That was a sign worn by a lady at yesterday's HeartWalk on the USM campus. (Aside: yes indeed...I made it all 3 miles with no worries at all! Now back to the sign and the Heartwalk...)
There were these signs I discovered too late, on which one could complete this sentence: "I'm walking for _____" Got me thinking of why I was walking. Multiple reasons...
1. For the W.C.U. Society for the Advancement of Management ("SAM").
This is our student group in the School of Business on campus, and I'm a co-sponsor. So perhaps that was it.
2. For the individual students I told to participate.
Hypocrisy-avoidance, I s'pose.
3. For myself.
Actually a pretty huge reason! As I told several people, walking 3 miles in May, 08 would've been no biggie; In Sept. 08 after my Summer-from-Hades, big deal! So I wanted to prove that I could actually do it.
4. For Dad.
Who died of a heart attack at the age of 47, which is 2 years younger than I am now. (I was 15 when he entered eternity).
5. For Charlie & Mattie Madaris and John & Martha Benton.
My grandparents, each of whom had heart-related issues. Charlie died when I was one, so I don't really remember him. But I definitely remember Mattie, John, & Martha. They all impacted my life significantly in various ways.
6. For Drew.
My cousin, who has devoted his life to being an outstanding cardiologist and helping his patients live longer, fuller lives. I am one of his patients, as are my wife's parents. John & Martha Benton were his grandparents too.
7. For generations of children, both living and not yet here.
These are the ones who, by the grace of God, will not have to say "But I wasn't ready! God, Why??" when their loved one dies from a preventable, treatable heart issue.
8. For the countless Drs., nurses, researchers, and others working to eradicate heart disease.
May their tribe increase, and may the fruits of their labors be great and immediate!
The walk itself was glorious. A couple of my students and a couple of WCU staff walked with me, so the fellowship was great. I also saw a few friends and one former student. The weather was tremendous. Sunny & cool. Basically, it was a very fun way to be part of helping contribute to something huge.
Have you ever imagined a world with no heart illness? I have for years now. I started imagining it when John Benton died from heart illness. Papa was very much loved by us grandkids, and he very much loved us too. At age 9, I began to realize how insidious heart illness is. Then at age 15, the imaginations were re-kindled with great pain. Then a few years later when my grandmothers died when I was in college.
So, Lord willing, I'll be part of the HeartWalk for years to come. For Dad. And Mom the young widow. And Papa. And Granny. And Grandpa. And Grandma. And Jamie, Jerry, James, Anne, and Millie, grandkids who'll not meet their grandpa this side of glory. And all of the others.
And also for myself.
Mike
p.s. - See you @ the gym & on the road & on the bike trail in the next days/weeks/months/years! For the sake of my heart. And yours.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Monday, September 22, 2008
So, yesterday was an easy day of sermons...
...the morning one was about Jesus' words in Matt. 6 on giving, and the evening one was from 2 Timothy 1-2 on multiplying discipleship.
Nothing challenging there at all. Easy stuff that all believers do to the fullest, right? Right??
*sighs*
I needed to hear both messages. 2 Timothy has long been a favorite book; Paul's last letter, written to his young apprentice/disciple Timothy. 1 Timothy is Paul saying "so here's how this church thing ought to work" and 2 Timothy is Paul saying "and here's how this Christian life & discipleship thing ought to work."
And of course, Matt. 6 is in the midst of the greatest sermon ever preached. All of the "you have heard/but I say" passages are awesome. And let not anyone slide into the popular thinking that the sermon on the mount was all & only "judge not & you will not be judged." As the guy who discipled me says, "there's a lot of meat in that potato..."
Neither let anyone slide into the popular thinking of "well, Jesus cancelled the law so we can do or not do whatever we want and He'll still love & accept us." Go read Matt. 5-7; you'll not find that thinking in the red letters. Tony quoted C.S. Lewis (paraphrased here): If you enjoy the sermon on the mount, there's something wrong with you!
But in both messages, Tony did his usual blend of encouraging and raising the bar. Funny how preaching the Word does both of those, isn't it?
Anyway, please join me in praying for the Church to rediscover the joys of giving and of disciplemaking. (capital C in "Church," meaning my church, your church, the entire Body of Christ corporately)
Mike
p.s. - It was great to be in actual attendance at the deacons' meeting yesterday afternoon! Been way too long...
p.p.s. - “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." (Matt. 6:19-21)
p.p.p.s. - "You then, my child, be strengthened by the grace that is in Christ Jesus, and what you have heard from me in the presence of many witnesses entrust to faithful men who will be able to teach others also." (2 Tim. 2:1-2)
Nothing challenging there at all. Easy stuff that all believers do to the fullest, right? Right??
*sighs*
I needed to hear both messages. 2 Timothy has long been a favorite book; Paul's last letter, written to his young apprentice/disciple Timothy. 1 Timothy is Paul saying "so here's how this church thing ought to work" and 2 Timothy is Paul saying "and here's how this Christian life & discipleship thing ought to work."
And of course, Matt. 6 is in the midst of the greatest sermon ever preached. All of the "you have heard/but I say" passages are awesome. And let not anyone slide into the popular thinking that the sermon on the mount was all & only "judge not & you will not be judged." As the guy who discipled me says, "there's a lot of meat in that potato..."
Neither let anyone slide into the popular thinking of "well, Jesus cancelled the law so we can do or not do whatever we want and He'll still love & accept us." Go read Matt. 5-7; you'll not find that thinking in the red letters. Tony quoted C.S. Lewis (paraphrased here): If you enjoy the sermon on the mount, there's something wrong with you!
But in both messages, Tony did his usual blend of encouraging and raising the bar. Funny how preaching the Word does both of those, isn't it?
Anyway, please join me in praying for the Church to rediscover the joys of giving and of disciplemaking. (capital C in "Church," meaning my church, your church, the entire Body of Christ corporately)
Mike
p.s. - It was great to be in actual attendance at the deacons' meeting yesterday afternoon! Been way too long...
p.p.s. - “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." (Matt. 6:19-21)
p.p.p.s. - "You then, my child, be strengthened by the grace that is in Christ Jesus, and what you have heard from me in the presence of many witnesses entrust to faithful men who will be able to teach others also." (2 Tim. 2:1-2)
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Consider the outcome of their way of life and imitate their faith...
“Remember your leaders, those who spoke to you the word of God. Consider the outcome of their way of life, and imitate their faith. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.” Hebrews 13:7-8
I love this passage. I find it challenging. Haunting. Convicting. That’s because I know so very few leaders for whom the “outcome of their way of life” is worth considering, and whose faith is worthy of imitation.
As of this morning at 2:15 a.m., there’s even one fewer. A long-time friend of my parents’ and of my brother’s and mine entered eternity after a battle with a particularly nasty form of cancer. William D. (“Dewey”) Huddleston’s faith became sight this morning.
And our world…my world…my Mom’s world…and the Body of Christ in general are all the worse for it.
I’ve literally known Mr. Huddleston for as long as I can remember. He was an educator and administrator, and his wife taught with my Mom. His daughter Kathy is just older than my brother, and his daughter Vicky and I are the same age. We went to school together from 2nd grade through high school. Our families have camped together many times.
