<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594</id><updated>2011-04-21T21:05:53.091-04:00</updated><title type='text'>To whom shall I go?</title><subtitle type='html'>When all options are expended and you are left alone, there is but one question that matters.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>44</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-7860081066078700168</id><published>2008-11-18T21:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-18T21:28:37.813-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Hindu, a Rabbi, a Muslim, and Matt walk into a...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xUASxvkb-WY/SSN5xQ9IdoI/AAAAAAAAAB8/sI5Y7ecOz90/s1600-h/diversity.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xUASxvkb-WY/SSN5xQ9IdoI/AAAAAAAAAB8/sI5Y7ecOz90/s400/diversity.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270189876225537666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Lucida Grande&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Lucida Grande&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;Today marked a new experience for me.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I was one of four people invited to be on a religious diversity seminar/panel (although henceforth I will call it a symposium because that sounds big time).&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Every time I begin the story, I feel like I'm telling a joke about some religious types walking into a bar.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Anyway, Dave and I walked in the building on Lawrence Technical University's campus and headed toward the room where the symposium was to take place.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The first thing I saw was a table with a guy sitting at it with a banner that said, "LTU Friends - OUT!"&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What more could you want at the diversity symposium than the gay and lesbian association!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The really good news was that they were giving away free cookies and wow, they were delicious!&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I make some small talk (consisting of "hi" and "good cookies").&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Next was my meeting and hanging out with the other speakers.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;We mostly shot the breeze but at one point the Rabbi said, "Well, today should be interesting."&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And then the Hindu responded with, "Well, it should all sound the same."&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This is where I knew that I was in trouble.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I'm pretty sure my comments would not sound like the Hindu man's comments.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Anyway, before we began, the moderator introduced the order (each of us have 15 minutes to give an overview of our beliefs) and she reminded everyone to pick up the free stickers that were offered.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You know, the ones that say “coexist” with different religious symbols making up the letters.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The set up was obvious, we were expected to get along and present a religion that can coexist with the other ones without offense.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Bad news for me...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Lucida Grande&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Lucida Grande&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Lucida Grande&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Lucida Grande&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;The man representing Hinduism said virtually nothing.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;At the end of his 15 minutes, he said that Hinduism is great but pretty much whatever you believe will eventually get you to the same good place.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Up next was the Rabbi.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;He spoke well enough but didn't seem to be very Jewish to me.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I gotta be honest; my guess is that Father Abraham was none to happy with that presentation.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;By this time, the students were out of it.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The Hindu and Jewish presentations had a similar affect as Tylenol PM.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was then that I realized I had to pull out the big guns.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Lucida Grande&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Lucida Grande&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Lucida Grande&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Lucida Grande&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;Thinking quickly with my razor wit, I picked up on a story the Rabbi told about Moses and transitioned into the burning bush narrative.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Then I went Gaffigan with it.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;You know, where he ends his routine with, "Moses, we think you've been burnin' some bush."&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;While I may not be invited back, it did the trick; the students were with me and awake (it could have been that they thought they were getting weed or something).&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I moved into talking about how Christians are portrayed in pop culture using Angela from the Office as the example (I did dip into Ned Flanders as well).&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The point being that pop culture sees Christians as judgmental, hypocritical, mean spirited, backward, and self-righteous.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Angela is really nothing like Jesus, nor should the person who follows Jesus be like Angela.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I moved on to what we do believe about the Bible (our one and only authoritative foundation), God, Man, Creation, and the Fall.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;When I arrived at the Fall, I dropped the big one.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I said that because of sin, every human born has a default setting of hell when it comes to eternity.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;That landed with a thud.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It was like I said the most outrageous claim that could be made.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I moved quickly to redemption and salvation through Jesus Christ alone, that only through him can our default setting be changed to heaven when we die and enter into eternity.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;From there I wrapped it up and I think I made some sense.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My goal as I went into this was to a.) help the students who attended to realize that alot of what they see and hear about Christians is not who Jesus is and that being disappointed or disillusioned with someone who claims to follow Jesus is not a valid reason to reject Christianity and b.) show that there is an urgency about the Christian message that must be dealt with because if it is true, there are ultimate consequences.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I finished and then the young woman representing Islam finished off.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Again, she watered down what I know to be true about the faith and mostly talked about how great Islam is for women.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Lucida Grande&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Lucida Grande&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Lucida Grande&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Lucida Grande&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;That was the end of the presentations which opened the floor to questions.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Apparently, no one wanted to stay any longer than they had to and no one asked questions.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The moderator was about to dismiss when a female student dressed in Muslim apparel raised her hand and said, "I have a question for Matt."&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This was it, the moment of relative truth; I could answer a question in the symposium... Then, she asked, "Who is Angela?"&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My response, "She is a character on the TV show, the Office."&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;To which the Hindu man added, "She's not in the Bible" (his comment is much funnier if you read it with a thick Indian accent).&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And with that, we were done.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Lucida Grande&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Lucida Grande&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Lucida Grande&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Lucida Grande&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;The really cool thing about today was that after the moderator dismissed everyone, two young women came up to me and we talked about Jesus and Christianity for about 20-25 minutes.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This was the girl who asked the question and her sister.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They are Muslim but they are still seeking for truth.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They were really interested in what I had shared.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I ended up giving them my Bible because they didn't have one and Dave prayed for them that God would show himself to them as they searched for Him.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;mso-pagination: none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Lucida Grande&amp;quot;;mso-bidi-Lucida Grande&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:&amp;quot;Lucida Grande&amp;quot;; mso-bidi-Lucida Grande&amp;quot;font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:11.0pt;"&gt;As I look back on the diversity symposium, I am really thankful and humbled that I could be there.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I felt good about the way things went but I doubt that I will get invited back.&lt;span style="mso-spacerun: yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I guess that's okay... people didn't always want Jesus back either (not that I am putting myself in his class but I sure do try to reflect him in the best way I can).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-7860081066078700168?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/7860081066078700168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=7860081066078700168' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/7860081066078700168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/7860081066078700168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2008/11/hindu-rabbi-muslim-and-matt-walk-into.html' title='A Hindu, a Rabbi, a Muslim, and Matt walk into a...'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xUASxvkb-WY/SSN5xQ9IdoI/AAAAAAAAAB8/sI5Y7ecOz90/s72-c/diversity.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-7845177713477566253</id><published>2008-09-21T22:20:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-21T22:55:23.482-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Least of These...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xUASxvkb-WY/SNcCHoJwlnI/AAAAAAAAAB0/TgLY_4lpxbA/s1600-h/bbq.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xUASxvkb-WY/SNcCHoJwlnI/AAAAAAAAAB0/TgLY_4lpxbA/s400/bbq.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248666220784293490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yesterday, I took about 20 young adults to a park in Detroit.  It's called the Homeless BBQ and I try to do it once a month on a Saturday afternoon.  We bring a grill and a crapload of food to feed the many homeless and struggling people in the area of 2nd and Seldon downtown.  The thing is, we don't go there just to feed them, which is important, but we go there to spend time with them, to hear their stories, and to do what little we can that may offer them hope.  There are so many beautiful people that we have the opportunity to serve.  They have amazing stories about where they've been and why they are there.  There are alot of cool things that happen when we go to the D to serve but something happened yesterday that needs to be shared.  Brad and Alex (two college guys in our group) went over and started talking to a guy named James.  James has spent the last 15 years in prison and was released about a month ago.  About 2 weeks ago, James met Jesus and has since committed his life to following Jesus.  Brad and Alex sat down and listened to James.  As James was talking to them, Keith walked up and sat down.  None of these guys actually knew each other, Brad and Alex just met in my car as we drove down.  James and Keith didn't know each other either.  As they sat, Keith shared with the other three that he came to that park on that day to end his life.  There's a gazebo in the middle of the park that he was going to tie a rope to and hang himself.  Keith didn't know that there was going to be a bunch of suburban Christians from various churches feeding people and having a party.  Keith was at rock bottom.  He was just released about two weeks ago from serving a 25 year prison term.  He has no hope of a job... actually, he has no hope at all.  In fact, Keith went to his daughter's house on Friday to say good bye.  He didn't want any food because dead men don't eat.  Brad, Alex, and James spent the better part of the afternoon talking to Keith.  I saw them talking and it looked like they were into something - little did I know that they were actually trying to save Keith's life.  James kept saying to Keith that he was exactly at that same place two weeks ago but he met a guy who told him about Jesus.  Keith said that he has hope and that God doesn't want anyone to end their own life.  Brad and Alex listened and offered hope and encouragement.  So, what happened?  Keith ate lunch with Brad, Alex, and James.  He also decided that he wouldn't end his life, at least for now.  In fact, he was going to walk to his daughters house and let her know that he is alright.  James is going to reconnect with Keith later in the week.  &lt;div&gt;Here's the thing, Brad and Alex went to the BBQ expecting to hang out and maybe serve some food to people who are not like them.  What actually happened is that they met one man who they had everything in common with and another man who they needed to provide hope for.  Of all the parks in the city of Detroit, Keith came to our park.  Brad, Alex, and James were used by God to save one man's life... literally.  If you've ever wondered if you should go somewhere or talk to somebody, I would suggest that you do it.  I think the foundational difference between people God uses and people God doesn't, is that the people God uses simply show up.  That's what Brad and Alex did - they showed up.  I often wonder it what I do and what I plan for people to be involved in makes any real difference.  Yesterday, it did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-7845177713477566253?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/7845177713477566253/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=7845177713477566253' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/7845177713477566253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/7845177713477566253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2008/09/least-of-these.html' title='The Least of These...'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xUASxvkb-WY/SNcCHoJwlnI/AAAAAAAAAB0/TgLY_4lpxbA/s72-c/bbq.