tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-243258212024-03-13T15:48:19.466-05:00Travels and Thoughtsjoshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.comBlogger77125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-91356416811307383272011-07-18T20:32:00.001-05:002011-07-18T20:32:05.597-05:00Quick Thought on Growing UpWhen did everything change? I used to SPRINT to answer the phone when someone called, even if it wasn't for me. I used to wait by the window, watching for the mail man to deliver the mail so I could run out and get it. It was usually never for me. <div> <br></div><div>Now, I rarely answer my phone and loathe checking the mail, even the once or twice a week that I actually remember to do so. </div><div><br></div><div>When did phone calls stop making me feel special, and mail stop giving me hope? I think it was when mail began demanding my money, and calls began demanding my time. </div> joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-32893650402687256972010-08-19T14:07:00.003-05:002010-08-19T14:38:50.244-05:00Worship styleWow, that topic could spur a blog or two. <div><br /></div><div>I thought this would be a microblog, but ended up being a little longer than I planned. These are just a few quick thoughts I had after seeing a picture of a friend leading worship, and on the screen behind them were the lyrics to a hymn. So, I thought, "Oh, they're more spiritual because they're doing a hymn. Obviously the deeper theology in the hymns means their worship is better." </div><div><br /></div><div>Then I stopped to think. What would I say if the words were the newest contemporary hit? "Oh, they're on the cutting edge of playing all the new songs that God wants to hear." </div><div><br /></div><div>So I thought through my experience of leading worship, and all the times either I had to define my style, or someone tried to define my style for me. I've been leading worship in some capacity (either as leader or band member) for at LEAST once a week for the last 15 years or so. Sometimes several times a day. That's alot. When I'm forced to do hymns, I don't want to do them, and when I'm forced to be "cool" and "cutting edge," I prefer the standards.</div><div><br /></div><div>My problem does not lie with either style. God doesn't care about that stuff. </div><div><br /></div><div>What God <i>does</i> care about is WHY we do what we do. If a contemporary song fits the emotional state of the culture of a church, then why not just throw your vulnerable hearts onto the altar and sing with all your might? If a hymn is going to strengthen the theology of a group by reminding us how big our God is, and that our words aren't always sufficient, and some other great writers have already expressed what our vernacular could never put on paper, then sing a hymn! </div><div><br /></div><div>Just don't do hymns to please the hymn lovers. Don't do hymns to remind them of their childhood. Don't do hymns because it's the trendy super-spiritual thing to do. Don't do contemporary because that's what keeps people coming to church. Don't do contemporary because it's what the next church is doing. Don't do contemporary because it's what the cool kids like. Do songs that honor, glorify, and lift up the powerful name of Jesus. Sing them together. Sing them well. Don't distract from what the Spirit is doing by making more of the song than of the One to whom it is sung. </div><div><br /></div><div>Musicians ... there IS a difference between your Saturday night gig and worship Sunday morning. Let your playing, your stage presence, and your attitude reflect that. </div>joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-76308697367271038622010-07-03T11:52:00.004-05:002010-07-21T11:49:04.502-05:00Adventures in HomeownershipI haven't blogged in a while, but I feel compelled to share the last few weeks' activities. It's exhausting, so take a deep breath and stretch a little before we continue .... Ok. <div><br /></div><div>Two weeks ago, I had VBS all week at the church. Enough said about that. It was exactly as tiring as it sounds. That was all followed by the typical Saturday night gig and Sunday morning churchin'. </div><div><br /></div><div>Monday and Tuesday of last week were full day rehearsals with the John Sherrill Band. You see, we are recording a live CD next week and need to learn the songs. So, Monday was in the Woodlands, and Tuesday I was up early and drove to Huntsville. Wednesday our plans fell through and I ended up staying home with Bella instead of rehearsing in Huntsville. That part of the story comes into play later. Tuesday and Wednesday evenings I had a rehearsal and gig, respectively, in Conroe at the Ark Church. </div><div><br /></div><div>Thursday morning, the next day, the alarm went off at 3:45am and I was up and on my way to the airport to fly to Omaha, Nebraska, where I would rent a car and drive to Lincoln. I was playing piano for a theater performance by some high schoolers from Houston. They kept advancing to state and national levels, so I got to join them as they performed for 3000 or more people. After the show on Friday, I headed back to the airport in Omaha to catch the 4:45 flight to Denver, then one to Houston. As they were about to board, they announced something about a little plastic exit sign cover that was missing, which they can't fly without. Apparently this is a rare piece of equipment that no other plane anywhere near ours had to spare, so they cancelled our flight. </div><div><br /></div><div>I joined the stampede back to the ticket counter and waited patiently for 2 hours as everyone in front of me was rebooked on the 7:45pm flight -- everyone until me. They offered to rebook me on a direct flight on Saturday morning, arriving home at 8:30am. Any later and I would've had to fly to Austin, where I had a 4pm wedding to get to. After 45 minutes waiting for the ticket counter lady to finish making my arrangements, I was all set with a hotel voucher and caught the Double Tree shuttle. It was a nice hotel, I just wish I could've slept maybe twice as long. Up again at 4:30 to catch the shuttle back to the airport. </div><div><br /></div><div>After the short flight to Houston, I made it to my house in time to have breakfast with my wife and daughter, then change clothes and head to Austin for my 1:30pm call time. Everything was great, the wedding turned out nice, and I was back on the road a little after 5. Sunday morning came way too soon, and then the real fun began. </div><div><br /></div><div>After church we went to grab some lunch at Smashburger, which was awesome. I took the girls home and was about to head to the Heights to grab my music gear from Seth's house (he had taken it home since I missed the last day of rehearsals in Huntsville 4 days earlier). I noticed that there was a little bit of water underneath our water heater. Awesome. Couldn't have happened at a better time. That was sarcasm, although there maybe could've been some worse times. </div><div><br /></div><div>I left to get my gear, trying to solve the water heater problem, when I remembered we may still have home warranty. I checked the date of when we bought our house, and turns out we still had 3 days on our warranty! So, instead of having to buy and install a new water heater, I turned off the gas and water lines, and called them to set up an appointment. The rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind of getting bills paid and other things done before I left Sunday night for a camp with the Jimmy Needham band. </div><div><br /></div><div>Bethany dropped me off at Jimmy's house at 9pm Sunday night, an hour late because of all the mess I had to deal with Sunday afternoon. We got the new trailer loaded and headed off to Florida. I had just gotten to sleep around midnight when Chasen, our drummer who was driving, said something about a tire sparking and pulled into a gas station. I really just wanted to sleep through whatever this was, but the smell of burning rubber and metal got me up. One of the trailer tires was not in good shape. There was grease all over the tire, and we could see that the axle was not even lined up with the tire. What do you do at 12:30am in Beaumont, TX, when your trailer is busted? </div><div><br /></div><div>This is where God's provision came in pretty clearly. As we sat in the gas station parking lot, there were some guys washing the ground. After talking with them a little bit, they said there was a place about a block away that fixed trailers. So, our plan was going to be to rent a Uhaul in the morning, take our trailer to get fixed (and leave it all week if we needed to), and head to Florida on Monday, arriving a day late. </div><div><br /></div><div>I checked the iPhone map and it turned out we had stopped at an exit that included several hotels, a Uhaul, and this trailer service shop. So, we didn't have to do much more than U-turn under I-10 to find a hotel for the night. </div><div><br /></div><div>We went ahead and got a Uhaul trailer at 7am Monday, and loaded our stuff into it before taking our trailer to the service shop. Once we got our trailer there, they pulled it around and jacked it up. At that time the guy reached over and just pulled the tire straight off without loosening any lug nuts. He said it was very lucky we even made it there. Tell us