Mr. Huddleston was an outstanding role model. He has been a leader in multiple ways for most of my life. Excellent husband, loving father, doting grandfather (in the best sense of that phrase), great friend, good thinker (he got a very advanced graduate degree long after most would’ve given up on pursuing such a thing), servant of many, superb deacon, outstanding Christian.
But his impact on me in particular will always be incalculable. Let me try to capture just a bit of that impact.
When my Dad died suddenly, Mr. Huddleston took care of countless yucky matters for my Mom. A 41-year-old widow with 2 clueless high school sons needs men to be around and to be part of helping around the house and with the boys. Mr. Huddleston was one of the main ones I remember.
Relatedly, an insecure 15-year-old whose beloved Dad dies unexpectedly needs mentors and role models. I learned much about being a man, and a Christian, and a husband, and a father from watching and from talking with Mr. Huddleston. I’d love to say the lessons “took” immediately, but that’s not the case with me. But I’ve thought back to Mr. Huddleston’s example often as I’ve grown up/older & have tried to become a godly man. Even asked him some questions along the way, and cherish the wisdom I gained in return.
Despite the many screwups of mine through the years, I was never cast aside by Mr. Huddleston. I was ashamed to be around him at times, for darkness doesn’t like light too much; it’s way too convicting. But he was always a welcoming, calming presence, showing me time and again what genuine grace-filled love looks like. Truth was spoken, to be sure, but never in condemnation. Always undergirded with love. Since I’ve heard of his homegoing this morning, I’ve been remembering how at the gatherings of family friends back home, I always enjoyed getting to chat with Mr. H. We’d talk about family, and about church, and about parenting, and about education, and even about college football! (He was an FSU fan, which is one reason that to this day I can’t really cheer against FSU).
And when I had a success here & there, Mr. Huddleston was there too. Always encouraging and loving. Always interested and asking me about life and school and Lisa and the kids.
Many people talk a good game about being interested in and concerned for others. Mr. Huddleston lived it. And I will always be grateful.
I hate that his last days were pain-filled. But oh my…what an abundant entrance into the glorious presence of our Lord Mr. H. surely experienced this morning! And the pain? Not for him any more forever! For that, I rejoice. The applause of heaven as Max Lucado says? If you heard thunder this morning, that was likely it.
I also hate that I cannot be there this weekend to celebrate his life and to hug his much-beloved wife and daughters and grandkids. He would be embarrassed at all the fuss. Even at this attempt at a tribute. That’s how he was. But without a doubt, his is a life worth celebrating on earth as it surely is celebrated in heaven!
So as of this morning, even my beloved Ft. Walton Beach will feel that much less like home and that much more lonely and distant. There will be a huge gap there that cannot ever be replaced. Dewey Huddleston leaves quite a wake of influence behind. I am so very grateful to have been impacted by that wake for all these years.
I suppose the pain of these goodbyes is a good thing, for it makes us long for the coming permanent, ever-lasting hello. Lewis said (paraphrase alert) that if we find in ourselves a longing that cannot be satisfied in this world, that is because we were made for another world.
Longer ago than that, here’s what John said:
“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away.... And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.’ And he who was seated on the throne said, ‘Behold, I am making all things new.’ Also he said, ‘Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.’ And he said to me, ‘It is done!’” (Rev. 21:1-7)
Thanks for everything, Mr. Huddleston. You made a difference, which is what we are all supposed to do. Thanks for the demonstration of what that looks like. I’m glad you no longer hurt, my friend and mentor. See you on the other side!
With much love and thanksgiving for a life well-lived to the glory of God,
Mike
p.s. – Would you join me in praying for Neva, Kathy & her husband Bruce, and Vicky? And for their 3 grandkids, Brent, Howard, and Marlowe?
p.p.s. – Would you also join me in asking God to raise up men of significance who matter forever in the lives of others? We seem to be growing ever short in that department…
I love this passage. I find it challenging. Haunting. Convicting. That’s because I know so very few leaders for whom the “outcome of their way of life” is worth considering, and whose faith is worthy of imitation.
As of this morning at 2:15 a.m., there’s even one fewer. A long-time friend of my parents’ and of my brother’s and mine entered eternity after a battle with a particularly nasty form of cancer. William D. (“Dewey”) Huddleston’s faith became sight this morning.
And our world…my world…my Mom’s world…and the Body of Christ in general are all the worse for it.
I’ve literally known Mr. Huddleston for as long as I can remember. He was an educator and administrator, and his wife taught with my Mom. His daughter Kathy is just older than my brother, and his daughter Vicky and I are the same age. We went to school together from 2nd grade through high school. Our families have camped together many times.
Mr. Huddleston was an outstanding role model. He has been a leader in multiple ways for most of my life. Excellent husband, loving father, doting grandfather (in the best sense of that phrase), great friend, good thinker (he got a very advanced graduate degree long after most would’ve given up on pursuing such a thing), servant of many, superb deacon, outstanding Christian.
But his impact on me in particular will always be incalculable. Let me try to capture just a bit of that impact.
When my Dad died suddenly, Mr. Huddleston took care of countless yucky matters for my Mom. A 41-year-old widow with 2 clueless high school sons needs men to be around and to be part of helping around the house and with the boys. Mr. Huddleston was one of the main ones I remember.
Relatedly, an insecure 15-year-old whose beloved Dad dies unexpectedly needs mentors and role models. I learned much about being a man, and a Christian, and a husband, and a father from watching and from talking with Mr. Huddleston. I’d love to say the lessons “took” immediately, but that’s not the case with me. But I’ve thought back to Mr. Huddleston’s example often as I’ve grown up/older & have tried to become a godly man. Even asked him some questions along the way, and cherish the wisdom I gained in return.
Despite the many screwups of mine through the years, I was never cast aside by Mr. Huddleston. I was ashamed to be around him at times, for darkness doesn’t like light too much; it’s way too convicting. But he was always a welcoming, calming presence, showing me time and again what genuine grace-filled love looks like. Truth was spoken, to be sure, but never in condemnation. Always undergirded with love. Since I’ve heard of his homegoing this morning, I’ve been remembering how at the gatherings of family friends back home, I always enjoyed getting to chat with Mr. H. We’d talk about family, and about church, and about parenting, and about education, and even about college football! (He was an FSU fan, which is one reason that to this day I can’t really cheer against FSU).
And when I had a success here & there, Mr. Huddleston was there too. Always encouraging and loving. Always interested and asking me about life and school and Lisa and the kids.
Many people talk a good game about being interested in and concerned for others. Mr. Huddleston lived it. And I will always be grateful.
I hate that his last days were pain-filled. But oh my…what an abundant entrance into the glorious presence of our Lord Mr. H. surely experienced this morning! And the pain? Not for him any more forever! For that, I rejoice. The applause of heaven as Max Lucado says? If you heard thunder this morning, that was likely it.
I also hate that I cannot be there this weekend to celebrate his life and to hug his much-beloved wife and daughters and grandkids. He would be embarrassed at all the fuss. Even at this attempt at a tribute. That’s how he was. But without a doubt, his is a life worth celebrating on earth as it surely is celebrated in heaven!
