Matt's Musings

From the high school archives

2010-07-11T13:44:00.000-07:00

Recently I was cleaning up old files on my computer, and in doing so found a story I had written in high school. I'm not even sure how this file still exists, but somehow it made its way from a floppy disc and through several other computers to my current laptop. Anyway, this was the result of an assignment for my AP English class. It's certainly written by a high schooler, but amusing nonetheless...it's also the only fiction piece I've ever written.

I got a kick out of reading it...maybe you will too.

April 2002

I've always hated funerals. Seems like long ago I was told that when a man dies, his life was supposed to be celebrated, not mourned. I especially hate this funeral; even though it is for my hero. As the preacher gives the eulogy, I look around. Family and friends whom I see only on an occasion such as this are sobbing uncontrollably. I can't bring myself to grieve. Perhaps that is because I'm 84 years old, and I know I may not be far behind Lawrence. Perhaps it is because I know that he wouldn't want me to. He'd want me to be strong, but more importantly, he'd want me to celebrate what he did in his life, not long for his return. Lawrence James Callahan was the oldest of 6 boys. That leaves me, Merle Robert Callahan, the oldest left.

We were born into a poor, but loving family in Craig County Virginia. Daddy was a preacher at the Craig Church of Christ, and Mama took care of her 6 children, so money wasn't plentiful, but we got by. We never got big birthday presents, but when each of us turned 18, Daddy bought us a knife and had our initials engraved in the back. Getting that knife was almost like a rite of passage to adulthood for the Callahan boys. Lawrence was always ambitious, so he enrolled in the military at in 1858 at age 18. I had always looked up to my brother. My father was my role model, but Lawrence was who I wanted to be like. Mama and Daddy always taught us to look out for one another, and we did. At the schoolhouse, or anywhere we were, we looked after our 4 younger brothers, but for each other also. If there was ever a scrap between one of the Callahan boys and another kid, look out, because there's bound to be 5 other Callahans coming. Lawrence and I always said we'd put our lives on the line for one another, though neither of us ever thought that would ever actually happen, we did mean it. Lawrence went off to the Army, and I was ready to do the same on my 18th birthday. But, between the time Lawrence went off, and I was ready to join, the country got in a big uproar. The South seceded from the Union, and the Civil War began. Daddy talked about how it was important to defend our home, and how we were fighting for state's rights. I wasn't exactly sure of the political side of it, but I knew that I had to defend my home. Lawrence had been gone for some time now, and Daddy hadn't been well, so I had been looking after the family. I couldn't turn my back on Daddy, Mama, and my 4 younger brothers. General Lee himself, in his resignation from the Union Army said that he found it impossible to turn his back on his home and family, even though he agreed with some of the politics of the North. I had to defend my home, but what about Lawrence? He was fighting against me. How could he stay there? Years later he told me that he couldn't fight for a cause he didn't believe in. He was against slavery, and I reckon so was I; we sure didn't have any, and nobody I knew did either. Maybe we were just too poor, but all I knew was my homeland was being attacked, and I had to defend it.

The war was gruesome, but our spirits were high. I fought in the 41st Virginia under Col. John R. Chambliss who led our militia with expertise and a firm fist. We loved our Generals. Jefferson Davis may have been president, but General Lee was the most revered man in the Confederacy. The war took me all across the south. We walked a lot and fought a little, but the when we did fight, it was terrible. Battles drove me to my end, physically, and mentally. We all thought the war would be over soon though. The North seemed to be getting weaker, and we thought we were getting stronger, so to us, victory seemed to be coming. I sent letter after letter back home, letting the family know how the war was going, and that I was ok. All this time though, I wondered about Lawrence. I assumed he was ok; as far as the war goes, no news is good news. He was going through the same thing I was. So many times in battle, I wished that I could have my brother jump in and throw a few licks for me. I also wanted to do the same for him. Our youth was over, and I longed for those days.

It was July 1, 1863 and the war took me to Vicksburg, Mississippi. The North had been giving us quite a drubbing, and we were summoned. Right away we were in battle. The North was still putting it to us, but I thought sure we would triumph. Battle started at sunup on the second of July, and Col. Chaimbliss moved us in. The opposition was ready. Before I knew it, shots were all around me. I had never been in this sort of peril before. All around men were down, screaming for their lives, pleading for help. To my left I saw my friend James Hill. He had been shot in the back and was down. I had to answer his cries for help, he was like a brother to me, I always had to look after my brothers. I quickly moved to where I could aid him, but in doing that, I put myself in more danger. A sharp pain came in my stomach, and I fell to the ground. I had been shot! I lay face up at the bright Mississippi sky, knowing that I would die. Fear did not take hold of me, nor was my pain taking my attention. All I could do was lie there and think of home; of my parents, and of my brothers. I kept drifting in and out of consciousness, and wondering which breath would be my last. Footsteps were upon me, and I barely heard, "Merle?! Merle?!" I had no idea who it was, and didn't find out because I again lost consciousness.

I woke up. I woke up! If it were possible for a man to think he is dead, I sure thought I was dead. For the next several minutes I sat there and took in my sensory feelings like a sponge takes in water. Life! Never had a breath tasted so sweet, and never in my 84 years did it again. A medic came to me and proceeded to tell me of my own miraculous survival. He told me that a Union soldier hand run up to our camp while carrying me (which was only about 400 yards from where I got shot) and sat me down. The medic said that they had no idea who the soldier was, but after he put me down some of the other Confederates shot at him and he ran off. "One other thing," he said, we found this on you. He handed me an old battered knife. Upon examining it, I thought it was the knife my Daddy had given me years ago, but I remembered that I didn't take it to war with me. I turned to the back and read the encryption: "LJC" Lawrence James Callahan! My brother had risked his own life to try to save mine. Lawrence crossed Confederate lines , to save an "enemy." He couldn't know if I was going to make it, but he tried his best to help me, and he saved my life. That was my last battle in the Civil War. I was honorably discharged after being wounded in battle. As for my brother, he fought till the end of the war, but not after being promoted several times. When the war ended in 1865 he was a colonel. I owed my life to Lawrence. What is so hard today is I still feel that I owe him. Time and time again as we've grown old, he has said that I never had to make up for it, and that he knew that I would have done the same for him. I would have too, but I never had the chance. From the day I was released from the hospital to the day Lawrence died, I tried to find a way to repay him. Though I could always get him gifts and material items, I couldn't do anything near the magnitude of what he did for me. I always wanted a chance to risk my life for him. As his casket is lowered, and the guns are fired, I cannot grieve. I hold in my hand a knife that has the encryption "LJC" on the back, and I cannot think of anything, but of his heroic effort. To mourn would be to dishonor him because when he saw me at near death, he acted, and saved my life. I then must act. Though I'm 84, my tongue still works, and I can tell of the utmost brotherly love.

A Time To Listen

2010-03-26T12:58:00.001-07:00

I have days when I feel like valuable thoughts and reflections drop from my mind like torrential rain. Then I have days when I feel like valuable thoughts and reflections are meant for someone else entirely...that profoundity and substance are my antonyms and I'd do well to just get through the day without thinking. For several months I've been mired in a season marked by the latter.

My default settings place a lot value on being able to share my thoughts. I'm not entirely sure why this is, but it's sure true. Whenever I have nothing to share, when I have no observations (whether humorous or insightful) or musings, I feel like somehow I'm falling behind in life. Part of it could be that I've spent so much time over the years in preaching roles. From the time I was 18 until I was 25 I was preaching on a regular basis, so I've had plenty of moments where, if I didn't have anything to share, then I actually was failing at my job (as I saw it at least).

Now, I feel a bit different. I've not had much to share, and I think it's because God has been telling me to just listen instead of comment. The past two months I've witnessed a great deal of tragedy. In February, I spent a few days in Haiti, which still had fresh wounds from the January earthquake. Nearly a quarter million people died, and a million displaced as a result of 40 horrific seconds. On March 12, John Hamilton, a friend and NMSI affiliate died from a blood clot after a few weeks of battling heart issues. John was only in his early fifties and left behind his wife and 4 year old daughter. Less than a week later, Kylee Boden, another good friend and NMSI affiliate passed away due to complications during childbirth (their baby boy is healthy). Kylee leaves behind her husband, Matt and their 4 children.

Instead of sharing words to encourage others or make sense of it all, I've felt God saying to just listen. Listen to how his people are reacting to their heartbreak...see the Haitian churches rise up, witness believers gather around the Hamiltons to love and care for them...listen to Matt Boden and his amazing resolve and trust.

So my heart aches for Haiti...it hurts deeply for Matt and Alyona who lost their spouses, and it cries for Sasha, Seth, Lydia, Sarai, and baby Caleb who have all lost a loving, Godly parent...in a world with a dearth of good parents. For now, though, I'll just listen and learn...no drawing conclusions or tying up loose ends.

2009 In Review: Triumph, Tragedy, and Everything in Between

2010-01-22T21:48:00.000-08:00

My blogging has been excessively delinquent over the past few months...please accept my apologies.

Life has recently moved a a frenetic pace...so much so that my boss made me take a day to

simply spend time in the woods to think, pray, read, write, and process. In that day I realized that I haven't stopped moving since September. And I enjoy that...the working, recruiting, traveling, speaking, etc. The problem is, though, I've done a lot of living, but I've not reflected on life...I haven't stopped and listened to God. One thing I learned in my day of solitude, is that I wanted to write a review of 2009 similar to my review of 2008 (I've also considered review of the 2000s...could be a project for later).

Without further adieu...in 2009 I: (by the way, there are links throughout)

*Rang in the new year in Knoxville with the Bryants and the old JBC crew.

*Created, with Mikey Krepps the band "Don't Blink"

*Spent a weekend in New York city with 4 of my closest friends. Flight, hotel, and rental car: $120/person...the weekend was legendary

*Attempted to go to Super Bowl XLIII (to no avail), but instead watched my beloved Steelers win their record 6th Super Bowl at a wing joint in Tampa with Ryan.

*Spent a week in Haiti building church benches with a group of men in their 60s and 70s.

*Had a hit (sort of) video on youtube.

*Took a recruiting road trip from Fort Myers to Charlotte with Ty and Amy...and in the middle of the night on the side of I-75 ended my 13 year old streak of not vomiting. (I'm sure you love reading this one)

*Flew to Knoxville to spend a random weekend with Chris and Emily just because I missed em.

*Had mom and dad come visit for Easter...

*Had the privilege of spending two weeks teaching a course on the book of Acts at Ggaba Bible Institute in Kampala, Uganda

*Left much of my heart in Tennessee as I flew to Kenya to spend 2 months with 3 terrific interns

*Taught 6th grade math for 3 weeks in the Kenyan bush

*Received a goat on behalf of the community of Morloo, Kenya

*Learned how to "minus a neck" on a chicken

*Proved to several Kenyans, during a 30km 'nature hike' that white people can, in fact, walk more than 3 kilometers without passing out.

