palestinian- and let us rest.

G.Houtchens

Armchair coach

Amateur historian

Lethal Force

2011-03-31T05:05:00.004-05:00

[inset- Gloria, an example of a family pet killed by police]

This morning I learned of another incident regarding the use of lethal force against a family dog, this time against a 30 pound mixed Boston Terrier Pit Bull. Admittedly, this time the shooting occurred in a parking lot, and some responsibility must fall to the family for failing to keep their pet monitored and secure, it still raises the question of the escalation of danger officers face in the performance of their duties, and how they are to properly respond. http://www.news4jax.com/news/27374834/detail.html?source=jax

"The use of deadly force is justified only under conditions of extreme necessity as a last resort, when all lesser means have failed or cannot reasonably be employed." (definition from Wikipedia) Certainly, police must protect themselves and others from violent criminals, and because guns can be fired, this necessitates a snap decision in many cases. Guns are drawn and held ready in the event their use is called for.

However, in the case of family pets, they don't have guns. The only way they can hurt a human is to close and use their teeth. Therefore where dogs are concerned, officers should be authorized to use lethal force only when lethal force is used against them, instead of shooting the animals down in cold blood.

Police now have a variety of options that do not require discharging their weapon. I am uncertain whether mace or pepper spray are effective in deterring dogs (I would assume so, given dogs sensitivity to smell.) Tasers are proven in their effectiveness to stop threats and are not necessarily lethal.

We don't need officers who respond to ankle-biters with this kind of stopping power. We need instead officers who use common freaking sense, something that seems to have in many cases, gone by the wayside. The law does support officers who kill family pets. Police have the right to pursue their duties without interference. Lethal force justifies the use of sidearms. Non lethal force does not.

G.Houtchens
armchair coach
amateur historian

Numbskulls For Lawyers

2011-03-24T10:50:00.005-05:00

Numbskulls For Lawyers

I've been reading about the Collective Bargaining Agreement that recently fell through in the National Football League over the past few weeks. I've listened to arguments from both sides and have several thoughts on the matter, which I would like to share.

1. The players union states that it requires the ledger sheets from all the clubs in order to continue negotiations. Let me restate this so that it is more understandable and consise. "We need the books so we can sack you for more of your money." There, that's a little more plain, isn't it? I disagree with this. It's the same philosophy that says, you have money, we don't, so we deserve some of yours. It's the same philosophy that President Obama's Robin Hood approach that says, lets take your tax money and spend it on "stimulus" in heavily democratic districts on inane spending projects, like the airport to nowhere.

It's wrong. It's not the amount of money the owners make that dictates what the players receive. It's the principle of the thing.

2. The jobs and the money belong to the owners, and to the league. Period. These resources do not belong to the players. The players are free to go form their own league, but they don't, because that's not where the money is. They are motivated by greed. I work hard at my job, just like they do. Because I make less than they do, does that mean that I am entitled to some of their money? No, not by withholding my money for tv fees, and not by taking it from them and redistributing it to myself via taxes.

3. What is the minimum wage for playing in the NFL? In 2010, rookies and first year players earned a minimum of $320,000. Second year players earned a minimum of $395,000. Third year players earned a minimum of $470,000; fourth year players earned $545,000 and fifth year players earned 630,000. Given that the players mentioned in the lawsuit against the NFL include the highest paid players in the game, including Drew Brees and Peyton Manning I have only this to say...

Shame on you! For shame! I hope that they replace your sorry selves with replacement players, like they did in the 80's. How can you go on strike making that kind of salary? I would love to see the Browns, the Cardinals, the Seahawks or the Falcons win the Super Bowl. Hopefully, when you cling to your overused, anti-American, industry-draining, greed-promoting lawyers and union organizers, you will find yourselves wishing you had not gone back to soak the till one too many times.

I appreciate the dedication Commissioner Goodell has taken in reducing his salary until the negotiations are concluded.

G.Houtchens
armchair coach
amateur historian

cc: Peyton Manning, Drew Brees, Roger Goodell

Passion and Devotion

2011-03-19T06:45:00.006-05:00

A picture can be worth a thousand words. In this case, I have taken pictures of my precious ones, Snoopy and Mikey, which speak, well, volumes, at least to me. They also speak another lesson to me, as well.

You see, our pets, dogs particularly, have had their puppy-like emotions and behaviors bred into them. It’s what makes them different from their wolf ancestors they descended from. Right now there is a continuing project in Russia to breed in these same characteristics into foxes that has been continuing for 40 or 50 years, and some have been reasonably domesticated enough to live with humans. Their fear response to humans has been selectively bred out, making them more childlike and trusting.

Dogs have their own limited language. Their posture, their tails, the sounds they make; even just a look with the ears up all convey *meaning.* Check out the bottom half of the picture. Snoopy is talking to me, bellowing from his entire body in my direction. He is focused on me, crying out, and if an interpretation could be suggested, it might be “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!” Would that our prayers to God be filled with such desire, energy and focus. Matthew 19:14 says, “But Jesus said, Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven.” Matthew 18:3 “Truly, I say to you, if you do not have a change of heart and become like little children, you will not go into the kingdom of heaven.” Mark 10:15 “I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it."

Then look at little Mikey, bless her. She’s smiling, ears up, mouth open in a gesture of play. The tail I am sure was going. Such innocence in thought and joy in the moment. I learned a saying from Pastor Alex that goes like this: “Be careful little eyes what you see, be careful little ears what you hear, be careful little feet where you go.” In order to change and transform our minds and thoughts, we should be immersed in God’s word daily, for faith comes by hearing and hearing by the word of God.

Then check out the top picture. What a beautiful moment! Snoopy and Mikey would just follow me around the house in those days, watching me, ready to respond to my slightest initiative to interact. Such devotion. Their attention and concentration would magnify should I happen to be carrying food or a treat for them. But guess what? God has snackaliscious, way-cool “treats” for you, for your life, that make the scraps I fed to the dogs seem like cold porridge in comparison. He is waiting for us to drop the things of the world which we so stubbornly hold on to so that we may receive, with open hands. 1 Corinthians 2:9 But, as it is written, “What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him.”

So God continues to bless me through my wonderful guys, even though they are gone. What an awesome, incredible, beautiful gift. But there is another greater gift we all need to receive- God’s son, Jesus. He came, that we might have life and have it more abundantly. He died, willingly, for the sins of the world; what we do with that, ultimately, is up to us.

G.Houtchens

Goodbye, my Little Girl

2011-03-09T20:42:00.003-05:00

The food bowl sits on the floor- empty… untouched… alone… like my heart feels right now. My companion who shared my home for a decade and a half has gone, and I’m still grieving. As I reflect on it, I realize my mourning is normal- to some extent at any rate. The house where I live has never been empty. I moved in with Snoopy and Beauty my first night here, back in 1995. Always the pitter patter of little feet has graced this home.

Mikey was born to Snoopy and Beauty in Beauty’s first and only litter- thirteen puppies, one stillborn. Out of all of them, I picked her. Beauty passed away from a bad case of parvovirus a few months afterwards. Both Mikey and Snoopy got ill, but they made it through.

One of my students today asked why dogs don’t live as long as humans. I thought about it and replied simply that they live life filled with abandon. I miss coming home and seeing my bedspread all over the place from where they used to jump up and down on it all day, chasing away mailmen or any stray animal that got too close to the house. In the back yard, Mikey would chase Snoopy and both would run themselves into exhaustion. It was a joie de vivre (French for a passionate “joy of living” or “zest of life”) that I have never seen repeated, anywhere, before or afterwards.

When Snoopy died three years ago my heart was heavy, and so was Mikey’s. She did not understand, and up to a few days before she died, she always went out to my truck to check and see if Snoopy was there. In this, her emotions were plainly evident.

In her later years, she had some hip dysplasia, so she spent most of her time lying and sleeping. Yet, whenever I arrived home from work, she always dragged herself up to come and greet me. I would leave the radio in my bedroom turned to a Christian music station when I left for work, and when I arrived home I would ask her, “Did God sing over you today?” She was so faithful… so filled with love. What a beautiful gift from God!

The end happened all too quickly. Friday, I arrived home and Mikey let out a whine, gathering herself up from the floor to come and greet me as was her usual custom. I spent the weekend at home, happy and content. Sunday however, she was a little wobbly. As she went down the three steps from my porch to the front yard, she tripped, and landed smack down on her chest with her front legs splayed out on the concrete. I went to her and helped her get up, but she was never really the same after that. She was not too interested in food. I made her a chicken breast with some bread, but it came back up later in the day. I was very concerned that she had hurt herself.

The truth was that her liver and kidneys had ceased functioning and when I got her into the vets on Monday, she had a temperature of 104. I asked them to get her hydrated and waited for the blood test results. When I learned that her organs had started to shut down, I knew it was her time.

