Christians have hotter sex?

When my friend Dave sent me a link to an article from Psychology Today with the the title "Do Religious People Have a Hotter Sex Life?" it got my attention. I am in the midst of a three-week sermon series that is focused on women and that the third of these sermons addresses how men and women relate in the bedroom.

And then there is my choice in vocation. Most would agree that a pastor qualifies as a "religious person," so it would appear that the article speaks directly to my profession.

Then again, not quite the way I thought it would.

In short, the article suggests that religious people are having lots of sex. Just not with their spouses, unfortunately. Dr. Nigel Barber, the article's author, has the research to back up his claims. Consider these troubling statistics:

• A study of people that have sex in public restrooms reveals that the "typical" participant is "married and religious."
• Residents of highly religious states spend more time viewing internet porn than do the residents of less religious states.
• A study showed that the level of agreement with the statement, "Even today miracles are performed by the power of God" was associated with higher pornography consumption.
• States that have banned gay marriage have 11 percent more porn subscribers.
• Finally, residents of states that claim to adhere to old-fashioned family values purchase considerably more porn than those that do not.

Why the inconsistency?

Dr. Barber suggests that one of the causes might be what psychologists call "the white bear effect." That is, tell someone not to think about a white bear, and that becomes all they can think about. With regard to sex, he opines that a similar effect may be at work. The more religions tell people not to engage in illicit sex, the more they want to do so.

Although Dr. Barber might disagree - he recently authored the book Why Atheism Will Replace Religion - I think there is something deeper at work here. A spiritual dimension. Christians call it, "spiritual warfare." The Apostle Paul put it this way:

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.

The church of Christ in ancient Corinth knew something about spiritual warfare.  In his letter to these Christians who were acting as salt and light in a culture that was imbued with sexual licentiousness, Paul urged his fellow Christ-followers to win the battle of the mind. He told them to "take captive every thought and make it obedient to Christ." 

In this respect, maybe Dr. Barber is on to something. The solution is not simply, "try not to think about it." But rather to embrace sexual thinking; to acknowledge the thoughts and redirect them. To take them captive.

For too long Christians have tried to refrain from indulging their sexual appetites when, in fact, we need, instead, to retrain them on the spouses that God gives us to enjoy. Here again, Paul speaks to this:

   Now regarding the questions you asked in your letter. Yes, it is good to abstain from sexual relations. But because there is so much sexual immorality, each man should have his own wife, and each woman should have her own husband.   The husband should fulfill his wife’s sexual needs, and the wife should fulfill her husband’s needs. The wife gives authority over her body to her husband, and the husband gives authority over his body to his wife.   Do not deprive each other of sexual relations, unless you both agree to refrain from sexual intimacy for a limited time so you can give yourselves more completely to prayer. Afterward, you should come together again so that Satan won’t be able to tempt you because of your lack of self-control.

 In short, Paul counsels the Christian husband and wife to have sex, and lots of it.

It would be interesting, and probably more than a little illuminating, to learn how the level of sexual satisfaction within a Christian marriage relates to the statistics cited in the aforementioned article. I frequently tell couples that each of them is their spouse's first and best line of defense against sexual temptation. In other words, something that our great-grandparents said is probably quite true: when the home fires burn brightly, a man (or woman) is less likely to seek warmth somewhere else.

 I suggest you and your spouse test that theory out. Frequently.

Big boys, tiny trains and a REALLY BIG God

They say that the difference between men and boys is the price of their toys. Bitter Creek Western Railroad certainly confirms that sentiment.

Located about halfway between Los Angeles and San Francisco, BCWR is a 7.5 inch scale model railroad. Over a dozen times each year fully grown men descend on Bitter Creek bringing their expensive toy trains with them. Costing thousands of dollars, these intricate replicas burn coal and generate steam - enough that the wannabe engineers can pull true-to-scale box cars, log haulers and passenger coaches along the 1.2 mile mainline.