*Fell in love with Fanta Citrus

*Climbed a mountain and turned around

*Witnessed a group of children from a remote village (our school in Morloo) in a major singing/dancing competition.

*Didn't get stuck in this window

*Looked at the stars and sang "Yellow" about 30 times with my interns

*Stood in a safari van while staring at a herd of cape buffalo, and, over the phone, had the last conversation I'd ever have with my best friend

*Led 2 funeral services for Chris...I cannot describe the experience...

*Came back to Florida...and, again, left my heart in Tennessee

*Started on plans for 2010

*Was blessed to get a new (to me) car...for free! (courtesy of my brother) It's a Saab of course...my 4th

*Had a blast at Raynor (fellow team-K 2006 member) and Josh's wedding.

*Danced at a Spanish hip-hop concert

*Spent the entire month of October on the road recruiting with Adam, Kristy, and Bri

*Made my yearly pilgrimmage to Neyland Stadium

*Went to my 2nd National Missionary Convention

*Went to a family reunion in Atlanta

*Played at several open-mic nights.

*Enjoyed The Office a little too much

*Spent Christmas with my family...and it was great

*Ended the year at the Urbana conference with 17,000+ college students

*Said goodbye (and good riddance) to 2009 at a bowling alley in St. Louis with Ryan, Derek, and Misty.

In 20 years I'll remember plenty from 2009, but to me, it will always be remembered as the year that the we lost Chris Morgan. Emily lost her husband, Gracie lost her dad, I lost a brother/friend (as did many, many others), and Kenneth/Sue, Morgan/Kathy, and Bob/Carol all lost a son. Maybe one of these days it'll all make sense, but I'm not expecting that to come in 2010...and that's ok...knowing why isn't my job. Instead, I'll be ok with that uncertainty because of my certainty that Chris is doing just fine...way better than any of us. And regardless of what 2010 brings, in the end, I'll be just fine too.

Even so....maybe it's just me...but 2010 sure seems considerably less funny and lacking a staggering amount of loyalty compared to any of the other years I've known.

Goodbye, 2009.

Chris, my brother...I'll see you later.

Road Trip- by the numbers

2009-11-07T12:20:00.000-08:00

For the past month I've basically lived in a 2000 Nissan minivan.

One of the biggest part of my job at NMSI is recruiting...I mean, it's pretty hard to plan internship projects when you don't have any interns. So to promote our internship programs and to strengthen NMSI's relationships with colleges and universities, four of us embarked on a month long road trip. Here's how it went down:

6347: Number of miles rolled up on the previously mentioned Nissan van

129: Number of contact cards filled out by students or interested parties. (I have a lot of emails to write)

100+: Number of hours we spent driving from one location to the next. (I'm not really sure how much over the + we are, but it's a lot...we based our guess off destination to destination...not including in town driving)

23: Number of pizzas purchased for college students

21: Number of colleges/universities visited

17: Number of states visited

11: Number of sports venues we saw/passed.

9: Number of churches visited

8: Number of homes we stayed in

5: Number of state capitals visited

5: Number of dorms we stayed in

2: Number of times we were pulled over. Once for a "courtesy warning" for failing to signal, and once for speeding on a straight back road in Ohio with a 35mph limit. (I'm still a little bitter about that one)

2: Number of conferences attended

1: Number of computers fried due to a power surge

This trip was a great adventure, though I'm glad to finally be in one place for a while...I think...

26 thoughts for 26 years

2009-10-07T16:32:00.000-07:00

I woke up today as a 26 year old...first time I've ever done that! Last night, Scott, my brother in law asked me what I knew now that I didn't know on my 25th birthday. Thoughts ranging from "you're allowed to pay for a toll with pennies in New Jersey" to "teaching in Uganda completely changed my view of education," flew through my head. The answer I gave him was "Each year I become more aware of how much I don't know...with greater knowledge comes greater knowledge of your own relative ignorance."

I figure that since I'm now officially closer to 30 than I am 20 (really, that seems weird to say) I should have some nuggets of wisdom to share with the world. So here goes...26 thoughts for 26 years!

(by the way, some are serious, some...not so much)

1. The more places I go, the more I see the merits of home.

2a. If you ever call a restaurant to make reservations and upon taking your reservations, the person on the other end chuckles and says "um...sure...yea, we can do that," beware of said restaurant.

2b. If the restaurant is called "Squatters" you should have probably known better in the first place.

3. The life of a Pelican > all other birds. Think about it...you live at the beach, all the seafood you can eat, you float nicely, you're chill, and you can sit around and make jokes about idiot seagulls with your other pelican buddies.

4. We should all aspire to be as loyal as our dogs.

5. Standing on the steps of the courthouse in Tuscaloosa, Alabama and saying "Get over it guys, the Bear died 25 years ago," is taking your life into your own hands.

6. Never take your family or friends for granted. Appreciate every moment you're together.

7. If you can't dance...do it anyway...nobody cares.

8. Bears, Beets, Battlestar Galactica.

9. "Choose what you want most over what you want now."

10. Two South Korean boys, 1 from Senegal, one from Jersey, and one from Seymour, Tennessee can make a fine offensive line.

11. Going to Wal-Mart or Waffle House at 3:30AM is completely acceptable and needs no explanation

12. Some people are fat...and that's ok.

13. When stuck in a Kenyan bathroom and you have to decide between a dollar and a bank statement, go with the bank statement...especially if your dollar consists of 3 quarters, 2 dimes, and a nickel (buh-dum-cha!)

14. Never attempt to jump into a garbage truck...you'll just get a concussion and lose a lot of blood.

15. The ocean heals and the stars demand your awe.

16. Church buildings are no more than stone, steel, and wood just like any other building. The ocean and stars are God expressing himself to us...man made things are our efforts to capture him. Nothing wrong with that, it's just not nature...God in the raw.

17. If you stumble across Roman ruins in the middle of the night, climbing the fence to enter is not necessary. The gate is probably open anyway.

18. Fat guys can run half marathons.

19. Japanese cars are the most reliable, American cars have the best air conditioners, and European cars are for true car lovers.

20. A half a box of croutons can occasionally pass as lunch (though this may have been the low point of my bachelorhood).

21. If there's no snow on Christmas...and there are kids around that want to go sledding...finding a hill, a kiddie pool, and flinging the kids down the hill in the kiddie pool is an adequate substitution.

22. Take care of the outcasts, the lonely, the ones that are constantly the butt of jokes...listen, care, and respect.

23. Safari ants+your pants=exactly what you'd expect.

24. There is no greater entertainment value than "Bring Your Own Weapon Night" at $5 semi-pro wrestling. A broken neon sign. A flying porcelin sink. Few teeth. Many bald eagle tattoos. I started a "loser cuts the mullet" chant. High comedy, great entertainment.

25. Seeking God and trying to understand him is the wisest thing a man can do.

26. Thinking you've figured him out is the most foolish.

Thanks for reading...here's to having better things to share at 27

Blogless

2009-10-06T21:43:00.000-07:00

If you keep up with my blog, you've probably noticed that I haven't updated in over a month. It's not like I went without a bloggable thought in the month of September, I just haven't written any of those.

I've had a few newsworthy items, some semi-deep thoughts, and a couple of humorous musings, but haven't brought myself to actually writing them.

Here's why...

I've still been wrapping my mind around the loss of Chris and haven't wanted to share it all. Now, I could have been writing about entirely different subjects, but that's not really me.

Though I often write about indulgent nonsense, I still write about what's on the forefront of my heart/mind...be it legitimate concerns, deep feelings or merely indulgent nonsense.

Losing my friend has been on the forefront of my heart/mind for the past few months, and I haven't wanted to publish those thoughts...maybe some of em later...just not now...

So, the blogging resumes...not saying I have it all figured out, or ever will, I'm just going to start sharing my thoughts in this way again.

First shared thought:

Tonight, TBS ran a marathon of "The Office" followed by the "Serenity Now" episode of Seinfeld...I think Ted Turner sent me a birthday present...so thanks Ted Turner...I stayed up til 3 am thanks to your late night programming!

Boma Tour!

2009-08-24T12:22:00.000-07:00

During the summer, we had the privilege of staying 3 nights in Maasai homes. Follow Elise as she gives a tour of a home where we stayed...

Rocky Top-Kenyan Style

2009-08-23T12:43:00.000-07:00

Over the next few days I'll be posting a variety of pictures, thoughts, and videos from my summer in Kenya...this is the first of these posts.

Every week, it seems, I see something about Tim Tebow doing a form of mission work overseas. I think it's great, and I applaud him honoring God with his fame. He just makes one mistake...Tim teaches all these kids that ridiculous Gator backwards clap...such a shame! Now there are all these kids who have learned the wrong way to clap and will certainly be mocked if they should ever travel abroad!

To combat this internationally, I decided to teach my standard 5 class how to sing "Rocky Top." Bringing a little extra culture to the nations right? I couldn't resist.

I made this with the intention that it would be just for Chris...I'm sad that he never did...somewhere he's smiling about it...

Chris is home

2009-08-07T21:10:00.000-07:00

In case you've not already heard...

Thursday evening about 6:00 PM, Chris passed away.

I was on the road, headed from Kingsport to Knoxville in a rush. Emily had called me just before, saying to get there as soon as possible...Chris didn't have much longer.

As we reached I-40 the phone rang and I knew immediately...Sue, Chris's mom simply said "Matt, he's gone."

Losing him isn't easy...it's not easy for any of us here...especially for Emily. But I can honestly say that I'm at peace because he's not suffering.

Chris had two homes...Kingsport and Maryville, so we'll have services in both places

The first will be in at First Christian Church in Kingsport on Monday the 10th. Visitation will be from 6-7 with the service following.

In Maryville, we'll be at Madison Avenue Baptist Church on Saturday the 15th at 3:30 in the afternoon.

In my previous post, you read of God speaking to me through the song "Fix You." In the moment my phone rang with the news awaiting, we were listening to that very song in the car. I don't know how much clearer God could be...He fixed Chris.

What I never wanted to write- update on Chris

2009-08-06T07:50:00.000-07:00

This is an update on my best friend Chris Morgan...an update I never wanted to write.

About a year ago, Chris began his fight with brain cancer. Encouraged by the support of his family and myriad of loving friends, and strengthened by his unwavering faith in Jesus, Chris battled with titanic courage. Despite setbacks and struggles, Chris continued to fight. Before his third operation he was confronted with the fact that the procedure could render his left side motionless. Chris didn't care. He kept on...all with a positive attitude.

Three brain operations in one year has just been too much for his body to endure. My heart breaks to write this, but the time has come. He's not responding to treatment and his body is spent. Now it's time for him to be comfortable, to rest, and to go home. The doctors estimate now that it will be a matter of days.