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-2290975624451725231</id><published>2008-09-18T23:07:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-18T23:21:39.867-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Voices in my head... oh wait, his head</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUASxvkb-WY/SNMafl0xpeI/AAAAAAAAABs/wQ4PCf0I5H4/s1600-h/CIMG0001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUASxvkb-WY/SNMafl0xpeI/AAAAAAAAABs/wQ4PCf0I5H4/s400/CIMG0001.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5247567120848496098" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, Sherri was in the car with Josh and Josh was asking her about Halloween.  This might be because when Josh and I were out the other day, we walked through the Halloween USA store.  Anyway, here's how the conversation went...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Mommy, is Halloween almost here?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Yes."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Thank you Mommy!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Well, you don't have to thank me because I didn't really do anything, it is just that time of year."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Oh... thank you Jesus!  I should thank Jesus right now.  Dear Jesus, thank you that it's almost Halloween."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Mommy, sometimes when I'm not saying anything, I hear someone talking in my head."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Is that just you thinking?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"No... I think it's Jesus talking to me."  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Do you think so?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Yes, because I just heard him say, 'Yes Josh, it is.'"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm pretty sure that my son is a) a prophet, b) inhabited by something strange, or c) inherited the Whiteford crazy gene.  There might be other options, but that's all I've got right now.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-2290975624451725231?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/2290975624451725231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=2290975624451725231' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/2290975624451725231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/2290975624451725231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2008/09/voices-in-my-head-oh-wait-his-head.html' title='Voices in my head... oh wait, his head'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUASxvkb-WY/SNMafl0xpeI/AAAAAAAAABs/wQ4PCf0I5H4/s72-c/CIMG0001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-4285227062813747809</id><published>2008-09-06T22:46:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T23:45:48.544-04:00</updated><title type='text'>WWID?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:17.0pt;color:#666666;"&gt;We received the following e-mail from a gentleman in our hood on Thursday.  Here it is...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:ArialMT;font-size:13.0pt;"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;table border="1" cellspacing="0" cellpadding="0" style="border-collapse:collapse; mso-table-layout-alt:fixed;border:none;mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt"&gt;  &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;   &lt;td width="597" style="width:597.0pt;border:none;padding:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt"&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:15.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:  none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:TimesNewRomanPSMT;font-size:13.0pt;"&gt;Cedarspring   Estates Homeowner,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:ArialMT;font-size:13.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:15.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:  none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:TimesNewRomanPSMT;font-size:13.0pt;"&gt;The   following information was provided by Jon Dean.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:ArialMT;font-size:13.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:15.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:  none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:TimesNewRomanPSMT;font-size:13.0pt;"&gt;A   robbery took place today around noon. Jon Dean came home to find an   unfamiliar car in his driveway. He parked behind the car and went in the   front door. A male was behind the door. The male took a swing at Jon. Jon   avoided being hit. The male told Jon to move Jon's car so the male could get   out of the driveway. He threatened to harm Jon if he did not move the car.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:ArialMT;font-size:13.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:15.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:  none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:TimesNewRomanPSMT;font-size:13.0pt;"&gt;Jon   moved the car. The male fled. Jon chased the robber. He could not get   a license plate number. The guy got away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:ArialMT;font-size:13.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:15.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:  none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:TimesNewRomanPSMT;font-size:13.0pt;"&gt;Jon   filed a police report. Several valuables were stolen. Jon said that his   neighbor's house had also been robbed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="  ;font-family:ArialMT;font-size:13.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height:15.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:  none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:TimesNewRomanPSMT;font-size:13.0pt;"&gt;Please   share this information with your neighbors.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:ArialMT;font-size:13.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;/td&gt;  &lt;/tr&gt; &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-line-height-alt:15.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;color:#666666;"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-line-height-alt:15.0pt;mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;color:#666666;"&gt;Alright, I don't actually know who Jon is, I don't know if he is young or old, has a family or not and I'm not judging him, however, I feel that there were some impressive moves and some miss-steps throughout this situation.  1) Excellent move in parking behind the perp (the robber will henceforth be referred to as the "perp" not to be confused with the "perv" although he may be that as well).  2) Excellent and impressive move in dodging the initial attack (and a question for the perp, "How the frick do you miss punching a guy who doesn't know you are there?"  Idiot).  3) We are now at the point that Jon has to make a choice because the perp has kindly asked him to move his car.  Remember, the perp is not exactly "accurate" with his fists.  I can imagine the request, "Hey buddy, you better move you #@%&amp;amp; car or I will punch in your general direction a second time and this time you'll know I'm coming."  I like Jon's chances at this point but Jon responds by moving his car.  Now, to defend Jon, he may have spent all his energy dodging the initial punch so he is either a man who knows his limits or he is not a man at all.  I will give him the benefit of the doubt because I do not know him and at this point, he may have a plan.  4) Now Jon is in his car, and the perp pulls out of Jon's driveway and takes off.  Jon chases him.  Somehow, the perp loses Jon and Jon doesn't even get a license plate number even though he was parked right behind him!  Again, it is possible that Jon did not anticipate that the perp would not go the speed limit and his plans were foiled.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:17.0pt;color:#666666;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;color:#666666;"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Georgia;font-size:16.0pt;color:#666666;"&gt;Here's the thing, this scenario is my #1 and #2 fantasy.  First, I would love to walk into my home and justly beat the crap and then some out of a perp.  Had the perp entered my home, one of us would not have walked out of said home on his own power.  I like my chances here because I have done tae-bo with Billy Blanks in the past and on the video, he says that I can do anything I put my mind to with hard work.  I also have alot of pent up rage.  Secondly, if for some mind-blowing reason, I move my car for him, there is no way that he is gonna get away without a high-speed chase.  If, in fact, I believe he is going to escape, I will, without hesitation ram his car.  Of course, this is what I would do in the heroic movie theater called my mind.  It's not exactly turning the other cheek, but hey, I don't wear the bracelet either.  Sherri says that she would have liked to see the happen as well because 1) she is tired of hearing me talk about it and 2) she thinks I'm all talk.  All I know is that my "threat level" has been on "red" all week and I am ready for the perp to strike again.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:16.0pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-4285227062813747809?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/4285227062813747809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=4285227062813747809' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/4285227062813747809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/4285227062813747809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2008/09/wwid.html' title='WWID?'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-640345972782599227</id><published>2008-08-30T16:16:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T16:57:40.614-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Bizarro Abraham</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUASxvkb-WY/SLmrqcT03nI/AAAAAAAAABE/bVy2q8thruw/s1600-h/Bizarro.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUASxvkb-WY/SLmrqcT03nI/AAAAAAAAABE/bVy2q8thruw/s400/Bizarro.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240408387064487538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I have posted, in my former blogging life, about my frustration with God and the life I am currently living.  Last week, I came to put a face on the winter, spring, summer, and fall of my discontent.  Through one of those somewhat "difficult" conversation last week, my wise friend helped me move a little closer to understanding why I am the way that I am.  When I went away to college, I thrived and loved the excitement and risk of not knowing everyone and the challenge of doing something away from where I grew up.  At the end of the 4 years, the absolute worst thing that could ever happen would be to move back in with my parents.  Now, I love my parents but the idea of living in my father's house after tasting the excitement of being away was not even an option.  So, I got married and after a year moved a thousand miles away and loved it.  For me, living in the metro Detroit area in the same context that I grew up in is like moving back home after being away.  That's what I can't get around.  It's not the people, not the job, not anything but the feeling that I am not the "man" of the house.  I hope this doesn't come off as arrogant, because I know it sounds questionable.  I don't mean it that way.  It's more of a desire to see if I really am what I think I can be and being here doesn't help that.  I know this is really self-centered and maybe even a little bit of self-pity, but I feel like I finally have a face to my frustration.  I am the Bizarro Abraham.  In Genesis 12, God calls Abram to leave his father's house and go to a far away land where he doesn't know anyone.  I wonder if that was hard for Abram?  Maybe?  If God called me to leave my father's house, I would be out the door.  However, God isn't a God of predictable formulas.  He has, in his infinite wisdom (or at times his unfortunate misstep - at least that how it feels) called me back to my father's house.  Here's the thing, God will never settle for what I want over what He has purposed.  How does this change my attitude and impact my discontent?  Honestly, I don't know.  I know how it should, but "should" and the reality of my behavior and actions often don't coincide.  So I guess I begin with choosing not to settle for what I want either and start putting up with what God has purposed and eventually get to the point of desperately and passionately with all of my being wanting what He gives me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-640345972782599227?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/640345972782599227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=640345972782599227' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/640345972782599227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/640345972782599227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2008/08/bizarro-abraham.html' title='Bizarro Abraham'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUASxvkb-WY/SLmrqcT03nI/AAAAAAAAABE/bVy2q8thruw/s72-c/Bizarro.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-4447820670331508596</id><published>2008-08-29T22:43:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T22:58:47.597-04:00</updated><title type='text'>George Michael... One More Try</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xUASxvkb-WY/SLi2VmfJeTI/AAAAAAAAAA0/zpWAVR_3J9E/s1600-h/George.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xUASxvkb-WY/SLi2VmfJeTI/AAAAAAAAAA0/zpWAVR_3J9E/s200/George.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240138648670271794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe just one more try..."  After a long silence, I think that I am going to take another shot at blogging.  I have been going off on a staggering amount of things lately and I'm not sure if people are interested.  The beauty of blogging is that a.) not many people read my blog and b.) not many people feel the need to comment.  I can talk, talk, talk, talk and no one has to feign interest because you chose to read it.  So, beginning tomorrow, I will start blogging again... until then, who wouldn't want a George Michael ringtone?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-4447820670331508596?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/4447820670331508596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=4447820670331508596' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/4447820670331508596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/4447820670331508596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2008/08/george-michael-one-more-try.html' title='George Michael... One More Try'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xUASxvkb-WY/SLi2VmfJeTI/AAAAAAAAAA0/zpWAVR_3J9E/s72-c/George.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-7203030230950967985</id><published>2007-03-13T15:31:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-13T15:40:38.316-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Chunk meets Jack</title><content type='html'>I loved the Goonies and I love Jack Bauer.  What more could I want?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NYpYKNFdvSQ"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NYpYKNFdvSQ" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-7203030230950967985?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/7203030230950967985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=7203030230950967985' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/7203030230950967985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/7203030230950967985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2007/03/chunk-meets-jack.html' title='Chunk meets Jack'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-5469344865171648808</id><published>2007-03-11T09:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2007-03-11T10:18:42.288-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuff Sickness</title><content type='html'>Sometimes I get sick because of stuff.  Not literally, but my values get thrown off.  