They brought her in and she looked better, now that she had gotten some water into her. I had a talk with her, and told her how good she had been and how much I loved her. Even with her temperature, and the wastes building up in her blood, she reached forward and gave me a snog on the face. It was… so very touching.

Now, the house sits silent. I know that one of these days, I am going to come home and forgetting, expect to see her. I leave the radio on for now when I go to work, even though she’s no longer there. I miss her so. Yet even in this, I believe she has accomplished the task set for her- to show me the meaning of love, pure and unfettered by human concerns.

So now, I say good bye to my sweet little girl. You have done so well. I love you very much. Look for me in heaven. Now, go chase Snoopy!

Dear Lord, I thank you for Mikey, for her steadfast devotion and care for me. Words cannot express my heart right now. I humbly ask, that as Mikey was to me, make me to You. Let me be faithful. Let me love You, as Mikey loved me. When you call, let me turn and listen, and not be distracted by the cares of this life. And in doing so, let Your will be done. Amen.

Summer at Epworth-by-the-Sea,1979

2011-01-29T19:13:00.004-05:00

Many years ago, when I was but a teenager, I had the privilege to attend a bible camp for teenagers at Epworth-by-the-Sea. (I had forgotten and was thinking it was called Epsom-by-the-sea, after the bath salts. The water there certainly tasted nasty!) I remember it took a week out of football practice during the summer. After a 5 hour bus ride we arrived at the campgrounds. $90 bought a week of lodging in the cabins and cafeteria food, which would be considered a bargain now, but back then was a small investment.

Pastor Bob Becknell organized the trip. [pictured] He was a man filled with peace, joy and grace; one could see it each time he preached. The love of Christ was so beautifully evident in him! The week’s schedule was filled with all kinds of various activities: scripture memorization; study groups; trips to the beach; softball, volleyball and football; evening preaching; and scheduled special events of silliness.

As an example of silliness, the teenagers would compete, boys verses girls, in an effort to raise money so that folks could go to camp who could not afford it. As a caveat, the victor would enjoy the spoils of "slave day," where the losing side would act as butlers or maids during one dinner service. Now, the girls would knock themselves out doing everything they could to raise more money than the boys. Little known to them, we had a secret plan.

You see, the boys would schedule a Saturday where we would wash cars all day for free at a local bank, and get pledges from the neighborhood for each car washed, usually 5 to 10 cents per car. We would accept donations as well. Then, we would stage a mock "auction night" at Youth Ranch. Crudely painted tin gallon cans with the words "Skylab" painted on them would fetch $700, a remarkable sum at the time. The girls would sit and fume as teenagers without a penny to their name would bid 400, 500, 600 dollars! To top it off, the guy with the winning bid (which was always pre-planned) would whip out the cash and walk up to buy it in front of everyone, beaming over his new hunk of junk.

In the mornings we would have quiet time, where we would read and memorize scripture. I still remember some scripture to this day, 31 years later. Let’s see…. “Whoever lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all men liberally. But let him ask in faith, nothing wavering, for he that wavereth is like a wave of the sea, driven by the wind and tossed.” Not quite perfect, but close.

Teenagers need wisdom, because although they feel grown up, in most cases they lack the life experiences to make good decisions. Spiritual wisdom is to be especially desired, for to be led by the Holy Spirit is a precious gift indeed. More valuable than money, more prized than any earthly gains, the Holy Spirit lights the path which we must walk, in order to avoid losing our way amidst the jungle of cares that concern us.

We had “kangaroo court,” a stylized, self-mocking send up of third world justice if there ever was one. Lee, the king of the court, would don a towel over his back in the manner of a royal cape and read the list of offenses. We would be called up (we being, the most annoying of us- I was usually first,) one at a time, to hear what we had done. Such crimes as “throwing shaving cream-filled water balloons,” “sedition,” “treason,” “throwing food in the lunchroom,” and the ever popular “peeking in the window of the girls cabin” were all among the charges. The Smith brothers, Wesley and Weldon, two fast, hulking completely insane twins served as bailiffs.

What made it amusing was not only the fact that some of the charges were completely false, but to hear the excuses being made by the victim/accused. “It’s… it’s… it’s VERNON’s fault! Yeah! He tempted me!!!! I DIDN’T DO IT! NOOOOooooooo!!!” Even better was when the accused tried to make a break for it. They would be dragged back, kicking and screaming by the terrible twosome. The punishment was always something equally silly, like peanut butter facials, motor oil shampoos, public admittances of said acts, etc.

These and many more beautiful unwritten memories remain with me. I am thankful for those times, and for those who were with me. Thank you, Lord.

G.Houtchens

Snoopy in the Fast Lane

2011-01-29T17:13:00.002-05:00

Snoopy was such a wonderful dog. He had a penchant for getting into trouble, and yet, I could never blame him. He just did what came naturally! For example, he would dig underneath my chain link fence in the back yard. I knew when I let him out, he would wait until I was not looking, then go to work. Dig, dig dig! He should have worked for the Army Corps of Engineers, or been a professional thief, perhaps. Once he got a hole big enough, it was squeeze, squeeze squeeze and OUT he would bound for freedom! Yes! The capability and culpability of running around the neighborhood, free, tongue hanging out slackjawed from his mouth as he ran and ran. Mikey would alert me because she refused to participate in Snoopy's illegal and nefarious deeds. She would begin whining and groaning and throwing a fit after she was left behind.

Out I would go to look for him. Usually he could be found in one of the neighboring yards, but I always worried he would get himself into trouble, or worse. Bells Ferry Road was out behind my house, past the woods, and cars there drove fast. It is not quite a highway, but 40-45 mph is common.

One day, Snoopy got out and I could not find him. I called and called but he did not answer. So I made sure Mikey was safe inside the house, and then hopped into the truck. "SNOOOOPYYYY!" I called out as I drove down streets in our neighborhood, my eyes and ears open for any sign of him. He was nowhere to be found. I was worried and prayed for his safety. I loved him very much and was very concerned.

I decided to drive out to Bells Ferry Road and as I came to the intersection, I saw a flash of white fur by the sign to the neighboring subdivision across the road. I waited for a space to open in traffic and pulled out, then into the road caddy corner across the street. I parked and hopped out of the truck with the leash I had brought along, but Snoopy did not try to run away. Instead he rolled over on his back and smiled at me and wagged his tail, swishing the pine needles furiously underneath him as he panted. What a glorious reunion! I hugged him and let him kiss me, then we put the leash on, and he hopped into the cab of the truck.

You might wonder if there is a reason I relate this story. You see, many years ago, Jesus told a story very similar to this one. Jesus was eating with people that the religious leaders looked down upon, tax collectors and sinners. After receiving criticism from them, he told them this parable, from Luke 15: 4 “Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Doesn’t he leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? 5 And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders 6 and goes home. Then he calls his friends and neighbors together and says, ‘Rejoice with me; I have found my lost sheep.’ 7 I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.

As I mentioned in my previous article about the Lord's Prayer, we all do what comes naturally, even when it may result in serious consequences. But Jesus is the good shepherd. We need spiritual insight to discern dangers we cannot see or understand. How much more is the love of God in Christ compared to our own earthly, faulty love! I can hardly believe it, but it's true.

So we come to you, Lord. Let us love you even as Snoopy loved me, with a pure heart. I love you!

The Lord's Prayer

2011-01-11T08:00:00.008-05:00

The Lord's Prayer

I have been considering this for a while- considering the words of the Lord's Prayer. Jesus was preaching to the multitude at one point in his ministry and a question/request came from the crowd. "Teach us to pray." It was a moment that has been and shall remain a time where unexpected wisdom, humility, understanding, and love poured from the lips of our savior. They reveal his compassion, his message, and his gentleness. So come, now, and join me in prayer! (control-click to open the music while keeping this page open)

Our Father

God is our spiritual father. He made us. We come from him, and ultimately we will return. He loves us with a love so deep and so powerful we cannot even fathom its nature. Words do it injustice. If the Holy Spirit draws us, we cry out, "Abba, Father," in our spirits, much as a baby cries out. "Suffer not the little children to come unto me, for such is as the kingdom of God." Jesus described the Fatherly love of God in the parable of the prodigal son.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N3TYkAWRdU4

Who Art in Heaven

Heaven is a place we cannot understand, from our perspective. It is beyond the bounds of our earthly senses, yet it exists, even as God HHHimself does. Our limited understanding of the spiritual realm is hampered, yet, even as we see the beauty of His workmanship in nature and in the creation of the universe, heaven must also reflect His glory. He and His creation are both… beautiful. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MkdMOauMAys&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QJHUe3dbfz0&feature=related