The news is devastating for Emily, for Gracie, his baby girl, for his family, and for the rest of us. We want him here...we don't know how to handle what comes next. And on our own, we can't.

My heart breaks for Emily and Gracie and his family...and he's always been beyond a friend to me...he's a true brother...so my heart also breaks for me.

I have no profound or insightful take on this...my heart just hurts. So let me tell you of a moment when God spoke to me about Chris...

Back in December, Chris had his second operation, and I was afraid then that we were going to lose him. I caught a flight to Knoxville to be by his side and as my the plane was landing, God had something to say to me.

I fell asleep listening to my ipod, thus not turning it off as the plane landed. The wheels hit the runway and I awakened to the sound of "Fix You" by Coldplay playing through my headphones. My stomach then sunk with the reality of the situation...my best friend's life was on the line. As the song continued I heard:

"High up above or down below, when you're too in love to let it go"

And I thought, yea...I'm not willing to let him go...and neither is anyone else. He deserves to be here...his wife needs him, his baby girl needs him, we all need him.

It continues:

"And I will try, to fix you."

Then I kept saying to God, "Fix him...fix him!! Fix his body! I know that doctors can't, God but you can fix him! Please Lord...fix my friend."

The lyrics progressed:

"Tears stream, down your face, when you lose something you cannot replace."

I said to God "He's not replaceable...don't take him. He cannot be replaced."

And then the conclusion of the song:

"Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones, and I will try to fix you."

At that point, God said to me: "Matt, I've already fixed him."

He's right. Jesus already fixed him. Chris is ok. He was fixed the day that he gave his life to Christ...he's been fixed ever since. His body was broken then and is more broken now...but so is your body and mine...we're all broken.

In the end those bodies don't matter...the Father of lights will guide him home.

God gave me that solace in December, and 8 months later as he's on the cusp of seeing that glorious home...it remains.

I'm not used to this...I'm used to being on the other end...listening to someone share of a loss, my heart breaking for them and feeling useless and helpless-both are difficult. So in reading this, you may feel the same way. But you can help. Here's what you can do.

1. Pray for Emily, Grace, and his family.

2. Send Emily letters of love and encouragement and share stories and memories of Chris with her. To do so, write on the guestbook at his caringbridge page at: http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/chrismorgan

3. In lieu of flowers, send a contribution. For information on how to do so, contact me.

To conclude, paul said it well:

Now we see things imperfectly as in a cloudy mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely. 1 Corinthians 13:12

Car Shopping... the Glorious Injustice

2009-08-03T19:22:00.000-07:00

I'm a car guy...have been for as long as I could be called a guy and not a boy. I come by it honestly, my dad has always had cool cars...none of them were expensive, just cool. So from childhood I always appreciated a good car...one that stands out among the drudgery of Chevy Cavaliers, Ford Tauruses, Toyota Camrys, and Honda Civics overwhelming the road.

So now, here I am 25 years old, and need a car. My old car (a sort of cool 97 Saab 900s) bit the dust in April and I sold it in May. Understanding that I have a limited budget ($4500 max), and need something both economical and reliable, I've prepared myself to cross the line between cool car (something European/rare) and mundane. I've even accepted the idea that I could be driving an American car, which I usually find to be entirely inferior to their Japanese and European counterparts.

With those things in mind I set off today, feeling like I'd find a gem.

My optimism was soon quelled...

A local dealer had a 1997 Nissan Maxima for sale. It was loaded up, in great shape, and 100,000 miles. Mildly cool car, but still bland. Even so, bland often equals reliable so I felt good about finding something mildly cool (not to mention it had leather seats and all the bells and whistles that my Saabs have had).

I'm no dummy...I came in armed with the knowledge that the value of this car, even in it's exquisite condition is $4000. Considering that I'm a wheeler and dealer and a generally likable guy, I figured $3500.

Now for the gory details...
The salesman and I were walking to the car and the following transaction took place:

Salesman: Matt, what are you looking to spend
Me: Under 5k
Salesman: *Silence* Well, um, we should probably not even look at this car
Me: *confused* Huh?
Salesman: The price is $8700 but our Internet price is $7900
Me: What? Really? This is a $4000 car! (I was a little off...but not much)
Salesman: Yes, but it's really nice.
Me: *half confused half incredulous* I know you're not the sales manager, but why is it so much?
Salesman: Where else are you going to find a 97 Maxima with only 100,000 miles?
Me: It's 12 years old! I can find a 12 year old car with 100,000 miles anywhere
Salesman: Yea but it's really nice.
Me: Goodness..you're asking almost 9 grand! Your competitor down the road has a 2000 Saab 9-3 Viggen for 9 grand.
Salesman: What's that?
Me: *shaking my head* A souped up Saab...very rare car...new it was over $40k. (not to mention it's definitely cool)
Salesman: *blank stare*
Me: Nevermind...you're asking double it's value.
Salesman: But it's really nice.

I was dumbfounded. The sad thing is, some poor sap who doesn't know better will go in and pay 7 grand for that car. He'll be surprised by the clean leather, responsive engine, and various features and make a terrible financial decision.

For the next several hours, I scoured the town for the perfect ride. Unfortunately, the only cars in my price range fell into one of these categories:

Has Beens: cars that were once nice, but were maintained by either vikings or bears
Trash: cars that were never good...the day they left the factory they were as quality as a week old gas station cheeseburger
Beaters: ripped seats, no a/c, and a slipping transmission. "Honest Bill" says it was owned by his late grandmother

I feel simultaneously rich and utterly broke with my $3500

So the search continues. I'm stubborn. Really stubborn. I won't be ripped off and I still want to toe the line between responsible purchase and cool car.

I could get a Land Rover Discovery...which is about an 8 on the cool chart. But considering their terrible reliability record and ghastly 16 mpg, it's about a 1 on the responsibility chart.

I could get a Ford Taurus...as cool as Rick Astley...as responsible as Aunt Bea

Anyway...for all of you who have fought and lost...that have succumbed to the agony of car shopping and relented to paying for rust proofing...that have driven off in a car you liked for 2 weeks...I'm gonna win one for us all.

Back in the US

2009-07-28T18:06:00.000-07:00

Jambosana rafiki! (hello friends) After two months in Kenya, I've safely returned to the US. My time in Kenya was remarkable...affirming and encouraging. Thanks to all who prayed for our team this summer, we were blessed with safety and provision throughout. Anytime a man leads a team of 3 girls, extra prayer is needed for all parties...turns out boys and girls are different! Our team functioned wonderfully...the ladies had terrific attitudes and made my job an easy one. I was blessed to have the privilege of leading them.

Over the next few days, I'll be posting about a variety of topics regarding summer 2009. I have a ton of things to share and I can't fit them into one blog. Instead, I'd like your help! If you have a question (specific or general) or topic (specific or broad) that you'd like to hear about, please email me (mhickman@nmsi.org) or contact me any other way. These can be serious, completely absurd, or anywhere in between (for example: I'd be glad to discuss the generosity of the Maasai, the beauty of the scenery, or the fun I had watching chickens & donkeys). I intend to write 10 posts about this summer, so please send the ideas/questions/requests in. Thanks in advance!

For now, here are a couple of pictures from the summer to whet your appetite for Kenya stories...

Vintage Land Rovers and ipods

2009-07-11T13:42:00.000-07:00

Today I feel old...not because my knees creak a little more than they used to, not because my clean shaven face reveals a wrinkle or two, not because I now reflect on the proverbial "good ole days," and not because I now check the 25-39 demographic box. But for a moment today, I've identified with things of the past...a time before I was born, void of ESPN and long before Facebook. For a considerable amount of time today, I drove our group around in a 1965 Land Rover, a vehicle built like a fort with the amenities of a tricycle. No power steering, no power brakes, no working telemetry, and a whopping 80 horsepower at my disposal to propel the behemoth over roads that even the Lonely Planet Guide to Kenya describes as "detestable." Strangely, I enjoyed the adventure thoroughly. As other scurried around in town in modern Toyotas and newer buses and compact cars, I reveled in my ability to maneuver such a vehicle in forward and backward in tight spaces. Aside from the continuous "atta boys" in my head, I felt a sense of accomplishment for merely driving. This was merely transportation...driving from point a to point b, not the luxury it has been for me in the past with a sunroof, Sirius radio, cruise control, A/C and 80 mph speeds. This 1965 Land Rover on unpaved roads was hardly luxury...it required full attention, 4WD, and some creativity. It all fit.

Hours later, I relaxed for the day and listened to my ipod (perhaps the mascot of the 2000s) and turned it on shuffle. A mix of artists began...first Coldplay, the Fray, and Matchbox 20, and then James Taylor, Jackson Browne, and the Beatles. Though I'm a huge fan of Coldplay, I related more to the youthful (when written) musings of Taylor, Browne, and the Fab 4. Browne didn't know how he ended up where he was in life, Taylor missed an old friend, and the Beatles bemoaned the futility of money. Sitting on a musty couch in Africa after just reading a letter from my mom summed up my life much better than any of the newer artists. Maybe I was born at the wrong time? Given to the wrong ear? Perhaps. Maybe I just like old cars and old music. Either way, today, 1965 feels like part of my past and the 2010s seem no nearer than a colony om Mars.

Initial thoughts from Kenya

2009-06-07T13:13:00.000-07:00

A full week has passed since we arrived in Kenya. The beauty of this place is as I remember...sweeping plains, distant mountains, dusty-pitted roads all dotted with exotic wildlife. I've been staying in a wooden shack with a concrete floor...simple for sure, but the view is breathtaking. A green plain slowly descends for several kilometers until it turns into a small valley, where it then gently ascends to the feet of sloping mountains. Along the way, shrubs, trees, and the occasional herd of cattle join the landscape.

We're in the village of Morloo, and the people here have been amazingly hospitable- offering their chai and their thanks at every opportunity...we're so blessed to be here.

Even so, much of the magic of the place has departed for me. Before, on my first visit, all these things were mysterious and romantic. Now, I'm just...here. Over the past three years it seems that Kenya, at least this part of it, has not really changed...I sure have.

And it's all ok...I'm happy to be here...and thankful to know that I was supposed to go here three years go, and that I'm supposed to be here now...but wasn't supposed to move here. Confirmation is freedom from wondering "what if?"

From a Kenyan Internet Cafe

2009-06-03T00:55:00.000-07:00

Hey everyone!

We made it safely to Kenya last Friday night... had no difficulty with flights, grumpiness, or anything else!

Later today we head off to the bush to the town of Morloo. (pronounced mor-low) We'll spend 3 weeks there teaching, preaching, building relationships, and helping out however we can. Please pray that our presence is a blessing to the Masai people and that God uses us for his purpose.