Oil cans in hand, weekend railroaders wipe smudges from their cheeks with their blue bandanas as they ready their trains prior to riding them - yes, riding them - down the tracks through four tunnels and across six bridges and trestles surrounded by a ponderosa pine studded landscape.

The railroad is owned by Karl, an otherwise regular guy who wanted a place for his friends to meet and play with trains. He has succeeded in making enormously big steam engines small enough for regular people with regular wallets to live out their childhood dreams.

Don't Christians do something similar? Aren't we called to proclaim a transcendent God in ways that finite people can wrap their heads around? We make the infinite accessible - as much as it is possible.

Paul, a first century Christian missionary wrote, " . . . we are Christ’s ambassadors . . . "

Karl Hovanitz is rightly regarded as the preeminent "Model Railroad Ambassador."

As Christians we are scale-model ambassadors of a far greater reality. How? Paul provides the answer: "We speak for Christ when we plead, 'Come back to God!'"

 

Reflections on band camp

The sun is low across the lake. It has been cool all day with an unusually high humidity for an August afternoon. Sound travels far in this heavy air. I'm sitting on a picnic table outside a dorm with a Native American name I can't pronounce.

Fifty yards away, the percussion section bangs out eighth-note triplets. To my left the tubas are practicing scales. I can feel the notes slapping against the wall of the dorm. The trombones are playing the Grand Ledge High School Alma Mater off to my right. The trumpets - out of sight somewhere between the tubas and trombones - are working their way through I Dreamed a Dream from Les Miserables. And, in the midst of the dissonance, the flag corp is on the outdoor basketball court tossing their flags in rhythm to a Lady Gaga tune. (They've somehow managed to drag a stereo to camp so Gaga can make her contribution to the musical mayhem.)

It is Band Camp 2012 at Kimball Camp.

I wonder what the neighbors' reactions are to this Sunday night cacophony. I wonder if they have any idea how blown away they'll be in about thirty minutes when the sections come together on the hastily marked out football field to play the fight song. When Mr. Blackmer hits the ignition switch on this nearly 200 horsepower music machine with trumpets blaring and percussion snapping out a rhythm that echoes through the meadow down to the water's edge and beyond.

It is an awesome thing when the band finally comes together on Sunday night.

But for now - on Sunday afternoon - they're in the sections. Doing their own thing. Making noise instead of music.

I wish it didn't remind me so much of Sunday mornings.

A failure to communicate

My friend Larry Carter told me about a recent conversation he had with one of his students. Larry is the President of Great Lakes Christian College and works hard to be accessible to their student body. So, as is often the case, he joined a table of undergrads for lunch a couple weeks back.

Larry and I have several things in common. We both love history. We matriculated from the same graduate school. We both grew up in the Christian Church. And we both have a friend in Tom Hensley. Tom and Larry have been friends ever since they were young preachers in DeKalb County, Indiana. While Tom and Larry were forging their friendship at Huntington College (now Huntington University) Tom was teaching a very young Frank Weller as the preacher of my boyhood church. Tom remains close to my aunt and uncle, so I've kept in touch with him over the years.

Tom is also a great golfer. In fact, Tom is a club chaplain at Bay Hill Golf Club in Orlando, Florida.

Arnold Palmer's course.

A few weeks back Tom was able to play a round with Arnie. It was the second time he was able to tee it up with the great one. Matter of fact, Tom counts as one of his greatest moments when Arnie walked past him and said, "Great shot, Tom!" Who wouldn't?

Larry was sharing all of this with his table of students last week. They could see that he was excited for his friend, and excited to tell them of his once-removed brush with fame. But when Larry told them, "My friend, Tom, got to play a round of golf with Arnold Palmer last week," they seemed unimpressed. Lost even.

Then one student, a senior named Paige, brightened an blurted out, "Arnold Palmer . . . Oh you mean the lemonade guy!"

I don't know who felt older: Larry as he told me the story, or me as I heard it.