Last night we were on the way home from Paige's birthday party (Sherri's sister's 2 year old) and Hannah stated that she felt sick and was going to throw up and next thing we knew, she was puking in the van.  It was all over her clothes, her seat, the floor, the back of Sherri's seat, and then the smell started wafting my way.  Sherri had turned around and was trying to comfort a balling Hannah and I was boiling on the inside.  I was thinking about how much work it would be to get the puke out of the carpet in the van, the likely long night we had ahead of us, and how put out I was because of the stink that was invading my nostrils.  We got home much more quickly than I would have anticipated (someone throwing up in the car tends to encourage one to go slightly over the speed limit), and got Hannah into the bathtub and I began cleaning out the car and throwing stuff away.  As I cleaned I got more upset.  We have a nice van and now there is puke all over it.  As I muttered some choice words under my breath Sherri  came out and we finished cleaning together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, I came to my senses, and I started thinking about how I react in situations where my stuff is wronged.  I get upset because I feel wronged and usually, it's not really that big of deal.  The thing is, I often get confused about my place in this world (slight Michael W. Smith reference, sorry).  I see myself as the owner rather than the steward.  When that happens, the value on that which is in my life becomes skewed.  Suddenly, the van that I own, which is not going to last very long anyway, momentarily displaces my daughter who is infinitely more valuable.  God's design for me is that I am his steward, he is the owner.  Of course I've known this, actually, I've preached this, but in the moment, I forget this. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When things are focused, and I remember my place things change.  I am no longer as concerned about my stuff that I "own."  It becomes about investing in what matters as a steward.  What's more valuable of investment -- the van or Hannah?  Obvious answer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, take two... Last night, as we were coming home from Paige's birthday party, Hannah got sick in the car and threw up all over God's van.  We raced home and got Hannah cleaned up and then Sherri and I, as God's stewards, cleaned up His van.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-5469344865171648808?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/5469344865171648808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=5469344865171648808' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/5469344865171648808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/5469344865171648808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2007/03/stuff-sickness.html' title='Stuff Sickness'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-1101801350631781904</id><published>2007-03-06T13:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-06T14:20:03.037-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Funny that Sticks</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUASxvkb-WY/Re26u8dCB5I/AAAAAAAAAAY/ud-MeOUKIsw/s1600-h/made+to+stick.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038888873762097042" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUASxvkb-WY/Re26u8dCB5I/AAAAAAAAAAY/ud-MeOUKIsw/s320/made+to+stick.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I recently finished a new book called Made to Stick. It's written be brothers who wanted to explain why some things are memorable and some things are not. The great thing about this book is that it will help anyone who likes to or needs to communicate a message. It was a fun book to listen to and easily kept my attention. Some great stories and the principles are easy to catch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of sticky, on Sunday night we went with our friends, Lemkes and Gambees, to see Jim Gaffigan in&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xUASxvkb-WY/Re28RMdCB6I/AAAAAAAAAAg/DEvf-dkpKE4/s1600-h/gaffigan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038890561684244386" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xUASxvkb-WY/Re28RMdCB6I/AAAAAAAAAAg/DEvf-dkpKE4/s200/gaffigan.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Saginaw. If you have never heard him before, you must... I think he is the funniest man in the universe. I literally laughed for about an hour and a half... my stomach muscles are still a little sore from laughing! I love Jim Gaffigan! So, watching Gaffigan was not only entertaining, but make me think about preaching. As I looked on stage, all I saw was a stool, a water bottle, and a mic on a mic stand. That's it. And then I laughed for the next 90 minutes. He had me at "hello". Think of the average church service and message, how long does the pastor preach... 25 minutes, 40 minutes, an hour? And how much of that message are you actually listening to? Did he have you at "hello" or did he ever have you at all? What if pastors only had a stool and a mic? Would churches be empty? It seems that the message of Jesus and growth in Him is infinitely more important than a brilliant comedy routine. I went to Gaffigan expecting to laugh out loud. Is is any different to go to church expecting to be challenged and captivated by what the pastor shares regardless of his visuals and set-up? It may not be as black and white as this, but I do think that there is something of value here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-1101801350631781904?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/1101801350631781904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=1101801350631781904' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/1101801350631781904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/1101801350631781904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2007/03/funny-that-sticks.html' title='Funny that Sticks'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xUASxvkb-WY/Re26u8dCB5I/AAAAAAAAAAY/ud-MeOUKIsw/s72-c/made+to+stick.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-5095394030474684886</id><published>2007-03-01T18:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-03-01T18:55:17.506-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Jamaica!</title><content type='html'>Well, Sherri and I just got back from Jamaica. We took 27 students from Southfield Christian (where I work) and 4 adults and spent a week working and serving children in orphanages and schools. I, not being big on children other than my own, was challenged just being there. If you want to see some video of what we did, you can check out cjwebber.blogspot.com. Chris is one of my students and friends who shot some video of our trip. We also shot our own version of a nooma (teaching videos made by Rob Bell). Hopefully, we can get it uploaded to the net and my blog. It is pretty funny and my one attempt of seeming like I am important.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-5095394030474684886?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/5095394030474684886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=5095394030474684886' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/5095394030474684886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/5095394030474684886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2007/03/jamaica.html' title='Jamaica!'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-2870570172457175467</id><published>2007-02-07T19:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-02-07T20:18:48.297-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Joshua, A Coming of Age Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xUASxvkb-WY/Rcp6ey6-3lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/PPLYqwsWGxA/s1600-h/2006-12-03+G+Tree+Hunting.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xUASxvkb-WY/Rcp6ey6-3lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/PPLYqwsWGxA/s320/2006-12-03+G+Tree+Hunting.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5028966603396406866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I have not blogged for a while and I doubt that anyone checks this anymore but there are moments in life that necessitate the sharing of stories.  Warning, this is not a story for those faint of heart....  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh will be turning 3 in about a week.  He is at that point where he is becoming more and more aware of himself.  So, the other evening as I was getting him into his diaper (he still does diapers through the night) he chose to inform me of something very important in his little world.  He was naked and I laid him down to fasten the diaper on his body when he grabbed his "person" and proclaimed to me, "I like playing with mine balls."  Sometimes all you can do is laugh out loud and believe that things will not get more complicated.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-2870570172457175467?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/2870570172457175467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=2870570172457175467' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/2870570172457175467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/2870570172457175467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2007/02/joshua-coming-of-age-story.html' title='Joshua, A Coming of Age Story'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xUASxvkb-WY/Rcp6ey6-3lI/AAAAAAAAAAM/PPLYqwsWGxA/s72-c/2006-12-03+G+Tree+Hunting.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-116507404566335669</id><published>2006-12-02T10:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-12-02T16:28:46.949-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Have Issues</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 0);font-size:130%;" &gt;"What is God's will for my life?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bruce Waltke says that is the wrong question.  I'm in a discipleship group and we are working through his book, Finding the Will of God.  His approach is atypical to much of what's out there.  One of the things that struck me is that I typically read the Bible to enjoy the stories, get the principles, and  teach others.  The question Waltke asks is, "Are you impassioned with finding God's heart as you interact with His word?"  As I thought about that, the norm for me is reading in order to teach and communicate with others - not wrong, but it is easy for me to ignore the part about finding God's heart.  So, basically, he says that asking what God's will is for your life is not the question, God's will is easy to follow if your heart is continuously confronted with God's heart and the two begin to beat together.  When that happens, decisions come easy because your life lines up with God's desires and will.  He even gives steps that we need to follow to bring our hearts into line with God's:  Reading the Bible, developing a heart for God, seeking wise counsel, looking for God's providence, does it make sense, and divine intervention.  He sees the first, reading the Bible, as the foundation and most important by far.  Anyway, I read the chapter on providence last week and decided that I hated it because it hits too close to home for me.  He says,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There will be times you believe the Word of God is leading you to do something, it becomes the desire of your heart, and other Christians encourage you to follow your heart, but providence will not allow it.  Assume that god has something else planned.  Learn to trust God in spite of your circumstances."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever been somewhere and everything seems right but that silly providence screws everything up?  I hate that.  As much as I have accepted where I am right now, I still struggle with not being where I desperately want to be.  Now, thanks to Waltke, I have a name to blame for my frustration - Providence.  And what it comes down to for me is the issue of trust.  I know that God has a plan and that He is good.  My issue is whether or not His plan has been endorsed by me.  Being a pastor in a church is not unbiblical, it's the desire of my heart, and other believers and seekers encourage me to pursue that end but that dammed providence keeps all of this just out of reach.  And in saying "dammed providence", I really am saying that if that is what you want God, then take it back and let me pursue my dreams!  Do I really trust that God is going to do what is best?  When everything seems like it is not on schedule and I see little to no hope, do I trust God?  Part of trust is letting go of your own image.  We are created in God's image and then we spend the rest of our lives trying to create our image.  What I think I want to be comes colliding with what God wants to do.  Perhaps eventually, I will look back in hindsight and say, "Oh, yes, now I understand what God was doing."  Until then, I have to trust and live in that tension of passionately living life by striving for goals and getting out of the way of what God is doing whether that may or may not look like much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-116507404566335669?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/116507404566335669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=116507404566335669' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/116507404566335669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/116507404566335669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/12/its-issure-of-trust.html' title='I Have Issues'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-116420525694025007</id><published>2006-11-22T09:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-25T20:25:07.653-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Afraid of Form</title><content type='html'>I have a friend who just bought his first house.  He and his wife are excitedly stocking the house with furniture, appliances, and rooms full of love.  I am really happy for them but I do have a concern and that is this... What kind of house did they buy?  I mean, is it a ranch, a bungalow, a colonial, or a Tudor?  Is it one of those cookie cutter houses in the suburbs or is it a house we describe as having lots of character which really means that it will suck all the savings you will ever have?  See, here's the thing, I am comfortable in only a few types of houses.  I live in a typical 1980's Michigan colonial.  Sherri is partial to vinyl-sided ranches with the garage on the side so that’s not the first thing you see.  I like houses with alot of stone.  Anything else is suspect and I'm not sure that I can really hang out with anyone not in a house that is in the style of the three mentioned previously.  I once knew someone who lived in a Tudor--they were jerks.  Therefore, I don't like Tudors because they house mean people.  I do like vinyl-sided ranch houses because that was the first house I ever bought.  I'm pretty sure only good people live in those.  It's funny how I'm not concerned about the materials in the house, just the style.  Asbestos?  Lead based paint?  Cat urine in every corner?  That's fine as long as the form of the house is to my liking.  Surely I am insane!  This is not for real, is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, rather than talking about houses, lets talk about churches.  Instead of the style of a house, let’s talk about the form of church.  There are traditional, orthodox, charismatic, emerging, modern, post-modern, contemporary, and mega churches.  These are all forms.  The interesting thing is that some of us are afraid of the very mention of one or more of these forms.  "I hate traditional churches because they are boring and the typical pastor doesn't even try to be relevant."  "I think that post-modern churches are of the devil.  I don't even think those pastors know who Jesus is!"  I got into a conversation with someone who wanted to learn more about this thing called the emerging church as if it was some import from Japan.  So, I gave him a few books and he is on his way to enlightenment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the very bottom of everything, I am not so sure that traditional, postmodern, contemporary, emerging, or modern is something that really matters.  It's just form.  