In addition to this Kenya team, we sent out teams to 5 other locations around the world. Please join with us in prayer for them.

To see a more detailed update from team Kenya and to see updates for all NMSI intern teams, visit:

http://www.nmsi.org/interns.aspx

Thanks so much for your love and support...my next update won't be until we return from the bush at the end of the month...until then...

Love,
Matt

Team Kenya 2009

2009-05-26T10:08:00.000-07:00

Update from PFO

2009-05-26T09:44:00.000-07:00

Last Day of Teaching

2009-05-07T09:43:00.000-07:00

After 9 days at a frenetic pace of study, we finished the book of Acts this afternoon. As the we concluded, I read from the first Chapter, verses 4-8 where Jesus is quoted:

"Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised, which you have heard me speak about. 5For John baptized with water, but in a few days you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit."
6So when they met together, they asked him, "Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?"
7He said to them: "It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority. 8But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."the commission Jesus give to his Apostles, to be his witnesses to Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."

We then compared this with the conclusion in chapter 28 where Paul is in Rome boldly teaching the gospel "without hindrance." Throughout the book we saw all that Jesus commanded come true. The Spirit came at Penetcost and the apostles were his witnesses to all these places. As for the 2nd coming? We don't know the times and dates any more than the apostles did. So...we're waiting and serving as witnesses...just like the apostles.

At that, the class applauded. Not for me, I deserve none...but for this great work, penned by Luke, inspired by the Holy Spirit.

Reflections to come...

The best I can do at the moment

2009-05-06T15:50:00.000-07:00

Warning!!! Late night ramblings...may contain randomness, idiocy, and disconnectedness.

So right now it's 1:55 am Uganda time...meaning it's 6:55 pm at home...but, yea I'm still up. I've been sitting at this table for hours, maintaining a minimal, but steady sweat. As hot as Uganda is...Florida is way worse. I know I live in Florida, and I know I've complained a lot (more than I complain about anything else), but the more places I go the more I'm convinced that Florida in the summer is the worst place on earth.

The heat and humidity wrest your breath from your lungs, turn it to moisture, and return it as sweat on your brow.

But now I'm not in Florida, I'm in Uganda and the past week has been amazing. I have so many thoughts running through my head. They range from of great importance (theology, missions, the church) to significant (simplicity of life, what will the next few years hold) to irrelevant (beans & rice, Turbo-Diesel Mitsubishi Pajeros, the chord progression for "Crash" by Dave Matthews).

All that to say, I am full of reflections but currently without the mental organization to process them. Eventually it'll be sorted out and you'll read about my questioning of the idea of systematic theology as a whole and my heart for the American church. (ooh! I think that was a "teaser")

As for other things....

Tonight I had several great conversations w/ friends via Skype. Is it bad that I'm thankful for the technology we have? I think it's not. I'm blessed with great friends...you guys support me, laugh with me, roll your eyes at me when it's needed, and care about my well being. So I'm thankful for what keeps me in touch with you.

All the time I think about Chris...he's battling cancer and I'm praying for him constantly. Please take a moment to pray for him too.
...
...
...
I wasn't kidding.
...
...
...
Thanks...if you know him personally, send him a message.

So just a few minutes ago I finished writing the final exam for the Acts class. All things considered, I'm pretty proud of the exam. Though, I'm finally sympathizing with my former professors who would be aghast by their students lack of knowledge on a relatively rudimentary subject.

I remember being clueless in Old Testament Poetry class and Doc Reese being semi-flustered that his students weren't getting the difference between anthropomorphisms and anthropopothisms. (for the record, I spelled each of those correctly on the first try...I have never been so impressed with myself at 2:22 AM)

Anyway, I'm up too late, have to get up too early, and have been saying things that may or may not make sense...that's my cue to end this
Matt

Weekend pt. 2...The Source of the Nile Marathon

2009-05-03T09:38:00.000-07:00

About a month ago Jeff, my gracious host, told me about a 1/2 marathon along the Nile, taking place on May 3. He said if I was up for it, he'd sign us up. Now, Jeff is an avid runner...one of these guys who wakes up at 5 am and runs 6 miles at a sub 8 minute pace every day. I'm a much more casual runner. I run every now and then in the evening, for however long I can stand it and whatever pace I feel like. Sometimes this is 8 miles at a good kick, sometimes it's 2 miles almost walking.

I'm not in 1/2 marathon shape at the moment, but fortunately, they also offered a 10k...so...I said giddyup! Considering that my previous "running diary" blog was a hit, I decided to go for it again.

5:00 AM: Alarm goes off.

5:01 AM: Realize my alarm is going off...but have no idea why

5:02 AM: Remember that we have a 2 hour drive to get to the race...climb out of bed

5:03 AM: Stand in a stupor and suppress angry thoughts

5:10 AM: Take anti malaria medication while continuing to suppress thoughts...

5:17 AM: Jump in the Land Cruiser w/ Jeff and roll out

5:19 AM: Jeff chooses Coldplay...always a good decision.

6:00 AM: Roll through the Ugandan countryside in the pitch dark

6:01 AM: Mention something about the lack of the stars in the sky...a moment later the Coldplay tells me "Look at the stars, look how they shine for you." Liars...

6:30 AM: Cross the Nile River...as Jeff accidentally skips past a Police checkpoint

6:50 AM: Make it to Jinja, the town hosting the run.

7:00 AM: Scout out the coffee shop for out post-race celebration

7:15 AM: Drive around looking at the Nile...it's beautiful

7:20 AM: Use a map that is slightly more specific than a globe to try and locate the race starting point.

7:25 AM: Realize that the map is useless...but it does tell me that medical staff will be at the start and finish. Good news. I'll just make sure to not die during the race.

7:30 AM: Have yet to see anyone in running attire.

7:31 AM: Decide that we can't find this place on our own and ask a policeman who may or may not have been able to read the paper we showed him...he sent us off in a general direction.

7:33 AM: The general direction led to some goats and chickens.

7:35 AM: Find a taxi driver, and pay him $1 to take us to the starting point

7:38 AM: He takes us to a "fitness club" that is essentially deserted. He leaves and we are greeted by a sad looking dog and an older man...whose shirt is 1/2 buttoned, and is possibly hungover. We ask him about the race...he looks as confused as I was when I walked in Didi's World. We conclude that this is not the starting point.

8:00 AM: Continue to drive around aimlessly...

8:03 AM: Spot a poster for the race which reads: 31 May, 2009

8:04 AM: Realize that today is not 31 May, 2009. %&#*@#!

8:05 AM: Laugh for about a minute solid

8:06 AM: Jeff declares this one of his best African moments.

8:07 AM: Jeff realizes that they had initially set the date for the 3rd, but after a low sign up, must have decided to move it to the 31st and add a 1 to the posters...without telling anyone! This isn't really a big surprise.

8:08 AM: Decide to go to the coffee shop anyway

8:15 AM: Arrive at the coffee shop to see that it doesn't open til 10

8:16 AM: %#&$*#@&!

8:17 AM: Down, but not out...we decide to head back to Kampala

9:30 AM: Get coffee and breakfast at a great place in Kampala

10:00 AM: Return home 5 hours after leaving and without running, but with a story to tell.

10:01 AM: We decide it was a good day anyway

9:00 PM: Still a little disappointed that we didn't get to run, but know it was an experience I'll never forget. Seeing the Ugandan countryside was great...crops, hill, rainforests, and the Nile!

9:01 PM: Realize I probably woulda passed out by the 6th km anyway...

Weekend pt. 1...Didi's World

2009-05-03T07:12:00.000-07:00

Over the years, I've done some ridiculous things in some ridiculous places (playing paintball in Bulgaria and singing "Summer of 69" in a Nairobi food court come to mind immediately), but Saturday's experience may have been the most bizarre...

Nestled in the middle of Kampala, about a 5 minute drive from the Atherstones' house, sits Didi's World amusement park. Yep, that's right, an amusement park in Uganda.

The legend of Didi's World begins over ten years ago, when these same rides and structures resided in Italy. Evidently, someone was killed on one ride, so the generous Italians donated all the equipment to Africa. So, it all sits in the middle of Kampala, and for a mere $2.50 USD you can enjoy the fun all day!

Saturday, we took Noah and Kadin (Jeff and Christine's two boys) to spend the whole day running around and riding rides. I spent most of the day simply in awe of the mere existence of this place. Didi's world boasts a mini rollercoster (not operational on Sat.), a Ferris wheel (turned off), a swinging pirate ship (pretty awesome), go-karts (there was one), bumper cars (4 of em), and about 50 of the best video games the mid 90s had to offer (including "Out Run" and a John Deere game).

Though this might sound rough, Didi's world certainly has an appeal all its own. Let me take a moment to compare Didi's World with Disney World:

Admission: Disney $70, Didi's $2.50

Lines: Disney 1 hour, Didi's 0 minutes

Sodas: Disney $6, Didi's $.50

Lunch: Disney $14, Didi's $3

Rules: Disney, if the ride is locked, it's closed. Didi's, if the ride is locked, climb in through the window and turn it on yourself.

Ride Operators: Disney, way too many, often surly. Didi's, 1 per 3 rides, usually friendly, sometimes asleep.

Mascots: Disney, Disney characters only. Didi's, Disney characters, Looney Tunes, and even some random new ones (see below picture)

All in all, Didi's World was a great time. Now if only all the rides worked...

This is me with my favorite mural...a Computer man super hero...complete with mouse hands, a CRT head, and the best part...an attached chainsaw and cougar. I spent an hour trying to figure out the chainsaw + cougar combo...

Day 5...I'm blessed

2009-05-02T10:30:00.000-07:00

I've been an affiliate with NMSI for around 15 months now...in that time, my understanding of missions, culture, and cross-cultural communication has grown exponentially. So, one would think that by now I'd know to leave my expectations in the airport. However, as I came to Uganda, I didn't remember that foundation of short term mission projects. My expectations were that teaching would probably be a disaster...that I didn't have enough information and that I wouldn't be able to adequately communicate with the students.

God took care of all of that...I actually have too much information, and it's turning into a struggle to fit it all in during our two weeks! Communication hasn't been an issue...the Ugandans have done an excellent job understanding my Tennessee drawl. Getting to know the students has been a true blessing.

Friday afternoon as class began, I asked the class to pray for Chris Morgan. If you're reading this, odds are you know about him and his battle with brain cancer. Thanks to frequent emails with Chris' wife Emily, I've learned that this has been a really hard week for him. There are so many side effects of chemo that I never could have imagined.

Stepping before the class at 2 PM, my heart was heavy...burdened for Chris and Emily. I told the class what was going on, and every eye that met mine was filled with compassion, concern, and care. After asking them to pray, every student prayed aloud fervently and passionately...my ears and heart heard a concert...asking God to heal Chris. Roughly two minutes later, voices quiet and my eyes no longer dry, I said thank you and amen. 8000 miles away, Emily found some peace and Chris some strength.