In either case, since we're both preachers, we learned that we can't take for granted that our listeners have the context in which to understand what we're saying. Clearly not all of them do. And that is the challenge. If I illustrate a sermon with a story from Watergate, more than half of the folks in the room will have no idea what I am talking about.

Even something more recent, say, a blue dress worn by a Presidential intern, is likely to garner several blank stares (my oldest child was a first-grader when President Clinton left office.)

It is incredibly challenging to communicate to an audience that can span as many as seven decades in age. And yet, if we're going to impart biblical knowledge and wisdom to all, my fellow preachers and I need to make sure we are relevant to every generation.

Tom Crean's Postgame Comments

I love what Tom Crean had to say after IU's loss to Kentucky in their sweet sixteen game. Fast-forward to 11:55 to hear his comments about his players becoming the spiritual leaders of their families.

SLCC / Solomon Foundation Partnership

On Sunday, November 6th, I made a historic announcement to the South Lansing Christian Church family. I announced a proposed ministry partnership between SLCC and The Solomon Foundation, a Church Extension Fund that assists Christian Churches and Churches of Christ with building, remodeling and refinancing existing church mortgages.

This partnership, if approved be the SLCC membership, will save our church $8500 per month on our monthly building costs. This savings will come as the result of gifting our building to The Solomon Foundation, and then leasing it back from them. (The Solomon Foundation will pay off our existing mortgage with Citizen's Bank.)

This out-of-the-box proposal also benefits The Solomon Foundation. With the gift of our equity they will be able to make loans to churches all across the United States that are building buildings or refinancing existing mortgages.

This proposal represents a major shift in how we have operated. Consequently, I am committed to communicating as much as possible about how this would all work. To that end, I wanted to share with you some online links where you can go for more information.

If you would like information about The Solomon Foundation CLICK HERE

If you would like to read a FAQ sheet about the proposed partnership, CLICK HERE

If you would like to listen to an audio recording of yesterday's announcement, CLICK HERE 

As we move forward, here are some important dates:

November 13 - Doug Crozier, the CEO of The Solomon Foundation will share the stage with me in a town hall style gathering to answer questions about this proposed partnership.

November 20 - Thanksgiving Dinner. Our elders and staff will be available that Sunday to answer any questions you might have.

November 27 - Russell Johnson will be here representing the National Missionary Convention. Russell also works with The Solomon Foundation and can answer questions about the proposed missionary partnership.

December 4 - Congregational meeting to vote on the proposed ministry partnership with The Solomon Foundation. A 2/3 majority of the members present at that meeting is required for the proposal to be approved.

There is much work to be done between now and December 4th. We need to negotiate the lease. Citizen's Bank and The Solomon Foundation need to agree on a pay-off price to satisfy our church's mortgage. We need to have a favorable appraisal on our property and building.
 

You also need to know that the church will need to approve this proposal. This partnership will not take place without the congregation's approval.

Please be praying about these final steps. And please be praying, also, that God will reveal his will through this process.

Finally, if you have any questions, you can email them to questions@seekstudyserve.org

God has been good and shown his faithfulness through this entire process. Even if He were to close this door, we know that He has a plan for South. So, either way, we praise God for who He is and what He is doing among us!

Spiritual hoarding

Mrs. Frankly and I confess to a bad habit. We sometimes watch television programs that highlight the maladies of others. Why? We joke to one another that it makes us feel more normal about our own pathologies.

Several years ago that program was The Jerry Springer show. Our extended family was going through a particularly difficult season and it was reassuring to know that ours was practically boring by comparison. We stopped watching when I realized that Springer was filmed in Chicago and  many of those profiled on the show were my fellow Hoosiers. That and when I saw a row of Bible College students in the studio audience wearing matching college logo sweatshirts. (I know you're wondering, so here's a hint: What can red do for you?)

