It was one of those interesting moments well-known to parents of young children. We were sitting at Chili’s tonight, waiting for our food to be brought out. We were there in celebration of my bride’s 38th birthday. She received a gift certificate, so we decided to go and enjoy a dinner with the whole family. So as were waiting, my son spotted a sign in the distance that displayed in large letters, “Happy Hour!”. This brought great excitement to him, but not for the same reason that those words bring delight to those who indulge in that kind of drink. His frame of reference comes from Sonic’s happy hour. And all of us at the table knew what he meant. But I’m not sure if the people at the table adjacent to us quite understood why an eight-year-old would get so excited about Happy Hour. I’m thankful that Grace was quick to point out the difference between the two types of happy hours.

The amusing mix-up of terms took my mind to eternity future, when God’s children would revel in arguably the happiest hour of all. This world has nothing on God’s Happy Hour. You think dollar drinks do the trick? Just wait until you drink deeply from the well of salvation; when you realize that eternal life is “on the house”; that our great salvation has been paid for in blood not our own.

Yes, saints, there is a day coming that will cause us to fall at the feet of the One who is worthy. The One whose final gasps of air were not consumed for the purpose of spewing out hatred at His murderers. Nor were they utilized as a request for help. In fact, those last painful moments contained the sweetest words for a sinner’s ear. They were, “Father, forgive them…”.

So the Happy Hour we hope for is coming. It may even happen before you finish reading this post. As a brother once said, it may be that you “put your right foot onto Main Street, and your left foot into glory”. In the twinkling of an eye, brothers and sisters, God’s happy hour is coming.

One bright hour, He will come for me

One bright hour, He’ll set the captive free

And one bright hour, He will wipe the tears away

From eyes that now can see

One bright hour

Bebo Norman

As we come nearer to the day that our next-door-neighbor will move to the Great Northwest, I make some mental cogitations about ways in which I will miss his presence. I enjoy his humor, and his understanding of technology, and generally just spending some time with him.

For the sake of specificity, I will write about a quirky thing that he is performing while I type. We are in the middle of a rare July thunderstorm – wind blowing, lightning flashing, rain falling, lawn-mowing. “Lawn-mowing?” you ask? You read it correctly. Kane is currently mowing his lawn while 2/3 of the world’s electric current rests about a mile above our general vicinity…just perched up there and ready to strike any foolish enough to challenge its authority.

This kind of thing will be missed. The unconventional approach to life that makes us giggle.

When Kane saw me gawking at this spectacle, he stopped the mower, and motioned with his hands as if to say, “What’s the problem?” My response was, “Don’t you want to make it to Portland? You’re gonna die right there!”.

Kane’s response was very Kane-esque. He said, “It’s [the lightning] afraid of me!”. Again, his humor will be missed.

About six months ago, my son Benjamin began wearing braces. He recently had them removed, and is now wearing a retainer only at night. He is faithful about cleaning it in the evening just before bed, and it seems like every night (I’m exaggerating) he says, “This thing smells horrible! You wanna smell it?” I know he has asked me this question at least three times in the past month. Every time he has made this unique offer, I have declined. Call me crazy. Tonight, after he repeated his favorite question, and after I repeated my consistent answer in the negative, I decided I would punctuate my answer with a new twist. I said, “No.” (Pause for effect, and for time to tabulate how many times he has asked the question) Then I said, “I am pretty sure my answer will always be ‘no’.” I wonder if that will sink in…

It has been exactly a week since I dressed like a cow twice in one day for the purpose of getting a free meal. The answer to your question is “yes”. I have no shame. Last year, I refused to bend and thus refused to dress like a cow while my family did. This year was different. I agreed to go through with it, as a favor to my wife. But having now walked away from what I thought might be a disaster for my pride, I can report that I have a change of heart. I actually enjoyed the experience. Who knows, maybe next year I’ll even sing a song like my wife and children did this year. Baby steps.

I marvel at the energy level of my bride of almost 19 years. She could run circles around me in a normal day, and she usually does. It’s a blessing to be married to such an energetic person. She challenges me to do more.

I also stand amazed at her ability to never really meet a stranger. If you were to listen in on most conversations with new acquaintances, you would bet that she has known the person for years. This is an ability I do not really have.

I could go on and on about things that my wife can do so well that place me out of my comfort zone, but one area that has come to my attention lately definitely pushes the envelope for me. It is a road I don’t often travel. One that I shy away from at every turn, but one that seems to attract her like one of those huge magnets in a junk yard attracts cars.