People who have never met Chris, and will never meet Chris care about him and prayed. Perhaps we should all be so moved to care for another...

Days 3&4 "You're non denominational? Are you sure?"

2009-04-30T11:10:00.001-07:00

So I'm almost halfway through this adventure of teaching in Uganda...it's hard to believe! Yesterday, I gave my first quiz, and the class did excellent work. Over half of the class made a 100! So that tells me that the quiz was far too easy...the next one will be much more difficult. Turns out that repeating information is no problem for Ugandans...critical thinking is much more difficult. So for the next exam, we'll have more essays.

Currently the college here has 2 guest professors. As you know, I teach the afternoon Acts class, and in the morning, a gentelman named Evan Turley teaches the Church History class. Evan, happens to be Irish...and he's about as Irish as St. Patrick! There are several students who go have Evan's morning class and my afternoon class. That means the poor students are subjected to a sharp Irish accent in the morning and a deep southern drawl in the afternoon. Again...English is not their first language. I'm amazed at their linguistic skills.

One of the best students came to Jeff, my host and the Academic Dean and said "Brother Jeff, my white professor in the afternoon doesn't speak so fast, but I don't understand him sometimes...and my white professor in the morning...I don't even know where he comes from!"

I love Evan's accent...it's great to hear him speak...maybe the students are amused with our respective takes on the English language. The student didn't seem too bothered... he made a 100 on the quiz!

Last note of the day...today I was helping one of the students with a question about Cornelius in Acts 10. This is an older lady of about 65, her name is Mary. After I gave a few answers that she liked, we had the following convo...

Mary: So...are you Baptist?
Me: No, I do not belong to a denomination...non-denominational
Mary: Whaaaat? Are you sure?
Me: Um...yea...non-denominational
Mary: But you...you know so much about the material...you have a view of the whole book.
Me: Well thank you, Mary, I appreciate that.
Mary: And you're sure? Non-denominational?
Me: Yes ma'am...I'm sure.

Funny...I guess she had a bad non denominational teacher before! Maybe I'm helping out the reputation out here. haha

Anyway...tomorrow is Uganda's Labor Day, so I promised to end class a little early. Then it's the weekend, and the 10k run along the Nile on Sunday.

Thanks so much for the prayers...God is doing great things.

More later.

Hope ya'll are well.

Matt

Day 2 "Professor Matt, you assign too much homework."

2009-04-28T09:18:00.000-07:00

Throughout my career as a student, I always thought that the amount of homework a teacher assigned was directly proportional to the amount of contempt said teacher felt for his or her students. Now that I see from the teacher's side, it isn't the case.

In the hours that preceded class today, I heard several times (and from a variety of sources) that I had assigned too much homework for one night. At one point, I had a student come up to me and say "Professor Matt, this is so much...you are killing us!"

First of all...until recently, I never expected to be teaching in this, or any other context. Secondly, I certainly couldn't have imagined being the teacher that gives too much homework! After some review with Jeff, the academic dean, it turns out that I'm not giving too much...a good amount, but not too much.

When class began, I promised the students that my grading would be fair, that the exam would be objective, and that the homework wasn't so tough. After a few minutes of convincing, we went on with class. Again, today went really well...ended better than it started!

Here are some pictures from the Bible College.

1. The front of the building

2. The view from the classroom (that's Lake Victoria)

Teaching...Day 1

2009-04-27T11:03:00.000-07:00

I had no idea what to expect for my first day teaching...

As I had suggested to over the past few weeks, I really felt unqualified to teach at this level. I had visions of disaster running through my mind...students being totally confused, their minds wrecked by my southern accent and lack of seminary training.

Alas, none of that happened...so far.

I began, like any class, by calling roll. Now, I do my best to pronounce everyone's name the correct way. If you're reading this, you probably know that my biggest pet peeve is someone mispronouncing Appalachian. For real. Don't get me started. Especially if they're from somewhere else and tell me how to say it (I'm looking at you Justin Hemming)...ok so I guess I got started...back to today...

So yea, I do my best in this department, so looking down at the roster, I saw names like: Tukacungurwa, Twijukye, Muwanguzi, and Ndayirajige. Yep...not exactly Smith and Jones. I made my apologies before opening my mouth, and thankfully, the Ugandans were gracious and understood that this white dude didn't have any idea.

Past that first bit of awkwardness, we jumped right in. Acts is about as straight forward as any book of the Bible can be, but that didn't stop the students from going into predestination, spiritual gifts, and the end times. How we got from Peter healing a crippled man in chapter 3 to the second coming of Christ is a mystery to me...

All in all, 2 hrs and 50 minutes later we finished for the day after covering 3 chapters and discussing plenty of tangents. I feel so blessed to be able to do this, and look forward to another busy day of study and teaching. More to come later!

Matt

In Transit..

2009-04-26T10:52:00.000-07:00

Headed to Uganda

2009-04-24T11:26:00.000-07:00

Last spring, while I was going through the COAT program at NMSI I met the Atherstone family who were going through the program with me. Jeff and Christine Atherstone have been missionaries in Uganda for the past few years and are leading an exciting ministry there. Jeff is the academic dean at Gaba Bible Institute, an organization that teaches and trains pastors.

During our time in COAT, Jeff asked if I would be interested in coming to Uganda to teach a course at GBI. I had turned down the opportunity a few times, thinking that I'm unqualified.

I was right, I haven't been qualified...but in February, I felt called to go anyway...that God would equip me if I went. So...that's what I'm doing!

For the next two weeks, I'll be in Kampala, Uganda, teaching the a two week course on the book of Acts. I ask for your prayers, as I still feel totally unqualified...but at the same time I'm confident that God will provide all the needed knowledge and wisdom .

So, I ask for your prayers for this opportunity. I'm honored to be able to do this, and ask for your continued prayers.

By the way, I'll have good internet access in Uganda, so watch out for updates!

Matt

The Saab meets its end...and so does an era

2009-04-05T17:05:00.000-07:00

On the side of Alligator Alley, at mile marker 43, I sat in the dry, prickly grass calling Geico roadside assistance. Thirty feet in front of me, she sat, silent and forlorn....perhaps the best looking broken down car I've ever seen, with her clean 3 spoke alloys, armor-alled bumpers, and glistening 12 year old paint testifying to its previous life apart from the Florida sun.

Moments earlier I was driving in serene comfort...sunroof open, sipping on a Cherry Coke Zero, listening to March Madness on Sirius radio, with the cruise set at 82 mph. Suddenly, the car jerked and popped out of 5th gear...the tach needle lay limp, telling me all I needed to know. Turning on my hazard lights, I steered across the rumble strips and into the grass, away from harm. I gave the key one more turn-just to quench my remaining shred of hope. She gave her last half hearted groan and that was it. The Saab met its bitter end in South Florida, due to a seized engine.

After making the necessary calls (Geico for practicality, McClure because he was waiting on my arrival, and Dad because he's the only person who really understood...not to mention, he's Dad, that's who ya call) I moved to a lone patch of shade to escape Florida's wrath. Earlier that day, I had invested a $500 in the car to replace some leaking axle seals, so I was pretty mad about that, knowing that it was essentially $500 wasted. For me, $500 is a considerable amount of money, but oddly, I wasn't all that concerned about it. With nothing on my hands but time (and a fair amount of grease) my mind drifted to the journeys that took place in my Saab: the blissful post-purchase drive from Atlanta, the countless ventures through Tennessee's windy back roads, the long hauls to the beach culminating with the intoxicating aroma of ocean air, the kamikaze journey to Kansas and back in a weekend, dates-good ones and bad ones, the drive to South Florida with my life packed in the trunk, and its final journey to Miami that ended 50 miles too short.

Considering that this was the 5th time the car had been towed (which is 5 times more than either of my previous Saabs), my relationship with this car could be defined as love-hate. But despite the frustration, its untimely end was sad.

I know...a car is just a car...not of any real importance...but for 5 years, my Saab provided the scenery, background, and soundtrack to a variety of meaningful memories. The significance in this isn't that my car physically transported my friends and me on those late night food runs in college, but in the fact that it was simply there for all of those, for the beach trips, for the moves, the dates, and on the long and lonely drives when the illuminated dashboard was my only companion. So for me, my Saab represented an era in my life...2004-2009...a rare constant an era when I moved 6 times, had 7 different jobs, and changed life plans countless others.

Maybe now, this era of transition is over.

Now, I have to sell her to someone else...most likely to be parted out. When that time comes, a constant, insignificant as it may be, will be gone. And many of my memories, some of the fondest and some of the hardest, will be just a little more opaque.

Ruminations From the Front Porch

2009-03-31T21:37:00.000-07:00

Ordinarily I'd be typing from my usual comfortable spot in my recliner, but tonight, circumstances force me elsewhere. Right now, our internet at NMSI is being switched or...tweaked...or...um...reconfigured? Pretty much all it means to me is that we don't have wireless on campus tonight. Since I still had plenty of internet related things to do, I couldn't be deterred from using the internet by a minor detail such as no available wireless connection. About 9:30, my buddy Ty and I walked a few blocks to a 24 hour Dunkin Donuts...only to be kicked out at 10 because it was "closing time". That was the first time I've ever been asked to leave a 24 hour establishment. (it took 3 minutes of racking my brain to confirm this)

Returning to the house, I found that some kind soul near here has an unsecured wireless router...so I'm typing from my porch, borrowing the signal. Even though it's the front porch, I'm still sitting in a pretty great chair...one I found on the side of the road a few weeks ago. Thanks to a little dusting, a bit of stubbornness, and a substantial amount of Febreze, this tweed rocking chair makes for some pretty sweet porch sitting.

So I've been sitting here, working on flight itineraries, emailing people, and searching for a replacement for the Saab (an entire post devoted to how it met its bitter end will be up very soon) in my chair, on the porch. And in the past hour or so, I've decided that I'm still not used to Florida. Not at all. This place is so muggy. So oppressively hot. I can't even chew gum without sweating...and it's March. Even though I'm sitting in a tweed recliner that has at best a questionable history, the mugginess that is Florida compels me to sit here shirtless...which I would do if I were in better shape or had less concern for passers by. Alas, I sit here fully clothed and fully drenched.

Yea, so I'm still not a fan of this state...

Even so, I have found Florida's silver lining.

Drumroll......

Publix!

Yep, a grocery store...not the beaches (I've seen better), not the sun (I already have enough freckles for a connect the dots book), and not the culture (cause it's mostly manufactured). But for real, Publix...it's the best thing about Florida...and that's not even a knock on Florida.