So as of this morning, even my beloved Ft. Walton Beach will feel that much less like home and that much more lonely and distant. There will be a huge gap there that cannot ever be replaced. Dewey Huddleston leaves quite a wake of influence behind. I am so very grateful to have been impacted by that wake for all these years.
I suppose the pain of these goodbyes is a good thing, for it makes us long for the coming permanent, ever-lasting hello. Lewis said (paraphrase alert) that if we find in ourselves a longing that cannot be satisfied in this world, that is because we were made for another world.
Longer ago than that, here’s what John said:
“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away.... And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.’ And he who was seated on the throne said, ‘Behold, I am making all things new.’ Also he said, ‘Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.’ And he said to me, ‘It is done!’” (Rev. 21:1-7)
Thanks for everything, Mr. Huddleston. You made a difference, which is what we are all supposed to do. Thanks for the demonstration of what that looks like. I’m glad you no longer hurt, my friend and mentor. See you on the other side!
With much love and thanksgiving for a life well-lived to the glory of God,
Mike
p.s. – Would you join me in praying for Neva, Kathy & her husband Bruce, and Vicky? And for their 3 grandkids, Brent, Howard, and Marlowe?
p.p.s. – Would you also join me in asking God to raise up men of significance who matter forever in the lives of others? We seem to be growing ever short in that department…
Monday, September 15, 2008
Lessons of the Scars
We all (probably) have some. Those of us who were stupid young boys (wish there were a more delicate way to phrase that…) have a number. I have scars from just the typical male growing up…skinned knees, oyster-shell cuts (pretty much required when you grow up in/on the Choctawhatchee Bay as I did), bike-wreck reminders, etc. Then there are the ones inflicted intentionally by medical personnel: vaccinations, moles removed, etc.
And then there are those caused by…let’s say “should’ve-known-better-what-were-you-thinking?-stupidity.” This variety of scars shows up predominantly in males. I’ve got one of those, for example, caused by falling out of the back of a jeep rolling along at a pretty good clip…on asphalt…in Jacksonville, FL. (Let’s file the surrounding circumstances under “their sins I will remember no more” and move on, please…*sad sigh*). I have another of those from a burst of the aforementioned stupidity combined with athletic machismo. (I had very little game, but a lot of attitude…) I cut my heel fairly badly while in college. That happens sometimes. What doesn’t usually follow is this: against the better judgment and advice of my girlfriend (who is now my wife), I played an entire softball game instead of heading to the Dr. to get a couple of stitches. (I still remember the sensation of pulling off my cleat and discovering that the wet sensation I had been feeling out in rt. field was not the evening dew, but rather…well, blood., and that I'd need a new pair of cleats for the next game...) Then there’s the fact that I can fairly accurately predict when it’s going to rain because of multiple football games played…tackle, no pads…even in college when we might have known better.
There are other scars that are providentially placed without any overt male stupidity. Life happens under the hand of a mighty, sovereign God, and sometimes scars result.
And then there are the invisible scars. It seems that these are the most painful kind, and the ones that take the longest to heal. Some of these come from family situations, which is tragic. Others come from school situations. Still others from relationships. Frequently, these scars are the result of feeling left out. At times, that particular feeling is more apparent than real; we’ve not really been left after all…but at other times, the leaving is real. And irreversible. I still bear deep scars dating back to December 14, 1974. On that day, my Dad who was/is one of the greatest men I’ve ever known or known of, died suddenly of a heart attack when he was two years younger than I am now, and when I was a fairly insecure 15-year-old. I still don’t know why that happened (oh sure, medically, I know, but in terms of cosmic providence, I do not. And will not, this side of glory.) But here’s the thing about that particular scar—and I believe this applies to other similar scars. Though I don’t know and won’t know why, I eventually realized that my not knowing is OK. After a multi-year season of me protesting and whining and griping and leaving (or trying to, anyway), my God gently and graciously drew me back to truths about Him that I knew and had forgotten. When I cry “Why?? I don’t understand!” my Lord replies “I know…and you won’t understand…but trust Me!” (note: this would have been very little help to me had I been reminded of God’s grace-filled, loving providence on December 15, 1974…come to think of it, I’m pretty sure I was reminded by others, but didn’t care to hear it at that time…) I had some of these same thoughts when my buddy Jason entered glory this summer as a young man…and as another of the great men that I’ve known.
I was thinking of this while putting on a shirt the other day after Lisa doctored one of my most recent surgical scars. I remarked to her, “I look like I lost a knife fight!” (Rest easy; absolutely no pictures of this will be forthcoming here. You’re welcome! *grin*)
Think of the lessons of the scars. Whatever kind of scar.
“That hurt! Don’t do it again!”
After about my 8th sprained ankle, I finally figured out that playing tackle football without pads is not the best plan. And after about the 73rd bike crash, I discovered that slowing down just a bit and not wrecking the bike left me feeling much better than almost making the curve feels. This one also applies to some of the invisible scars. Being stupid with our heart & love hurts! Eventually most of us learn to be a bit more circumspect and to guard our hearts a bit more closely. Because of the scars.
“Remember this; you’re healthier because of it”
Applies to vaccine scars & to some other minor surgery scars. And to some of the relational scars too.
“Let this scar remind you of God’s grace toward you and of the brevity of life”
I have 10 scars related to a particularly scary sort of cancer. Which I am apparently free from now. Dr. Nagen Bellare & his team are awesome! Dr. Pecunia & his surgical team are great! Dr. Steven Conerly & the dermatology group are outstanding! At M.D. Anderson, Dr. Homsi, Dr. Kim, Dr. Hwu (both of them), & Dr. Mehran are wonderful, as are Fe, Meritas, and Jessie the nurse practitioners that I’ve spent some quality time with. M.D. Anderson is a place filled with amazing health care professionals, all dedicated to eradicating cancer. (I love that the phrase “eradicating cancer” appears in their mission statement, and that they really buy into that particular mission. Have you ever prayed for cancer researchers as they go about their work in the lab? I’m newly-mindful of that particular prayer concern) But as marvelous as all of those people are, and as skilled as they are at what they do—and they are very highly skilled!—I am here now because my Lord, the Great Physician, chose to use those people and others as tools in His mighty hands of earthly healing. Note: Dr. Bellare, my local oncologist, told us exactly that at our first appointment with him in 2005. He has repeated it to me in subsequent appointments.
So I rejoice in my 10 cancer-surgery scars, for they remind me to celebrate life and healing and health and skilled medical professionals, all of whom do their thing under the guiding hand of a loving God. Sure, I remember the pain of the surgeries—especially just now as I was re-booting my treadmill & weightlifting program!—but I hope the lessons of the scars always remind me that the pain was temporary and healing in its nature. Even the pain of losing my Dad...although "losing" is probably not the right word, for we know where he is, hallelujah! I pray that I always look past the scars to the One Who providentially ordered that they be necessary. I hope I never forget how utterly dependent I was while laid out in surgery recovery and in IL-2 ICU waiting. And that now that those are past, I am still just as utterly dependent on my God. As are you, by the way. I pray the scars always remind me “to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” Finally, I pray that they will always remind me, as the late, great Keith Green said, "life is short; eternity is long..."