The thing I’m talking about is how she seems to be more than OK with the spotlight. The proverbial spotlight, that is. It’s not that she craves this spotlight. She doesn’t dream about how to get attention, nor does she find it too difficult in times when others have the spotlight and she doesn’t. It’s just that when the opportunity presents itself, she stands at attention. And the opportunity has presented itself…yet again.

Chic-Fil-A is holding its annual “Dress Like a Cow And Get Free Food Day”. Last year, I was fine with my whole family (excluding me) dressing like a cow to get free food. I really have a taste for Chic-Fil-A, so I went along and hid sort of in the background while my family pushed on ahead and got free food. I insisted that I would gladly buy my own food. I think some others in the family had the same wish, but they had no money, and Momma made it clear that it wasn’t an option for them.

This year, to the surprise of my bride, I have agreed to dress like a cow. I said it’s a road that I don’t often travel. I have been known to acquiescently stick a toe into the spotlight. So here goes.

I’ll be wearing an angel costume retro-fitted to look like a cow (frown, grimace…that wasn’t what I had in mind, but oh well). “Sounds like more than sticking a toe into the spotlight,” you say? Well, I figure you only live once, and though the light from the spotlight can be bright at times, and if the spotlight hasn’t been converted over to fluorescent from incandescent, it can also be very warm (I’m told), but so what. I’ll travel this road since my bride seems to enjoy when we are on the road together. I can pretend to like it, I guess, or maybe I really will like it.

I’ll let you know after Friday.

Just had to upload this one!

We have this card game that we have been “playing” lately. The word is in quotes because CC tells me that we are not playing it correctly.

The cards are formatted in this way:

• the phrase “Would You Rather” begins each question
• a choice between two scenarios is presented
• the choice (due to the fact that both scenarios are usually equally undesirable) creates a dilemma.

I mentioned that we are not playing it correctly. We actually have not really been playing the game at all. We seem to be intrigued, as a family, with just reading the choices, and talking about which choices we would make.

The card that brought on a stiff belly-laugh for me is as follows:

WOULD YOU RATHER…

Have to sing everything you say

OR

Shout everything you say?

The thought of both choices brings a comical situation to mind. Can you imagine doing either of these?

First, singing everything you say would definitely cause most folks to question your stability (if they don’t already). You would be the next Julie Andrews, except for the fact that you would never stop singing. The element of surprise that comes from bursting forth into song in a crowd at a mall or a market place would be lost, because you would always be singing. Everywhere and at every time! I dare you to try it for a day.

Second, shouting everything would have its own problems. I am a teacher, and while I sometimes and tempted to shout in the line of duty, I think the shock effect of screaming out at students would wither on the vine sometime during the first week of school (provided I retained my job that long). And can you envision a simple visit to H.E.B.? “HOW MUCH ARE THE BANANAS!” would probably get you trailed by security, and “WHERE”S THE BATHROOM?” would undoubtedly turn some heads.

Anyway, the point is that this game is a fun one even if we are not playing it correctly. It surely gets everyone engaged in conversation.

I could neither resist nor prevent myself from taking this picture with a camera at a local gas station that supplies fuel.

Just a few evenings ago, my wife once again surprised me with just a small bit of comedy. Her whole family was at our house for Christmas festivities, and we were all getting into our vehicles to go out to eat.

Now when we are with her family, all of us number to 23 persons, so it can be quite an adventure no matter what we do. Getting into our respective vehicles is at the top of the list of excitement. Inevitably, someone wants to ride in the car belonging to another family, so we take great care in counting heads to make sure that everyone is with us. We have all seen Home Alone.

We were in the process of getting into our vehicles. Everyone was accounted for except CC. She was still in the house, when CC’s sister came to me and said that I could leave since she had room for CC in another vehicle. So I did.

Just as I was leaving, CC was coming out of our home, and caught sight of the Suburban pulling away. Thinking she was being left behind, and not wanting to be left behind, she did what any grown woman would do. She ran as fast as she could in hopes that she could get my attention.

What focus! She didn’t even see the van waiting for her in our driveway. But the occupants of the van saw her, and enjoyed every stride she took. Just another family memory that we can all recall and laugh about!

Today during a break time at church, my son Benjamin brought me two bags of pretzels. He said that a lady gave them to him and told him to give them to the siblings. His next statement was that he did not know who they were. I said, “They’re your sisters.” He said, “Oh,” as he smirked and took the bags to his siblings.