More recently we've taken to watching Hoarders. The folks on Hoarders aren't the out-of-control "spitcom" crowd that pulls each others' hair and accuses one another of dubious paternity. Actually, they seem like the people next door - completely unremarkable men and women that have a hidden problem. They could be your son's teacher, the retired guy that sits next to you at church or the lady handing you your sack of burgers at the drive-through.

(The only hoarder I ever actually came across, in fact, was a family physician who drove a Hummer. Every cubic inch of his H3, with the exception of the small space in which he sat to drive, was filled with boxes, newspapers and files. Every cubic inch. And he was a skinny dude.)

Now, Tracy and I have our own issues with "piles." We aren't as quick to toss stuff as some. Horizontal spaces attract items at the Weller home; the height of the pile seems to be directly proportional to the the surface size. Nevertheless, we've decided - and correctly so, I think - that we are not hoarders. Messy maybe, but not hoarders.

We have no compulsion that keeps us from throwing things away. I often do so in the extreme. We are willing to give items away when the situation warrants. And though my kids will tell you that I have a "flashlight fetish" they can confirm that I give away just as many as I have kept. We even had a huge garage sale this year - something a hoarder could never countenance.


We discussed all this a few nights ago as we watched an episode about a woman who was struggling to clear out a space so her wheelchair bound son could come live with her when he was discharged from the hospital. She was wrestling with a foundational truth - the same truth that enables most to escape the hoarder's snare: people are more important that possessions.

If you watch Hoarders, though, time and again you find sufferers of the disease battling to choose their children over their trash. Viewers have seen, quite literally, grown men and women choosing to hang onto bags of refuse and filth even though it means loosing the people they love.

As we watched the program unfold the other night I contemplated this sad reality. I stepped away from the television to go to the restroom and this thought traveled with me: "Who chooses filth over family?"

As I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror the answer was painfully swift - as the words of the Holy Spirit often are.

"You do, Frank. Every time you choose sin over me."

The unwillingness to discard sin is nothing short of spiritual hoarding. It is my failure to recognize that God demands holiness. And every time I choose to cling to my sin . . . or hide my sin . . . or nurture my sin . . . I reject God.

King David wrote, "Who may ascend the hill of the Lord? Who may stand in his holy place? He who has clean hands and a pure heart . . ." 

I guess its time for a little house cleaning.

Not leaving people

Paul, a gentleman that attends our church, is a highly functioning developmentally disabled older adult. He's a great guy. He lives on his own, washes dishes at one of the MSU cafeterias and can't clap in rhythm to save his life.

He sought me out immediately after yesterday's announcement at South Lansing Christian Church. Usually Paul buttonholes me before church. We chat about the Spartans, his job, where he's going on vacation, that sort of thing. For him to find me after church is unusual, and I could tell by the seriousness of his tone and his expression that the announcement was difficult for him.

"I'm really going to miss you guys, Frank," he said.

"What do you mean, Paul?"

"Since we're not going to have church anymore."

Heart breaking I said, "Paul, we're still gonna have church! I don't know if it will be here or somewhere else, but wherever it is, you're going to be with us. If I have to, I'll come and pick you up, but you're going to have your seat on the front row!"

He smiled and said, "That's good," and went on his way.

Wonder how many other people are wondering today if they're going to be left behind.

Leaving the building

Mike Blakely, Elder at South Lansing Christian Church, announced this morning that the church will be leaving the building. With a mortgage payment of $15,500 a month and offerings falling about $2,000 short of our $11,000 weekly need, staying is no longer tenable. Unless something changes quite soon, we will be making plans to meet somewhere else.

Here is the video of Mike's announcement and my introductory and closing comments.


7.17.11 Financial Announcement from South Lansing Christian Church on Vimeo.

Imagine what God can do . . .

Imagine Video #1 from South Lansing Christian Church on Vimeo.

You might be a dad . . .

If you've ever given thought to how you can capture, process and distribute drool as an industrial lubricant, you might be a dad.