The only real churches are the churches whose content and raw material is reflective of the Jesus who is revealed in God's Word.  If a church is has that, then the form must take whatever will best reach the immediate community where it serves.  I don't care what "form" that is because it becomes meaningless if no one is being connected to Jesus through it... and it would be nice if there was a steeple, because that's how a church is supposed to look.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-116420525694025007?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/116420525694025007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=116420525694025007' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/116420525694025007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/116420525694025007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/11/afraid-of-form.html' title='Afraid of Form'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-116360456701129048</id><published>2006-11-15T10:28:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-15T10:57:46.596-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Things I Need On The Go</title><content type='html'>This past weekend, I spoke at a youth retreat in Xenia, OH.  I took with me a friend, Chris, and we had a great time.  On Saturday night, we had one of the best experiences of my life while we were searching to fill his craving for an Arizona Arnold Palmer Tea.  Picture this, it's 10:30 at night and Bright Eyes is blaring through the speakers.  The air is crisp and cool as winter peaks its head around the corner.  We stop at Fulmers grocery store and find nothing but questioning stares mainly because Chris wears tight jeans, a shirt, and a scarf - not exactly the trend in clothing in Xenia (unfortunately Chris does not have a camouflaged scarf which would have built a bridge with the locals).  We stopped at a convenience store/gas station and still nothing.  After about 5 stops, one of which I picked up a box of 6 day old cream filled chocolate iced Krispy Kream doughnuts (by the way, bad idea to eat 3 with a Mt. Dew), we found the holy grail of beverage stores.  As we turned the corner, there it was, as if a shaft of light was illuminating the entire lot.  We had stumbled upon a drive through liquor store.  It was a narrow building with a garage door on either side.  We drove in and lowered our window as a man came up and asked us what we wanted.  Chris asked for a Palmer and the man went to the cooler.  Unfortunately, he came up empty and we were out of luck.  But nothing could taint our experience.  I drove out the other end the store and felt satisfied because I had just experienced the next evolutionary stage of convenience - beer on the go!  Doesn't it just make sense?  Imagine, I'm in a hurry, running late and I need something to drink.  What can be done?  Good news, just drive through the local drive-thru liquer store and get a cold one to go!  Finally, a drive-thru liquor store is exactly what the modern drunk-on-the-go needs.  Thank you America!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-116360456701129048?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/116360456701129048/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=116360456701129048' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/116360456701129048'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/116360456701129048'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/11/things-i-need-on-go.html' title='Things I Need On The Go'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-116309224938105015</id><published>2006-11-09T12:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-10T00:20:35.260-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Winds of Change</title><content type='html'>There are alot of happy people and alot of unhappy people this week. In fact, many of the happy people have traded places with the unhappy people. Yet, there are also alot of life goes on people who care little to none. What the heck am I talking about? Decision 2006, of course. I voted. Motivated hugely to get the politicians to stop bombarding me with commercials and phone calls. I hate elections. However, based on recent conversations, I have some thoughts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is time for change, and I am not talking about political change. I am talking about a change in how those who follow Christ engage the rest of society. There are places where the terms Republican and Christian are synonymous. There are also places (fewer but growing) where it is unbelievable that a Christian would not be a Democrat. I am pretty sure that the boat has been missed on both accounts. The Religious Right is an oxymoron, because the religious are rarely right (right applies more to Jesus than an establishment) and by definition, Christianity is not inclusive (yes, you have to make a radical decision to dedicate yourself to the values and agenda of One who makes the absolutes and there is no such thing as tolerance in that arena). I guess I frankly don't care how you vote, given, your decisions will have consequences, but holding a political platform up in one hand and a Bible in the other is a horrible idea. Why would I ever consider placing a sign in my front yard supporting a candidate that may close a door with a neighbor or a passerby? Guess what, both Republicans and Democrats (and anyone else for that matter) need Jesus. Funny how Jesus himself hung out with tax collectors (who were seen as having turned their backs on both Yahweh and Israel) and didn't make a big deal about politics. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think its time the church stopped letting politicians "preach" in church on Sundays close to the election and I think that the church has to stop fulfilling its desire to have power by making political alliances. Things look similar to the Roman Catholic Church before the Reformation. I don't agree with the contemporary interpretation of separation of church and state. Kids have every right to say God and pray in schools. The problem is that the church is not affiliated with a political party, it is radically and completely devoted and sold out to Jesus Christ and I guarantee that Jesus Christ is not wearing a tee-shirt with a donkey or an elephant! If Jesus is wearing a tee-shirt, it probably has a sad face with a tear running down its cheek (perhaps similar to the sad Indian in the old anti-pollution commercial) because of how his bride parades herself around waiting to be wooed by whoever can use the right lingo. I guess I am at the point that if I hear one more person use Republican/Democrat as a foundational characteristic of someone who is going to heaven then I am going to pee on their bumper stickers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-116309224938105015?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/116309224938105015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=116309224938105015' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/116309224938105015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/116309224938105015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/11/winds-of-change.html' title='The Winds of Change'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-116278653436966384</id><published>2006-11-05T22:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-08T18:06:35.690-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Quote of the Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/1600/GreenStreetHooligans-4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/400/GreenStreetHooligans-4.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend, Sherri was gone on a retreat so I was at home with the children.  What exactly does that mean?  It means I cared for them during the day, put them to bed early, and I watched movies all night!  One of the movies I watched was Green Street Hooligans, a movie recommended by some of my students.  It does have a decent amount of violence and language (there's my disclaimer so I can't get in trouble).  Anyway, Elijah Wood plays a young man about to graduate from Harvard who gets wrongly kicked out and moves to England to see his sister.  Long story short, he gets involved with a British style, European soccer groupie fight club.  As he becomes one of the guys, he does the voice-over narrator thing about half way through the movie and says something that leveled me.  In reference to being part of the GSE (green street elite), he says, &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;"It's not knowing that your friends have your back, it's knowing that you have your friends back."   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;font&gt;This is the difference between being a consumer and being missional (okay, yes, everything I hear and see goes through a "church" filter).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so you think I'm spiritualizing this?  Hear me out... When I want to be assured that someone has my back, all I am thinking about is me.  My chief concern is me.  It's not about them, it's about me.  "You watch out for me."  It's like I am sucking the life out of the people around me.  I want them to defend and care for and think of me first.  While that may make me feel good, it doesn't make me a good person.  I do want to know that someone has my back, but I what is more important is that I have their back.  It's the difference between giving and receiving.  I want to live my life in a way where people see me as someone who will get their back, not as someone who's back needs to be gotten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-116278653436966384?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/116278653436966384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=116278653436966384' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/116278653436966384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/116278653436966384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/11/quote-of-day.html' title='Quote of the Day'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-116235439167744106</id><published>2006-10-31T22:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2006-11-01T06:57:46.406-05:00</updated><title type='text'>iTunes &amp; Bikers</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/1600/10312006%28002%29.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/320/10312006%28002%29.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/1600/DSC06080.2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/320/DSC06080.1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a great day.  First off, and ultimately less important, I am now on iTunes.  If you go to iTunes and search for the Shiloh podcast, you will find a message I preached on Nehemiah chapter one (that is if you care to listen to it). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to the amazing, emotional, sobering event of the day.  A former student of the school I work at was killed in Iraq recently and the funeral was held at the church today.  Obviously, this day was not easy for the family and friends of this young man.  The funeral was very meaningful and everything went as well as could be expected.  Before the funeral, I walked outside and was shocked to see about 50 bikers standing like sentinels around the building.  They were all dressed in their leather gear and each one was holding an American flag.  This is a group of bikers who attend military funerals in the area, they had no connection with the family or anyone at the church.  There is a group of freakshows who travel around and protest at military funerals shouting horrible things at family members.  I don't know if you have heard of these people but I'm not sure what I would do if I came into contact with one of them.  Anyway, these bikers have taken it upon themselves to "stand guard" around military funerals.  I was talking to one of the guys, thanking him for what he was doing and he responded with, "It is the least we can do for those who are giving their lives for our freedom."  After that, I watched as Marines in full dress shook hands with these bikers thanking them for their encouragement and support... and I lost it.  Words cannot express the emotion that welled up as I watched a group of strangers making their stand in support of a family that had suffered a terrible loss.  Today, I was reminded that people do amazing things.  Things that are unselfish, things that put others before them, and things that give us glimpses of who God created us to be.  Today I was proud to be an American (now cut to black and start the music)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-116235439167744106?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/116235439167744106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=116235439167744106' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/116235439167744106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/116235439167744106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/10/itunes-bikers.html' title='iTunes &amp; Bikers'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-116183237108412516</id><published>2006-10-25T23:08:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-10-25T23:16:20.356-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Baaaack...</title><content type='html'>What is it that could be so compelling to bring me back to blogging?  A video that I can't help but share with the small handful of people who read (or more appropriately used to read) my blog.  A friend showed me this video tonight and I am now equipped to worship God as he has created me to.  Enjoy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/tpLfgqUBJyo"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="wmode" value="transparent"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/tpLfgqUBJyo" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-116183237108412516?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/116183237108412516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=116183237108412516' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/116183237108412516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/116183237108412516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/10/im-baaaack.html' title='I&apos;m Baaaack...'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-115876853398028843</id><published>2006-09-20T11:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-20T14:33:15.960-04:00</updated><title type='text'>It Can't be Me</title><content type='html'>As I sit here in my very messy office, listening to Sufjan Stevens I am reflecting on the possibility that I might be the problem. This morning I finished reading Patrick Lencioni's Five Dysfunctions of a Team: A Leadership Fable. It's one of those books that almost everyone involved in leadership or on a team of any kind talks like they read it but in reality they've only heard other people talk about it (I was one of those people until this morning). I think everyone who is not a monk with a vow of silence should read (or listen to) it. It is entertaining, thought provoking, challenging. I laughed, I cried... anyway, it did get me thinking about the 5 dysfunctions: 1)Absence of Trust, 2) Fear of Conflict, 3) Lack of Commitment, 4) Avoidance of Accountability, and 5) Inattention to Results. I am pretty sure that I have never actually been on a healthy team. Regardless of the venue (church, school, work, and even individual relationships) there is a struggle to follow through on any one of these areas. Sherri and I had a conversation recently and dysfunction number 2 came up. My comment was that anyone who is not willing to tow the line of a healthy team cannot live in my house. She ignored me because she knows how I get with an exciting new idea. Anyway, the question I am wrestling with is this, if I have been on teams that are heavy laiden with these dysfunctions, am I the reason? As much as I can identify with the hero in the story, I think I am much more like the dysfunctional teammates.  Hopefully that feeling will go away because it just can't be me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-115876853398028843?