Hallowed be Thy Name

The Lord is holy. He is all powerful, all good, all love. He is separate, sacred, and worthy of all praise and adoration. Even with all this, He chooses to be intimately involved in our lives, if we will only let Him. For He desires that we choose to follow Him voluntarily. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EduKNYVBKH8&feature=related

Thy Kingdom Come

Jesus told many parables about the kingdom of God. When he was taken before the Roman governor Pilate, he was questioned about being the king of the Jews. Jesus replied that his kingdom was not of this world. He referred to a spiritual kingdom; Christ in us, the hope of glory. Therefore, when I pray for His kingdom to come, I am praying for His presence in my spirit, and for me to recognize and accept His lordship and rulership in my heart and over my life. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h89-3_kIRDA&feature=related

Thy Will be Done, on Earth as it is in Heaven

God is not slow, where some count slowness. Rather, He is patient and longsuffering. He is willing that none should perish, but that all should come to repentance. It is His will that we seek Him and grow close to Him. Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, strength and mind, and love your neighbor as yourself. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rpMSl5N-LEs

Give Us This Day, our Daily Bread

And when he had given thanks, he broke the bread, and said, Take, eat: this is my body, which is broken for you: this do in remembrance of me. And again, man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God. Jesus and God’s word- we need each daily. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W4CapSBM8UA&feature=related

And Forgive Us our Trespasses as We Forgive Those Who Trespass Against Us

My sins are personal, they are willfully committed. I ask that You forgive me and change me, by the payment of Your son Jesus on the cross. I forgive all who have ever done me wrong. Let those things not count against them, and bless them. We all like sheep need to be lead, myself foremost. Help us all that we may reflect not our own hurts on others, but rather, that they may see Your *love* through us!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xOGoArobkkk&feature=related

Lead Us Not into Temptation, but Deliver Us from Evil

Let those who are weak call upon God, for in our weakness is His strength made manifest, so that He may be glorified. When we fall, his mercy is greater that our sin. We are encouraged to run the race with perseverance, as we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses. Lord I yield to You- let your strength be with me that temptation may be resisted; for I can do nothing, but You can do anything.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HMGQBs3TZaA

For Thine is the Kingdom and the Power and the Glory, Forever and Ever

When Snoopy was still alive, I would watch from the back porch as he and Mikey would chase each other around my backyard in total abandon, running and barking and loving every moment. I would marvel at them, just loving them as I watched them go. People are much the same way, although without the chasing. We do our thing, and God watches us with love, desiring that we commune with Him. For you see, all the moments of our lives are gifts from Him; the good to rejoice in; the bad, to learn from. Thank you, Lord, for all the times and moments of my life! For now we see through a glass, darkly, but then face to face. Life is all about Him.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Qp11X6LKYY

Red Light, Green Light

2010-10-09T16:35:00.001-05:00

Red Light, Green Light

Traffic is always a pain. What exactly is the matter with these people? Don't they know not to turn left at that intersection in downtown Woodstock? Don't they know I have to get to work to get busy with all the stuff I have to do? It may be a good thing that my horn is not working, or some folks may have gotten a piece of my mind. It's frustrating, like lines that students have to get into at school, only for adults.

Yet in the hustle and bustle of traffic, as I sometimes take time to pray for my students and others I know, I remember the verse Psalm 46:10 "Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the Earth."

It was in the midst of heavy traffic one day that I realized the awesome blessing in disguise that I was being presented with. The red lights, the stop signs, the blue hairs... they all provide an opportunity- right there, in our personal transportation bubbles of metal and glass. An opportunity for God to speak, if only we will pause for a moment, and listen.

So then, red lights are not necessarily something to become vexed over. Rather, they provide a chance for us to put everything on pause, and to listen to the God of the universe, the One who loves us and wants to be involved in our lives. So that in fact, the green light can be turned on in our lives spiritually. What does He have to say to you? Thank you, oh Lord, for Your love !

G.Houtchens
Armchair coach
Amateur historian

The Littlest Cross

2010-10-09T16:23:00.003-05:00

The Littlest Cross

Several years ago I was invited by a colleague, Debbie, to attend her daughters' wedding. I felt honored, and of course I said yes. However, one thing I have noticed about myself, is that I am not a real social animal. I socialize all day long with students in classes and teachers at other times and by the time I get home I am just ready to chill out. I kind of feel like a fish out of water in many social situations; I'm pretty introverted, in spite of my over the top performances in the classroom.

Now it just so happens that the place where the wedding took place in Dunwoody is in the same plaza that my church was in when I was a teenager growing up- a little place called Calvary Baptist Church. There were larger, grander churches elsewhere in the neighborhood, but this place was special. It was pastored by a wonderful, beautiful man, Reverend Bob Becknell. I stopped by to see if the quaint old church was there, but when I arrived, the building was gone, a victim of "progress." All that was left was sort of a waist high wooden wall against a small hill on the side. An automobile brake shop stood in the place where Calvary Baptist Church once was. I remembered the people I knew there, and the blessing it was to have been a part of that.

So I'm all dressed up in a tie (ugh!) and everyone knows one another and they are all milling about after a beautiful ceremony, getting eats and generally having a grand time. I'm feeling kind of lonely, even surrounded by people, so I mosey out by the foyer away from the crowd where there are windows that peek through foliage and trees past the front entrance into the sunlight. I'm getting a little misty, thinking that Reverend Bob is probably long gone by now, along with the church, wishing I could speak with him once more. (That's beside the fact that Mr. Perpetually Single himself is at a wedding, but that's another ball game.) I happened to glance out through the green leaves through the window, and what to my surprise should I see?

Off in the distance, well past the plaza on a hill, a small cross on the steeple of one of those large churches was peeking through as the wind moved the leaves aside. I watched that little cross for a long time, just looking out through that window. As I pondered at why I should see this cross, here, now, I felt a peace come over me. It was as if God was reminding me that He had not forgotten me, or the people I once knew and the times we had there. I cried, but kept myself together.

Sometimes God speaks to us in ways we do not expect or anticipate. The smallest thing, a gesture or a word spoken quietly and with love can have a profound affect on others. It can be a way we share His love... the same way He did that windy afternoon when He reminded me that although the church was gone, neither I nor those who were there with me were forgotten.

G.Houtchens
Armchair coach
Amateur historian

The Island of Misfit Toys

2010-08-10T05:42:00.004-05:00

The Island of Misfit Toys

I was in a massive rut this weekend, especially on Friday and part of Saturday. Just feeling down and a bit upset. I realize these feelings come and go, so I just sort of held on through the weekend. As I was walking through the slightly cluttered living room on Sunday, I paused to reflect on this and the memory from a childrens show about Rudolph the red nosed reindeer came to me.

In the show there was an island of misfit toys. Each of them had some unusual difficulty they faced. There was a bird that swam but could not fly, a Jack in box named Charlie, a choo choo with square wheels, and an airplane that could not fly. They all had several things in common. One was that no little boy or girl in the world wanted them because they were different. Another was their universal anguish at not being accepted; not being loved. Also, they all wanted to go with Santa to be presented to loving children on Christmas day.

By now, you have probably guessed where I am going with this. All of us here on Earth are misfits in one way or another. Some have unfulfilled love; others, unrealized hopes or missed loved ones. Death, divorce, and tragedy mark us all in ways we do not see, but are real nonetheless.

It seems at times, it’s impossible to carry all that can weigh one down, but there is hope. Jesus says, My yoke is easy, and my burden light. Cast your cares upon Him, for He cares for you. God can help, and He desires to be involved in our lives.

Now this may seem to be a pat answer. One might think, that this has nothing to do with my circumstances and it’s not going to help pay my bills, help my relationship with my spouse, or satisfy my boss. Perhaps. But when the spiritual is engaged, when prayer is utilized, there are things unseen which transcend our earthly concerns that begin to move. Angels, who are as real as you or me, act. God’s Holy Spirit can change the hearts of men. He can change us.

I believe that God does not desire for our brokenness to be the center of our attention. Paul compared our lives to a great race, with spectators looking down from heaven. It’s hard to run with our eyes on ourselves and the weights we carry. Let us run the race freely then, without our gripping hold on the weights that we have no control over whatsoever.

May the peace that passes all understanding guard our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, until that final day- Christmas day. When our lives will be unwrapped and we will be presented to the Lord of Love, the one who loved and gave himself for us, while we were yet… misfits.

G.Houtchens
armchair coach
amateur historian

The Message

2010-07-29T16:49:00.002-05:00

It's true. Some people don't find out until it's too late, that they need another life. If you've never had a radical, personal, life-changing experience with Jesus, then you really need to. It's not enough to know intellectually- even the demons believe, and tremble. It's a spiritual thing- a heart thing.