What do your scars teach you? Are you listening to their lessons?
And then there are those caused by…let’s say “should’ve-known-better-what-were-you-thinking?-stupidity.” This variety of scars shows up predominantly in males. I’ve got one of those, for example, caused by falling out of the back of a jeep rolling along at a pretty good clip…on asphalt…in Jacksonville, FL. (Let’s file the surrounding circumstances under “their sins I will remember no more” and move on, please…*sad sigh*). I have another of those from a burst of the aforementioned stupidity combined with athletic machismo. (I had very little game, but a lot of attitude…) I cut my heel fairly badly while in college. That happens sometimes. What doesn’t usually follow is this: against the better judgment and advice of my girlfriend (who is now my wife), I played an entire softball game instead of heading to the Dr. to get a couple of stitches. (I still remember the sensation of pulling off my cleat and discovering that the wet sensation I had been feeling out in rt. field was not the evening dew, but rather…well, blood., and that I'd need a new pair of cleats for the next game...) Then there’s the fact that I can fairly accurately predict when it’s going to rain because of multiple football games played…tackle, no pads…even in college when we might have known better.
There are other scars that are providentially placed without any overt male stupidity. Life happens under the hand of a mighty, sovereign God, and sometimes scars result.
And then there are the invisible scars. It seems that these are the most painful kind, and the ones that take the longest to heal. Some of these come from family situations, which is tragic. Others come from school situations. Still others from relationships. Frequently, these scars are the result of feeling left out. At times, that particular feeling is more apparent than real; we’ve not really been left after all…but at other times, the leaving is real. And irreversible. I still bear deep scars dating back to December 14, 1974. On that day, my Dad who was/is one of the greatest men I’ve ever known or known of, died suddenly of a heart attack when he was two years younger than I am now, and when I was a fairly insecure 15-year-old. I still don’t know why that happened (oh sure, medically, I know, but in terms of cosmic providence, I do not. And will not, this side of glory.) But here’s the thing about that particular scar—and I believe this applies to other similar scars. Though I don’t know and won’t know why, I eventually realized that my not knowing is OK. After a multi-year season of me protesting and whining and griping and leaving (or trying to, anyway), my God gently and graciously drew me back to truths about Him that I knew and had forgotten. When I cry “Why?? I don’t understand!” my Lord replies “I know…and you won’t understand…but trust Me!” (note: this would have been very little help to me had I been reminded of God’s grace-filled, loving providence on December 15, 1974…come to think of it, I’m pretty sure I was reminded by others, but didn’t care to hear it at that time…) I had some of these same thoughts when my buddy Jason entered glory this summer as a young man…and as another of the great men that I’ve known.
I was thinking of this while putting on a shirt the other day after Lisa doctored one of my most recent surgical scars. I remarked to her, “I look like I lost a knife fight!” (Rest easy; absolutely no pictures of this will be forthcoming here. You’re welcome! *grin*)
Think of the lessons of the scars. Whatever kind of scar.
“That hurt! Don’t do it again!”
After about my 8th sprained ankle, I finally figured out that playing tackle football without pads is not the best plan. And after about the 73rd bike crash, I discovered that slowing down just a bit and not wrecking the bike left me feeling much better than almost making the curve feels. This one also applies to some of the invisible scars. Being stupid with our heart & love hurts! Eventually most of us learn to be a bit more circumspect and to guard our hearts a bit more closely. Because of the scars.
“Remember this; you’re healthier because of it”
Applies to vaccine scars & to some other minor surgery scars. And to some of the relational scars too.
“Let this scar remind you of God’s grace toward you and of the brevity of life”
I have 10 scars related to a particularly scary sort of cancer. Which I am apparently free from now. Dr. Nagen Bellare & his team are awesome! Dr. Pecunia & his surgical team are great! Dr. Steven Conerly & the dermatology group are outstanding! At M.D. Anderson, Dr. Homsi, Dr. Kim, Dr. Hwu (both of them), & Dr. Mehran are wonderful, as are Fe, Meritas, and Jessie the nurse practitioners that I’ve spent some quality time with. M.D. Anderson is a place filled with amazing health care professionals, all dedicated to eradicating cancer. (I love that the phrase “eradicating cancer” appears in their mission statement, and that they really buy into that particular mission. Have you ever prayed for cancer researchers as they go about their work in the lab? I’m newly-mindful of that particular prayer concern) But as marvelous as all of those people are, and as skilled as they are at what they do—and they are very highly skilled!—I am here now because my Lord, the Great Physician, chose to use those people and others as tools in His mighty hands of earthly healing. Note: Dr. Bellare, my local oncologist, told us exactly that at our first appointment with him in 2005. He has repeated it to me in subsequent appointments.
So I rejoice in my 10 cancer-surgery scars, for they remind me to celebrate life and healing and health and skilled medical professionals, all of whom do their thing under the guiding hand of a loving God. Sure, I remember the pain of the surgeries—especially just now as I was re-booting my treadmill & weightlifting program!—but I hope the lessons of the scars always remind me that the pain was temporary and healing in its nature. Even the pain of losing my Dad...although "losing" is probably not the right word, for we know where he is, hallelujah! I pray that I always look past the scars to the One Who providentially ordered that they be necessary. I hope I never forget how utterly dependent I was while laid out in surgery recovery and in IL-2 ICU waiting. And that now that those are past, I am still just as utterly dependent on my God. As are you, by the way. I pray the scars always remind me “to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” Finally, I pray that they will always remind me, as the late, great Keith Green said, "life is short; eternity is long..."
What do your scars teach you? Are you listening to their lessons?
Friday, September 12, 2008
I Remember...
…the phone call from a friend: “are you watching the news this morning? No? Well, turn the news on…apparently an airliner has crashed into the World Trade Center…”
…watching the smoke billow…
…watching live as the 2nd plane hit the other tower…
…the rainstorm of papers.
…the collapse of the 2 towers.
…seeing President Bush blanch when he was told of the incident while sitting in a classroom in FL
…the police and firefighters heading toward what all others were desperately trying to escape.
…wondering in a bit of panic where my brother, the United Airlines pilot, was.
…being overwhelmed with joy when I got through to him at his home in CA.(Turns out, he was actually supposed to fly out of Boston that day as did two of the ill-fated planes. *shudders* But he was not scheduled for one of those particular flights. The plane he was to be on had to land at an abandoned airbase in AZ after the order was given to clear all U.S. airspace.)
…the surreal thought of U.S. combat pilots having orders to shoot down any plane flying.
…thinking that the world had surely and irrevocably changed for the worse, and regretting that for my children.
…thinking very deeply about what I believe about the nature of God and man and faith and Christianity and Islam. And having my convictions deepened by the experience.
…the all-too-few days afterward in which we Americans were united & on the same page. Sort of like now…only about 180 degrees different. *sigh*
…the stories and pictures that continued to come out.
…the amazing relief when hearing that tens of thousands got out of the two towers.