If your wife has ever put a Dora the Explorer plate with a half-eaten lump of Mac-N-Cheese in front of you and said, "Here, finish this," you might be a dad.

If you've ever thought, "I wonder where that umpire lives," you might be a dad.

If your wife has ever signed you up to coach a sport that you've never even played, you might be a dad.

If you've ever had the race or the game interrupted because you're on bodily fluid - or bodily solid patrol, for that matter - you might be a dad.

If you've ever thought your first name was spelled A-T-M, you might be a dad.

If you've ever considered calling your broker to check on the stock price for Pampers, you might be a dad.

If you've experienced a mild case of whiplash from teaching a kid to drive manual transmission, you might be a dad.

If you've ever felt overwhelmed, out of your league, hyper-protective and fallen in love at the first sight of a pink, wrinkly, squirming newborn, you might be a dad.

30 things that thrill me - Day 16

The Butler Bulldogs.

Rooting for my Indiana boys tonight and their great coach, Brad Stevens. Good luck Dawgs!

30 things that thrill me - Day 15

Taking a drink of water from a fire hydrant.

I returned from Drive Conference this morning, collapsing into bed at about 4 AM. The three days was inspiring, amazing and challenging.

Andy Stanley is the founder and lead pastor of North Point Community Church in Alpharetta, Georgia. In the last decade and a half, North Point has developed into a multi-campus church that is devoted to moving people into a growing relationship with Jesus Christ. Their vision: to become a church for people that don't like church.

They've had some success at it, too, reaching thousands of unchurched and de-churched people that, for one reason or other, have avoided church and, by and large, Jesus for their whole lives.

The thing about this sort of conference is this: what I learned isn't so much mind altering as it is affirming what I already believe. It challenges me to return to my basic assumptions about ministry and church and implement them in fresh ways. For example . . .

The church is the only institution that exists, primarily, for the benefit of those who do not yet belong. Over and over we heard Drive presenters tell us that their goal is to remove whatever obstacles that unchurched people have between them and the church. They're not afraid of offending people with the gospel - the gospel was offensive in Jesus' day, and remains so today - they just don't want to offend them in the parking lot, in the foyer, or when they drop their children off in the nursery. To that end, they work very, very hard to make sure their guests are treated well.

The folks at South Lansing Church of Christ do a good job in this regard - at least from my perspective. But I don't know about the perspective of someone that has never been to church. How can I assess that? It is a question I need to come up with an answer to.

We also heard about the importance of the Sunday worship service in communicating one clear, unified, concise message. This is done through the singing, through the sermon and through the elements that accompany those. Our Wally Lowman does an amazing job with our singing. (I knew at least 2/3 of the tunes we sang at Drive because Wally is right there on the leading edge.) I need to make sure that I am doing my part to present the message in compelling and clear ways.

I attended breakout sessions that detail how North Point does their fund raising, how they provide opportunities for community service, how their students ministries work and a handful of other elements within their church.

Frankly, my head is spinning a bit.

It is like trying to take a drink from a fire hydrant on a hot summer day. You don't know how much water you're able to rally ingest. Probably not that much. But you do get awfully wet. And the very act of trying to take a drink becomes more refreshing that, perhaps, you thought possible.

30 things that thrill me - Day 14

Babies with cool hats.

My friend, Jackie Palmer, recently began a new business, Baby Toppers. She makes one-of-a-kind hats for infants. They are, in a word, amazing. Her marketing plan is made easier, I suppose, since Jackie is also a gifted photographer. She is an artist, frankly, that happens to work in multiple mediums: yarn and film.

Makes me wish I was a grandpa. (Nothing even remotely suggestive here, Weller children. I'll wait patiently.)

30 things that thrill me - Day 13

Springtime in Kentucky.

I am on the road today headed to Northpoint Community Church in Alpharetta, Georgia with Wally and Rob. We're headed to the Drive Conference at Andy Stanley's church. Conferences like me inspire me and stoke my ministry fires.