about it. </div><div><br /></div><div>He said it'd take an hour to fix, so we hit Waffle House. After it was fixed, we obviously didn't need the Uhaul, so we retransferred all our gear and took the Uhaul back. They refunded the 1-way rate, and we ended up only paying the in-town rate, since we didn't go anywhere. We got our trailer hitched back up, and not ONE SECOND after we got it hooked on, it started POURING rain. It was so strange. So, we drove to Florida Monday, drenched in sweat and rain. We arrived at 10:45pm, and got set up, soundchecked at 12:15am, and were up ready to play at 9am Tuesday morning. </div><div><br /></div><div>So by now I'd found out that our water heater needed to be replaced, so I rejoiced because we were getting a new water heater. But what they don't mention is the amount of time it would take to get a new one. I called the warranty company and plumbers every day asking when it would all happen. FINALLY on Friday, after my third attempt, I finally convinced someone that I was not happy that my wife and toddler were at home all week with no hot water. The representative called the plumber, who said they could replace it on Tuesday the 6th, but she convinced them to do it sooner, which means TODAY -- between 9-5. I might have them look at a leaky faucet I noticed this morning, too. </div><div><br /></div><div>After playing for the Friday morning service at camp, we loaded up and headed to just outside Mobile, AL, where we set up and played a show at 8:30. It was a great show, 15,000 people showed up, and there were fireworks and an 80 year old skydiver. Afterwards, we tore down, and headed back to Houston. I finally made it home at 8:30 this morning, with nominal sleep. </div><div><br /></div><div>Today, I am sitting here watching new countertops be installed (after them losing our measurements, cracking our first slab, mis-quoting a price on our next slab, and having to wait for me to be in town to install), waiting for the plumber to call and come replace the water heater, oh, and our AT&T Uverse stopped working this morning, too. So AT&T will be here sometime between 9am-11:36pm. Not really, but I have no idea when anything is happening today. </div><div><br /></div><div>Tomorrow I leave again for one more week of camp with John Sherrill, then off to Wisconsin for a show on Saturday night with Jimmy Needham. Hoping the house stays together till then (and after then, too). </div>joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-5848938506342854702010-01-26T16:32:00.003-06:002010-01-26T17:11:48.845-06:00DreamerI'm sitting here listening to a piece I orchestrated and recorded yesterday. You'll be able to hear it soon over there to the right on my Reverb Nation player. It's not quite finished yet. It's nothing new. I remember writing it when I was maybe 14 or so. At that time, in Las Vegas, there was this local New Age composer named Giovanni, and he had a weekly show on PBS or something. They would play his music with really cheesy green screen videos. He'd be playing a clear piano with color swirls happening all around him -- like old Windows screen savers.<div><br /></div><div>At the time, I was really into New Age music. Well, that sounds funny. New Age is such a broad musical term. I was into instrumental music, mostly based around the piano. Personally, I think of them as modern compositions with a pop music bias-- in that they have sort of a pop structure with no vocals. There are "hooks" and repeating "choruses." I was mostly into Giovanni and John Tesh at the time, but eventually discovered Jim Brickman, and then stopped listening to that type of music alot. </div><div><br /></div><div>I discovered "sequencing" back then, too, and would stay up till really late at night "orchestrating" little tunes I would write. I learned alot about how music is put together. My old Korg O1W/fd doesn't work anymore, so I've lost all access I had to those pieces. I'd love to hear them now to see how I've grown (or haven't). </div><div><br /></div><div>Now, almost 15 years later, I find myself doing the same thing. This time, though, I'm hoping to make a career out of it. Last night was so surreal, as I took a piece I wrote, barely out of Jr. High, and fashioned it into a somewhat mature musical offering. </div><div><br /></div><div>I've been recently going back to all the instrumental stuff I wrote way back when I was younger, because there's something so pure about it all. Every tune was a revelation. I'd sit down and just start playing, and discover a new chord or progression or something, and it would inspire this piece to take shape. Then, I'd play my little pieces for myself. Over and over I'd play them, rarely sharing them with anyone, always dreaming I'd record them some day, or play them in my own show. I would stay up late recording them, usually giving the prettier melodies to the oboe, because that's a good instrument for pretty melodies. </div><div><br /></div><div>I miss the discovery of that time. I miss the output of that time. I write less now. I don't know why. I hate feeling like I'm creatively dry. I know I'm not. I'm actually a better musician now. I mean, technically, I could sit down today and probably improvise as well as I used to compose, which means I should be able to compose even better. It just takes more work and more thought now. I welcome that. There's something very satisfying in hearing melodies and chords that I've put together, even if no one else cares for it.</div><div><br /></div><div>My dream has always been to be a composer. I'm not sure why. It's not like I walk around with melodies swirling around in my head all the time. I think inspiration is real, and I love when I'm struck with it. I also think that the craft of composition is very important, and I actually love the technical side of it. I think Brahms once said that the key to a great piece of music (one that stands the test of time) is both inspiration and craft. It's one thing to be inspired and just vomit a bunch of music onto a page (or recording software), but that could end up just being an emotional blob that is cool for a little while but can't survive (i.e., most pop music). The other side of that is a well-crafted piece that is only well-crafted. There's tons of music that is long-forgotten because it follows all the rules but is not inspired. Lots of composers were hired by royalty to compose music weekly (or daily) for whatever reason, and you can't expect completely inspired music to come from that type of schedule. </div><div><br /></div><div>My conclusion is this: I'm scared. I want to write music that is not just "adding to the noise" as Switchfoot once sang about. I'm worried that the feeling of discovery was in my teen years, and there's no more inspiration to be found. I'm nervous that I don't have the commercial appeal to make a living at this. I'm scared that I won't want to be as vulnerable and open as an artist has to be. Well, at least I've got the insecurities every artist has to deal with. I think I'm on the right track. </div>joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-19862268697961369852009-12-10T03:28:00.002-06:002009-12-10T03:46:10.185-06:00so. late.i still am not sure why i'm still up. i'm beyond my ability to do anymore work. i've been spending my time lately doing arrangements for a new worship music resource site a friend is developing. tomorrow i should finish the last of the five songs i was supposed to have completed by last week. and, i'll be going tomorrow to pick up some files to start the next project, which is going to be alot of work in a little bit of time. <div><br /></div><div>this has been a strange few months. i'm more overwhelmed than usual. i'm trying to do too much, but for good reason. nobody pays me anything. i've got a 30 hour job that doesn't support my family, so i've gotta do free-lance stuff "on the side" to make up for it. the only problem is that my "on the side" jobs probably could add up to a full-time job themselves. some of them are simple gigs that make me an easy one or two hundred bucks. some have been much more involved, but have promised nice pay. they just haven't actually paid. half of the stuff i'm working on right now doesn't pay up front, but could actually make some good money on the back end. i'm hoping for that. </div><div><br /></div><div>i feel like it's a huge ball that i'm trying to get rolling, and there's lots of obstacles and it's really hard, and i'm distracted, and discouraged. but once that ball gets some momentum, i won't have to push so hard. i'm not sure where they come from, but i get brief glances of what my life could look like, and that keeps me working toward my goals. i've never had to work so hard towards something. most of the time i just let life happen and i roll with the punches. but i've set my sights a little higher this time, and realized that there's a bit of a journey to make it where i want to go. </div><div><br /></div><div>i'm learning how i work best, and what i really love, and even new things that i'm good at. this year has been enlightening like that. my main obstacles are time and money right now. i need to spend money to do the things i want to do to make money. i'm trying hard to find the balance, and i think it's good to have incentive to work hard when it means paying off the bills from those investments. time is hard to control, too. it's really frustrating to have a job that requires so much time spent on meaningless things, when i know i can work a quarter of the time for the same money. but, a salary is steady income. that's important right now. </div><div><br /></div><div>this blog wasn't really for you, reader. it's 3:45am and i'm just venting. i'll look back on this post in a few months and probably not remember writing it, but i'll remember feeling this way. or i'll read it tomorrow, regret being so open, and erase it. </div>joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-76032289498889082052009-12-03T13:56:00.002-06:002009-12-03T14:16:52.041-06:00Merry ChristmessI just read a great blog by Jason Boyett <a href="http://blog.jasonboyett.com/2009_12_03_archive.html">here</a>.