The great thing about it is it's so very simple. Believe that Jesus died on the cross for you. Repent, and ask Jesus into your heart. He's calling right now, with a voice that cannot be heard with human ears. Those who come to God must come to Him in spirit and truth, believing that He is, and that He rewards those who diligently seek him. So knock on the door that is even now before you, and believe.

Why do I write of this? It's because one of the last things Jesus said on this Earth, before going to be with God. He said to spread the gospel- the good news, that man's sin is forgiven by His sacrifice.

You see, when it all comes down to it, all the things that we count as important, don't really matter. We come into this world naked, and in the end we will all leave everything behind. We all seem to suffer from perennial tunnel vision, living for and in reaction to our senses, our emotions, our next big thing. So what's it all about then? It's all about Him. That's what life is all about.

Jesus, you are Lord! I *thank you* for all you have done. I love you.

Glenn

Glenn Was Wrong

2010-07-13T09:36:00.010-05:00

You Are Doing It Wrong

Edit: Okay, all right. I'm not liking this a bit, BUT... It looks like I was wrong. The guy evidently had second thoughts about his family which he left behind in Iran. His comments about getting abducted seem to be a sham in order to keep them from being murdered. Can't blame the guy. I'll change the label and eat some humble pie. DANG I hate it when I am wrong, but at least I can admit it. This does not mean the US does not kidnap people in foreign countries- I'm sure agents of the CIA do, but not in this case. Sigh. At least no one reads this rag. Next time I will wait at least one day before posting stuff that makes me look like an idiot. (See article below.)

What a mess. Many older people of my generation remember the Carter years. We remember our spineless president who capitulated to the Ayatollah Khomeni in "diplomacy" and "talks" as his country took 66 embassy workers as "spies," holding them hostage. This was compounded by the failed rescue attempt in Operation Eagle Claw which killed eight American servicemen.

Now in Guantanamo, both Bush and Obama have failed to have military tribunals for all detainees due to heel dragging and a decision from the supreme court limiting presidential authority. Surprisingly, or perhaps not, Obama further ordered all military tribunals in progress halted. This does not sit well with me as these men deserve justice, not limbo. To compare, Iranians seize civilians in a sovereign embassy, we seize militants in Afghanistan. So now we have these men who were training to attack American civilians in limbo. Iran has also captured British sailors in Iraqi waters and civilian hikers on the border holding them prisoner. The British sailors were released because Iran's leaders knew Britain would flatten the country if they were not.

One would think in this situation we have the moral high ground. Forget about it now. The CIA screwed it up. They captured an Iranian nuclear scientist, Shahram Amiri, to pump him for information about Iran's nuclear program. They evidently whisked him away from Saudi Arabia while on pilgrimage, only now, he has escaped to the Pakistani embassy and is demanding to be repatriated to Iran. Oops.

Now look, we all know there are spies and they do their dirty work behind the scenes. Take for example the Russian gold digger Anna Chapman who tried to ingratiate herself to the British princes Harry and William.

Here's the point: When you run these kinds of operations, you legitimize countries like Iran and North Korea basically kidnapping any westerner and holding them hostage. Carter, to his credit, stepped up immediately and admitted his responsibility for the failed rescue attempt. I won't be holding my breath for Obama to do the same in this foreign policy blunder.

G.Houtchens
armchair coach
amateur historian

Somebody STOLE my Red Pen !

2010-07-10T11:55:00.003-05:00

About 6 years ago, around the time that "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" came out, I had a young man in my class that I will call "Mike." Mike was a class clown, always looking for a laugh, and never seriously interested in school. We got along fairly well; I think he appreciated my dedication to teaching along with my sense of humor.

Mike came to class one day, wearing a tall white top hat, giant googly white glasses, and black nail polish. Whenever I would look in his direction, he would blurt out, "DON'T STARE AT ME !" to which I finally had to break down laughing as he looked like a complete spectacle. "I'm sorry," I would reply, still laughing, "I have to look at you to teach you."

Now at that time I was still using the overhead projector for class notes. As was often the case, whenever I misplaced an overhead pen, usually the red colored one, I would state, "Somebody STOLE my red pen!" I would look through my desk drawer and through assorted papers and overhead sheets. It became a running gag of sorts, in homage to the early comedy of Steve Martin.

Mike's antics continued throughout the year, and finally I was able to give him a small dose of his own comedic medicine. He came into class chewing gum one day, and I directed him to make a deposit in the gum bank (which is the trash can.) As he came up to throw the gum away, I placed my finger over my lips after he passed as I walked over to his desk and discreetly slid the red overhead pen into his notebook. The class immediately caught on to my gag and began to giggle.

Turning on the overhead projector, I exclaimed, "Somebody STOLE my red pen!" looking around my desk. Mike immediately chimed in blurting out, "Oh, no, not THAT dumb joke again!" He rolled his eyes and made sort of a show out of it, mocking me. The class broke up into stitches knowing what was coming.

"Wait a minute..." I frowned, focusing on him because of his outburst. "I'll bet YOU are the one who has been stealing my pens!" I pointed my finger as the class practically erupted. "Oh yeah, RIGHT!" Mike replied.

I approached his desk keeping a straight face, picked up his notebook and gave it a shake. "Ah HAH!" I exclaimed as the red pen came out. I picked it up and held it aloft for the class to see. He was completely surprised as the class broke out in laughter, but appreciated the humor. "You set me up," he declared, smiling. We had a good class day of learning after that.

Teaching has become progressively more difficult over the years, with ever more duties and responsibilities assigned with less time to take care of classroom related tasks. It's times like these, which are not forgotten, that make the effort worth it.

G.Houtchens
armchair coach
amateur historian

Exporting Death

2010-07-07T08:51:00.003-05:00

Exporting Death

As of today, the Houtchblog will no longer be mentioned in my class. Never again. Why? Because today I am breaking the politically correct shell and allowing the egg to ooze out, in all it's nasty glory. I will no longer remain silent on this topic.

The chess pieces of history are in motion. There are very real spiritual consequences for these moves, although the players I fear (our political leaders) are blind, deaf and dumb in those regards. How can they not see? The seeds which were sown 224 years ago appear to have not only flowered, but are now bearing fruit. Certainly, those who would buy votes with wealth redistribution would also use their influence to spread a more sinister ideology, with the lives of millions in the balance.

I saw, yes you guessed it, another documentary, that changed my mind about some preconceptions I had, with regards to our founding fathers. Yes, they were brave, bold, keenly intelligent, and steadfast in their determination to break free from the yoke of England. Most of them I fear, were also humanists, members of the Masonic Society, and Christians in name only.

Corruption however, has a way of spreading like water pouring into the cracks of a sidewalk. The more 'power' there is, the more the waters of corruption are present. The Roman Catholic Church was not immune to this during the days of indulgences and the inquisition.

I am referring to the story yesterday found here. Previously, Kenya has not allowed abortions to be performed. Our ambassador to Kenya, Michael Ranneberger, has promised Kenyan officials two million of our tax dollars to support a constitution (which, incidentally, legalizes abortion.) Vice President Biden is quoted as saying "If you make these changes, I promise you, new foreign private investment will come in like you've never seen," in a speech he delivered last month.

It is reported that Biden has promised Obama would visit the country, but only if the constitution (with the abortion legalization) is passed.

Meanwhile, there has been opposition to a US style constitution for these very reasons. On June 13th, an anti-constitution prayer service was interrupted when two bombs exploded, killing six and injuring over one hundred more, according to a Kenyan newspaper. Additionally, three members of the Kenyan parliament were arrested June 16th for "hate speech." Conveniently, they are the leaders of the opposition against this version of the constitution.

So then, it appears as though we (Americans) have become that which we hate. We are exporting governmental and ideological frameworks to foreign countries, to the detriment of the unborn, in the name of ... freedom? May God have mercy on us all.

G.Houtchens
armchair coach
amateur historian

A Page of Notes

2010-07-06T09:56:00.008-05:00

A Page of Notes

I’m an avid newsreader, preferring to read of national and international events of importance rather than listening to talking heads. I also enjoy documentaries of different kinds, usually involving war and history. Recently, there were two stories I read or watched; it took a while of simmering in my noggin until I saw where these two stories intersected. They appear at different times in history and each has lessons that are apt for today.
The first was a story about the actual Boston Tea Party. It can be found here:

Fascinating. Although the writer was a liberal hack, he came up with some interesting facts and ideas. Here they are in no particular order.
1. Americans were mad, John Hancock in particular, that the British were reducing the cost of tea in America to cut into the illegal tea trade.
2. The British government required all tea to be purchased through them.
3. The British government was subsidizing the East India Tea Company much as Obama and Bush subsidized the banking industry. Consumers were not buying tea with its inflated cost. But wait, there’s more!
4. The author makes a comparison between the tea party of the 1700’s and the tea party of today. He says that it was moral outrage over the taxes themselves that drove the movement, and that it is moral outrage today that drives the Tea Party advocates of today- of the gap between, as he puts it, the “Responsibles and the Deadbeats,” or as Neal Boortz puts it, the “Producers and the Moochers.”