…the crushing grief that was felt by the families & friends of the nearly 3,000 who didn’t get out. (I can only imagine the grief, actually. I’ve lost close loved ones, but never to a nasty terrorist attack…)
…the odd sense of triumph in the midst of tragedy as I heard what happened on United Flight 93 when passengers fought back, ultimately crashing the plane in a field in PA rather than on the White House or the Capitol.
…the creepy sensation when I was outside a couple of weeks later and heard/saw the first plane fly overhead since 9/11/01.
…“Freedom was attacked this morning by a faceless coward…”
…feeling very deeply that we should never forget, just as my parents’ generation have never forgotten events of Dec. 7, 1941. I actually did recall Japanese Gen’l Yamamoto’s words just after the Pearl Harbor attack: “I fear all we have done is awaken a sleeping giant and fill him with a terrible resolve…”
May Yamamoto’s words be prophetic here, 7 years later, just as they were in 1941.
Take a few minutes & listen to this. I landed on it while radio station surfing on the way to work yesterday morning. (note: I’m not a huge talk radio listener…I find that my blood pressure and my general thoughts about my fellow humans & our political leaders are better when I stay away from that particular media outlet)
But this one took me all the way back to 9/11/01 and the accompanying emotions. It took me a minute to re-compose after this montage of sounds from that day. Particularly the air traffic controllers desperately trying to contact the hijacked planes. And the phone call from inside the WTC. And the firemen trying to contact other teams on the walkie-talkies. Well, just give a listen.
…watching the smoke billow…
…watching live as the 2nd plane hit the other tower…
…the rainstorm of papers.
…the collapse of the 2 towers.
…seeing President Bush blanch when he was told of the incident while sitting in a classroom in FL
…the police and firefighters heading toward what all others were desperately trying to escape.
…wondering in a bit of panic where my brother, the United Airlines pilot, was.
…being overwhelmed with joy when I got through to him at his home in CA.(Turns out, he was actually supposed to fly out of Boston that day as did two of the ill-fated planes. *shudders* But he was not scheduled for one of those particular flights. The plane he was to be on had to land at an abandoned airbase in AZ after the order was given to clear all U.S. airspace.)
…the surreal thought of U.S. combat pilots having orders to shoot down any plane flying.
…thinking that the world had surely and irrevocably changed for the worse, and regretting that for my children.
…thinking very deeply about what I believe about the nature of God and man and faith and Christianity and Islam. And having my convictions deepened by the experience.
…the all-too-few days afterward in which we Americans were united & on the same page. Sort of like now…only about 180 degrees different. *sigh*
…the stories and pictures that continued to come out.
…the amazing relief when hearing that tens of thousands got out of the two towers.
…the crushing grief that was felt by the families & friends of the nearly 3,000 who didn’t get out. (I can only imagine the grief, actually. I’ve lost close loved ones, but never to a nasty terrorist attack…)
…the odd sense of triumph in the midst of tragedy as I heard what happened on United Flight 93 when passengers fought back, ultimately crashing the plane in a field in PA rather than on the White House or the Capitol.
…the creepy sensation when I was outside a couple of weeks later and heard/saw the first plane fly overhead since 9/11/01.
…“Freedom was attacked this morning by a faceless coward…”
…feeling very deeply that we should never forget, just as my parents’ generation have never forgotten events of Dec. 7, 1941. I actually did recall Japanese Gen’l Yamamoto’s words just after the Pearl Harbor attack: “I fear all we have done is awaken a sleeping giant and fill him with a terrible resolve…”
May Yamamoto’s words be prophetic here, 7 years later, just as they were in 1941.
Take a few minutes & listen to this. I landed on it while radio station surfing on the way to work yesterday morning. (note: I’m not a huge talk radio listener…I find that my blood pressure and my general thoughts about my fellow humans & our political leaders are better when I stay away from that particular media outlet)
But this one took me all the way back to 9/11/01 and the accompanying emotions. It took me a minute to re-compose after this montage of sounds from that day. Particularly the air traffic controllers desperately trying to contact the hijacked planes. And the phone call from inside the WTC. And the firemen trying to contact other teams on the walkie-talkies. Well, just give a listen.
(Note: it has some Glen Beck commentary, plus a blurb from Keith Olberman griping about the RNC showing footage from 9/11/01. Keith's a moron imo; Glen's OK I guess. But what I really want you to listen to starts at the 9:27 mark if you want to fast forward. Might want to grab a hankie first...) You'll hear one of the hijackers speaking over the radio, followed by air traffic controllers trying get back in touch. Followed by a collection of sounds from that day. From 9:27 to the end is about 7 minutes worth of an emotional journey. I'd say, "enjoy," but you won't.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Pictures at an Exhibition
(The "exhibition" is titled, "Mike here are some ways you know you're getting old...")
My last group of guys that I coached on the football field are juniors now. Playing varsity football. And contributing.
My last group of ladies that I helped with in basketball are seniors. (Well, thankfully, there's one junior who played varsity in 9th grade...so I have one more year of connection with the program. Thanks, Katie! *smile*)
My daughter is a senior in HS. That's all I have to say about that. (actually, I have much to say about that...but not just yet)
My son turned 20 this past summer, and is in year one of a four-year professional school. (Pharmacy, as my regular reader knows...)
My nephew graduates from U of FL in the next year. Engineering. A 5-year program there.
My other nephew will sit for his 100-ton boat captain's license exam soon. He already has the 50-ton license, which would allow him to captain any charter fishing boat.
I have taught 2 different students/friends in both high school and college.
Children of guys who played football in my college days are now playing. And worse, some of them have finished playing and are now coaching.
Folks I taught back in my youth Sunday School teaching days are...a) married, b) with kids, c) long since finished with college and grad school, d) making nice livings, e) pastoring churches, f) missionaries in difficult foreign countries, g) lawyers & Drs. & nurses & teachers & such.
My hair and my beard are taking on different hues all by themselves. Others pay righteous bucks for this; not me, baby. Nature's all it takes to look this good (or something...)
I have 10 different surgical scars that are cancer related. (4 from 3 years ago, & 6 from this summer)
I have personally had the following "old people" medical procedures...all in 2008! CT scan of chest/abdomen/pelvis (multiple times)...Brain MRI (twice)...needle biopsy of lung (twice)...upper & lower GI series...cholesterol & liver screen (bloodwork...multiple times)...high-dose IL-2 (2 cycles)...lung function test...dobutamine echocardiogram...video-assisted thoracic surgery (twice)...worn oxygen in a hospital bed out of necessity (a few times during IL-2)...had a PICC line installed to run IV from upper arm directly to my heart(twice)...been rolled out of hospital or clinic in a wheelchair (multiple times)...worn a Holter heart monitor for 24 hours...CT-A and MR-A (whatever those are...a variant of CT & MRI)...P.E.T. scan (multiple times)...had to blow on the dadburn incentive spirometer a zillion times to help restore lung function & tissue...chest x-ray (multiple times)...plus, I know exactly how the parking passes @ M.D. Anderson work, and can find my way around that massive facility pretty well (I'm less good at navigating the hospital part; I blame anesthesia + IL-2 for that...)