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span><div><br /></div><div>He rants a bit about a large conservative Christian organization that is waging a "war" on the "secularization" of Christmas in retail. They have a place on their website where you can rate a store based on how much they remove Christ from Christmas. The short of it is this: places that don't say "Christmas" are bad, places that do are good. I love the points Boyett makes on this, and agree. </div><div><br /></div><div>Last year the thought hit me that we tend to spend ALOT of time trying to find the "true meaning" of Christmas. My conclusion was that the true meaning of Christmas has become talking about the true meaning of Christmas. </div><div><br /></div><div>What frustrates me about the rating system is how far from the "true meaning" of Christmas this truly is. If you really want to get holy, wouldn't buying any gifts at all lean towards the materialism that we should be avoiding? So then why would it matter if a store says "Happy Holidays" rather than "Merry Christmas?" Retail stores have NO POWER over the true spirit of Christmas. They control sales and marketing. To say that their actions are removing Christ from this holiday is to give them way more power than they have. Could you imagine witches and satanists complaining about churches' Fall Festivals? How dare we take Satan out of Halloween! I'm being sarcastic, but I think the point is there. Why would we expect a world (especially the part of the world focused on buying and selling) to involve religion with their business? </div><div><br /></div><div>If the Church is removing Christ from Christmas ... then we have a problem. That's what the church exists for. Retail exists to sell things. I think most large churches are shining examples that business and religion can't co-exist. So, stores, sell your things. Sell them well. Market to people and make them want to give gifts to each other. Church, keep Christ in Christmas. Keep telling everyone His story, and about His gifts to us, so that we will have reason to give gifts to each other. </div><div><br /></div><div> </div>joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-22027495386084702602009-10-01T13:53:00.004-05:002009-10-01T14:21:20.883-05:00Content ... how about some?<div style="text-align: left;">Wow, I left you with a FaceBook survey for my last blog 6 months ago? I'm so sorry. The last 6 months have flown by, of course, but have been pretty good. I'm still working at the church, and Bethany is still part time at her psychiatric hospital (giving, not receiving care). The summer schedule of youth camps was light, but the few we did were really great. The 220 camps were spectacular. God wrestled with our "unbelief" and strengthened our faith in what he can do, and IS STILL DOING here on this earth today.</div><div><br /></div><div>There were alot of great stories, but one that sticks out in my mind was from Monday evening of camp, in Longview, TX. We were given word of a woman--a friend of one of our leaders--who was diagnosed with cancer and had found out that the cancer had spread to her muscles. I don't know alot about cancer, but I'm sure that's not a good thing. She was going Tuesday morning for a follow-up visit, so we prayed that she would be healed. The report Tuesday evening was that the same doctor that found cancer in her muscles COULD NOT FIND CANCER. Does your God still do miracles? <div><br /></div><div>Besides church and home life, I'm venturing out a little. I'm preparing my songlist so I can get out and start playing some music around Cypress. I'm hoping that will be a good outlet for me, and some extra cash. I'm also getting into composing film/TV music. I did a project for a church this summer that was tons of fun and sort of rekindled a passion I once had to compose for visual media. I'm attending a conference in a few months that will give me some guidelines for getting into this business, hopefully giving me a good step towards some fun projects. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm going to let my little girl help me update the last few months, so here's some pictures:</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SsT8sa7XEwI/AAAAAAAAAfI/bxJuopbS_oY/s1600-h/IMG_0287.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SsT8sa7XEwI/AAAAAAAAAfI/bxJuopbS_oY/s320/IMG_0287.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387708894314697474" /></a>We bought our first house! I think it was the 7th or 8th house we looked at with the realtor. It met all our needs, was in great condition, and was in our price range. We LOVE it and excitedly continue to make it more and more look like "ours." </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SsUAKm4uAvI/AAAAAAAAAfQ/bLy7d4SW5Kg/s320/DSC_0208.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387712711455802098" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></span></div><div>And finally, two weeks ago, my piano arrived, so it's now a "home." </div><div><br /></div><div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SsT8r-Z5ikI/AAAAAAAAAfA/1InkS2UVwuM/s1600-h/DSC_0515.JPG"></a></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SsT8r-Z5ikI/AAAAAAAAAfA/1InkS2UVwuM/s1600-h/DSC_0515.JPG" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="text-align: left;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SsT8r-Z5ikI/AAAAAAAAAfA/1InkS2UVwuM/s320/DSC_0515.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387708886658157122" /></a>Bella enjoyed her first trip to a beach this summer, as we went to hang out and lead worship for the youth ministry at our church.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SsT8rrWotwI/AAAAAAAAAe4/2mXfNbGGGxc/s1600-h/DSC_0367.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SsT8rrWotwI/AAAAAAAAAe4/2mXfNbGGGxc/s320/DSC_0367.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387708881544197890" /></a>She's getting older. Somehow each stage of life gets better than the last. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SsT8rKsww8I/AAAAAAAAAew/D9r3ft6B2VA/s1600-h/DSC_0041.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SsT8rKsww8I/AAAAAAAAAew/D9r3ft6B2VA/s320/DSC_0041.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387708872778630082" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SsT8qoSUpgI/AAAAAAAAAeo/JHBqjNpMQ9I/s1600-h/DSC_0023.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SsT8qoSUpgI/AAAAAAAAAeo/JHBqjNpMQ9I/s320/DSC_0023.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387708863540930050" /></a>Two weeks ago, she turned 1! Our little girl is walking all over the place, into EVERYTHING. She is so much fun to play with. She mimics us, and even copies the inflections in our voices. She's saying several syllables, and a few actually mean something. What a joy.<br /><br /></div></div>joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-49072428682955825982009-04-18T00:11:00.002-05:002009-04-18T00:15:44.798-05:00Everything You Ever Wanted to Know<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'lucida grande'; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px; "><div><br /></div>Kissed any one of your Facebook friends? yes<br />Been arrested? no<br />Kissed someone you didn't like? no<br />Slept in until 5 PM? no<br />Fallen asleep at work/school? no<br />Held a snake? yes<br />Ran a red light? yes<br />Been suspended from school? no<br />Totaled your car/motorbike in an accident? no<br />Been fired from a job? no<br />Sang karaoke? yes<br />Done something you told yourself you wouldn't? yes<br />Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose? yes<br />Caught a snowflake on your tongue? yes<br />Kissed in the rain? yes<br />sing the shower? no<br />Sat on a rooftop? yes<br />Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes? no<br />Broken a bone? no<br />Shaved your head? yes<br />Blacked out from drinking? no<br />Played a prank on someone? yes<br />Felt like killing someone? no<br />Made your girlfriend/boyfriend cry? yes<br />Had Mexican jumping beans for pets? no<br />Been in a band? yes<br />Shot a gun? yes<br />Donated Blood? no<br />Eaten alligator meat? no<br />Eaten cheesecake? yes<br />Still love someone you shouldn't? no<br />Think about the future? yes<br />Believe in love? yes<br />Sleep on a certain side of the bed? yes<br />Talk in your sleep? no<br />Laughed until you peed your pants? yes<br />Spend too much time on Facebook? yes<br />Play/Played a musical instrument? yes<br />Lived outside of the country? no<br />Been skinny dipping? no<br />Gone sky diving? no<br />Dated someone longer than you should have? yes<br />Pierced a body part? no</span>joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-70956486342595270162009-04-16T01:04:00.000-05:002009-04-16T01:05:06.254-05:00just a minute of your time?Hi friends,<div><br></div><div>This "form letter" is entirely impersonal, but I'd like to enlist your help in something. It doesn't require anything of you except a few clicks of your mouse. We recently submitted a picture of Bella to a "Cutest Kid Contest." We did this because a) we think she's cute, and b) to be honest, I wouldn't mind having the prize money. </div> <div><br></div><div>Here's the link, just follow it, fill out the information, and we receive your vote. I think you can vote once a day, and contest runs till the end of the month. I think your vote signs you up for some email ad lists, so use a secondary email, or be prepared to "unsubscribe" from a few things. Sorry about that. Thanks for your help! </div> <div><br></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New'; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; white-space: pre-wrap; "><a href="https://www.greatamericanphotocontest.com/voter1/index.aspx?referid=EmailFriends&p=1319030&x=.JPG">https://www.greatamericanphotocontest.com/voter1/index.aspx?referid=EmailFriends&p=1319030&x=.JPG</a> </span><br> </div><div><br></div><div>- josh</div> joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-31675409685739231472009-03-25T11:42:00.003-05:002009-03-25T14:08:19.603-05:00Church MarketingThis might be one of those "don't get me started" blogs that is, in reality, a "you can't stop me" blog. <div><br /></div><div>I work in a church. Ask me a year ago if I thought I'd be working in a church. Ask me a year ago if I WANTED to work in a church. .... the answer is no, in case you don't catch sarcasm easily. Ask me 6 months ago when I went to work at a church if I wanted to work in a church. Still, no. Ask me, right now, if I want to work in a church ... you hopefully are catching on, now. </div><div><br /></div><div>I went a long time without being in a church regularly. I WENT to churches, mostly for musical reasons, but I wouldn't consider any church a "home" church. Heathenistic, I know, but I have no problem BEING the Church as opposed to GOING TO the church. </div><div><br /></div><div>But now I'm back. I'm in the same place every week, and what's more, I'm on staff, and I get to see all the little details that make a church function. This was no mystery to me; I grew up a pastor's kid, so I know that church is more than songs and sermons. But as the Church is changing, it's interesting (and scary, and frustrating, and depressing, and hopeless) to see how churches are fighting to keep relevance in the world. </div><div><br /></div><div>Just the other day I was thinking about what it was that frustrated me most. I came up with this: I hate marketing. It occurred to me a few weeks ago in a meeting that I really don't know why people go to church. I know why people <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">should</span> go to church. I know why <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I</span> would go to church if I wasn't employed by one. </div><div><br /></div><div>The problem I have is that the reason we should "go to church" (which, preferably, should read "be a part of a church") comes from our spirit, while Church Marketing tends to appeal to our flesh. The spirit is selfless, and so should be our reasons for being in the church. Then why do we spend so much time trying to attract church-goers' flesh? </div><div><br /></div><div>Instead of attracting people to a weekly service where their spirit can be refueled (assuming that spirit has been accessed during the week), why do we advertise great music and good speaking? When an event has actual spiritual girth to it, why is the marketed geared towards the food or prizes involved? </div><div><br /></div><div>This post is, as usual for me, to ask more questions than give answers. But, I wonder often if we would just let the Holy Spirit be Lord over our churches, and not our marketing team (or pastors who need to be teaching and leading, rather than marketing), how would that affect today's Church? Less people would show up, that's the first thing. While most would see that as the first sign of failure, I honestly see it as the first sign of success, because the people left over would be there for the content, not the context. THEN, those that have come for the right reasons will invite for the right reasons, and will share for the right reasons, and will evangelize for the right reasons, and "make disciples" for the right reasons. THAT'S a Church I want to be a part of. I'm tired of thinking of ways to convince people to join a club, to attend a meeting, to go on missions. We need to stop appealing to flesh and being disappointed when the Spirit doesn't get involved (or worse yet, shocked when He does get involved). Start teaching how to live in the spirit and I think Church Marketing will redeem itself. And it will stop <a href="http://www.churchmarketingsucks.com/archives/2009/03/church_marketin_123.html">sucking.</a> </div>joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-80852419252025885512009-03-25T11:19:00.003-05:002009-03-25T11:42:33.445-05:00Blog.Erase.Blog.Erase.Blog about erased blog.There's been maybe three blogs in the last month that I've started and erased. This is mostly because I would start writing something that seemed like a good idea, but then I realized there ended up being no real conclusion to what I was trying to say. I think in pictures sometimes, and I can catch a glimpse of an idea all at once, and it makes sense, but if I try to pick it apart and write about it, step by step, it's a little inconclusive. <div><br /></div><div>For example, I realized I don't like maintenance. Oh! The blog on that topic was going to be monumental in its content and relevance. I had all these examples lined up, like how I wish you could just buy a car and it worked perfectly until you got a new one. I don't like having to get the oil changed and spending money on other maintenance. </div><div><br /></div><div>I was going to talk about how I don't like making the bed, because you're just going to mess it up that night and have to make it again in the morning. I don't like having to squeegee the water off the glass shower. I don't like that software and hardware get old and need replacing (usually all at the same time). </div><div><br /></div><div>These things have alot to do with how my personality works, I guess. I don't like mundane repeated tasks. </div><div><br /></div><div>The point at which I erased this blog was where I started to realize that these "mundane" things went deeper, and I realized that's why relationships can be difficult for me sometimes. I enjoy relationships (and I realize their importance), but sometimes the "maintenance" of relationships gets in my way so that I can't enjoy the beauty of my humanity relating to another's. I tend to look at things from a "task" perspective, so that even relationships can feel like work. One of the scariest things about marriage to me is the constant maintenance it has required, and will require. I know it's worth it, and I accept the challenge because I know it's been given by God. He wouldn't have given me a wife (or child, for that matter) if he knew I couldn't handle it. </div><div><br /></div><div>That's where I'm growing, and I guess I worried that sharing an area of growth, instead of an area of victory, would be too honest for a blog. ... And now I've blogged it.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div> </div>joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-24561225764263431672009-03-16T11:40:00.003-05:002009-03-16T12:43:40.351-05:00Breakfast.One topic. One blog. Short sentences. That aren't really sentences, but phrases or words with a period at the end to imply a pause and give weight to those phrases or words. <div><br /></div><div>I'm tired of working on Mondays. The weekends beat me up, and I have to get up on Mondays and start it all again. I used to take Mondays off, especially when I was playing three or four gigs per weekend. I rarely even answered my phone on Mondays. It was nice. But, life dictates that I must work on Mondays now. </div><div><br /></div><div>Today was a little better though, because I decided to stop at McDonald's for "breakfast." It was 11:30am, but the first meal of the day is breakfast no matter when it happens. I got two Snack Wrap Macs, which I really like (more than I should, probably). It was one of those meal experiences where the last bite was the best bite. I like for the last bite to leave a good mouth memory. </div><div><br /></div><div>I also ordered a large iced coffee. I realized why I like McDonald's iced coffee. It's really not that good, but it reminds me of the coffee I used to make when I first started drinking coffee. I was probably 10 or 11 and my dad would let me get some coffee at church. Back then, I think, the coffee was just an excuse to drink sugar packets and powdered creamer. Mix that with percolated church blend, and you have yourself a memory. McD's coffee tastes like an iced version of the coffee of my youth. Of course, it would take 7 or 8 to actually add up to the amount of caffeine I require now. </div><div><br /></div><div>I decided to try these new cinnamon melts they have now. They were fantastic but oozed of "not good for me." </div><div><br /></div><div>Well, I just found all of those things on <a href="http://www.thedailyplate.com/">The Daily Plate</a> ... Ugh, I just wasted 1300 calories on breakfast. Looks like I'll be eating lettuce for the rest of the day. Why are there so many things that are not healthy? </div><div><br /></div><div>I just wrote all that about breakfast. I really wish I had something more important to say. Maybe next time. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-81408773239338954412009-03-12T17:41:00.003-05:002009-03-12T18:05:50.089-05:00Overdue Baby PicsI'm so sorry! It's been forever since I've posted pictures of Bella! I know some of you have probably surfed my way several times and been disappointed by my theological and philosophical rants, wondering how that little girl was growing up. I'm going to stop talking now, except to walk you through the last few months of pictures:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmQ-7dG06I/AAAAAAAAAco/tdWKDDfShUQ/s1600-h/DSC_1110.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmQ-7dG06I/AAAAAAAAAco/tdWKDDfShUQ/s320/DSC_1110.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312436646246273954" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">We have started practicing on oatmeal. Bella is usually Ok for a few bites, but then decides that a bottle is way faster, so why are you making me eat from this tiny spoon?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmQ_MrY0FI/AAAAAAAAAcw/3Tp-QNIaO9Y/s1600-h/DSC_0005.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmQ_MrY0FI/AAAAAAAAAcw/3Tp-QNIaO9Y/s320/DSC_0005.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312436650869575762" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">A valentine's visit from Granna and Papa (the Smith grandparents).</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmQ_a6Cx7I/AAAAAAAAAc4/9x_lN3cA5EQ/s1600-h/IMG_0180.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmQ_a6Cx7I/AAAAAAAAAc4/9x_lN3cA5EQ/s320/IMG_0180.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312436654689142706" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Booyah ... that's my daughter sitting playing piano by herself. Why did I just say "Booyah"? 1995 called, they want their slang term back.</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmQ_YU-ehI/AAAAAAAAAdA/HhQqJL4geGY/s1600-h/DSC_0002.JPG"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmQ_YU-ehI/AAAAAAAAAdA/HhQqJL4geGY/s320/DSC_0002.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312436653996800530" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">We took a short walk to the park last week for some Spring pictures. Bella was going for the "thoughtful, serious" look in this one.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmQ_yOdi0I/AAAAAAAAAdI/Ia4O4olerRY/s1600-h/DSC_0007.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmQ_yOdi0I/AAAAAAAAAdI/Ia4O4olerRY/s320/DSC_0007.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312436660948798274" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Having fun with Mommy.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmRyAGzvPI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/sVyySVut5SA/s1600-h/DSC_0011.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmRyAGzvPI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/sVyySVut5SA/s320/DSC_0011.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312437523668253938" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmRyNKBTNI/AAAAAAAAAdY/Q8quMZsRIu4/s1600-h/DSC_0020.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmRyNKBTNI/AAAAAAAAAdY/Q8quMZsRIu4/s320/DSC_0020.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312437527171386578" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">"Daddy! Did you see those ducks?!?" ... That's what she would say if she could.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmRyeuG5iI/AAAAAAAAAdg/AWX4r2i1YiM/s1600-h/DSC_0041.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmRyeuG5iI/AAAAAAAAAdg/AWX4r2i1YiM/s320/DSC_0041.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312437531886151202" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmSiQrnCnI/AAAAAAAAAeI/zgHTMoMl3wc/s1600-h/DSC_0030.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmSiQrnCnI/AAAAAAAAAeI/zgHTMoMl3wc/s320/DSC_0030.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312438352751299186" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">She took some silly pictures with Daddy.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmSiOdl5II/AAAAAAAAAeA/UOLf0ewORFA/s1600-h/DSC_0078.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmSiOdl5II/AAAAAAAAAeA/UOLf0ewORFA/s320/DSC_0078.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312438352155632770" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This is usually what happens after a few spoonfuls.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmSh8RQGlI/AAAAAAAAAd4/AK4TFH1_9bM/s1600-h/DSC_0085.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmSh8RQGlI/AAAAAAAAAd4/AK4TFH1_9bM/s320/DSC_0085.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312438347272034898" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">We're sitting up now! She can sit up by herself for a few minutes, and is trying very hard to start crawling. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmShiigMTI/AAAAAAAAAdw/2JVhrgtmrtk/s1600-h/DSC_0090.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 229px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmShiigMTI/AAAAAAAAAdw/2JVhrgtmrtk/s320/DSC_0090.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312438340365070642" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">These next few were taken just today while she was playing. She was smiling at me alot, so I grabbed the camera and got these framable gems.</div></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmShOlQ9gI/AAAAAAAAAdo/LVWHcI2HKpE/s1600-h/DSC_0094.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SbmShOlQ9gI/AAAAAAAAAdo/LVWHcI2HKpE/s320/DSC_0094.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312438335007946242" /></a><br /><br /></div>joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-61268807315306065882009-03-01T18:08:00.002-06:002009-03-01T18:10:14.649-06:00March 1, 2009I was thinking of getting into sports, like a real man. I might join <a href="http://www.playcornhole.org/president.shtml">this club</a>. They have a president and everything.joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-84821403296416207722009-02-28T11:33:00.000-06:002009-02-28T11:35:15.723-06:00ValidationThis is really great. <br /><br /><br /><object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Cbk980jV7Ao&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Cbk980jV7Ao&hl=en&fs=1&rel=0&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object>joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-49505086695407549842009-02-26T20:59:00.002-06:002009-02-26T21:16:20.693-06:00"Then"I had a thought today. Of course, I can't remember what it was now...... <div><br /></div><div>Oh yes, let's see where this goes: </div><div><br /></div><div>How often do you say, "I can't wait until..."? I think that way too often. It always seems like the next chapter of life will be so much clearer and better. When I was in high school, I couldn't wait until college. In college I couldn't wait to be out of college. Then I couldn't wait to date someone, then I couldn't wait to be engaged, to be married. Once I was married, my next "can't wait" happened before I could really wish for it. I could have waited a little longer for a kid :-). But this is what we've been given. Now I can't wait for her to crawl or talk, then it'll be walking, school, bikes, .... I always think the next step will bring less stress, less confusion, more opportunity. I guess every chapter in life has to have its conflict, right? </div><div><br /></div><div>I know the churchy answers, that we're supposed to find contentment now, that tomorrow isn't promised, etc. But how? How do I make life work NOW when I think next year will be easier? I know full well that next year will be even harder, and I'll think "next year" will be easier. But something keeps me positive thinking that things will "smooth out" or we'll find some kind of "groove" to settle in. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm not sure I'm making a lot of sense right now, and I definitely know I'm not concluding with any sure answer here. Actually, I'm not even quite sure of what my question is. Things really are great right now; I don't want to miss that by wishing it was later, because the concept of "later" is going to get smaller and smaller, and I'll start wishing it was "then." </div>joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-80814545551479773832009-02-24T10:24:00.001-06:002009-02-24T10:24:52.319-06:00Does "outreach" mean getting people in the doors of the church, or in the gate of heaven? ... Discuss.joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-5675991008309672032009-02-19T10:15:00.002-06:002009-02-19T10:18:15.131-06:00That Was Moving DayI give you "That Was Moving Day." <br /><br />I would LOVE to sit and make all sorts of excuses about how I didn't take enough pictures, how they are edited poorly, how I forgot my camera was set to "manual focus" instead of "auto focus," so most of them are blurry ... but I'm not going to do that. Here's my very first attempt at anything resembling stop motion video. More importantly, here's what our moving day looked like:<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/A--Z3_3MVNM&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/A--Z3_3MVNM&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-1838942262818767622009-02-12T12:34:00.004-06:002009-02-12T12:51:33.123-06:00Entertain Me. now.Sometimes I read blogs and it seems like the writers do absolutely nothing but sit on their computers trying to find interesting things to share. It's a strange culture, this internet. I don't really do that too often, but today I found two videos that I thought were kinda funny. The first is a home-made commercial for the store Trader Joe's. I don't think I've ever been to Trader Joe's, but that doesn't prevent me from finding this really funny and well-written. <div><br /></div><div><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/OdB7GDZY3Pk&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/OdB7GDZY3Pk&color1=0xb1b1b1&color2=0xcfcfcf&hl=en&feature=player_embedded&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /></div><br />The next is a video of a girl doing voice-over captions to pictures of kittens. most of them are what you'd expect from a 6 year old, but a few are super funny. I laughed. <div><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/FtX8nswnUKU&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/FtX8nswnUKU&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></div><br /><br />Today, I also learned that Mr. Rogers (of Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood) was a huge supporter of making VCR's legal in the U.S., so that people could be more active in the control of their lives. He found it important that people could program their own lives and schedules, and not be programmed by others. I can't help but think of how this has evolved to DVR's and TiVO and U-Verse and all of these technologies. I LOVE that I rarely watch any of my favorite shows when they actually come on. It's so much healthier, and lets the technology serve ME instead of me serving the technology. Mmkay, that's all I have today.joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-13959133521270236522009-02-09T11:37:00.000-06:002009-02-09T11:38:51.674-06:00iMa Nerd.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial; font-size: 13px; "><div>You are among my favorite people if you understand this joke....</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>C, E-flat and G go into a bar. The bartender says, "sorry, but we don't serve minors." So E-flat leaves, and C and G have an open fifth between them. After a few drinks, the fifth is diminished and G is out flat. F comes in and tries to augment the situation, but is not sharp enough. D comes in and heads for the bathroom saying, "Excuse me. I'll just be a second." Then A comes in, but the bartender is not convinced that this relative of C is not a minor.<span> </span>Then the bartender notices B-flat hiding at the end of the bar and says, "Get out! You're the seventh minor I've found in this bar tonight." E-Flat comes back the next night in a three-piece suit with nicely shined shoes. The bartender says, "you're looking sharp tonight. Come on in, this could be a major development. " Sure enough, E-flat soon takes off his suit and everything else, and is au natural. Eventually C sobers up and realizes in horror that he's under a rest. C is brought to trial, found guilty of contributing to the diminution of a minor, and is sentenced to 10 years of D.S. without Coda at an upscale correctional facility.</span>joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-40168638418705394342009-01-29T16:35:00.010-06:002009-01-29T23:05:27.622-06:00The ReturnHi Reader(s),<br /><br />If there's one thing you haven't seen in the last few weeks, it's an update from me. So, buckle up. You're about to hear new things, see new pictures, and experience feelings unexplained ... or you will just read me ramble about my life and leave wondering why you wasted your time. <div><br /></div><div>In order for me to have one of those blogs that everyone keeps returning to, I need to do two things. A) I need to update more often. Sorry about that. B) I need to include links to interesting, thought-provoking sites that influence your life. And C), I need pictures of my cute daughter:</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SYIzeHUX0gI/AAAAAAAAAbw/a4Y0MruUdXw/s1600-h/DSC_0933.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SYIzeHUX0gI/AAAAAAAAAbw/a4Y0MruUdXw/s320/DSC_0933.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296852704194712066" /></a><br /><div>Ok, let's talk about thought-provocation. I really like <a href="http://www.larknews.com/">Larknews.com</a>. I would love to just leave you with that link and let you visit the site and wonder if all of the stories are true. That would entertain me. But, I'll let you in on a secret: the stories are fabricated. But they're pretty funny. </div><div><br /></div><div>Here's another picture of my cute daughter:</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SYI2gbvCwYI/AAAAAAAAAb4/fBIcn28cTjE/s1600-h/DSC_0794.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SYI2gbvCwYI/AAAAAAAAAb4/fBIcn28cTjE/s320/DSC_0794.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296856042569908610" /></a><br /> We're about to move into a house! Our lease was up in November at the apartment, which is slowly shrinking with a growing baby and her paraphernalia. We've been doing month to month rent since then, with the intention of either buying, or renting for a year before we buy. In December we put in our 2 month notice, and must be out by Feb 15. Financially, we aren't ready to buy yet, and renting for a year is looking a little disappointing. A family in our church found out about our situation, and offered to let us stay in their house while they are living in Russia for the next year. We can stay as long as we need, or as short as we'd like. They are returning for a 3-4 week trip at the end of July, so our goal is to be in our own place by the time they come back. The best part is that we will only have to pay for utilities. So, this should be a great chance for us to save and really make some good decisions about buying a home this summer. </div><div><br /></div><div>Hey! Here's Bella:</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SYI-I2lgkYI/AAAAAAAAAcA/UyfLvmQyAUY/s1600-h/DSC_0777.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SYI-I2lgkYI/AAAAAAAAAcA/UyfLvmQyAUY/s320/DSC_0777.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296864433553838466" /></a><br />The worship leading job is going alright. It's not without its share of frustrations, but I'm learning alot. If nothing else, I'm learning about who I am and what I really want out of life and career. </div><div><br /></div><div>Way back in, oh, September maybe, I re-read part of a book I started back in college. I don't think I was quite ready for it then, but the part I read in September, I believe, is for me now. It spoke of missions, and going into other cultures. Basically, the most effective missionaries are not those who go in and try to change the culture of the people they are reaching. The most effective missionaries are those that enter a culture, and help to redeem that culture to Christ. </div><div><br /></div><div>For example, imagine if someone went to an African tribe and said, "You can't play your tribal drums or do your tribal dances. The drums have been used to summon evil spirits, so they are evil; your dances use your bodies in inappropriate ways, so they are evil, too. You must, basically, be western in your culture, because that's what I know, and so that's what is best." </div><div><br /></div><div>All that does is strip the people of their identity, force them into western thought and practice, and turn them off to the gospel message. Mission failed. </div><div><br /></div><div>How much more effective would a missionary be if they were to go into a country and help the natives to use their culture to worship God? What if, now, when they played the drums, they were summoning the Holy Spirit? What if their dances were now used to show the tribe the change that God is doing in their lives, and express their gratitude for how He is changing them? </div><div> </div><div>I think our own "Christian Culture" is so focused on <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">changing</span> the world, we forget that God is doing work to <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">redeem </span>the world! That's why our contemporary music used to be forbidden in churches. Why is it Ok now? It's because the Church has slowly allowed God to redeem music, rather than try to change the culture. </div><div><br /></div><div>Why am I saying all that? Well, first, just in case you hadn't thought of that before. I had to get out and take a walk after I read those things for the first time, to let it all soak in. It's HUGE. What would happen if we stopped trying to change people and start letting God redeem people? </div><div><br /></div><div>Secondly, I think that's where my purpose in leading worship at this specific location is found. I'm in an unusual situation where we are moving from more contemporary to more traditional. I had no intentions of doing a traditional worship service when I came on board, but I don't have any say in the situation. I feel that God has me here, though, to help to redeem the traditional elements. I feel like I'm supposed to help teach true, spiritual, worship through traditional songs--to redeem a culture. </div><div><br /></div><div>Wanna see my cute daughter, Bella?