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/115876853398028843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=115876853398028843' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115876853398028843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115876853398028843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/09/it-cant-be-me.html' title='It Can&apos;t be Me'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-115860586743573906</id><published>2006-09-18T14:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-09-18T14:57:47.453-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Who Peed?</title><content type='html'>Ok, so I haven't been doing any updating lately.  Sorry.  The other morning, Sherri and I are in bed, not quite awake yet.  Now, understand that we have been having allergies lately and you know how that goes sleeping with your mouth open so you can breathe.  Josh walks in and climbs into bed with us...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Seeing the drool on the pillow)&lt;br /&gt;Josh:  Mommy pee on pillow?&lt;br /&gt;Mommy:  No, Josh, I did not pee on my pillow.&lt;br /&gt;Josh:  Mommy peed on pillow?&lt;br /&gt;Mommy:  No, Josh, mommy did not pee on her pillow.&lt;br /&gt;(Mommy gets out of bed to get ready for the day)&lt;br /&gt;Josh:  Daddy, you pee mommy's pillow?&lt;br /&gt;Daddy:  (while laughing) No, daddy did not pee on mommy's pillow.&lt;br /&gt;Josh:  I no pee mommy's pillow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love mornings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-115860586743573906?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/115860586743573906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=115860586743573906' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115860586743573906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115860586743573906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/09/who-peed.html' title='Who Peed?'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-115673188393794190</id><published>2006-08-27T21:20:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-27T22:24:43.993-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Waving the White Flag</title><content type='html'>Today I preached to 4 adults and 1 child.  Afterwards, I talked to Joe (it took me a while to find him in the crowd).  The congregation (the five there and one more who would meet them later along with the denominational guy in charge) met today to decide the future of the church.  After talking to the really old woman for about 10 minutes (conversation consisting of, "You remind me of my grandson.  That's why I like you.  My daughter wants me to move down south.  It's were I belong."  Repeat exact conversation 5 times), I got to Joe.  With tears in his eyes, he said that there really is not much of a decision to be made.  The church can't survive.  I am not sure how much longer they are going to hang on, but I will stick with them to the end.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have always felt that if a church is not moving people into a deeper relationship with Christ and effectively reaching its community then it needs to seriously consider whether or not it should continue.  I think alot of pastors do not have a calling on their lives and they are either relieved that they made it through another day or fake it successfully.  It would not be a bad think for many churched to close their doors for the last time.  However, as I have watched Joe and talked to the other 4-5 people at this little church, I have seen the other side.  I still believe that we have to be thoughtful of how we fit into the greater kingdom scope, but people who have served faithfully in a church all their lives have a difficult time letting go.  There is so much emotion and hurt in considering closing down a church.  Let's be honest, who is going to be there at the bitter end?  The ones who have been there for almost as long as they have been alive.  This church is closing; there is no way around that.  It is a good thing it is closing; it's not right for them to continue this way.  What they need is love and compassion.  And I am just the guy for the job (to be read with great sarcasm).  I am not the most sensitive person when it comes to this.  Why God has put me in this position suggests an oversight on His part (ok, maybe he sees more of the picture than me).  Honestly, I think he put me there for that very reason - to see the reality of what many churches face and how to go about doing the right thing in a way that is full of grace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-115673188393794190?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/115673188393794190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=115673188393794190' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115673188393794190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115673188393794190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/08/waving-white-flag.html' title='Waving the White Flag'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-115664542237006904</id><published>2006-08-26T21:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-26T22:23:42.416-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Catching Toads</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/1600/toad.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/320/toad.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How do my girls catch toads?  With butterfly nets of course!  This morning, Allison and Hannah brought me a toad in their butterfly net.  They didn't want to touch the toads so they improvised.  Hannah thought it was hilarious when the toad tried climbing up the side of the net and then fell back down.  They captured four toads and spent the rest of the day catching bugs, spiders, and flies.  We looked for information on the internet as to what they typically eat and found that one toad can eat up to 1000 bugs a day.  Sherri told them to get busy because they needed to find 4000 bugs in order to keep the toads in their small cage.  The good news for any PETA members is that the girls were convinced to participate in a catch and release program.  As far as I know, the toads have been set free.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-115664542237006904?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/115664542237006904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=115664542237006904' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115664542237006904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115664542237006904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/08/catching-toads.html' title='Catching Toads'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-115595488883655490</id><published>2006-08-18T21:58:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-18T23:14:40.600-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tony Danza (aka #@$%&amp; Pt. 2)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/1600/Tony_Danza-300x380.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/200/Tony_Danza-300x380.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Been thinking about the whole "God damn it" is comparable to "God take this back 'cause I don't want it" idea.  I don't know anyone who saunters through life with the, nothin' but blue skies I can see clearly now the rain is gone attitude (shout out to Geoff Moore, you know, Beth's husband).  I do know people who don't understand what is going on in their lives and they make choices about how to deal with that confusion.  I am sure there are a plethora of ways people choose to respond but here are a few...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;God doesn't exist&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;God exists but doesn't care&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;God exists and is vindictive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;God exists and is good&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;God exists but does not consult me on future plans thus he is more concerned about his plans than my plans  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;I believe the first three are ruled out.  The fourth is the right answer but not always (in fact often not) the perceived reality.  The last one seems to be the most accurate description of my experience and I also think that there is much truth in it (although simplified).  So looking at number 5, I see two responses.  First, acceptance and trust that he really does know more than me and that he has my best in mind based on an eternal perspective.  The second and more natural response is like returning a gift you received for your birthday.  I really don't want this, it doesn't fit me, I'd rather have the money, I want a different color, etc.  Essentially we reject the "gift."  Not long ago, I got a gift from someone (who shall remain anonymous) and I acted like a child throwing a fit.  Why?  Because I already had one and it wasn't what I wanted.  I was angry that someone would be so insensitive to give me something that they thought I should have rather than something that was within their power to give that  I wanted.  You can even ask Sherri (but please don't because she doesn't need to be reminded how immature I can be) how incredibly angry and stupid I was.  What's the point?  God gives us what he believes we should have rather than what we want even though it is within his authority to give us exactly what we want.  When God does this, my default setting is, "I don't want it, take it back" (the kinder more gentler why of saying, "God, damn it").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 102, 51); font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"&gt;My epiphany:&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;When I respond with, "I don't want it, take it back" it is no different than taking God's name in vain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the question I have to ask when we get down to the very bottom of everything, in the word's of Tony Danza is, "Who's the boss?"  If I can humble myself for just a second, then I can acknowledge that he really does know more than me and does have my best in mind perceived through the eyes of eternity.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-115595488883655490?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/115595488883655490/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=115595488883655490' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115595488883655490'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115595488883655490'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/08/tony-danza-aka-pt-2.html' title='Tony Danza (aka #@$%&amp; Pt. 2)'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-115578156574641442</id><published>2006-08-16T21:06:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-16T22:26:05.886-04:00</updated><title type='text'>#@$%&amp;</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/1600/enigma%20anger.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/320/enigma%20anger.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thou shalt not take the Lord thy God's name in vain."  But don't you want to sometimes?  Like when you are driving anywhere in the Metro Detroit area.  I concluded just this morning that almost everyone on the road is out to get me and it stems from the fact that I am an excellent driver and they are not.  Going from point A to point B should not be that frustrating!  So I have been wondering why I get so frustrated and angry with people and situations.  I am reading The Enigma of Anger by Garret Keizer.  This is one angry man who is very insightful about the different sides of anger.  Anyway, he talks about the exclamation, "God damn it."  Here is what he says...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But with those angry words we move to another level of religious meaning.  The angry person who invokes the name of God is acknowledging that the source of his frustration runs contrary to an expectation of divine benevolence.  In other words, the world ought to work better.  There ought to be figs on this tree.  There ought to be some force, some angel, that prevents hammers from accidentally crushing thumbs.  At the very least, it insists that the source of our frustration is within the control of a greater power - and a good one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keizer has penned exactly what I feel.  When I get frustrated and things are not as they should be, I respond with an acknowledgement of God rather than wondering if He is even there.  However, my acknowledgement of God is that if this is the way things work, then he can take those things back because I don't want them.  It struck me that I go off because I don't like the way things are and I have higher expectations of my experiences, that I deserve better.  It's like I feel entitled to a life of everything working out my way and when it doesn't, "God, damn it, because I don't want it."  I'm like the child who screams at his mother, "You don't love me!" yet at the same time knowing the opposite is likely true and desperate for any attention he can get from the mother he is yelling at.  A line in the song, Sweet Rose, by Matt Costa goes, "I'd like to say no one always gets their way."  Simple, true, and annoying.  I think sometimes the struggles of life are boiled down to checking yourself in those moments when you don't get your way and then you realize how truly immature you really are.  The reality for me, is that I have no right to damn anything because I am not above it in the first place.  So tomorrow, on my drive to school, I am going to acknowledge that God has "blessed" my trip by allowing me to experience its cussed existence.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-115578156574641442?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/115578156574641442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=115578156574641442' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115578156574641442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115578156574641442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/08/blog-post.html' title='#@$%&amp;'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-115557454345681139</id><published>2006-08-14T12:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-14T12:55:43.466-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Chad Vader</title><content type='html'>I found these on a friends blog.  Brilliant.  Enjoy.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/4wGR4-SeuJ0"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/4wGR4-SeuJ0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/NPVlljVWqBg"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/NPVlljVWqBg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="425" height="350"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-115557454345681139?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/115557454345681139/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=115557454345681139' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115557454345681139'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115557454345681139'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/08/chad-vader.html' title='Chad Vader'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-115552533870539096</id><published>2006-08-13T22:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-13T23:15:38.716-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Where to Draw the Line</title><content type='html'>Lately I have been filling the pulpit at a church on Sunday mornings.  It is a church that is dying, both figuratively and literally.  I went into this knowing only that it was a small church unable to support a full time pastor so I really didn't know what to expect.  On a good day, I preach to 12 people including women and children (actually, there is only one other male other than me and he is in his mid 70's).  Their plan is to disband in the next few months and they would like me to stick with them until they do so.  So, today I got to church and Joe said that he was sorry and that only one of the 5 main regulars was going to show up and even she was questionable (they had various reasons that were relatively legit).  Joe barely got the sentence out without breaking down.  