The author tries to defend the incredible amounts of government money which is being spent as well as pointing to the modern Tea Party as zealots who demand the “Deadbeats” be punished. Punished by… not stealing it from those who earned it by way of government?
Here is the way I see it- our current government is duplicating the events of the past which resulted in the colonies break from England. Keep this in mind as we continue.

The Korean War is sometimes called, “The Forgotten War.” I was not too familiar with the specifics of the events until I watched a 2 hour documentary over the weekend. America was just coming out of WWII, many of her valiant young men had died defending freedom against the aggressive Nazis. The Soviet Union, taking advantage of the positioning of her armies, turned all of east Europe into soviet communist puppet states, along with North Korea. Their philosophy was one of expansionism. In 1950, North Korea invaded South Korea with the goal of “unifying the country.” Truman sent in General Douglas MacArthur to stop the invasion.

Over the course of several years, the battle went back and forth, each command overextending its supply lines and being driven back. Finally, MacArthur had the North Korean army on the run and had driven them almost to the border with China. What happened next, no one including MacArthur could foresee. The Chinese had amassed a 250,000 man army to retake the north in a chilling winter campaign that our troops were ill prepared for. (You would think they would have learned after Bastogne.) In a series of retreats, the US and United Nations fought back, the Chinese sustaining 150,000 casualties, the US, 50,000. Instead of having the resolve of FDR and sending the troops needed to win, Truman blinked and backed down, agreeing to an armistice ceasing hostilities. Christian Koreans caught behind enemy lines were slaughtered. Civilians were brutally cut down in the hundreds of thousands. Does any of this sound familiar? (Obama does not send troops to Afghanistan at the request of his generals, instead waiting until mounting public pressure and 3 months of studies forces him to do so.)

MacArthur was furious at Truman’s lack of support during a war time operation, and refused to be silenced, much as a recent general who also spoke out against our current president.
My point: There are costs to be counted in ceasing to be firm in the defense of liberty. What was the cost? 60 years of tyrannical rule in North Korea has resulted in 2 million deaths from starvation in the last decade… from starvation, this in spite of relief efforts. North Korea now has the bomb, (thanks, Clinton!) and has tried to export this technology to Syria. North Korea, to put it mildly, has become an unstabilizing influence in the world, threatening war as they did back in 1950.

What do these two events, the Boston Tea Party and the Korean War have in common? The lack of foresight to learn from the lessons of the past. It is true that George Bush was mislead into believing that Iraq had weapons of mass destruction, at least those not given to him by his father in the first place (gas weapons that were used against the Kurds.) However, the regime of Saddam Hussein was brutally horrific by any standard, and in waging this war, and winning, it is my belief that inadvertently he may have saved many more lives than those which have been lost during the war.

History will be the judge of the actions and inactions of our leaders. God will be the judge of us all.

G.Houtchens
armchair coach
amateur historian

Liturgy for the Pre Born

2010-06-29T07:52:00.003-05:00

I was referred to this video by a friend of mine named Phillip. There is a war going on, but the war is not on the battlefield. It is in the minds and hearts of men. The stakes, to put it mildly, are high. To loosely quote the pastor, there are those who say that good is evil and evil is good, and this philosophy is actually believed. Truly, as a society with cars, computers, telephones, and all manner of technology, we are no better than those who threw their children into the fire in worship of false gods. May God have mercy on us.

Prayer

2010-06-28T17:58:00.004-05:00

Prayer

Well, a new blog entry. I’m thrilled. Frankly, I’ve been doing other things over the summer, starting and stopping the rewrite of my novella several times, writing poetry, and generally chilling out. Several articles had come to mind, but 1. I did not want the Houtchblog to just become a place where I complained about things and 2. I didn’t think anybody read it.

So, with that out of the way, I’d like to invite anyone and everyone out there to pray with me. Prayer is something that changes things. The unknown and invisible is engaged, and while seemingly futile from the world’s standards, angels act and tremors silently resound. God Himself responds to prayer. So please join me.

Dear God,

I thank you so very much for this journey, my life. Each day, each moment, is a blessing from above. I humbly ask You to forgive me of my sin, which I have willingly wrapped around myself. Like vines, it has grown but You are the ultimate gardener. You look down on our lives with love, mercy and compassion. Help us and forgive us all. We all so desperately need You. I need you. Forgive us by the blood of your son, Jesus.

I thank you for the long lives of my family, Amy, mom and dad. Their presence has been a comfort to me, knowing they are there and being able to lean on them in times of difficulty. I pray they would direct their eyes towards You, that You might receive glory.

I pray for those who have passed, that You might gather them and receive them to where You are, that Your will might be done. Comfort them and grant them peace. I pray for Bubba Hartsfield, Cindy Farbolin, Harry Weisgerber, Craig Staples, Reverend Bob Becknell, and all those I knew in high school and college. Bless them and keep them. Let Your love, which is beyond thought or understanding, shine upon them.

I pray for my students and colleagues, especially the following, who have passed: Floyd Neece, Michael Stemen, Joshua Runyan, Tasha Morris, Steven Shipman, Donna Deaton, and Stefan Ngkonchin. Gather them and keep them Lord, and comfort them, that Your will might be done, and that You might receive glory.

I pray also for all the students I have had that were troubled, especially those I did not get along with. Bless them, You know who they are. Guide them, protect them. Let them come to a place where they look to You and see Your love! I pray also for the silent ones, the non verbal ones whose life issues are no less important, and just as relevant. I thank you for the countless times You have intervened in our lives on our behalf without us even knowing. Thank You for Your love, Lord !

It seems that the world is focused on earthly things, much as it was in Pilate’s day. Open our eyes that we might see, our ears that we may hear what You would tell us. For what we see is the illusion, what we hear is the temporal.

I thank you for my companions, the ones whom You personally brought into my life to teach me about love, Snoopy and Mikey. If there is a place for dogs, I pray you would especially bless Snoopy. Please help Mikey in her old age.

Thank you for Pastor Alex and Caroline. Bless them in their ministry at Calvary Chapel, Ayre. Please also bless Steven Hunter and all the folks I have met at Christ the Redeemer.

Thank you for Jesus. Thank you for our times here. Thank you for our trials, our joys, our sorrows. When it comes down to it, our whole existence here really is all about You. Give us strength, desire, and a willingness to live in such a way. Amen.

An Open Letter to my Junior Beta Club Members

2010-02-11T04:33:00.000-05:00

Beta Club is not just about getting good grades, although that’s certainly one of the qualifications. Being a Beta, to me it seems, is about service; service done from a pure motivation, not in order to be seen and admired.

In the news in recent years I have seen lots of stories about “giving back to the community.” I am of a mixed view on this idea. Yes, it’s true- we are our brother’s keeper, and we are to watch out and help our fellow man. But we are not to do this because we have a debt to pay to our fellow man. Rather, we can help others because it is the right thing to do.

I’m far from perfect. I sometimes say things that hurt others feelings. I am forgetful and aloof. I am, in some things, selfish and private in not sharing myself with others. These are things I am working on to change, with God’s help. When you help others, it changes your heart, just a little bit. That’s what service in Beta club is all about.

G.Houtchens

Armchair coach

Amateur historian

Writer's Cramp

2009-11-28T11:10:00.007-05:00

Been busy over this Thanksgiving break, but have managed to get some writing done. Unfortunately for this blog, the majority of that writing has been for my novel, which is just for fun. It's fan fiction which means it uses a setting which has already been established. Legally, this means I can write all I want as long as I never make a penny off of it, which is fine by me.

To that aim, I have also been reading a book which has given me great insights into the art of writing fiction. It's called Make A Scene, by Jordan E. Rosenfeld, and I have been engrossed in the incredible insights it has into making fiction *good* fiction. For any aspiring writers out there, let me mention a few ideas I have gleaned:

1. Every scene must have a purpose. It must reveal information or tell us something about the characters that is pivotal to the plot. The main character might be fascinating to you, but the fact that his boyhood dog broke its leg or is repelled by acorns is irrelevant and will bore the reader.

2. Keep them wanting more. Don't reveal everything at once. Make it a MYSTERY. Why does the main character become stone cold silent when his past is mentioned? Why are he and the antagonist sworn enemies? This allows you to feed it to the reader in bits, like a trail of bread crumbs, with the pastry or danish along the way as a reward.

3. NEVER reveal plot secrets through narration. Always reveal the answers to the stories questions through action or dialog. Let me give a familiar example that will help explain.

Luke sat at the desk in his study. There had to be a connection. Why was Vader interested in *him* of all people. And why did *he* have the force being just a poor farm boy from Tatooine? "Of course!" he thought as he smacked his fist into his hand. Darth Vader was his father!