</div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SYKB4yyYkSI/AAAAAAAAAcI/irTKMjDB-wo/s1600-h/DSC_0793_2.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SYKB4yyYkSI/AAAAAAAAAcI/irTKMjDB-wo/s320/DSC_0793_2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296938924446880034" /></a><br />Welp, I wrote more than I thought. I don't want to bore you. That's rule number 4 about blogging. Don't bore your reader. If you've got a little time and want to see what I've been doing instead of blogging, look <a href="http://www.ihardlyknowher.com/joshsmith81">here</a>. And if you are interested in seeing an article with a super cool picture at the top, look no further than <a href="http://www.weddingsinhouston.com/article.asp?article_id=222">here</a>. If you want to hear something I've recorded on lately, check out this album: <a href="http://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewAlbum?i=302425901&id=302425733&s=143441"><img height="15" width="61" alt="Patrick Alan Brown - Where You Can Just Be You" src="http://ax.itunes.apple.com/images/badgeitunes61x15dark.gif" /></a> I played strings on "Shoes Untied." </div><div><br /></div><div>Since I haven't really blogged since then, Merry Christmas from my family:</div><div><br /></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SYKEaeoF6jI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/cbIxRGEnXeg/s1600-h/DSC_0124.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SYKEaeoF6jI/AAAAAAAAAcQ/cbIxRGEnXeg/s320/DSC_0124.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296941702173813298" /></a><br /></div>joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-22142453609716862452008-12-17T11:15:00.003-06:002008-12-17T12:50:01.247-06:00Sojourn "Advent Songs"Three of the last four years, I've recorded on Christmas albums. I only tell you this because it means that I start listening to Christmas music in July or August. Then, by December, when everybody else is ready for it, I'm already tired of it. Either that, or it looses its specialness because it's not attached to a season anymore. <br /><br />Well, this year I found a CD that I actually am enjoying listening to. ALOT. Very rarely do CDs get more than 1 or 2 spins in my car before they join the rotation. I think I played this one for a week straight, and there's only 8 songs. This is an EP from a church community in Louisville called "Sojourn." Most of the songs are "Advent" related, so they speak much of the coming of Christ, and a preparation for Christmas. I love these versions of "Joy to the World" and "O Come, O Come, Emanuel." My favorite original is "Glory Be." You should really get this EP. You can pay whatever you want to for it, or download it for free by telling 5 friends. iTunes also sells it for less than 8 bucks. It's worth the money. <br /><br /><div style="width:240px; height: 400px;"><object width="240" height="400"><param name="movie" value="http://static.noisetrade.com/w/NTWidget.swf?wid=810f6c84-e10b-4824-81a8-e5e7f3e3ba60"/><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"/><embed src="http://static.noisetrade.com/w/NTWidget.swf?wid=810f6c84-e10b-4824-81a8-e5e7f3e3ba60" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" width="240" height="400"></embed></object></div><img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTIyOTUzNDA2NTA5OCZwdD*xMjI5NTM*MDk1NTU1JnA9MTkwMjgxJmQ9ODEwZjZjODQlMkRlMTBiJTJENDgyNCUyRDgxYTglMkRlNWU3ZjNlM2JhNjAmbj1ibG9nZ2VyJmc9MiZ*PSZvPWIzOGQzZTFjZjZhNDRhNWJhY2RmNjdlOTYwY2Y5NTQ1.gif" />joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-50820073177724147702008-12-16T00:02:00.002-06:002008-12-17T11:39:59.760-06:00No Crying She MakesThis is a video of Bella playing Baby Jesus in the Second Baptist musical last Saturday night. She was really wonderful. She just sat and looked around, making faces. <br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/flbW8lJqZOQ&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/flbW8lJqZOQ&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object>joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-59874949048070904632008-12-04T10:47:00.013-06:002008-12-04T15:41:11.744-06:00Thanksgiving and Beyond::deep breath::<br /><br />Back to normalcy. Whatever that means, I feel like we're back to our real life again. It's been a whirlwind of a week, with alot of activity, alot of people, and ALOT of driving.<br /><br />Thanksgiving day was great. We got to have dinner with my mom's side of the family. My parents were in Las Vegas, so Bethany and I were the representatives of the Smith family. I was really excited to find out that my grandma was going to be there. She has Alzheimer's and lives in a nursing home. I haven't gotten to see her in several months, and she has never met Bella. It was actually the first time Bella got to meet most of those family members. Here's a few pictures of her meeting some family for the first time. These aren't in any chronological order.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/STg4iKnL1xI/AAAAAAAAAZg/JWjZopjod3s/s1600-h/DSC_1149.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/STg4iKnL1xI/AAAAAAAAAZg/JWjZopjod3s/s320/DSC_1149.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276029123079952146" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This is my grandfather's mother-in-law. She lives in Mexico and speaks no English. When I was younger, and her visits to my grandpa and his wife lined up with our family visits, I would always make sure I said "hola" and "adios" to her whenever we came and went. That was (and still basically is) my Spanish vocabulary. For whatever reason, she felt a bond with me and would always ask about her "little amigo." So now I'm still her little amigo, and she got to meet my daughter, who is now affectionately her "amigita."</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/STg4hvsxgrI/AAAAAAAAAZY/TVjtlAth7dQ/s1600-h/DSC_1140.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/STg4hvsxgrI/AAAAAAAAAZY/TVjtlAth7dQ/s320/DSC_1140.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276029115855635122" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Here is a man completely smitten by his great-granddaughter. This is my mom's dad, Pappaw. He absolutely loved seeing her, and out of his 10 great-grands, this is the first he's gotten to see so young, and his first to feed. She was wonderful for him, of course.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/STg57ACE_AI/AAAAAAAAAZo/-mx_AC4YWZc/s1600-h/DSC_1099.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/STg57ACE_AI/AAAAAAAAAZo/-mx_AC4YWZc/s320/DSC_1099.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276030649248316418" /></a>My family has a long legacy of music lovers. I think alot of that comes from Pappaw. In this picture he's singing a verse from "Because He Lives."</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">"How sweet to hold a newborn baby, and feel the pride and joy she gives; </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">but greater still the calm assurance, </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">this child can face uncertain days because He lives."</span> <br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/STg4hYoFGgI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/zt98dZir3XM/s1600-h/DSC_1059.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/STg4hYoFGgI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/zt98dZir3XM/s320/DSC_1059.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276029109661932034" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I don't know whether she knew who she was holding or not, but it was overwhelming to get to see my Mammaw holding my daughter. I will cherish these pictures and this day. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/STg4hHBhsVI/AAAAAAAAAZI/P6PsQjxgrr8/s1600-h/DSC_1055.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/STg4hHBhsVI/AAAAAAAAAZI/P6PsQjxgrr8/s320/DSC_1055.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276029104936825170" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This is Bella and her Great(est) Aunt Willa. Bella smiled so much for her.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> </div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SThDLA4zM1I/AAAAAAAAAZw/GL4ssumtoMs/s1600-h/DSC_1111.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SThDLA4zM1I/AAAAAAAAAZw/GL4ssumtoMs/s320/DSC_1111.