Road Trip

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

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

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

[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

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

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

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.