We're traveling by car and stopped by Skyline Chili in Dry Ridge, Kentucky. Rob ate the four-way and Wally ate the five-way. I had three chili dogs.

As we were eating and watching the finish of the Kentucky / NC game, I looked out the window and noticed a pasture full of polled Hereford cattle. My grandpa raised a small herd of Herefords when I was growing up. Their roan colored bodies and white faces are cute as, well, a cow I guess. As I was plowing into my final chili dog I saw a calf skipping across the hillside toward its mother. As I finished my dinner, the calf began his.

There is something about a calf being let out of the barn in springtime that makes me want to skip along with him. My heart is light tonight.

30 things that thrill me - Day 12

Little kids that memorize movie lines.

Regularly readers of Frankly Speaking (I think there are four or five) will recall that I am a substitute school bus driver. After a year of subbing at Holt Schools, I just recently began having some really good conversations with my co-workers. They've begun asking questions about theology and sharing things they would like me to pray about. The Kingdom of God right there in the break room. I think that is where Jesus would be.

Not that it is without frustration. Yesterday I was taking a bus load of elementary students home and it wasn't going well. I am handed a route sheet with the names and addresses of students as well as directions for the route. The problem is, I don't know which students are on, and which students are not.

It is a Friday afternoon, so the students are amped up. I arrive at my first stop and activate my warning lights only to hear, "They aren't on." I proceed. Next stop - same thing. Third stop, ditto. I can see that it is going to take a long time to get home, so I ask if there is a student helper that would like to assist me. Someone volunteers, but it turns out that she doesn't know Jefferson from Washington - the Presidents or the streets. Frustration builds. I am tense.

Then Matt, a kid with autism stands up. I see him in the mirror and am about to tell him to be seated when he looks at me and, with his best Emperor Palpatine voice says, "I feel your anger."

The kid just cracks me up.

I look at him and gravely intone, "I am a Jedi," and then waving my hand from left to right, "But you don't believe me." He replies, "Commander, you may fire when ready."

Now I am a little worried. Maybe he is a Jedi. For the rest of the trip Matt is quoting star wars lines and even cackling like the Emperor in Revenge of the Sith.

What a great afternoon.

30 things that thrill me - Day 11

Looking forward.

This morning revealed a one-eighth layer of ice on the windshield of my car, requiring about five minutes of scraping before I could head out to work. Wait a minute! I thought Spring began on Monday, What gives with the snow and ice?

If there is anything I have learned in my three years, seven months and twenty-three days since moving to Michigan it is that winter is a season to be survived. There are those hale and hearty souls that embrace the cold. They can't wait to get the parkas out of the closet and throw the boots on the cold air return. For them, a garage full of snowmobiles, a hole in the ice, and a ski rack on the roof of the car are pulse accelerants.

Not me.  I've had to learn the art of looking forward to survive winter.

Here is how it works.

First, one must avoid looking forward too soon. November 1st is the earliest one can begin the anticipatory glance. About the time the last maple leaf hits the ground thoughts naturally turn to hunting season. Any early frost or chilly pre-winter morning is mitigated by thoughts of killing "the big buck." These ruminations turn bitter, though, about lunch time on November 16th when you realize you're going to have to freeze your butt off for another week before you get a shot at a doe, let alone something with antlers.

But by that time you've already started looking ahead to Thanksgiving. Football. Turkey. Football. Mashed potatoes. Football. Sweet potato pie. Football. Dessert. And, football. By the time the Lions are nearing the conclusion of their annual Thanksgiving Day Thumping, the strategists among your family are already looking forward to Christmas. (Kicked off, naturally, by the annual morning after shopping binge on black Friday.) Thoughts of sugar plums and gaily colored packages even foster a hope for snow, a white Christmas filled with family, tradition and consumerism.

For many, the post-Christmas period is the beginning of the long winter's depressive marathon. Not for me. I'm already looking forward to the playoffs. The Colts are generally in the hunt for an AFC title and a trip to the Superbowl. If they falter, as they did last year, however, I can still look forward to hating the Steelers and their fans, the combine IQ of which scarcely reaches into four digits.