For example, today I went into the store and the following things happened:
I saw my reflection in the clean floor
A nice lady gave me a free sample of some kind of great chicken
I saw a ton of buy one get one free deals (including Gatorade and Cheez-its)
I bought bread for $1.30 and a gallon of milk for $2.80
And now the kicker...they have great sushi....I went to the sushi desk, and again, encountered a very kind lady who offered to make me whatever kind of sushi I wanted! So she did...she made my salmon/cream cheese roll on the spot, and it cost me $6

If grocery stores were cars, Publix is a BMW.

Yep...Publix. The best thing about Florida. I think that should be their new ad campaign...shoot I'd even volunteer to be in the ad!

So that's it...now I have to confront the fact that my life has come to spending a considerable amount of time writing about a grocery store...and other inane details. And now you have to confront the fact that you just spent 2 minutes reading about it...

Baby, It's 3 am I must be lonely...

2009-03-26T02:33:00.000-07:00

Sleeping has never really been a problem for me. Unless you consider sleeping too much a proble. I slept a lot in High School...in class that is. My Spanish II teacher once gave me a detention for sleeping, even specifying when I was asleep. For example, she wrote on the detention slip: "10:20-10:30 nodding off," and "10:30-11:15 head down." (I still find that super creepy)

I also remember the following dialogue:

Random girl in my Spanish III class: "You sleep a lot in class huh?"
Me: "Um, yea...I guess so."
Girl: "But you make A's in here don't you?"
Me: "Um, yea...I guess so."
Girl: "So, do you have like...a problem? Or something? With sleeping?"
Me: "Like narcolepsy? Haha...no...I just get extra sleep when I get the chance."
Girl: "Oh...are you sure?"

From then, not a lot has changed...pretty much anytime I want to take a nap, I shut the ole brain off and I'm out like Cecil Fielder trying to steal 2nd.

So when insomnia filled nights like this arise, I'm alarmed. I needed sleep, I was tired...my room was dark, cool, and peaceful...yet I just couldn't manage to find slumber. So at 3 AM, I got out of bed wanting to find a Waffle House, get some coffee, and talk about life with a friend...but it was 3 am, and normal people sleep at 3 am. I had plenty of time to think...sometimes I like being alone with my thoughts. So I thought I'd give you a few of the random things I thought...

*I don't want to get a FL drivers license
*I want to see Asia and Australia
*I wish I was better at car repair
*I need to work on my guitar skills
*I wonder if the roaches in the cabinet are dead now? (Ty put some roach killer out)
*I wonder if that guy will accept my $300 offer for his 1993 Saturn
*I think I'd like a Flux Capacitor
*I'd like to go play basketball
*I'd also like a Blizzard

Well, there ya have it..instead of simmering in those random thoughts, I went on over to the office to get started on the day...and here I am! Now, I think I'm going to go to Dunkin Donuts for a Bagel and Coffee. I'm rarely up this early...I think I deserve a reward.

My gripe with Kashi:

2009-03-09T19:54:00.000-07:00

To the people of Kashi,

The other day I ambled into a CVS, in hopes of finding some Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Apple Jacks, or some other deliciously indulgent cereal on sale. Instead, I was surprised to find two of your products on sale, for the astoundingly low price of 2 for $6! In an effort to be both healthy and frugal, I purchased a box of Kashi Go Lean! Crunch, and a box of Kashi Heart to Heart. The Go Lean! Crunch box displayed the cereal with blueberries spilling into a bowl. Both the blueberries and the exclamation point made me think that the contents of the box may include considerable flavor. Better yet, the Heart to Heart box said “Honey Toasted Flavor.” Who doesn’t like honey/toasted? My brain told my stomach to anticipate something like Honey Nut Cheerios, only good for you! After carrying myself with a newly found upper caste cereal eater’s walk back to my house, I opened the box of Go Lean! Crunch. I was appalled at what I found…rather, what I didn’t find.

The box contained exactly 0 blueberries and nothing meriting an exclamation point aside from disappointment. This cereal’s flavor was strikingly similar to that of off brand Smacks. Imagine Smacks, minus the stuff that makes it not taste like a tree, and you have Kashi Go Lean! Crunch. Foolishly, I was expecting blueberries and exclamation points…I suggest you consider renaming this cereal “Kashi Liar :o( Crunch.” Truthfully stating that the cereal box lies perhaps evens out the lie itself. The sad face :o( accurately depicts the consumer’s expression upon consumption of the product much better than the exclamation point previously did. These subtle changes should not only give your integrity a boost but also improve the accuracy of your advertising. I figure you guys probably believe in karma anyway, so this will be a good change.

In hopes of chasing away the aftertaste of stale tree bark, I opened the box of Heart to Heart. I was pleasantly surprised to see both “O” shaped nuggets as well as heart shaped ones as the box depicted. Could it be that the first box was an aberration and this box contained the true essence of Kashi products!? Hurriedly, I poured milk into the bowl and dug into Kashi’s second chance. Immediately, the bite made me sad. Sad because it tasted like Puppy Chow (I say this as one who, as a kid, tasted Puppy Chow)…sad because it made me miss my dog. Both my parents’ dog, and my dog who died when I was in high school. Then it made me sad because I was eating it…and not Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Sad because I could have bought 3 Wendy’s Double Stacks for the same price. Sad because at that very moment, I was still really hungry. Though I cannot fault your advertising for this product, I can sure fault the product itself. I hope that this stuff really did help my heart…because it definitely made my heart sad. My submission is that you change the name of this cereal to Kashi h”O”rribles. You should pronounce the “O” with an “o-h” as in “ho-rubbles.” You may sell more that way.

My conclusion: the healthy cereal lied to me, made me want multiple fast food cheeseburgers, and made me miss my dog. Next time I’ll pay double for some Apple Jacks.

Sincerely,

Matt Hickman

An Unexpected Hug

2009-03-01T14:55:00.000-08:00

Ok, I should warning you that this is a sort of stream of consciousness rambling. So if everything isn't tightly connected, I apologize...I wanted to get these thoughts down before I lost them.

Before I had an opportunity to react, or even realize what was going on, I found myself in a tight embrace with a withered, elderly Haitian man. His balding, scratchy head barely reached my chin and he lingered for longer than I expected. Next, with passion and gratitude in his voice, he said 3 or 4 things in Creole that I couldn't understand at all...then walked off. About 20 minutes before I preached a sermon as a guest speaker on the first night of a revival week in Bon Repos, Haiti. Though I felt like much of the message was lost in translation, something apparently touched him.

Later that night as I walked out of the small church, my mind began to dissect the past 2 hours of singing, dancing, praising, and praying. Though I had much to ponder, I couldn't leave the thought of the random hug from the random man. What prompted his action? Why was he so excited? I've preached my fair share of times and I've never had someone who I had never before seen bear hug me.

Then I had a thought...it might have been his culture.

If I were an outsider standing across the street from this Haitian church, a person who knew nothing of Jesus, of religion or of culture, I couldn't keep from venturing in. I'd hear vibrant music, voices singing, and passionate messages. I'd see people walk inside a drab concrete building and make it come to life. If I had to give one word to characterize the environment, it would be joy.

I can see how Christianity could become cultural here...and in Africa or Asia...it's because it sure seems like the church is the place to be! Dancing, music, people who are happy...it sounds like a good time.

So, does this apply to America? We could probably work to make the church the most popular place to hang out during. Though I can't say I'm opposed to the church being a popular hangout, I don't think that coffee shops, open mic nights, and Christian dance clubs would ever bring a revolution.

As one who doesn't have a great appreciation for liturgy of any kind (by the way, I've been called plenty of names for this: shallow, ignorant, unappreciative, rebellious, uneducated, even stupid) I struggle to see how Christianity is/has become cultural in much of America. Yet, I read Jesus and all he does is shake up the culture.

So I say these loosely connected thoughts to say this rather concise one:

Liturgy or spontaneity, reverence or exuberance, if motivated by culture isn't Jesus...it's merely culture.

So when he hugged me, what was it Jesus or culture? Considering that roughly half of all Haitians still practice voodoo...

I say Jesus.

That was February

2009-02-27T14:11:00.000-08:00

So I've done a terrible job updating my blog this month. Ordinarily I update weekly, but as of today, the next to last day in the month, a solitary post stands (and a brief one at that). To make up for my negligence, I'll post a review of the month today, and some deeper thoughts about Haiti tomorrow. That should help out the ole average right?

Highlights from February 2009:

Feb 2: Ryan and I attempted to go to the Super Bowl. We had to...it was 2 hours away, Springsteen was the halftime show, and oh yea...my beloved Steelers were playing for their record 6th title! Alas, we came upon a total of 6 tickets...none of which were cheaper than $2000. So, tails half tucked, we found a place serving all you can eat ribs, wings, queso dip, and other glorious things. We had a blast, and watched an incredible game (you all know I could devote an entire blog post to the SB). The Steelers hoisted their 6th Lombardi Trophy as I hoisted my 20th(or so) hot wing...I feel like I should shed a tear here...

Feb 4-10: I spent a week in Haiti...meaningful thoughts on this tomorrow. (Preview: God pretty well kicked me in the pants in a Haitian church)

Feb 10: I returned from Haiti to a glorious site...my 1997 Saab sitting, not in a garage in need of a clutch replacement (as it had been for 3 months), but in the driveway, wheels on the ground ready to roll. Dave Fontana fixed her up for me while I was gone! I was/am so grateful. Over the previous 3 months I had driven several different minivans in various states of disrepair and it had gotten depressing. It's nice to no longer get the "check out that loser by himself in the minivan with no hubcaps look." The "what kind of car is that?" look, or the "that guy doesn't look like he should be driving a Saab" looks, fit much better.

Feb 12: I spent a day recruiting at Florida Christian College with Ty and Amy (my traveling buddies). The day went well, and as a bonus I got to see Emily (my sister)...who nearly tackled me and later swung a bat in my general direction...we're tight you know!

Feb 13-15: I burned up my 15 minutes of fame by having my ridiculous valentine's day video featured on Sports Illustrated's website. Yep, my video was sandwiched between Kurt Warner's and David Letterman's. So now, 7000 people have seen/heard me singing my heart out to a 19 inch TV. Aren't you proud mom and dad?

Feb 21-24: Ty, Amy, and I went on another recruiting trip, this time to Charlotte and Atlanta. In Charlotte, we went to UNCC and met some great people. I was also able to hang out with Awal, one of my best friends from college. Allen (his real name, but it's weird if I call him that) leads worship for Impact Campus Ministry at UNCC, and is truly gifted musically. We had some great times playing intramural football back in the day. Awal was a great defensive back, but I think my lumbering self had more receptions on offense.
As for the rest of the trip, our NMSI friend Katie met up with us at my sister's house in Atlanta, and we went recruiting at Atlanta Christian College. My niece and nephew greeted me with their usual excitement...I love those kids. While we were there, I was reminded of one of my favorite Will Brady quotes: "I don't like crabs...crabs don't have butts."