I know people who retired when they were my age. (In case you're wondering, let's just say that "retirement" won't be happening any time soon @ Casa Madaris...*sigh*)
The phrase "empty nesters" will be accurate for Lisa & me in about 11 months. Which brings 2 reactions: (a) how in the world can Lisa & I be on the cusp of an empty nest, for crying out loud?? (b) while she is my best friend and we dearly enjoy each other's company, we're not particularly looking forward to both of our babies living somewhere else...*huge sigh*
Both of my children will vote in the upcoming presidential election.
My HS class had our 30th class reunion...in the Fall of 2007!!!
I graduated from high school the year my new pastor was born. (Just thought of that one...now I'm really bummed...*grin*)
I've lived in the house we're in now much longer than I've ever lived in any other house in my lifetime.
Amidst all the hullabaloo over Sen. Obama misstating the number of states in the USA, I was reminded that when I was born, there were only 48! (hey, don't laugh...one day your kids/grandkids will be amazed that Puerto & American Samoa were once merely "territories" & not part of the USA...)
I occasionally get up early in the morning (4-430 a.m.) and come lie on the floor because my back is sore. Of course, I partly blame our mattress for this.
A guy that was an undergrad student at Alabama after I left & took my first job in Indiana is now Dean of the School of Business @ USM.
I'm so old that I remember watching USM's football team before Brett Favre showed up. And I definitely remember watching the Green Bay Packers before he got there...I am a lifelong fan, going back to the Bart Starr/Jim Taylor/Paul Hornung/Ray Nitschke/Vince Lombardi - era Packers. (Aside: Thus, this oft-stated sentence in H'burg totally doesn't compute with me: "I was a die-hard Packer fan, but then Brett left, so I'm tossing all my Packer stuff..." In case you're wondering, that is not a die-hard Packer fan.)
I remember Super Bowl I. My Roman numeral knowledge ends about about XX, so I haven't the vaguest clue what Super Bowl will be played in 2009, but I remember the first one.
(I'm sure there are others; that's the only ones I can think of right at the moment...I'd ask for other suggestions from you, but I'm already too dadburn depressed now...*grin*) Seriously, a summer like the one I've had causes one to ponder much on the passage of time and brevity of life. The late great Keith Green said it best: "life is short; eternity is long."
Know that I plan on enjoying the time I have left--however much that may be--even more than I've enjoyed these first 4(garbled) years. This is the day that the Lord has made; I will rejoice and be glad in it!
Want to help? Let's eat, and drink coffee, and watch football, and go hunting, and worship, and hang out, and go on mission trips, and fish, and listen to live jazz, and talk of life, love, and other mysteries. You in?
My last group of guys that I coached on the football field are juniors now. Playing varsity football. And contributing.
My last group of ladies that I helped with in basketball are seniors. (Well, thankfully, there's one junior who played varsity in 9th grade...so I have one more year of connection with the program. Thanks, Katie! *smile*)
My daughter is a senior in HS. That's all I have to say about that. (actually, I have much to say about that...but not just yet)
My son turned 20 this past summer, and is in year one of a four-year professional school. (Pharmacy, as my regular reader knows...)
My nephew graduates from U of FL in the next year. Engineering. A 5-year program there.
My other nephew will sit for his 100-ton boat captain's license exam soon. He already has the 50-ton license, which would allow him to captain any charter fishing boat.
I have taught 2 different students/friends in both high school and college.
Children of guys who played football in my college days are now playing. And worse, some of them have finished playing and are now coaching.
Folks I taught back in my youth Sunday School teaching days are...a) married, b) with kids, c) long since finished with college and grad school, d) making nice livings, e) pastoring churches, f) missionaries in difficult foreign countries, g) lawyers & Drs. & nurses & teachers & such.
My hair and my beard are taking on different hues all by themselves. Others pay righteous bucks for this; not me, baby. Nature's all it takes to look this good (or something...)
I have 10 different surgical scars that are cancer related. (4 from 3 years ago, & 6 from this summer)
I have personally had the following "old people" medical procedures...all in 2008! CT scan of chest/abdomen/pelvis (multiple times)...Brain MRI (twice)...needle biopsy of lung (twice)...upper & lower GI series...cholesterol & liver screen (bloodwork...multiple times)...high-dose IL-2 (2 cycles)...lung function test...dobutamine echocardiogram...video-assisted thoracic surgery (twice)...worn oxygen in a hospital bed out of necessity (a few times during IL-2)...had a PICC line installed to run IV from upper arm directly to my heart(twice)...been rolled out of hospital or clinic in a wheelchair (multiple times)...worn a Holter heart monitor for 24 hours...CT-A and MR-A (whatever those are...a variant of CT & MRI)...P.E.T. scan (multiple times)...had to blow on the dadburn incentive spirometer a zillion times to help restore lung function & tissue...chest x-ray (multiple times)...plus, I know exactly how the parking passes @ M.D. Anderson work, and can find my way around that massive facility pretty well (I'm less good at navigating the hospital part; I blame anesthesia + IL-2 for that...)
I know people who retired when they were my age. (In case you're wondering, let's just say that "retirement" won't be happening any time soon @ Casa Madaris...*sigh*)
The phrase "empty nesters" will be accurate for Lisa & me in about 11 months. Which brings 2 reactions: (a) how in the world can Lisa & I be on the cusp of an empty nest, for crying out loud?? (b) while she is my best friend and we dearly enjoy each other's company, we're not particularly looking forward to both of our babies living somewhere else...*huge sigh*
Both of my children will vote in the upcoming presidential election.
My HS class had our 30th class reunion...in the Fall of 2007!!!
I graduated from high school the year my new pastor was born. (Just thought of that one...now I'm really bummed...*grin*)
I've lived in the house we're in now much longer than I've ever lived in any other house in my lifetime.
Amidst all the hullabaloo over Sen. Obama misstating the number of states in the USA, I was reminded that when I was born, there were only 48! (hey, don't laugh...one day your kids/grandkids will be amazed that Puerto & American Samoa were once merely "territories" & not part of the USA...)
I occasionally get up early in the morning (4-430 a.m.) and come lie on the floor because my back is sore. Of course, I partly blame our mattress for this.
A guy that was an undergrad student at Alabama after I left & took my first job in Indiana is now Dean of the School of Business @ USM.
I'm so old that I remember watching USM's football team before Brett Favre showed up. And I definitely remember watching the Green Bay Packers before he got there...I am a lifelong fan, going back to the Bart Starr/Jim Taylor/Paul Hornung/Ray Nitschke/Vince Lombardi - era Packers. (Aside: Thus, this oft-stated sentence in H'burg totally doesn't compute with me: "I was a die-hard Packer fan, but then Brett left, so I'm tossing all my Packer stuff..." In case you're wondering, that is not a die-hard Packer fan.)
I remember Super Bowl I. My Roman numeral knowledge ends about about XX, so I haven't the vaguest clue what Super Bowl will be played in 2009, but I remember the first one.