Joe was born into that church and has been serving faithfully throughout his whole life.  Anyway, the one other elderly woman showed up and then one more.  Joe said to me, Aileen, and Dorthy that I shouldn't waste my  sermon on just the three of them and wait til next week for the rest of the crew.  Here's what I've been thinking about all day... How few is too few and is there such a thing as a "wasted" sermon on anyone?  I know the simplistic answer, when two or three are gathered... but I am looking for something deeper.  I have friends who feel that preaching to a small handful of dying people is crazy and wouldn't do it, possibly legitimately so.  Most everything inside me says that these people, regardless of how painful it might be, need to call it a day and throw in the towel now.  However, there is one little part of me that wonders if I (or we) tend to dismiss people and churches like this out of pride and arrogance.  Honestly, isn't it a waste of time and giftedness?  Shouldn't someone like me be preaching to at least an average sized church?  I have preached in a church of 2000, today, it was a church of about two (and I didn't end up preaching at all, which worked out because Joe said with great sadness that he couldn't pay me this week anyway on account of a large gas bill and an insurance payment).  In the midst of growth strategy and mega-churches, have we become calloused to the least of these?  Where is the line between pride and good stewardship with the resources God entrusts us (not to mention this churches limited resources)?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-115552533870539096?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/115552533870539096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=115552533870539096' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115552533870539096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115552533870539096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/08/where-to-draw-line.html' title='Where to Draw the Line'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-115521712487874422</id><published>2006-08-10T09:27:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-10T09:38:44.903-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Dancing Queen</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/1600/show%20002.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/320/show%20002.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes you go out for a show and sometimes you stay in for a show.  Last night we had some friends over, ate dinner, and then just hung out and talked.  At one point during the evening, Hannah came into the family room and served us fruit snacks out of a bowl.  It is so nice to see her practicing for her career at Hooters.  Allison put in her Sheryl Crow CD and then proceeded to sing and dance to Soak up the Sun.  This is when Josh entered wearing the attractive yet casual pink tutu.  I kind of think he looks a little like Julie Andrews in his ballet outfit.  Unfortunately, pictures cannot do justice to his performance.  He was spinning wildly throughout the entire song and every so often stumbled and fell into various objects (I wasn't sure if he was drunk or had a stroke).  Every time he fell, he got up and said, "I ok mommy."  We laughed till tears were flowing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-115521712487874422?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/115521712487874422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=115521712487874422' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115521712487874422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115521712487874422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/08/dancing-queen.html' title='Dancing Queen'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-115474806452089709</id><published>2006-08-04T23:09:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-08-04T23:21:04.546-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Story in Pictures</title><content type='html'>Just got back from our westward-ho.  I thought I'd post a few pictures of our trip.  My thoughts will follow at a later date (if any of these confuse you or you have questions, go ahead and ask me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/1600/P1010096.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/200/P1010096.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/1600/P1010067.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/200/P1010067.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/1600/P1010190.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/200/P1010190.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/1600/P1010193.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/200/P1010193.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/1600/P1010194.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/200/P1010194.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-115474806452089709?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/115474806452089709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=115474806452089709' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115474806452089709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115474806452089709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/08/story-in-pictures.html' title='A Story in Pictures'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-115371262965421747</id><published>2006-07-23T23:37:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-23T23:44:31.243-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Vacation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/1600/07%20Mt%20Rushmore.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/320/07%20Mt%20Rushmore.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So tomorrow we leave to visit our old stomping grounds.  We have not been back to South Dakota for exactly 2 years (we moved to Michigan the end of July 2004).  We are pretty excited to see friends and play in the Black Hills.  After we visit SD, we are going to visit Herb and Cara in Denver.  The van is packed, the kids are asleep, and we are ready to go.  Good night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-115371262965421747?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/115371262965421747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=115371262965421747' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115371262965421747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115371262965421747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/07/summer-vacation.html' title='Summer Vacation'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-115310714734860691</id><published>2006-07-16T23:22:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-16T23:33:34.806-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I could reconfigure these protocols faster if you would just get out of my face!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/1600/Chloe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/320/Chloe.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight we went out with our friends, Chris and Lisa.  Chris works for Homeland Security and was getting calls all evening because he is on duty.  I'm pretty sure it was all national security stuff.  Anyway, when we got to their house, they gave me a gift they picked up 4 months ago.  You guessed it, a signed picture of Chloe!  Apparently, she grew up in Trenton and Chris' friend's church was having an auction.  Chloe's godmother goes there and got an autographed picture donated from her.   Chris and Lisa saw it and thought of me.  God bless them.  There is only one thing that vexes me.  Since when does Chloe sign her name and put a heart over it?  That is so not Chloe!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-115310714734860691?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/115310714734860691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=115310714734860691' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115310714734860691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115310714734860691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/07/i-could-reconfigure-these-protocols.html' title='I could reconfigure these protocols faster if you would just get out of my face!'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-115302163448678380</id><published>2006-07-15T22:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-16T09:46:21.810-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Return of the Prodigal Son</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/1600/prodig2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/320/prodig2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is one of my favorite paintings.  I also love the book by Henri Nowen.  Of course, they both exist because of Jesus' parable in the gospel of Luke.  I love the passion of the Father for his lost son, I love the struggle towards maturity of the rebel son, and I love the lessons about life that this story teaches us.  However, if I could change one part of this story, it would be the element of the older son, the good one, the one who obeys and honors his father.  It's unfortunate that he gets overshadowed by the snotty young rebel.  It's frustrating that there is not more focus on his remarkable character.  It's just simply wrong that he gets shafted for doing what's expected.  He even tries to defend himself and set things right in his Father's house only to be lectured and shafted yet again.  Honestly, he's kind of a loser.  He whines because he is not treated the way he thinks he deserves.  He has an aire that he is better than his brother, even to the point that he tells his Father how to parent.  He, in all reality, has a pretty good life, but all he can do is look at what he doesn't have and in turn demeans whatever good is happening around him because of where he is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What am I rambling on about?  Well, ever since I read Nowen's book, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Return of the Prodigal Son&lt;/span&gt; (about 8 years ago), I have struggled with the realization that I am very much like the older brother.  That reality has never been more obvious than it is currently in my life.  I recently have been struggling with the way I perceive my Heavenly Father is treating me.  Almost to a tee, I have felt the feelings that the older son likely experienced.  I can think of a thousand reasons why it is my right to feel this way, but it boils down to this, I am more in love with what I want to do than with whom I am doing it for.  Let me explain... no, too much, let me sum up.  I want to be a pastor - it's what I feel and many around me feel I was created for.  Seeing that I am not makes me miserable and not much fun to live with because I feel shafted.  I am getting old and in my limited view, I am going nowhere fast.  My response is to be angry with God while at the same time obediently following him wherever he leads.  Angry obedience - obedience with an attitude, an attitude that says, "Look at how faithful I am even when you are a jerk.  See how good I am?  See what great sacrifices I am making?  You should notice me."  That may be obedience in the letter of the law, but not the spirit.  I am more passionate about "being a pastor" than being with Jesus.  I HATE THE OLDER BROTHER!  I wish he'd just get out of my mirror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is really no resolution with the older son in the story.  The Father invites him in to celebrate and join authentic community and then walks away leaving the older son to make the decision.  What does he decide?  I hope he went in.  But I'm not sure that he did.  It is easier to stay outside because if he goes in, he admits that everyone else was right and that there is purpose and meaning in his life.  It means that &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;he&lt;/span&gt; has been the jerk.  Over the last few weeks, I have had lots of encouragement and significant conversations with friends.  There has been a resounding theme to the content.  The theme is that they are happy that I am where I am because of what God has done and is doing through me.  In my favorite words of Jack Bauer, "Dammit."  Not expressed in a bad way, but in a giving in and letting go way.  In the same way that the older son would have entered the house and joined the festivities with a sigh of relief that he can stop trying so hard to be right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been willing to stay outside in hopes of getting what I want rather than going inside to simply be with the One whom this is all about.  It's time for me to go inside.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-115302163448678380?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/115302163448678380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=115302163448678380' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115302163448678380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115302163448678380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/07/return-of-prodigal-son.html' title='The Return of the Prodigal Son'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-115283996625104383</id><published>2006-07-13T21:11:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-13T21:19:26.263-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My Padawan Learner</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/1600/July%2006%20009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/200/July%2006%20009.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/1600/July%2006%20007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/200/July%2006%20007.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/1600/July%2006%20008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/200/July%2006%20008.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that Josh has symbolically taken down his first chipmunk, I though warrior should be added to the titles of hunter and gatherer.  So, Sherri and I went out and bought light sabers for training purposes.  This week, Sherri's sister and her two girls are staying with us because Aaron is on a mission's trip.  Allison, Hannah, and Grace (Sherri's niece) are at day camp and we have Josh and Paige (other niece) at home.  Paige is 1 1/2 to Josh's 2 1/2 but Paige may have the weight advantage.  I think the training is coming along quite nicely!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-115283996625104383?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/115283996625104383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=115283996625104383' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115283996625104383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115283996625104383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/07/my-padawan-learner.html' title='My Padawan Learner'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-115273692035169949</id><published>2006-07-12T16:25:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-12T20:54:05.853-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Reading</title><content type='html'>I am hoping to get a decent amount of reading done this summer. I just finished two books and thought they are worth comment. Holy Blood, Holy Grail is the non-fiction "research" work by Michael Baigent that is foundational to the Davinci Code. So here is the super simplified summary of their findings. . . Of the four Gospels, John is the only one that can be trusted to any extent, however, the Apostle John did not write it. Lazarus, brother of Mary and Martha was the author and the whole raising from the dead thing was actually no death at all but an elaborate initiation to Jesus special club. Mary Magdalene and Mary of Bethany (Laz sister) was the same person and was married to Jesus which made Lazarus Jesus' brother-in-law. Jesus didn't die on the cross, mainly because the injuries inflicted during the scourging and crucifixion were not life threatening. The amazing thing is that at the end of the book, Baigent says that this is all a hypothesis that cannot be proven in any way, shape, or form. Yet in the next breath, he says that he knows that this is accurate and the Priori of Scion (secret society) has the proof although he has no idea what that proof is or what it looks like because no one is willing to tell him what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other book is The Phoenix Affirmations by Eric Elnes. What I initially thought would be an encouraging and engaging read turned out to be one of the weakest and watered down statements of biblical faith I have read in a long time. Essentially, this is a movement out of Phoenix of "progressive" pastors who are trying to unify religious, seekers, and anyone who is "open." Again, the super simplified summary is that the doorway of Jesus for salvation is a very good way but not the exclusive way. God is more concerned about how you express your love for God, yourself, and others than what you do with the person of Jesus. He seems to imply that everyone on a genuine "faith" journey experiences salvation no matter who it’s focused on. His main concern is the inclusion and affirmation of the gay and lesbian lifestyle into the Christian community. He compares the importance of this issue with that of slavery. Interesting thing about the book is that right now the author and a handful of others are doing a walk across the country to promote the affirmations and at the end of the walk, they are going to nail the affirmations to the doorway of America in D.C. (in the spirit of Martin Luther and the Wittenberg door).