So that was February, I'm going to do a better job in March...potential profundity tomorrow....

Haiti Project

2009-02-17T10:14:00.000-08:00

Every time I go on a short term mission project I leave with a heavy heart. Perhaps that is just the nature of such things…even so, I’ve been on my fair share, and foolishly suppose that those feelings would become increasingly fleeting with every project. Yet, as I walked the 200 yards across the tarmac to the American Airlines jet that would take me home, my stomach sank and my heart felt heavy. In front of me stood a not quite green but not quite brown hill as a visual appetizer to the collection of mountains behind. Alone, those hills were pristine and beautiful. However, the preceding week availed me to the hardship lying within those very hills. Haiti’s landscape is lavish and its people are kind and genuine, but the economy is dead and the situation dire. During the week I had a lengthy conversation with a man who is proficient in three languages and also possesses a degree in computer science. He is from the more rural areas, but moved to Port-au-Price in hopes of finding a job…any job. None are to be had.

Very easily, I could give the “what we all want to hear” update on our project. In fact, our short term project was a major success and blessing. We constructed a total of 130 church benches and led a revival at the local church in Bon Repos, Haiti. Those benches will be used in rural churches throughout the country…replacing dilapidated pews, splintered and rotten benches, and in some cases merely allow people to sit who previously had to stand. (not having a place to sit is something we’d never imagine in an American church) Also, Jude, pastor of the church in Bon Repos considered the revival such a great blessing that he wanted to know if he could count on us being back at the same time next year. I’m thankful that God used us how he did…and I’m glad that the project was a success, but walking away, my mind’s focus was elsewhere. My heart remained with the people who need clean water, nourishing food, a roof, education, and hope. When I go on a project I tend to want to change the world…then I remember that saving the world is not my job.

So I thank Jesus that he took that job. I thank Jesus that he is the hope for you, for me, for Haiti, and everyone else. I think Jesus that he is using me to be a part of his redemption. And I thank him for the opportunity to be a part of the process.

25 random things about me

2009-01-31T20:50:00.000-08:00

So this has been going around facebook for some time, so I decided to incorporate it into my blog. Here ya go!

25 random things about me:

I remember most everything…so long as whatever it is I’m remembering is of little consequence. (old convos, things I did, sports trivia, music trivia, etc.)

In middle school, I was a scholar’s bowl champ

I’ve never broken a bone

I’m rarely nervous…unless I’m doing anything involved with music…where I have 0 confidence

Speaking of music…last week a man came into our office to ask if someone could sing at a funeral…right then. So, with some help, I did.

I really like bowling

I really like lime Jell-O…it’s totally underrated

I think American cars are poorly made…and with a friend correctly predicted GM’s bankruptcy (including the reason) 5 years ago

Every day I filter what I say less and less

I love spontaneity…and feel like planning is overrated

I want to be a published writer one day…though I feel like I rarely get unbiased feedback

I’ve been called girlish regarding my shoes…I have a good few pairs, but none that are particularly nice

I dislike The Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter, and the like…and often catch flak for it.

I often think about coaching football again

I love to play basketball…and love it when I’m the last pick…cause I’m a lot better at it than I look

I once brought a rusty brake rotor, a panel from a washing machine, and a porcelain sink to a $5 “rasslin” match.

I laugh at Strong Bad emails way more than I probably should.

My days with Los Locos were among my best days ever

My taste in music is really eclectic...though I don't like country, but I do like bluegrass

My favorite job I’ve ever had was when I was a mower repairman for JBC

I plan on running a full marathon this year

I often am stereotyped…and they never seem to fit

I am totally ok with living without much of a bank account, knowing what my life will look like next year, and not owning much of anything.

I didn’t start drinking coffee til a little over a year ago…now I love it

I’m a jack of all trades, master of none…sometimes it’s great, sometimes it’s really frustrating.

Cheap Flights, Bright Lights, and the Least of These

2009-01-20T13:48:00.000-08:00

Sorry, this blog is a few days late…the past week at NMSI has been rather chaotic. The second week in January is our “blackout week." All Florida based staff are required to be in the country at this time for crucial meetings, discussions, and vision casting for the year. We were able to get a lot accomplished in our division meetings and I’m looking forward to what this year holds!

The weekend prior to blackout week was one that I won’t soon forget. Ryan and Kyle (two of my housemates and closest friends) nearly share a birthday (Kyle’s is Jan. 10 an Ryan’s is Jan. 11) so we were looking for something great to do for a celebration. The week before, I wandered to http://www.spiritair.com/ and found flights to Atlantic City NJ for $57 round trip! Since neither of these guys had ever been to New York City we decided that it would be a great place for a celebration. We combed the internet for a couple more deals needed to complete our journey ($50 bucks for 2 nights at a hotel, and just over $100 for a rental car) and set our sights on the frigid northeast.

So now, I could write, telling you of the sights we saw, the food we ate, the sketchy place we stayed, the convoluted NJ highway system, or the adventure of driving a PT Cruiser full of 5 guys…but I’ll pass. I’d rather tell you about where I saw Jesus while we were in New York/New Jersey.

I saw him at 3am in the kind smile and cheery disposition of the server at Denny’s
I saw him in the eyes of the 4 strangers who sat across from us and kindly gave us directions on the subway. (yet never spoke to one other)
I saw him in sincerity and sharp mind of the older man wearing the preverbial “NY” hat who spent several minutes telling us the best way to get to Washington Square.
I saw him in the moment when we got immediate seating at the ESPN Zone in Times Square during a Saturday night NFL playoff game after being told the wait was 90 minutes. (it was like God's birthday present for Ryan and Kyle)

Where I saw him most, however, was on the subway at 11PM, while headed back to Jersey. The five of us jumped aboard the train, our bodies tired and our bones chilled from 17 hours of devouring NYC. I took my seat and several seats down, a man caught my attention. His white, unkempt hair fell to his bony, slumping shoulders that didn’t so much support his thickly bearded, blank face, as it did keep it loosely attached to the rest of him. The man’s clothing was tattered and disheveled, partially falling off his frail body. I confess, my immediate reaction was not good…I assumed he had drunk himself into a stupor and was now suffering the hell that comes with that sort of abuse. How arrogant of me. After a couple of minutes of seeing this man sway and shake with every movement of this subway, his body giving no resistance, my heart softened. Kyle, Ryan, and I shifted eye contact between us, each feeling that we had to do something. After a few minutes, Ryan made his way over to the man and asked him a few questions. Turns out he was sick and weak…so weak that he said he could hardly move and probably needed to go to the hospital that night. Though his body suggested otherwise, his mind was sharp and his speech articulate…he was in bad shape and needed help. Our stop approached and we had to get off the train, but not without giving him a couple of jackets and covering him up. As he thanked us, we made eye contac and his vibrant blue, coherent eyes struck me as strong, competent, and well. As soon as we got off the train we found a subway employee who directed help to this man. And that was it...

I’ll not soon forget this moment…we had compassion…but could we have done more? I feel like I was directly confronted by Jesus’ words in Matthew 25:

“For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.'
"Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?' The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'

So did we deny Jesus? Did we deny man? Neither have defense. This question remains.

Grace for me abounds...should my grace for others not also abound?

Happy Birthday Mom

2009-01-08T22:07:00.000-08:00

On Tuesday my Mom had a birthday….so in honor of that great day I made her a cake! But since I couldn’t be there for the festivities, here’s a post for my mom! (and an old school picture haha)

10 of the top things I’ve learned from Mom:

10. If you’re gonna be a Hickman, it’ll go a lot smoother if you’re a football fan.
9. That App-ah-latch-ian is correct
8. That dusting is important (even though that one didn’t really take haha)
7. That God speaks loudly at the beach
6. James Taylor, Jackson Browne, The Temptations…that’s all I need to say
5. That an absolutely perfect meal can be adequately complemented with burned bread :o)
4. To appreciate the stars
3. Starting out on a road trip in the middle of the night is completely appropriate
2. That serving others is far more important than serving yourself
1. To love others with abandon…no matter the risk

From Mom I've learned more than I could ever type…thanks…

I hope these 10 made you smile!

Love,
Your youngest/craziest kid.

Farewell 2008

2009-01-02T20:29:00.000-08:00

Every December, the one line from a particular song played at Christmas haunts me. “So this is Christmas, and what have you done…another year over, and a new one just begun.” When I hear John Lennon’s melody I tend to look back and see what all has gone on in the previous year. Some years I’ve felt fairly accomplished…others, not so much. So here goes a recap of all that’s gone on in 2008.

In 2008 I:

*Left a ministry I loved
*Went to the 24 hrs of Daytona race with my dad, nephew, and brother
*Moved to Florida
*Loved watching the Patriots go down in epic Super Bowl XLII
*Spent 9 weeks in a missionary training program with NMSI
*Learned that a guy from Brazil and a guy from Tennessee aren’t all that different
*Understood what it means to be “open, honest, and vulnerable”
*Affiliated with New Mission Systems International
*Fell in love
*Moved back to Tennessee
*Had the privilege of being the best man in my friend Jeremiah’s wedding
*Had the privilege of helping out (in a minor way) with my friend JoHila’s wedding.
*Had the privilege of being the best man in my friend Logan’s wedding
*Re-examined my theology
*Got a job at Applebee’s…and met a lot of good people there
*Saw the birth of Gracie, Chris and Emily’s baby girl
*Went to a CD release party for my friend McClure, and his band Northfork Switchgrass (seriously, check em out…they’re great!)
*Lost 30+ lbs
*Was devastated by the news that Chris had brain cancer
*Was overwhelmed by God’s answer to prayer when Chris came through the surgery
*Co-lead a mission project to Costa Rica and saw God at work in that nation
*Had a fight with Delta airlines…which I lost
*Somehow got Mono
*Was overwhelmed by the love and support of my friends and family as I raised finances to come to NMSI
*Moved back to Florida…into a house with 4 other guys
*Learned that there are 4 seasons in FL: Crowded, Hot, Fire, and Hurricane
*Spent a week in Bulgaria at the NMSI Triennial conference
*Turned 25…and had a blast doing it
*Spent a week in Greece for the 2nd half of Triennial
*Went to the Tennessee-Alabama game with Chris
*Saw Coldplay for $5…again…Coldplay!
*Was devastated by the news that Chris had another tumor…and it didn’t look good
*Went to the National Missionary Convention
*Ran a half marathon
*Was absolutely floored by God when the doc went to remove Chris’s tumor…and couldn’t find it
*Watched a sunrise in Palm Beach
*Had a great Christmas with people I love…and did so without giving gifts!

