serious wednesdaysTag Archive -

When we miss the golden eggs.

A few days ago, a friend asked me about an experience that made me want to throw up.

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The comma.

One Easter I got into a bit of a yelling match with a guy in a visor at an Easter egg hunt. The whole thing was exactly how Jesus imagined us honoring that day.

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Getting wrecked by these 2 words.

The other day at Barnes & Noble, my 6-year old daughter L.E. disappeared.

One moment she was sitting in a chair and the next she was gone. It was only for a few seconds but those were some adrenalin drunk seconds. I jumped up and quickly looked down a few aisles until I found her ponytailed head in the science section.

As a dad, that’s a terrifying moment and there is only one word to describe that feeling:

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Thinking size matters.

“Let’s discuss the chapter in the your book, Stuff Christians Like, called ‘Not knowing if we’re supposed to pray for friends having plastic surgery.’”

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Wishing the snakes would quit biting.

“What we’re really doing is turning him into a drug addict.”

That is my favorite sentence from a recent article about an escaped monkey loose in Tampa, Florida. Apparently, every time animal control hits this monkey with tranquilizer darts he just shrugs them off and keeps running around down town. He’s become a bit of a local celebrity and has his own facebook page, which lists one of his hobbies as “Messin’ with the popo.”

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Boomerangs.

I only shaved a vanilla Ice inspired “rap stripe” in my eyebrow once.

I only almost killed myself skateboarding once.

I only got busted by the police for shoplifting once.

If I think about it, there are a handful of mistakes I have only made once. But for the most part, if I am honest, I tend to boomerang a lot of my sins. I’d like them to be “one and done,” an action that’s undertaken one time and then forever forsaken, but often I come back for a second go round.

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Mice in our couches.

“We found a family of mice that nested inside the cushions of your couch, so we need to throw it away.”

That was what a woman on a recent television show said to a homeowner. This is the moment where the homeowner says, “Wow, I had no idea. Gross, a whole family? Ugh, let’s throw that out.” But because the show I was watching is called “Hoarders,” that wasn’t the response she gave. Instead, the old woman whose home was on the borders of being condemned said simply,

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Throwing up.

Last Sunday was one of the worst days of my life.

I can say with very little Kent Brockman hyperbole that Sunday, February 14th will live forever on my top ten list of worst days ever.

Why?

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Worrying about talent.

Chances are, we’ve never met. We’ve never hung out or read comic books together or played racquetball. (Which Brian Regan calls the only sport in which you can be looking at the ball and get hit in the back of the head at exactly the same moment.)

But despite that, I do know at least one thing about you. I know that at some point, you’ve doubted that you had the talent to do whatever it is you feel called to do. Even if you don’t have a shadow of a doubt that you’re supposed to be doing what ever your “it” is, doubt creeps in. And so you don’t feel talented enough to be the one doing it.

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Hope.

“Promise me if you go on the Daily Show with Jon Stewart, you’ll take me so I can sit in the audience.”

This is my father’s only request when it comes to the book release of Stuff Christians Like. I’ve never been on television. Two people attended the only meet and greet I’ve held. I’ve been assured by one of the biggest publishers in the world that Christian humor books simply do not sell. But I think that parents are required by DNA to hope. To believe that anything is possible if not down right probable.

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