If God smiles on Peyton and the boys, this anticipation will carry me all the way into the second week of February, by which time I am able to look forward to March Madness - sixty-eight teams all straining to cut down the nets and have their upraised fists featured in the final frame of "One Shining Moment." Sparty is out this year, but I am still rooting for the Butler Bulldogs.

By the time Duke (I hate them too) wins another national championship in Houston on April 4th, I should be getting the blades on the mower sharpened and raking the detritus from the lawn in anticipation of Turf Wars 2011 - The Battler of the Dog Bombs. And, with the break in the weather, I will once again be able to live in the moment and stop looking so far ahead in order to maintain my sanity.

Looking forward. Try it some time.

NOTE - No, I don't hate anybody. I was using hyperbole. Pastors aren't allowed to hate - except the Devil. And rock music. And dancing. And alcohol. And, possibly Democrats. (Again, hyperbole.)

30 things that thrill me - Day 10

Wonder bread.

If your house is like ours, you're probably trying to be more careful about what you eat. A few months ago our doctor gave us a simple rule: don't eat anything that is white. Now, I don't think she was talking about cauliflower and milk so much. Rather, she was talking about bread and pasta and the like. We have tried to follow that rule by eating more whole grain pasta, whole wheat bread and even whole grain tortillas.

I've been stuck with whole wheat bread since childhood. Grandma Weller always had Roman Meal on hand at her house. I hated it. It is hard to say which tasted worse - Grandma's Roman Meal or the Lumberjack bread that my dad favored. I didn't know you could make bread with sawdust; I didn't know bread was supposed to crunch when you ate it.

Nowadays I don't mind the crunchy bread as much. It's tasty enough and, if it is better for me, then great.

Today, though, when I went to the bread outlet to pick up a couple of loaves I was disappointed (okay, not really) to find that they were out of the good-for-you stuff. They had dozens of loaves of Wonder Bread, though. White wrappers. Multi-colored dots. Memory filled.

I was tempted to untwist the tie right there and take a big whiff. Thinking that the clerk might wonder what a forty-three-year-old dude was doing with his head stuck in a plastic wrapper, though, I waited until I got home and had supper. Tracy made pot roast and veggies and it was great. I pulled out a couple of slices and dipped them in the au jus. Oh. My. Goodness. A super-tasty carb-filled trip down memory lane.

It is a small thing, and I expect that I'll be back chewing oats again pretty soon. (Much sooner when the boys find out there is Wonder in the pantry.) I'm pretty certain that a little bit of bleached flour isn't gonna kill me. I'm not going to make a habit of it.

Now, if I can just find some butter and colby cheese . . .

30 things that thrill me - Day 9

Worms on the sidewalk.

The warmer weather and the rain flushed the worms from their tunnels this morning - yet another portent of Spring. Our Children's Minister, Betty Allen, is deathly afraid of worms. Occasionally the twenty foot stretch between the back door of our office wing and the parking lot is littered with the drowning creatures. When that happens, Betty tip-toes to her car like the parking lot is a minefield.

Of course, she does not have to brave the horror this morning. She is enjoying the sunny, warm weather of Bern, North Carolina with her husband, Dana - a gift in recognition of her tenth anniversary as a staff person at South Lansing Christian Church.

As for me, I'm content to know that today is the first day of Spring and, even if its not quite warm enough for my taste, the worms know that winter is behind us.

30 things that thrill me - Day 8

The first robin of Spring.

I saw my first robin as I was leaving South Lansing Christian Church today. As much as any other sign that warm weather is approaching, the "first robin" has been the traditional portent of spring in our family for as long as I can remember. There is something about seeing that bright orange breast and bright eye that makes me want to put the winter coat in the storage and break out the shorts.

We're a few weeks away from that, of course. But Spring is definitely on her way!