(I'm sure there are others; that's the only ones I can think of right at the moment...I'd ask for other suggestions from you, but I'm already too dadburn depressed now...*grin*) Seriously, a summer like the one I've had causes one to ponder much on the passage of time and brevity of life. The late great Keith Green said it best: "life is short; eternity is long."
Know that I plan on enjoying the time I have left--however much that may be--even more than I've enjoyed these first 4(garbled) years. This is the day that the Lord has made; I will rejoice and be glad in it!
Want to help? Let's eat, and drink coffee, and watch football, and go hunting, and worship, and hang out, and go on mission trips, and fish, and listen to live jazz, and talk of life, love, and other mysteries. You in?
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Some pix of interest
(well, they're of interest to me, anyway...*smile*) Here are a few pix from the White Coat ceremony @ the school of pharmacy that I wrote of earlier. Also, a few gen'l family pix, plus a few others. Note: while this post is large because of the pictures, I didn't write very much. I promise! ;~{)} (<==that's me winking...) 
The setting for the festivities inside the Ford Center. (taken by good friend Debbie Kennedy whose niece is in James' class; Debbie & her sister were closer to the stage than we were) This is the same facility that will host the presidential debate shortly. Don't ask me whether the presidential debate or the white coat ceremony is the more significant; I'm quite sure my answer would offend your political sensibilities...*smile*
Coming soon, to a pharmacy/hospital/research facility near you...L-R: 1 - Friend Thomas from Batesville, whose Mom feeds this crowd on occasion since they live relatively close by. 2 - my favorite future pharmacist. 3. Roommate Lamar from Huntsville, AL; both of his folks are Ole Miss grads. 4. Roommate Kevin from Pelahatchie, MS. One always prays for the Lord to grant friends to one's kids that will help take them in the direction a parent wishes, academically, socially, and spiritually. You're looking at part of the answer(s) to that prayer.
The young apprentices with their Jedi Master & Teacher...*grin* (in the middle) legendary pharmacy educator Dr. Marvin Wilson, Assoc. Dean of the Pharmacy School. His intro at the White coat ceremony brought a thunderous ovation; he basically keeps all of the students straight & manages the academic side of the program. He is awesome!
The 3 amigos, er, roommates. 
"James Madaris, University of Mississippi, Pharmacy Student"
And with his Dad. Uncanny how our ties knots are carbon copies, isn't it? We both prefer t-shirts & shorts; thus, our ties will frequently be a tad off-center. 
And his Mom. 
The awesome "Tree House" of friends Jim & Dorothy Crockett out in the country near Oxford. They let Lisa & me spend the night there for white coat time. One of the great, calming,
"chill-out" retreat locations anywhere!
Inside Jim & Dorothy's place.
And again. Doesn't it just scream "y'all come sit a spell & stay awhile...and don't worry about anything!"? 
My favorite brother and me. (note: I only have the one...*smile*) Jim has stepped up very large this summer in our bend in the road. Ya gotta love his shirt: "I'm Retired...(U.S. Navy logo)...Do It Yourself". Mine was purchased near his home: "Slapout, Alabama...Where You Oughta Be" This is at our house just before he headed east after our shared journey to Houston.
Jim & me at his place on Lake Jordan in the suburbs of Slapout and/or Holtville, AL. 
James & Anne share a tube ride on Lake Jordan behind Jim's place. Lake Jordan is gorgeous & still somewhat undiscovered. If you wish, I can talk to you about an excellent lakefront condo deal there. (Jim's doing the condos...and I'm serious here, btw)
My babies. All 4 of them. *grin* This is shortly before James headed back up to Oxford for school. He's holding Beau as a baby; Anne's holding our dog, Sam. Beau views Sam as a really large & cool chew toy. Sam is not completely thrilled with this view.
My babies with their Mom.
The setting for the festivities inside the Ford Center. (taken by good friend Debbie Kennedy whose niece is in James' class; Debbie & her sister were closer to the stage than we were) This is the same facility that will host the presidential debate shortly. Don't ask me whether the presidential debate or the white coat ceremony is the more significant; I'm quite sure my answer would offend your political sensibilities...*smile*The students file in. Note the handsome fellow second in line on this row that's entering.
The festivities begin. L-R - 1 - Dr. Sparky Reardon, Dean of Students @ UM & keynote speaker for the evening; 2 - President of the Pharmacy Student Association--he's from Petal & is a P4, meaning in his second year of the program; 3 - A Pharmacy professor; she directs the labs for the Oxford part of the program; 4 - Dean of the Pharmacy School (the 2 ladies behind #3 & #4 are some of the administrative assistants in the Pharmacy School; 5 - a regional director w/ Kroger's Pharmacy division.
The festivities begin. L-R - 1 - Dr. Sparky Reardon, Dean of Students @ UM & keynote speaker for the evening; 2 - President of the Pharmacy Student Association--he's from Petal & is a P4, meaning in his second year of the program; 3 - A Pharmacy professor; she directs the labs for the Oxford part of the program; 4 - Dean of the Pharmacy School (the 2 ladies behind #3 & #4 are some of the administrative assistants in the Pharmacy School; 5 - a regional director w/ Kroger's Pharmacy division.Signing the code of ethics/conduct for the Pharmacy program. Each student did this just prior to getting their white coat. L-R: 1 - the guy from Kroger; 2 - a classmate; 3 - my favorite future pharmacist; 4 - another professor from the Pharmacy program; this one directs the dreaded/vaunted P5 year of clinicals in Jackson. They're signing the large copies of the statement they just read. One will be on the wall inside the School of Pharmacy in Oxford, and the other on the wall in Jackson where they'll have their clinicals during the P5 year.
That's James just after having his white coat put on him by the Dean of the School of Pharmacy. The books they're handing are the history of pharmacy education in Mississippi since James' is the 100th class admitted for study. I'm guessing things have changed just a smidge from 1908 until now...
My favorite future pharmacist returns to his seat with his white coat proudly in place.
That's James just after having his white coat put on him by the Dean of the School of Pharmacy. The books they're handing are the history of pharmacy education in Mississippi since James' is the 100th class admitted for study. I'm guessing things have changed just a smidge from 1908 until now...My favorite future pharmacist returns to his seat with his white coat proudly in place.Coming soon, to a pharmacy/hospital/research facility near you...L-R: 1 - Friend Thomas from Batesville, whose Mom feeds this crowd on occasion since they live relatively close by. 2 - my favorite future pharmacist. 3. Roommate Lamar from Huntsville, AL; both of his folks are Ole Miss grads. 4. Roommate Kevin from Pelahatchie, MS. One always prays for the Lord to grant friends to one's kids that will help take them in the direction a parent wishes, academically, socially, and spiritually. You're looking at part of the answer(s) to that prayer.
The young apprentices with their Jedi Master & Teacher...*grin* (in the middle) legendary pharmacy educator Dr. Marvin Wilson, Assoc. Dean of the Pharmacy School. His intro at the White coat ceremony brought a thunderous ovation; he basically keeps all of the students straight & manages the academic side of the program. He is awesome!The 3 amigos, er, roommates. 