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are two very different books coming from two very different authors, one of faith and one agnostic at best. The common thread within these books are that they try to remake Jesus palatable and in our image. The assumption is that the Bible cannot mean what it says and that what it says cannot be trusted and we need to read between the lines to find the "path of Jesus." The integrity of the researched documents and poor exegesis of the Bible (especially in Phoenix) leads to a complete mess and a theology/philosophy that completely misses the heart of Jesus. As odd as it sounds, these two books work consistently together to draw people away from Jesus rather than toward Him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-115273692035169949?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/115273692035169949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=115273692035169949' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115273692035169949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115273692035169949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/07/summer-reading.html' title='Summer Reading'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-115265097065389885</id><published>2006-07-11T16:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-07-11T16:51:31.656-04:00</updated><title type='text'>O brother, where art thou?</title><content type='html'>Wow, it’s been a while since my last post. So, first off, for those wondering where we are in pee-land, Josh is officially a big boy wearing big boy underwear (specifically Madagascar in the pic). Well, kind of. He peed on me this morning and I looked like I was lactating. Yes, he was sitting on me when the geiser went off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/1600/July%2006%20001.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/320/July%2006%20001.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a great time the week of the 4th. We went up north camping with some friends and set up our base camp. We spent two days with my family in West Branch and Gaylord and one day with our friends and watched fireworks in Alpena over Lake Huron. We had great seats but there was this pesky tree in the way of the less spectacular fireworks. Hannah was sitting on my lap and said during the show, "Daddy, do you know what kind of fireworks I like the best? All of the ones not behind the tree."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;The most spectacular thing that happened was discovered by Allison. On Wednesday morning, Allison walked behind our pop-up and claimed she found a chipmunk swimming in our drain bucket. I dismissed her but decided to check it out anyway. Sure enough, at some point, a chipmunk climbed into the drain bucket and drowned in a cesspool of grease and soap. Josh was enamored with the event and really wanted to touch the deceased. So, here's a great shot of the boy with his first kill (he will be a great hunter and gatherer someday).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/1600/July%2006%20005.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/320/July%2006%20005.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And here are a few other pictures of our week of camping. . .&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/1600/July%2006%20002.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/320/July%2006%20002.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/1600/July%2006%20006.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/320/July%2006%20006.0.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-115265097065389885?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/115265097065389885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=115265097065389885' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115265097065389885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115265097065389885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/07/o-brother-where-art-thou.html' title='O brother, where art thou?'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-115154767125912922</id><published>2006-06-28T22:03:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-29T16:15:31.190-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Hot Pockets</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/1600/hot%20pocket.1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/400/hot%20pocket.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if you have ever heard of Jim Gaffigan, but he is a ridiculously funny comedian from Indiana.  If you haven't, this overheard conversation may not be that funny, but if you have then read on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I broke out in a poison ivy rash yesterday and today I went to Walgreen’s to buy the most expensive over the counter remedy ever created.  As I was in line to check out, I witnessed the following conversation between the 50 something buck-toothed cashier and the middle aged woman...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WG:  Would you like to buy some of these M&amp;M's?&lt;br /&gt;W:   No.  But I would like a pack of Virginia Slims.&lt;br /&gt;WG:  You know, you might as well get the M&amp;amp;M's too.  They're both bad for ya.&lt;br /&gt;W:   No thanks.&lt;br /&gt;WG:  (after ringing the total and receiving her cash)  Now, on this here receipt, there's a coupon good for a dollar off on your next Virginia Slims purchase.&lt;br /&gt;W:   Great.  That'll save me money.&lt;br /&gt;WG:  Yeah, but you gotta remember to bring it with you.  I can't even imagine the number of times I've come in to get some Hot Pockets and forgot my coupon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm... that reminds me... I don't think I've had a Hot Pocket lately.  Perhaps I'll go out and get one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-115154767125912922?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/115154767125912922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=115154767125912922' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115154767125912922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115154767125912922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/06/hot-pockets.html' title='Hot Pockets'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-115142512907673795</id><published>2006-06-27T11:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-27T13:36:17.530-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Warning:  Spoilers...</title><content type='html'>You ruined me&lt;br /&gt;You took away my dreams &lt;br /&gt;You did exactly what I wasn't hoping for&lt;br /&gt;You changed the end &lt;br /&gt;Now I'm confused about the means&lt;br /&gt;You made me feel as if my prayers had been ignored&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes lyrics to a song are more accurate than words that tumble out of my own mouth. So my dream job is no longer an option and in the next few days I will sign on for at least one more year as a Bible teacher and Dean of Students. Whether I feel like it the right thing to do or not, I know that I am in submission to God. Webster defines submission as a legal agreement, and while I think that's accurate, it misses some of the picture. In my struggle to submit to God, I made a legal agreement in reference to the little matter of sin in my life and he released me from the eternal consequences of that "little matter." There is a piece to submission that I utterly hate - trust. True submission to God requires trust that he is making the right decisions and that he is doing what is best. God doesn't give explicit directions, like MapQuest. I like MapQuest because it tells me how long it will take me to get to my destination (and I know that I can almost always shave 5 to 30 minutes off that estimate depending on the length of the trip and my astonishing driving skills.) God doesn't really even give a specific destination other than "holiness" and "worthy heirs" of our inheritance. Sounds good but not really anything I can take a shortcut to. I wish that God would let me win. When I see something that I think is perfect for me and we get into an argument, we always do what he wants to do. I feel like it's all about him and not me. It must be nice not having to choose your battles when you know you will always come out the winner.&lt;br /&gt;So, in a nutshell, I am nursing my wounds and working on thanking God for losing... again. Ross King, one of my favorite musicians says in the afore quoted song, "Where would we be now, if you had let me win? Hallelujah, I lose again."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-115142512907673795?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/115142512907673795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=115142512907673795' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115142512907673795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115142512907673795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/06/warning-spoilers.html' title='Warning:  Spoilers...'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-115137860671602427</id><published>2006-06-26T23:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-26T23:23:26.716-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Current Mood:  Drifter</title><content type='html'>I don't know where I'm going&lt;br /&gt;But I sure know where I've been&lt;br /&gt;Hanging on the promises&lt;br /&gt;In songs of yesterday&lt;br /&gt;An' I've made up my mind&lt;br /&gt;I ain't wasting no more time&lt;br /&gt;But here I go again&lt;br /&gt;Here I go again&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Tho' I keep searching for an answer I never seem to find what I'm looking for,&lt;br /&gt;Oh Lord, I pray&lt;br /&gt;You give me strength to carry on&lt;br /&gt;Cos I know what it means&lt;br /&gt;To walk along the lonely street of dreams&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;An' here I go again on my own&lt;br /&gt;Goin' down the only road I've ever known&lt;br /&gt;Like a drifter I was born to walk alone&lt;br /&gt;An' I've made up my mind&lt;br /&gt;I ain't wasting no more time&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I'm just another heart in need of rescue&lt;br /&gt;Waiting on love's sweet charity&lt;br /&gt;An' I'm gonna hold on&lt;br /&gt;For the rest of my days&lt;br /&gt;Cause I know what it means&lt;br /&gt;To walk along the lonely street of dreams&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;An' here I go again on my own&lt;br /&gt;Goin' down the only road I've ever known&lt;br /&gt;Like a drifter I was born to walk alone&lt;br /&gt;An' I've made up my mind&lt;br /&gt;I ain't wasting no more time&lt;br /&gt;An' here I go again&lt;br /&gt;Here I go again&lt;br /&gt;Here I go again&lt;br /&gt;Here I go again&lt;br /&gt;Here I go again&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;An' I've made up my mind&lt;br /&gt;I ain't wasting no more time&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;An' here I go again on my own&lt;br /&gt;Goin' down the only road I've ever known&lt;br /&gt;Like a drifter I was born to walk alone&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Cos I know what it means&lt;br /&gt;To walk along the lonely street of dreams&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;An' here I go again on my own&lt;br /&gt;Goin' down the only road I've ever known&lt;br /&gt;Like a drifter I was born to walk alone&lt;br /&gt;An' I've made up my mind&lt;br /&gt;I ain't wasting no more time&lt;br /&gt;Here I go again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing like an 80's power ballad to breathe new life into an old soul.  Thank you David Coverdale.  Hope to see you at the South Dakota State Fair.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-115137860671602427?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/115137860671602427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=115137860671602427' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115137860671602427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115137860671602427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/06/current-mood-drifter.html' title='Current Mood:  Drifter'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-115074799567602990</id><published>2006-06-19T16:02:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-19T16:15:44.333-04:00</updated><title type='text'>My True Self!</title><content type='html'>Good news!  I have learned the identity of my true self today.  It is a little awkward to have lived my life for 34 years not knowing who I am and all of a sudden -- blammo!  Here I am.  Thank goodness for the internet, and for that matter, Al Gore.  Anyway, I got this from a friend and it was a little different from the typical personality tests I've taken.  Interesting, fairly accurate, interactive (if you scroll over it), and lots of bright colors (for those of us who are sprinters when it comes to attention).  The one thing that I don't like about this is that anyone who looks at my brightly colored results will know the true me as well and at that, only moments after I have gotten acquainted with myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="position: relative;overflow: hidden;width: 200px;height: 200px;"&gt;&lt;div title=" Very High Openness" style="position: absolute;overflow: hidden;left: 0px;top:0px;height:83px;width:69px;background-color:#18f084"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div title=" Very High Extroversion" style="position: absolute;overflow: hidden;left: 69px;top:0px;height:83px;width:69px;background-color:#f018f0"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div title=" Slightly High Masculinity" style="position: absolute;overflow: hidden;left: 138px;top:0px;height:83px;width:62px;background-color:#177de3"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div title=" Slightly High Agency" style="position: absolute;overflow: hidden;left: 0px;top:83px;height:43px;width:116px;background-color:#16e016"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div title=" Slightly High Confidence" style="position: absolute;overflow: hidden;left: 0px;top:126px;height:38px;width:116px;background-color:#d61515"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div title=" Slightly High Spontenaiety" style="position: absolute;overflow: hidden;left: 0px;top:164px;height:36px;width:116px;background-color:#15d1d1"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div title=" Slightly Low Trust" style="position: absolute;overflow: hidden;left: 116px;top:83px;height:72px;width:31px;background-color:#1111ab"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div title=" Slightly Low Attention to Style" style="position: absolute;overflow: hidden;left: 147px;top:83px;height:72px;width:27px;background-color:#696969"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div title=" Slightly Aesthetic" style="position: absolute;overflow: hidden;left: 174px;top:83px;height:72px;width:26px;background-color:#5aa310"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div title=" Slightly Low Empathy" style="position: absolute;overflow: hidden;left: 116px;top:155px;height:25px;width:52px;background-color:#990f54"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div title=" Low Authoritarianism" style="position: absolute;overflow: hidden;left: 116px;top:180px;height:20px;width:52px;background-color:#510f94"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div title=" Low Femininity" style="position: absolute;overflow: hidden;left: 168px;top:155px;height:45px;width:20px;background-color:#91910f"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div title=" Slightly Imaginative" style="position: absolute;overflow: hidden;left: 188px;top:155px;height:45px;width:12px;background-color:#f58718"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="position:relative; text-align:center; width:200px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.personaldna.com"&gt;Free-Wheeling Leader&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and by the way, as of 4:00 on Monday, we have had an accident free day.  