BOOORIIING !

Darth Vader loomed above Luke on the small platform, the wind swirling his black cape. Luke hung on beneath him, the depths spiraling down below. "LUKE. I AM YOUR FATHER. Join me, and together we'll rule the galaxy as father and son!" Vader leaned over, extending his open hand towards his son. Luke's face contorted, twisting in rage and anguish. "NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!" he screamed, the truth slicing him to the core of his soul. He looked up one last time, then in defiance, consciously let go of the handhold, falling to his certain doom.

Now THAT'S drama, baby! Basically, its just more effective to reveal plot information through action and dialog because it allows characters to respond, and the reader to respond along with them.

4. Vary the pace. Action. Suspense. Conflict. Followed by a slower pace. A time for rest. Then speeding things up again. Yes, its the same dramatic formula that is used in every professional wrestling bout, but it works. Here are two examples of how not to do it:

In the TV show 24, many times the action gets so very hectic that it takes 3 split screens to show all stuff going on, simultaneously. It's action overload. Then, it never stops. The characters continuously whisper to each other until it gets so annoying that I start rooting for the bad guys to win. WILL YOU JUST KILL THEM SO THEY WILL SHUT UP????? They are seriously insulting my intellect by expecting I suspend my disbelief.

In Asimov's Foundation series there is a serious lack of action. many of the events are just intellectual excursions. hundreds and hundreds of pages of narrative, discussing thoughts that are a work of genius, but lacking any action whatsoever. the pace stays the same. It just goes on... and on... and on... zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.................

5. Start the story with something interesting, which will have the reader asking questions. In movies, this is called the "teaser." It's meant to grab their attention and keep it. It does not have to be a chase scene like in the Bond movies, but it should center on some kind of action and tell us something about the main character.

6. The middle of the story is meant for conflict. Throw that hero into the fire! (figuratively) Then once they are out of the fire, throw them into the bigger one you have planned! Let that villain triumph and sneer with contempt as he throws the switch (or does whatever he would do considering the characters, revealing the hero's secret, beats the boxer to a pulp, steals the boyfriend/girlfriend, etc.)

7. The end of the story should always be the highest point of tension in the novel. Use that foreshadowing you planned earlier. Put in a twist or two- then wrap it up, tidying up the last loose ends.

These are some of the many of the changes I have planned in my first rewrite which will make the novel a much more compelling and tightly woven story. Make a Scene is everything I have been looking for in a book about writing fiction, and I strongly recommend it to anyone who writes fiction for creative satisfaction.

G.Houtchens
armchair coach
amateur historian

The Gift

2009-10-10T05:23:00.003-05:00

Once upon a time there was a certain neighborhood. It was a tradition in this neighborhood for the citizens to exchange gifts during the year with one another. Being the good people that they were, they spent a lot of time preparing these gifts that they could exchange with one another.

Over the years, trends came and left. Sometimes it was in vogue to have really elaborate gifts, wrapped nicely. Other times it was fashionable to have the gifts personalized. It was a nice, quaint setting, similar to the old Andy Griffith show. However, things would not always stay that way.

One resident decided to have extra wide, sparkly ribbons one year. Oh, how nice his gifts looked. Then, all the other neighbors had to get extra wide sparkly ribbons for their gifts, too. You see, one did not want to be the only one to have non-wide and non-sparkly ribbons. Then, someone else came up with the idea of having complex and ornately detailed bows. Of course, it was not long before everyone else was doing the same thing. This trend continued, with flowing, scripted cards, shaped, specialized packaging, and ornate, detailed levels of wrapping paper, one inside the other. Eventually someone even electrified their gift with batteries. Small blinking lights and little music players soon adorned each gift.

The stress for preparing the gifts had begun to increase, exponentially. No one wanted to be seen as giving a less impressive gift than their neighbors. All trends were scrutinized and carefully evaluated so as to have the greatest impact of being a "good" gift.

The time for gift giving arrived, and the neighbors with love and affection traded their gifts with one another, glancing comparatively at the packages they had each prepared. When the gifts were opened, however, the boxes were found to be empty. With sadness they realized that all their effort had been spent trying to make their gift look good, and no time had been left over to actually prepare the gift that they were supposed to give. They had missed the purpose of the gift entirely.

G.Houtchens
armchair coach
amateur historian

The New Declaration of Independence

2009-09-22T22:09:00.004-05:00

When it becomes established that it is necessary for a people remove themselves from the yoke of government; that freedom is no longer cherished nor free; that the government which is supposed to represent them does so in name only; that the government is no longer for the people it claims to represent, only using them to sustain itself; then the time for an accounting has come to hand.

It is true that governments should not be changed for light and transient causes. Evils committed against citizens are bearable in as much as they may be suffered. When language is changed in order to make these violations of nature, even against God's children and our fellow man negligible, when the most vile of motivations- power, greed and pride are so evidenced by our representatives so as to be a testament of themselves, it is time for those in government to rectify such maladies. Failing this, it is the right, duty, and obligation of the people to throw off such government, and to provide a new way of life. To prove this, let the following facts be submitted before a candid world:

The death of 1 million of our fellow humans each year, who are determined to be "not human" not by any genetic test, but rather by a nebulous description of their current form, not accounting the living, breathing, and loving people they may yet become.

The incitement of war in a foreign land, unjustly and unprovoked, regardless of resolutions by international bodies.

The poor vision of our leaders in providing nuclear, chemical, and weapon technology to those governments who shortly thereafter declare themselves to be our enemies.

The right to own land, firearms, and our own lives has been usurped from us.

For imposing taxes without our consent.

The representatives we elect are rife with cronyism, deception and duplicity, being more faithful to their respective political parties than to the constituents they claim to represent.

For spending money that the government does not have, depleting the value of our currency, hurting our economy and putting future generations of Americans into debt, without their consent.

For appointing, without constitutional authority, "czars" who draw tax-funded paychecks, who have no constitutional check in their power, in order to further their political agenda.

For allowing a foreign people to invade our county, against our laws, for the purpose of furthering their own power base.

For allowing us to become indebted and dependent on foreign nations, so as to be incapable of defending ourselves effectively should hostilities break out.

The desertion of foreign allies, Israel and eastern Europe, in their time of need.

This document is a petition for correction, made in a spirit of humility. Let those who serve in government observe and take action upon it, lest our country fall in it's top heavy and unbalanced state. Our country was established with the goal of avoiding the Tyrant. It is an admirable one, and worthy of pursuit. The above list of grievances, although incomplete, illustrates the necessity of self examination, and the dangers of corruption and nepotism.

With thanks to Thomas Jefferson,

G.Houtchens
armchair coach
amateur historian

Mr. Biggs

2009-07-18T10:11:00.005-05:00

Many years ago in 1977 I had the privilege of attending World History class taught by a gentleman named Frank G. Biggs. Mr. Biggs, like many teachers at Ridgeview High School, had a fascinating variety of personality quirks which made him unforgettable.

I remember sitting in his room many days, where he would do nothing but scrawl notes on the chalkboard (yes, with real chalk) in this horrible chicken scratch handwriting for the entire class. Across the board he would go, not caring that he was standing in the way as he wrote. We would bend and peer and write, write, write. It was an inconvenience at the time, but also a good way to learn the large amount of material he had to cover.

He also had many quotes which he would use over and over. "Ms. LADY! (he would then correct the student for whatever fault he found such as gum chewing or spacing out) and then he would say, "Put THAT in your pipe and smoke it!"

He had a temper, as well. After work for the class that day was finished, his expectation of us was that we would remain seated and silent until the end of class. In such an environment where you have teenage students however, the tendency was to socialize. So, a low level of hushed voices would begin about the classroom. This was, of course, stuff that just *had* to be said. Whisper, whisper, whisper. Then it would get a little bit more widespread and a little more pronounced. Murmur, murmur, murmur. More kids would join in and the noise level would increase. Mumble, mumble, mumble. Then to hear above the mumbling, talking would begin. Blab, blab, blab. At some point Mr. Biggs would come over to a desk and SLAM his hand down like an atomic bomb. BAM!!!!!!!! "I'm ALER-ER-ER-ER-ER-ERGIC TO TALKIN !!!!" He would staccato the R's and his whole body would shake with fury as his eyes bugged out of his head. We would kind of turn and look and fall into silence, our jaws dropped, worried he might have a stroke. Then the process would start over again.

The following story was related to me, but I was not present for it, so I can't vouch for it. Mr. Biggs would slam his hand down on his own desk if he was seated there. I was told that one enterprising soul got up the gumption to loosen the screws on the side of his desk one day. Sure enough, as predicted he slammed his hand down and the desk gave way on one side causing all the books, papers and stuff he had piled there to go shooting down onto the floor. I can only imagine his reaction. I don't know if the student got caught and was sent to "see THE MAN," but the story itself was notable.