"James Madaris, University of Mississippi, Pharmacy Student"
And with his Dad. Uncanny how our ties knots are carbon copies, isn't it? We both prefer t-shirts & shorts; thus, our ties will frequently be a tad off-center. 
And his Mom. The awesome "Tree House" of friends Jim & Dorothy Crockett out in the country near Oxford. They let Lisa & me spend the night there for white coat time. One of the great, calming,"chill-out" retreat locations anywhere!
Inside Jim & Dorothy's place.
And again. Doesn't it just scream "y'all come sit a spell & stay awhile...and don't worry about anything!"? Here's where James, Kevin, & Lamar live. (And Beau the killer dog too!)
My favorite brother and me. (note: I only have the one...*smile*) Jim has stepped up very large this summer in our bend in the road. Ya gotta love his shirt: "I'm Retired...(U.S. Navy logo)...Do It Yourself". Mine was purchased near his home: "Slapout, Alabama...Where You Oughta Be" This is at our house just before he headed east after our shared journey to Houston.Jim & me at his place on Lake Jordan in the suburbs of Slapout and/or Holtville, AL. James & Anne share a tube ride on Lake Jordan behind Jim's place. Lake Jordan is gorgeous & still somewhat undiscovered. If you wish, I can talk to you about an excellent lakefront condo deal there. (Jim's doing the condos...and I'm serious here, btw)My babies. All 4 of them. *grin* This is shortly before James headed back up to Oxford for school. He's holding Beau as a baby; Anne's holding our dog, Sam. Beau views Sam as a really large & cool chew toy. Sam is not completely thrilled with this view.My babies with their Mom.And with their Dad.
Again. Note carefully that Sugar--our neighbor's dog--has come to visit. Sugar is a cutie. She looks like she got up under a pickup truck that was leaking oil real badly. In fact, that's her regular coloring. When Sugar is running or walking, she has about a half-inch of clearance before her chest drags on the ground. Very amusing to watch her run; and rather confusing to Sam...
My girls. Aren't they gorgeous??
Me & my favorite HS senior. Those of you with little bitty kidlings at the house, make sure to enjoy each stage of the journey, for verily, it goes by oh-so-fast...*heavy sigh*
The HS senior with flash directly in her face.
A Boy and his dangerous, killer dog (shhh...Beau the dog [short for "Beauregard"] doesn't know he's a squirt!...*grin*). Beau is a miniature pinscher. Regrettably, as already noted, he (Beau) sometimes doesn't think he's a "miniature" anything...thinks he's a big tough guy. He's a cute as he can be, with a great little sassy personality. BTW, Beau is about as big as he's going to get. He might've added another pound or so, but he'll always look like "Honey, I shrunk the dog..."
Again. Note carefully that Sugar--our neighbor's dog--has come to visit. Sugar is a cutie. She looks like she got up under a pickup truck that was leaking oil real badly. In fact, that's her regular coloring. When Sugar is running or walking, she has about a half-inch of clearance before her chest drags on the ground. Very amusing to watch her run; and rather confusing to Sam...
My girls. Aren't they gorgeous??
Me & my favorite HS senior. Those of you with little bitty kidlings at the house, make sure to enjoy each stage of the journey, for verily, it goes by oh-so-fast...*heavy sigh*
The HS senior with flash directly in her face.
A Boy and his dangerous, killer dog (shhh...Beau the dog [short for "Beauregard"] doesn't know he's a squirt!...*grin*). Beau is a miniature pinscher. Regrettably, as already noted, he (Beau) sometimes doesn't think he's a "miniature" anything...thinks he's a big tough guy. He's a cute as he can be, with a great little sassy personality. BTW, Beau is about as big as he's going to get. He might've added another pound or so, but he'll always look like "Honey, I shrunk the dog..."Beau as a baby. When James first bought him, Beau would fit completely in his hand.
As I say, Beau thinks he's a tough guy. I think he was barking at one of our cats here. Pretty scary & intimidating, huh? *smile*
All played out; he had been all ferocious with Sam's chew toy until he just had to go to sleep. So he did, right where he was. If you ever (God forbid!) find yourself recovering from high-dose IL-2 Immunotherapy you'll need long naps multiple times a day. Get yourself one of these (the dog...not the chew toy); they are great nap-helpers, as shown in this picture. Beau & I took many a nap in my 2 recovery season from IL-2.
As I say, Beau thinks he's a tough guy. I think he was barking at one of our cats here. Pretty scary & intimidating, huh? *smile*All played out; he had been all ferocious with Sam's chew toy until he just had to go to sleep. So he did, right where he was. If you ever (God forbid!) find yourself recovering from high-dose IL-2 Immunotherapy you'll need long naps multiple times a day. Get yourself one of these (the dog...not the chew toy); they are great nap-helpers, as shown in this picture. Beau & I took many a nap in my 2 recovery season from IL-2.
Me & my girls at our house just after my most recent journey to Houston.
One of my all-time favorite pics of James. We were up there for a quick day-trip visit that included visiting with the head football coach (see below). As we were walking by, we noticed that (a) Vaught-Hemingway stadium was open, and (b) nobody was watching the gate. So, naturally, in the interest of academic research, *clears throat* we were compelled to walk onto the field & take a few pictures. Something about forgiveness v. permission...*grin*
Standing in the end zone, near where James & other students encourage the Rebs on home game Saturdays, and...*searches*..."discourage" (yeah, that's a good & kind word...) the visiting team's players at the same time.
Rebel football player Chuckie Mullins was severely injured in the late 80s while making a tackle for the Rebs and never walked again. He lived several more years and was a huge inspiration to many. This is where the Rebs enter the field on game day, walking past Chuckie's "Never Quit" motto.
I don't think this will get me in trouble w/ my alma mater, given the compelling story of Chuckie Mullins, but I'm not sure about that...*smile* Funny, I don't recall putting on the flack jacket under my shirt that day. *sigh* Rest assured, there's less of me now than there was then. Still a work in progress, getting back down to, um, my "playing weight," let's say.
A very, very cool picture of James & me with Rebel head football coach Houston Nutt taken in Coach Nutt's office. My dear friend Eddie Baker had the meeting set up with Coach Nutt for purposes related to our church's Upward flag football program. Eddie invited James & me to tag along; after praying about it for a second and a half, we agreed to go. *smile* I did not tell Coach Nutt that I'm a 3-time Bama grad & lifelong fan of the Crimson Tide; I did wish him well and tell him that James is a junior @ Ole Miss. Whatever one thinks of Coach Nutt is fine; but here's a simple little photo-op that he didn't have to be part of and that will always be viewed as really cool by James & me. James was already a fan since Coach Nutt is now HC of the Rebs; I'm a fan because James is a fan, and because of this photo-op. As I told James, I hope the Rebs go 11-1 every year...*grin* Wait...they lost yesterday, so let's call it 10-2 this year.
Happiness is not having to go here...*points up* (But we are so very grateful for what that place means to us, and what they have done for us this summer)
So, now you know more than you wanted to about how I spent the latter part of my summer vacation. (Hey, at least I didn't include pictures of surgery wounds, IV bags & poles, me in support hose, and other more unsavory images of my summer...*smile*)
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