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276040819960394578" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Friday after Thanksgiving I had the chance to play some music on the Riverwalk in San Antonio with an artist named <a href="http://www.darrellsmithmusic.com/">Darrell Smith</a>. We kicked off the Parade of Lights that starts the Christmas Season on the river. Bethany and Bella get the award for best gig family. They endured 10 hours outside on the Riverwalk. It was a really long day, and all of us were fighting colds. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SThEXCPbpqI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/UCIpBowLF2c/s1600-h/DSC_0012.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SThEXCPbpqI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/UCIpBowLF2c/s320/DSC_0012.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276042125993813666" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Bella and Pappaw saying good-bye for now. She was obviously heart-broken. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SThEYaW6vRI/AAAAAAAAAaI/RvoxIWxwBf0/s1600-h/DSC_0035.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SThEYaW6vRI/AAAAAAAAAaI/RvoxIWxwBf0/s320/DSC_0035.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276042149647531282" /></a><div><div style="text-align: center;">Saturday evening we drove from San Antonio to my parents' house in Montgomery, and got there just as the rest of the family was leaving. We got to sneak a few pictures in, and spent a little time with just my parents and my brother and his wife. Bella has decided that when Papa (my dad) holds her, she will stick out her bottom lip. We're not sure why she does it, but it's really cute. I was prepared with camera in hand. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SThEYBQ4i4I/AAAAAAAAAaA/Lf2TREFdtqo/s1600-h/DSC_0019.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SThEYBQ4i4I/AAAAAAAAAaA/Lf2TREFdtqo/s320/DSC_0019.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276042142911335298" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Here's a picture of 4 generations. I'm the only boy. And the only one looking at this particular camera at this particular time.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SThF2FuLbiI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/xcbBP1a39nU/s1600-h/DSC_0947.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SThF2FuLbiI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/xcbBP1a39nU/s320/DSC_0947.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276043759015652898" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Sunday afternoon, just as I was waking up from a much needed nap, we got a call saying that Bethany's grandfather was not doing so well. He's been bed-ridden for about a year-and-a-half, and somewhat unresponsive for the last few months. A few hours later we got the call that he had passed away. Monday morning we packed up again and headed to Burleson to be with Bethany's family and attend the funeral on Tuesday. We were very grateful that, not two weeks before he died, he got to see his great-granddaughter. As you can see, she had no idea what was going on, but this is another picture and event that we will all cherish. </div>joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24325821.post-80109366779038760702008-11-26T13:59:00.011-06:002008-11-26T15:17:00.280-06:00Those Were the Days<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SS27zkBjjRI/AAAAAAAAAYg/KgL49hON45U/s1600-h/DSC_0913.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SS27zkBjjRI/AAAAAAAAAYg/KgL49hON45U/s320/DSC_0913.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273077233238641938" /></a>I remember days when I used to actually read books, and write songs, and journal, and sit down at a piano or guitar for hours. Where did that time go? I even remember days when I would know exactly what I wanted to write in a blog, and I would write it. Most of the time I would be sitting alone at Starbucks, acting like the quiet artistic type. It was so much more inspiring to sit and think that people might wonder what I was writing. <br /><br />Not that sitting here watching my daughter's eyes get heavy while she swings is not inspiration enough. I can't tell you how overwhelming it is sometimes to stare into her face, or see her grin, and know that this is <span style="font-style:italic;">my</span> daughter. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SS2vogZkf-I/AAAAAAAAAYA/xLtzX-D7PlU/s1600-h/DSC_1000.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SS2vogZkf-I/AAAAAAAAAYA/xLtzX-D7PlU/s320/DSC_1000.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273063849147531234" /></a><br />I'll be honest; I get pretty caught up in the logistics of life these days, and I forget to just sit and observe. Maybe that's the difference between now, and back when I used to read and write and journal. I've always been an observer. I've always quietly placed myself a little outside from the action to watch, learn, and analyze. Now it seems like there's so much to do that I don't have much chance to look around. <br /><br />I received one of those thought-provoking emails that was forwarded to 30 other people besides me. These are usually thrown right into the trash, but today I read (meaning <span style="font-style:italic;">skimmed</span>) the words that were sent. (BTW, I'll probably die in 7 days for not sending the email to at least 10 people,... so, .... um, my bad). I honestly don't really remember what all it said, I just remember a line that was something like "we've learned to make a living, not a life." <br /><br />I love that my favorite hobby is my career. I'm thrilled at the experiences and opportunities it has brought my way. Part of me, of course, wants to be "known" as someone who is important to my field. I had a strange observation yesterday of certain circles I used to be in, how they keep rolling, with different personnel; And I don't fit in anymore. Those circles were what I needed at the time, and I moved on. I think that's a healthy way to live and grow. I can't say that my "circle" right now is exactly what I was expecting for this point in my life. But, I also don't think my heightened sense of "entitlement" is of God, so I embrace where I am and what I'm doing as God's provision.<br /><br />Don't get me wrong; I'm not upset that my career goals for age 27 look different than current reality. How stupid I would be to look at that and wonder where my life's purpose was ... when my life's purpose is 5 feet away in a battery-powered swing (I will NEVER understand why they can't just add a simple A/C adapter to these things). <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SS212ZsjP8I/AAAAAAAAAYI/5qp9VOu9qEo/s1600-h/DSC_0971.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SS212ZsjP8I/AAAAAAAAAYI/5qp9VOu9qEo/s320/DSC_0971.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273070684936028098" /></a><br /><br />I've talked about it <a href="http://josh-travels.blogspot.com/2006/04/southern-california-tour.html">before,</a> and now is the time where I start speaking things that I <span style="font-style:italic;">know</span> are true, but are harder to <span style="font-style:italic;">believe</span> are true. <br /><br />I <span style="font-style:italic;">do</span> music. I am not music. "Musician" qualifies me as someone in this society who earns money to provide for a family. I don't <span style="font-style:italic;">do</span> fatherhood, I AM a father. "Husband" is not an activity, it's an identity. In ten years, no one will care which CDs I played on, or which artists I've played for (as if anyone cared <span style="font-style:italic;">now</span>), what will matter is how much love and peace is found in my home. What will matter is how much my daughter trusts me, and how close we are because of quality time spent together. What will matter is how in love I am with my wife, even after 11 years, in my late 30s (*shudder*). Yes, I admit I want my family to be proud of what I do, and what I've done, and continue to have reasons to be proud of my accomplishments. But more than that (naming it, claiming it here), I want for them to be proud of the love they receive from a dad who is <span style="font-style:italic;">there,</span> who pays attention, who teaches, who leads, who provides, and who might be a little quiet and withdrawn at times, just observing the blessings that he has. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SS26hKCILgI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/RHsjQCRdG9w/s1600-h/DSC_0829-pola01.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 263px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_zExzpn_lnhg/SS26hKCILgI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/RHsjQCRdG9w/s320/DSC_0829-pola01.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273075817512447490" /></a><br />This Thanksgiving, I am thankful for my own little family. I'm thankful for my dream girl, who liked me enough to marry me and combine our life's journeys. I'm thankful for my little dream girl, a complete surprise and an even more complete joy. <br /><br />I'm also thankful for <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/32625018@N05/">Flikr</a>, and my ability to completely ruin a moment. :-) Have a good holiday! Eat more than you should!joshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05702519598595457236noreply@blogger.com1