He had a trump card though, if you had his class at the end of the day. If the class got loud before or after announcements, he would say, "Stop that TALKIN or you'll be RUNNIN FOR THE YELLOW."

"What? Huh?" people would ask. For those who were new or had not heard it, this was his way of saying that he would hold the class after, so we would have to run to make our bus to get home.

This is much like my own practice of using witty phrases to get what I want from my own classes. "Sit down or you'll be wearing a frown. Find a chair or you'll go nowhere. Stop talking and start walking. Stop flirtin and start workin." They are, I am proud to say, my own creation.

Last but not least, is my own escapade, if you would call it that, in Mr. Biggs class. I remember it was a hot summer day, I was bored, and Mr. Biggs was lecturing. I had a window seat, and I would gaze out onto the baseball field longing for class to be over. I noticed that the watch I wore on my right hand (with the face side on top of the wrist) would catch the sunlight as it came through the window and cause a reflection from the flat glass face onto the windowpane. Well, being particularly bored and stupid, I turned my watch towards the board and had a three inch dot of light dancing around behind him like one of those sing-a-long dots as he lectured. This got a chuckle from the class and Mr. Biggs paused, wondering what was going on. He would turn around to write notes and I would have the dot creeping up his backside like a little spy. Thankfully I stopped before I got caught, or I would have been going down to see "THE MAN."

It is with joy that I write this brief article of my time in Mr. Biggs class. He was in my own opinion, a first rate guy. And to my students, DON'T try the wristwatch-in-the-sunlight trick. I know it. I did it. And I will catch you. Then it will be your turn to see "THE MAN."

G. Houtchens
armchair coach
amateur historian

A Response to Alan

2009-06-09T18:08:00.003-05:00

A Response to Alan
(over the origin of life on Earth)

Hey Big Al !

You raised a very thoughtful and intriguing question, one that I am sure many ask themselves. Was life on Earth created in 6 literal days, or did life evolve gradually over a much longer timespan? Actually, the question itself really should be broken down into a series of other questions, because often philosophy and pre-existing assumed conditions are intermixed with the question of the origin of life. Please see my articles regarding the philosophical side of atheism and the origin of species (where I get to take on Dr. Richard Dawkins, Dr. Christopher Hitchens and other famous atheists) here: http://houtchblog.blogspot.com/2008/07/hitchens-vs-houtchens.html; http://houtchblog.blogspot.com/2008/02/in-defense-of-faith-part-ii.html; http://houtchblog.blogspot.com/2007/08/in-defense-of-faith.html. Also please see my three part series, "Do You Have an Answer?"

There is enough reading there to keep you busy for a while, but let me cut to the point of evolution, specifically. When I teach my students evolution, I precede the unit by telling them it is not important to believe evolution, but rather to understand the material so that they may 1. do well on the state mandated standardized tests and 2. so they may make an informed judgement for themselves. Skeptecism has an important place in any purely scientific investigation. Indeed, I tell them not to believe *me,* but to be wary of philosophy creeping into any scientific arguments.

From a personal standpoint, I am on the fence evolution-wise. Could life have arisen by evolution exactly as scientists say? Sure! Can it be indisputably proven? Nope! Does this water down the gospel in my opinion? No, for this would only reveal my incomplete understanding of scripture, not scripture as a representation of Gods truth as being inspired by His Holy Spirit being wrong. The more we realize how very *little* we know, both from a physical and a spiritual perspective, the better off we are.

Some (many) scientists are not willing to accept spiritual truth. They are skeptical of anything metaphysical, and this is their decision. The spiritual realm lends itself very poorly to repeated proof limited to the 5 senses. Besides, if they did, they might actually have to say "we were wrong," and THIS is what they are actually avoiding. It's philosophical arrogance.

Now, is it possible that the Earth and all things in existence formed in 6 physical days? Sure! Why not? It's not like we had someone there with a video camera recording it for posterity to disprove it.

Either way, its ok by me, because creation itself cries out God's existance ( I think that's an argument St. Paul used,) and that shows how wonderful and awesome and magnificent our Lord is.

That help? I hope so, cause I am out of time.

Peace of Christ to you-
Glenn =)

New Heroes for Season 5

2009-05-27T04:42:00.012-05:00

Yes, folks, you guessed it! Thanks to my contacts in Hollywood (who LOVES ya, baby???) I have the inside dish on the new volume of Heroes scheduled to come out in September. I am here to deliver the scoop to you, gossip-column-wise.

It was a piece of cake, duck soup, getting this exclusive info. Here are the new, quirky super-powered humans for the latest installment of that series we all know and love, Heroes. Siler will have his work cut out for him this year (no pun intended-BRAINNNSSS!) with this new A-list cast of stars making the cut for the new season.

1. Perfect Hair Man- Yes, you guessed it- John Edwards, with sidekick John Davidson, for those who remember him; their super vulnerability is mirrors; nemesis played by Donald Trump

2. Clothes Washing Man- can separate clothes into whites, colors; nitpicks his foes with rapier wit; digital recreation of Tony Randall of Odd Couple fame

3. Parallel Parking Girl- can parallel park at age 17, resists temptation to apply cosmetics and talk on cell phone while driving, played by Hannah Montana; is derailed by tuning in to "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" by Cyndi Lauper

4. The Carpet Bagger- has the super power of making carpets roll up, entrapping foes, played by Jack Black; control is sporadic, often making him the victim of his own power

5. Emo Guy- likes to talk about how he feels, all the time, even though its one emotion; classic role for Ben Stiller who will nail this performance

6. Clean Bathroom Guy- puts the seat down and leaves it looking clean; Paul Reubens- no comment

7. Hot Air- Neal Boortz, blasts libs with hot air; a cameo as himself

8. Potato Chip Dip- reprise of Steve Urkel, confounds foes with super nerdiness, scrambling their brains; recreated immaculately by Jaleel White

So I hope with this news you are looking forward to the next season as much as I am, baby! Yeah! If anyone wants to get in contact with me, I will be by the poolside sipping Shirley Temples with my associate producer, Jethro Bodine. Who LOVES ya, baby?

G.Houtchens
armchair coach
amateur historian

Trust Me, I Know What I'm Doing

2009-05-22T21:07:00.003-05:00

There was a show in the 80's that took political correctness before it became the standard by which things are judged and pushed it to it's limits. Now *anything* politically incorrect is going to have my vote. This one, decades later, still tickles my funny bone. The motto, "Trust me, I know what I'm doing," was usually followed by massive carnage. The name of the show, and the main character, was Sledge Hammer.

Inspired by the popularity of Clint Eastwood in the Dirty Harry franchise, Sledge Hammer was the inspiration of a 16 year old screenwriter. His idea of a cop that went beyond all boundaries found its way to ABC and developed a cult following, despite going up against CBS's Dallas and NBC's Miami Vice.

Made in a style similar to Get Smart, this cop spoof show has remained a lasting legacy to comedy, poofy 80's hairstyles, and wanton destruction. Ya gotta love it.

Trust me, I know what I'm doing. Hahahahahaha!

G.Houtchens
armchair coach
amateur historian

Click the movie for a sample-

A Tribute to Mr. J. L. Spain

2009-05-12T16:41:00.010-05:00

"Mmmmmmm !!!!!!!!!" he grumbled with his shiny head and jet black hair from behind the wooden podium. "To-DAY," he began, jutting out his jaw like Thurston Howell III, "we will be discussing plant re-pro-duction." His voice, although gravely, had a thick southern accent. He wore an old-fashioned dark suit and tie, and had a bulky 12 inch Motorola walkie talkie attached to his hip which connected him directly to the school office. If you caught him before or after school, he sometimes sported a fedora, made popular later by Indiana Jones.

He walked about the class, thumping the back of his head with a black rubber stopper attached to a 2 1/2 foot long wooden dowel. The teacher was Mr. Spain, one of the wonderfully eccentric, colorful, and patiently talented teachers who served at Ridgeview High School.

"MMMMmmmm !!!!" he grumbled again as a penny rolled forward towards the front of the classroom. "PENNY!" he grinned with satisfaction as he pinned it to the floor with the stopper end of his pointing stick, scooping it up. They were just pennies to us, a reason to distract the class, but to him, they held value. He had grown up in a time when a dozen pennies could buy a loaf of bread or a hamburger. He supposedly kept a count of the pennies he had acquired in class- over a thousand at one point. No one knew if he was just making up the number up or if he really did keep count.

Mr. Spain continued his lesson only to be interrupted by a young girl who was babbling with her friend. "BETH MINOR! That will be a .... Note-A-Shun...." he corrected, jutting out his chin pronouncing the word as he began to get out his book of class offenses.