No Mr. PeePee in Josh's big boy underwear (which also looks like the underwear given to post-pregnant women in the hospital).  Just thought you'd want to know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-115074799567602990?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/115074799567602990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=115074799567602990' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115074799567602990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115074799567602990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/06/my-true-self.html' title='My True Self!'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-115066101377251092</id><published>2006-06-18T15:50:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-18T16:06:02.106-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Father's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/1600/Father%27s%20Day%2006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7173/3138/320/Father%27s%20Day%2006.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I woke up to 3 beautiful children beckoning me to come downstairs to eat breakfast.  As Hannah scurried out of the room, her parting words were, "Daddy, be sure to look everywhere."  I went into the bathroom to find a message on the mirror, Happy Father's Day and an art project of a hot fudge sundae.  I went down to breakfast and opened three cards and was greeted by "Top 10 Reasons We Have The Best Daddy."  I have great kids whom I love very much.  But more than my kids, I have an amazing wife.  All of this is sweet, but exists only because of the love of Sherri.  For me, Father's Day is a day to realize not just a new tie, but to contemplate and be amazed by the one who fills my life and will never move out to go to college.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-115066101377251092?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/115066101377251092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=115066101377251092' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115066101377251092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115066101377251092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/06/happy-fathers-day.html' title='Happy Father&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-115060339397508355</id><published>2006-06-17T23:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-18T00:07:16.676-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Am Nothing</title><content type='html'>No further info on the job front.  Lots of discussion on what we should do and what it means to trust God.  I think that sometimes from my limited perspective, God does not behave in a way that elicits trust.  He does things and leads in ways that would discourage the most committed to question.  There have been times that I wondered if impeachment was an option.  Then I am reminded of the question God asked Job (and by no means am I comparing myself to Job), "Where were you when I...."  Job responds by saying that (I'm paraphrasing) God is big, I am small.  We had dinner with Sherri's sister and brother-in-law on Friday.  They told us that the other day, my niece (Grace, 3 years old) had the following conversation with grandma...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;Grandma:  Who's the boss?&lt;br /&gt;Grace:  Mommy and Daddy.&lt;br /&gt;Grandma:  Well, if they are the boss, what are you?&lt;br /&gt;Grace:  I am nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How brilliant is it that God uses stuff like that to bring perspective.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-115060339397508355?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/115060339397508355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=115060339397508355' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115060339397508355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115060339397508355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/06/i-am-nothing.html' title='I Am Nothing'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-115042251585045383</id><published>2006-06-15T20:53:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-15T21:48:35.856-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Place Where Dreams Come True</title><content type='html'>Sherri and I are in a bit of a funk today.  Struggling with what it means to walk in faith, we are experiencing what James says happens to the waves when the wind picks up -- they get tossed back and forth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we decided to load up the family and go to where "dreams come true."  That fantastic four letter word -- IKEA!  You read correctly, IKEA, the Scandinavian vonderpark.  Ve drove into the new facility in Canton and stopped by an attendant who said to us, "You have little ones?  Park here in the family friendly front row section."  I guess having a minivan does pay off because our little ones aren't so little.  As ve valked into the building, a man gave us a map and directed us to the children's play area to check our kids in for free (only Hannah and Allison were allowed in because one must be potty-trained to qualify).   Ve got vone of those lighted buzzer things you get at Outback Steakhouse in the event they needed us before our 45 minutes vere up.  Ve tossed the lighted buzzer thing in someone else's cart because there vas no vay ve vere coming back early.  Ve enjoyed our jaunt throughout the two-story vonderland and found lots of things ve didn't need but really vanted.  You can outfit an entire room for $718 (you provide your own TV and residents).  There vas a Mork &amp;amp; Mindy type mini-chair that had a fabric cocoon type thing that Josh loved and in the event that our house is destroyed, he vould have his own personal escape pod.  They even have a restaurant that serves $1.99 kids meals and 50 cent hot dogs (Herb, you vould be in heaven.).  So, ve ended the evening vith the total purchase price of $4 for non-fat frozen yogurt cones.  Ve left and declined to get our hands stamped for re-entry and as ve vere valking to the van, Allison asked if we could come back tomorrow.  Sherri and I responded vith, "Oh yes Allison, we will be back."  Anyvone for hot dogs?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-115042251585045383?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/115042251585045383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=115042251585045383' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115042251585045383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115042251585045383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/06/place-where-dreams-come-true.html' title='The Place Where Dreams Come True'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-115033376558883463</id><published>2006-06-14T20:14:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-14T23:10:13.733-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Two Roads and One Faith Part 1</title><content type='html'>Two roads diverged in a wood... er... suburb of Detroit and I -- I took, well, neither.  I sat down and waited.  Up to that point, I thought I was right behind that still small voice.  Unfortunately, the clarity I felt earlier is washed away like the ocean laps at my sorry excuse for a sand castle (it's really more of a sand single wide).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What am I talking about?  At the moment, I have to decide what to do in the near future.  I am a teacher and administrator at a great Christian school with fantastic students and great teachers.  However, when contracts came around this year I declined.  The plan was for Sherri to work and for me to finish off my M.Div.  See, I am not a Christian school teacher.  I am a pastor.  It's not just what I do, it's who I am.  So after our plan did not go accordingly, I heard about my dream job in my dream place.  There were all kinds of circumstantial connections and I felt good about it.  At the moment, I know nothing.  I don't know where they are in the process nor do I know if I am still in that process.  This opportunity, however, is something worth risking for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to why I am sitting at the divergent roads.  My boss said that he will give me a few more days to make a final, final decision.  I can do the job and I love those I minister to but it is not my passion.  At some point in the last month, I realized that other than this "all dreams fulfilled" ministry position, I had nothing to fall back on... except what I believed to be God's firm leading.  So, here I sit at the intersection of decision wondering if I was feeling God's leading or if I just consumed undercooked meat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes faith is mistaken for stupidity and stupidity is mistaken for faith.  I am sure that countless sons and fathers have the same conversation over and over again.  The good news for me is that God works in both faith and stupidity.  I really hope, however, that I am on the faith side -- or at least where the lines blur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And by the way, for those interested in the saga of Josh and the potty, we had a good day and I was only peed on once because Tex was shootin' a little high.  More updates to come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-115033376558883463?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/115033376558883463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=115033376558883463' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115033376558883463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/115033376558883463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/06/two-roads-and-one-faith-part-1.html' title='Two Roads and One Faith Part 1'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-114998879736031914</id><published>2006-06-10T20:48:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-10T21:19:57.373-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Things of note today. . .</title><content type='html'>Today is Saturday.  It is the first day that I don't have "stuff" to do for the next week.  Graduation was Friday and my busy week as "all things to all people" is over.  So now I shall reflect on my day.  I filled the mini-van up with gas - $51.26.  Gas prices have hit me with kind of a time lag.  I used to fill up the Suburban for $50.00.  We went to Uno's for dinner.  Sherri took Josh to the restroom and I was left with the girls.  Hannah (who is 5) says to me quite loudly and in a playful tone, "Daddy, you're sexy."  The young couple without kids next to us looked at me.  Not really knowing what else to say, I responded with, "We're not really your traditional family."  They turned away.  I suggested to Hannah that the phrase she used should remain in the context of mommies and daddies.  I bought the latest Bright Eyes CD today.  As I was listening to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;At the Bottom of Everything, &lt;/span&gt;and not really having the spiritual gift of lyrical discernment, I thought I heard Conor Oberst say, "Set fire to the preacher who is promising us health."  I was so excited that Mr. Oberst was that theologically sensitive to put the prosperity gospel in its place.  Of course, then I realized that he actually said, "promising us hell."  Oops.  So much for the spiritual awakening but the music is still pretty sweet.  And finally, we have been having issues with Josh (2) staying in bed at bedtime.  Tonight he got out of bed and began playing with his sisters so I replaced him in bed and gave him a little swat on the back of his thigh.  He leaned back, looked at me, and laughed.  I didn't realize I was so entertaining.  So, that's my life at the moment.  Shock, laughter, awkward moments, pseudo epiphanies, and inadequacy.  Under girding all of this is the difficult to explain, shaky feeling that God has a timeline for us and I am oddly ok with that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-114998879736031914?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/114998879736031914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=114998879736031914' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/114998879736031914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/114998879736031914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/06/things-of-note-today.html' title='Things of note today. . .'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-29452594.post-114982599994423780</id><published>2006-06-08T23:47:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2006-06-09T00:06:39.953-04:00</updated><title type='text'>To whom shall I go?</title><content type='html'>So I decided to start blogging.  I figure I have been reading other peoples blogs, so why not begin one of my own.  I thought I'd explain the name first and then move on from there.  Here's me... I am a follower of Christ.  I love him with all my heart and have journeyed with him for the greater part of my life.  One thing that frustrates me is when Christians follow religion blindly and miss the person behind that religion.  It's like following a lime green Volkswagen bug initially because your friend is driving it.   You're following your friend, not the lime green bug.   But what if your friend got out and someone else got in and drove away?  What would you do?  Follow the bug?  I think alot of people are following the bug, not their friend.  I have never gotten to the point of questioning if Jesus is real or is who he says he is.  And it's not because I haven't struggled with the question.  I have concluded that he is the reason life sticks together.  The thing is, I am always fighting him.  I get angry, frustrated, irritated, I even dislike him at times and say something to the effect, "I'll follow you, but I don't have to like you."  .  When I am in that place, sometimes with angry tears, I yell at him, "To whom shall I go?"  It's from John 6:68 where Peter responds to Jesus question.  Jesus asks if they want to leave him just like the crowd.  Peter simply responds by saying, "To whom shall we go?"  Brilliant.  Not, "I'm not sure if you are the Christ," but essentially, there are no other legitimate options.  Not really the easy answer but it does get the point across.  Jesus is the only legitimate answer.  So, here I am.  It's a start.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/29452594-114982599994423780?l=towhomshalligo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/feeds/114982599994423780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=29452594&amp;postID=114982599994423780' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/114982599994423780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/29452594/posts/default/114982599994423780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://towhomshalligo.blogspot.com/2006/06/to-whom-shall-i-go.html' title='To whom shall I go?'/><author><name>Matt</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08794701355748850507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry></feed>