"Oh, PLEASE, Mr. Spain! Don't give me a Notation. I did not know class had started. Really! I deserve a second chance."

"A second chance eh? Allright. I'll give you a second chance.... I-DEN-TIF-Y... Oogonium." (he would throw out some impossibly difficult vocab word that only the most astute would remember.)

"OOoooonnneee..." he drew the word out, as Beth, in this case, stuttered and stumbled making up some kind of purely nonsensical baloney. It was hilarious.

"Twooooo..."

"Oh, it's um, it's this thing, this plant thing, yeah, and it's got this planty kind of stuff...."

"THREE! THREE STRIKES AND YOU'RE OUT!" He would grumble to himself some more as he made the notation in his book. "Mmmmmmm...."

At one point a student began a comic strip there at the school called "The Adventures of Bubblehead," which was quite popular as I recall. It featured the Mr. Spain (Bubblehead) with the muscular body of Superman zooming into the sky to write notations, capture pennies, and destroy the Japs.

When we got bored, we would ask him to tell us stories about World War Two (also to use up class time.) I'm certain he knew our motivations, but many times he relented and regaled us with tales of his exploits. "Mr. Spain, tell us about the war!" someone would raise their hand, asking eagerly.

"I remember when I was in Burma..." his voice would grate through the silent class. "The time was twenty three hundred and forty five hours..." (military time, which made little sense to us high schoolers- HEY! The clock only goes up to TWELVE!!! But no one interrupted him, even hearing the story for the second or third time.)

"There were two girls there... MIMI and FIFI (he did not go into specifics, only telling us their names) We were in our tents that night, but the JAPS had us surrounded...." Then he would go into this speil about the fighting that occurred that night.

Such wonderful times. We did not really understand it, but we were in the presence of a war hero.

Before tests, he would have what was called the "Maaaad Minute," where anyone could ask him anything that might be covered on the test. Usually, it was filled with wise guys asking completely inane questions that had nothing to do with the class! Afterwards, he would line up our tests on his podium and grade them in just a few minutes with a thick red marker after we had taken them. This was in a time before scantrons were used.

At the end of the school year when asked to sign our yearbooks instead of writing a personalized message, he would get out a big stamp that had his signature engraved in rubber, which he would then stamp underneath his picture! How odd but truly endearing.

In retrospect, I am still very thankful to have been in his class. Yes, I have since then forgotten much of the high school biology he taught us, but he was a wonderful teacher and a wonderful person. Sadly, he has now passed on as many of our WWII vets have, but Mr. Spain, wherever you are, thank you. And here is a penny for you =).

G.Houtchens
armchair coach
amateur historian

For American Idol Fans Only

2009-04-24T04:44:00.004-05:00

For American Idol Fans only:

Recently I have observed how many, many people follow dancing and singing reality shows on TV. This includes many of my friends and colleagues on Facebook. I made a comment stating how American Idol (which in a manner of speaking, is sacrilegious,) should be permanently pre-empted by the show the $1.98 Beauty Contest. This gave me the idea for this article, which illustrates what happens when we clutter our minds with tripe.

To make my point even more pointed, here for you now is a clip from that same show. Now, THIS is how television should be done! WARNING: I take no responsibility whatsoever for those who choose to watch this video. You will most probably go deaf, dumb and blind. This is fitting if you do watch American Idol, as you are most probably deaf, dumb and blind already. Should you not be doing something more scholarly and intellectual with your time, say, maybe, playing WWF Wrestling on your XBox 360?

Rip Taylor.... This makes me embarrassed I am from the 70's. Don't say I did not warn you.

Carnac the Magnificent

2009-04-14T15:50:00.009-05:00

Carnac: The answer is.... (holding a closed envelope to his head, and "reading" what is inside)...

Michael J. Fox as a vampire hunter.

Ed McMahon: Michael J. Fox as a vampire hunter....

Carnac: [annoyed look] Do you hear an echo?

Ed McMahon: Haw! Haw! Haw!

Carnac the Magnificent opens the envelope tearing it along one side, and blows into it, removing the piece of paper. The drums roll....

Carnac: The question is... What is Stake N Shake?

Audience: BOOOO !

Carnac: May a thousand fleas build a condominium in your armpits.

I know, I know... My apologies.

G.Houtchens
armchair coach
amateur historian

PS For my students who have never seen Johnny Carson, here is a little treat:

A Touching Story of Nature

2009-04-14T15:37:00.005-05:00

I take no credit whatsoever for the following story. It bears repeating because it is so full of win, it simply begs to be told, especially for those who have not heard it.

It is a warm and emotionally heart wrenching tale, of an elephant and a man, who find love for each other in a way that will make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, especially if you are liberal. Enjoy.

In 1986, Mkele Mbembe was on holiday in Kenya after graduating from Northwestern University. On a hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air. The elephant seemed distressed, so Mbembe approached it very carefully.

He got down on one knee and inspected the elephant’s foot and found a large piece of wood deeply embedded in it. As carefully and as gently as he could, Mbembe worked the wood out with his hunting knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot. The elephant turned to face the man, and with a rather curious look on its face, stared at him for several tense moments.

Mbembe stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but being trampled. Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned, and walked away. Mbembe never forgot that elephant or the events of that day.

Twenty years later, Mbembe was walking through the Chicago Zoo with his teenaged son. As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the creatures turned and walked over to near where Mbembe and his son Tapu were standing. The large bull elephant stared at Mbembe, lifted its front foot off the ground, then put it down. The elephant did that several times then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at the man.

Remembering the encounter in 1986, Mbembe couldn’t help wondering if this was the same elephant. Mbembe summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing and made his way into the enclosure. He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder.

The elephant trumpeted again, wrapped its trunk around one of Mbembe’s legs and slammed him against the railing, killing him instantly.

Probably wasn’t the same elephant.

Wow, Prezbo Makes the Right Choice!

2009-04-11T10:08:00.008-05:00

I am amazed. I will be writing more on this later today. For now, I am glad he made the right choice and our fellow citizen is safe. See below for an excerpt from my article yesterday:

Just imagine with me for a moment: What do you think would happen if 20-30 Daisy Cutter bombs were dropped on the port from which the pirates freely operate? Do you think this piracy would cease? The world would condemn such an action, citing the poor innocents in port, who freely associate with and assist said pirates, but does the world equally condemn the absconding of millions of tons of ships and their cargo, and the taking of innocent hostages? Nope.

I am not holding my breath for the US to do the right thing. Like Clinton in the Blackhawk Down saga, (see my article on this event) our politicians would rather bend the knee to expedience than take a bold stand for what is right.

Yesterday I basically blasted Obama for being the second coming of Jimmy Carter. Now, there are still many issues I disagree with his administration on, both in foreign and domestic policies. However, I was pleasantly surprised that he could make the right call in this situation. He even got a kudo from Boortz in this instance.

At this point I am more open to see what decisions he will make. I am not optimistic, but am cautiously less disparaged about whether our president can indeed make the right calls.

G.Houtchens
armchair coach
amateur historian

Hoppin' Mad!

2009-04-02T17:49:00.006-05:00

I'm MAD! And ya know what mad means?? Thanks for asking, I'll tell ya!

Just a few articles ago, it seems like just yesterday, I gave the Houtchens seal of approval, yes, my own approval to a show that I felt was heads up and above all the rest. It was an article called "On the Supernatural," I did back in November of 2008. Remember that one faithful readers? The one where I did extensive research and compared the various supernatural reality shows?

Yes, I gave the show Paranormal State, with its founder, Ryan Buell, a thumbs up because I felt it did a better job of investigation than the other ones. NO MORE, DEAR FRIENDS! Yes, I put my intellectual reputation on the line and got BURNED. Why?

I just watched an episode where Mr. Buell and company got to research an idiot/victim who used a Ouija board to summon up all kinds of crap that was now manifesting itself in the house. Now, one might think that enough damage has been done. But OH NO.

How do they attempt to solve the problem? By using the darned board itself, and attempting to contact spirits that way. DUMB. They also videotaped the phenomenon for the viewing audience because evidently they did not have enough ghostly footage to air in the half hour episode.

It serves me RIGHT to actually endorse a tv show and then get proven wrong by Hollywood producers who insist that titillation and ratings trump intelligence.

Folks, for the record: Do NOT mess with Ouija boards, or hang out with people who do. You are asking for TROUBLE which you do not understand. Fools walk in where angels fear to tread.

After thinking it through some more, I can't really stay mad at Ryan as he is a Christian brother. However, I am upset with what occurred on that particular taping. In retrospect, I guess I am mad because I observe these folks apparently breaking one of their own rules and worry that others might try it. Unwise!

cc: Paranormal Research Society

G.Houtchens
armchair coach
amateur historian