So there it was…my 2008. It went in a blur. So, here’s to 2009…there’s reason to believe that maybe this year will be better than the last…

Christmas...no small deal

2008-12-23T21:18:00.001-08:00

Isn't it interesting how Jesus' popularity skyrockets for 5 weeks at the end of the year. Granted, the holiday vernacular has changed in recent years to bypass His name, and once in a while a baby Jesus is stolen from a nativity scene, but by and large, Jesus is a pretty popular guy in December. Now, this isn't to say that he's not a popular guy the remaining 47 weeks in a year, but clearly, this is the time of year where His name is heard more. To put it mildly, celebration of the birth of Christ is a big deal. Most likely, from the very place where you read this, there will be some sort of Christmas reminder nearby. That could be a nativity scene on your coffee table, Elvis Presley singing "Blue Christmas" in the background, or perhaps it's the array of lights assaulting all darkness from your neighbor's home. With all the fanfare and celebration that revolves around the Christmas season, you'd sure image the first Christmas was a big deal. However, that wasn't the case. The most influential person ever to walk the earth entered it among no fanfare. There weren't songs playing, there weren't elaborately decorated trees, his name wasn't in lights, and people weren't gathering to light candles the night before. No, when Jesus entered this world, it was not a big public event (even though there were prophesies). Simply, a boy was born in a barn, and some visitors arrived. As my former college professor said, "With all that he was and that he would be, you would have at least expected him to glow in the dark." Instead, he arrived like any other baby; crying and vulnerable.

Perhaps that is the reason that Jesus' popularity is so high during this season. Many of us like to think of the unassuming and vulnerable baby Jesus instead of the controversial and powerful grown up Jesus. Baby Jesus is sweet and soothing. Grown up Jesus, when you get to the core of his message, transforms your life. You see, we're not always comfortable with transformation, or change that alters our worldview. When the Jesus the man says "...any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple" (Luke 14:33), he's suddenly not as sweet and soothing as he seemed as a baby. Jesus the man destroyed the former the lives of those who followed him and rebuilt new ones. The baby Jesus did not. Maybe that's why we latch onto his name during the Christmas season. We'll conveniently forget about the man who calls us love our enemies, give away our wealth, and concede our wants so that we can celebrate him as a baby by giving and receiving presents.

This year, let's not only celebrate the baby whose conception was immaculate and whose birth was unspectacular. Let's celebrate the arrival of the man who changed the world by loving people. Let's celebrate the arrival of the most influential man in history. Let's celebrate the man who brought redemption. Jesus, God incarnate.

Mircales Don't Have to be on Christmas Day

2008-12-16T08:59:00.000-08:00

Standing in a hospital lobby and soaked by cold November rain, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. My stomach knotted as I saw that Emily was calling…I knew that meant news about Chris. His operation began at about 8 am and all we knew was that the surgeon had finished about 10. With the knowledge that the surgery was anticipated to take between 3 and 4 hours, I had a bad feeling about the doc being finished so early. Before I even had a chance to say hello, Emily, her voice full of excitement and relief said: “You’re not going to believe this…they can’t find anything!”
“What do you mean they can’t find anything?” I replied.
Emily: “As in the tumor is gone…the doctor said it isn’t there!”

The following day an MRI confirmed what the surgeon had found…rather what he didn’t find. Dumbfounded, he stood before Chris and Emily saying that he didn’t know what to say. “On Tuesday the tumor was revealed on the MRI…it was focalized (as he made a circle with his thumb and index finger). Today we can’t see anything but normal brain.”

People across the country and scattered globally were praying for Chris…fervently asking for healing, or for a miracle such as this. What an amazing example of God’s power!
Here are a few comments/ text message responses by people that know/love Chris:

“If anyone deserves a miracle, it’s Chris Morgan” - Lee Johnson

“I’m all over the place…smiling but crying at the same time. Just awesome! I’m mad at myself for ever doubting God’s power in this.” - Matt Bentley

“UNBELIEVABLE!!”- Loni Garcia

I wish I had the same faith my mom has…who said she was “going to pray for this to just disappear.” That sounded good to me, but I can’t say I ever truly believed that was a possibility. Looks like you were right mom.

Perhaps God is easiest to see when reality is without rationale.

How bout you? You see Him?

God wins.
Amen.

True Friendship

2008-12-09T08:11:00.000-08:00

Today I write to ask for your prayers for a brother. Chris Morgan went beyond being my friend years ago…when someone is more familiar with the contents of your refrigerator than you are, it’s safe to say that they’ve reached family status. My brother Chris is battling brain cancer…and he needs your prayers. Thursday he will undergo his second operation in four months, this one to remove a 2 cm tumor.
Chris is the most loyal person I’ve ever known, and has always been there for me….even when I didn’t know I needed a friend there. For example:

We lost in the 2nd round of the playoffs in 1999 (Chris‘s senior year and my soph)…we were miserable…so after eating our weight in Applebee’s riblets, Chris sang off key the whole way home from Oak Ridge…I felt a little better.

In High School, within a span of 24 hours I went from having 3 dates to 3 different proms to 0 dates. Chris told me that I would have just spent a bunch of money, said something stupid, and that none of the girls really liked me anyway…I felt a little better.

In middle school, I got really mad at Chris for saying that I was too fat to be getting in a go-kart. After fussing at him he said, “Buddy, some guys are fat…and that’s ok”…I felt a little better.

We went fishing one hot summer afternoon…I was bummed because I didn’t catch a single fish. I looked to my left and see that Chris somehow fell in the water and got his shoelaces caught around a log. He had to carry the log to the shore to free himself…I felt a little better.

I was upset after a breakup in college. I didn’t care about the Steelers game on TV and I barely ate any of the pot roast and mashed potatoes on my plate…Chris knew that the situation was dire. That’s when he called me out for not putting enough effort in the relationship…and told me that he knew I felt guilty and that I had a phone that worked if I wanted to use it…I felt a little better.

We watched Tennessee blow an undefeated season by getting clobbered by Auburn on a rainy night in Knoxville…Chris said let’s eat as much pizza as we can…I felt a little better.

I was ditched for another guy by a girl I was kind of dating on New Years Eve 1999. Chris showed up at my door ready to drive wherever to whoop whoever. Instead we celebrated the millennium in downtown Kingsport with a random group of friends we found…I felt a little better

My beloved Black Lab Jake died on his 8th birthday. Chris cried too…and to this day he can’t ring the doorbell at my parents house because he expects to hear Jake’s bark and frenetic clatter of claws on the hardwood…I felt a little better

We were digging a hole in South Carolina and hit a gas line, breaking it. I beat myself up for not knowing the gas line was there. Chris said “Well, now you know it's there”…I felt a little better.

I have a million more of these stories, but I’ll stop. Notice that Chris didn’t really say anything too profound, and that he didn’t really do anything heroic here. (though there have been times where he has done both) What he has said or done hasn’t really mattered. What matters is that I’ve always known that he’s my brother , that he loves me as a brother, and that he cares. Right now the least I can do is to show him how much I care and love him as a brother. I do that now by asking you to pray for Chris…pray for the surgeons, pray for his wife Emily, and pray for his baby daughter Gracie. Ask God for healing. Chris has always let me know that I’m not alone in a tough time…Thursday I want him to know that he is anything but alone.

The Weather Channel Half Marathon

2008-11-28T20:12:00.000-08:00

Some people are born to run...they've got chicken legs, a fast metabolism, and no body fat. Some people are born to run to the front of the line at the Pizza Hut buffet...tree trunk legs, a lazy metabolism, and Homer Simpson's upper body do not a runner make. I'm pretty sure I fall into the category of the latter, but my sister had the idea for her, my dad, and me to sign up for the Weather Channel Half Marathon in Atlanta on Thanksgiving Day...and being one for crazy ideas/overzealous goals, I decided to give it a shot. The race started at 7:00AM...and if you know me, you know I'm not a morning person, so getting going that early was going to be a challenge in itself, so I decided that while I was running, I'd make mental notes as I ran and do my best shot at a running diary....so here we go!

5:00 AM: Wake up feeling sorta cocky
5:30: Eat 2 bagels and drink coffee
5:35: Read that eating a breakfast high in fiber the morning of the a half marathon is a bad idea...
6:00: Understand why it's a bad idea
6:30: Get dropped off at the race site along with my Dad and Sister(both running) by my brother in law...who has planned to go immediately after to a place called "Grandma's Biscuits"
6:45: Angie asks us what our favorite Thanksgiving dish is...to take our mind off the fact that we're freezing...Dad and I both have an answer involving gravy.
6:46: Wonder if gravy is a typical pre-half marathon discussion topic.
7:00: Suddenly want a "Grandma's Biscuit
7:08: The race starts! (maybe I'll get warm)
Mile Marker 1: Feel like the 1st mile went by quickly...also I'm amused by the people all around me who wore layers and are now throwing them on the side of the street
Mile 2.5: a Waffle House to my left and a Dunkin Doughnuts to my right taunt me with scents of hash browns, filled doughnuts, and waffles....I must really like high fiber breakfasts...
Mile 2.6: McDonalds follows and I remember the time I finished second in a cheeseburger eating contest...I then mentally curse all the fast food burgers I've ever eaten for adding this extra weight...especially the 13 I ate that day (yes, I'm mad I didn't win)
Mile 4: A bunch of Marines pass me...they're wearing boots and carrying flags...I feel like a pansy
Mile 4.3: Inexplicably, I catch the Marines...I feel less like a pansy
Mile 4:4: Realize that they slowed down because one had to pee...then they all pass me and speed off...I feel like a pansy
Mile 5: Finish a climb up a hill...it's the only one of the day...I feel great!
Mile 6: They're giving away some sort of energy jelly beans...I like free stuff, so I grab em.
Mile 6.1: Wonder how in the world I thought I had gone up the only hill as I stare at the base of what seems like Mt. Kilimanjaro
Mile 6.3: The hill is not my friend and realize that I'm only halfway through.
Mile 7: Finish the hill and remember I want to climb Kilimanjaro one day...so I throw a jelly bean up in the air and catch it in my mouth on the run...secretly I hope someone saw me
Mile 8: high five a giant chicken
Mile 8.5: A little girl whiffs me on a high five...
Mile 9: loving my ipod shuffle..."Viva la Vida" finishes and "Bad Day" starts...draw your own conclusions...I was too tired to do so.
Mile 9.5: have stopped all humorous thoughts
Mile 10: start to hate running...its concept and its practice
Mile 10.5: realize that my shoes were tied too tight...I quickly blame every one of my flaws, all the current pain, and the economic recession on that minor fact.
Mile 11: want to quit...my knees are toast and my ankles feel like toothpicks connecting my legs to my feet.
Mile 11.5: fat guy passes me...I'm impressed
Mile 12: Tom Petty's "The Waiting is the Hardest Part" starts...he's right.
Mile 12.4: see Olympic rings ahead at the finish...holy crap...I just might finish this thing
Mile 12.6: pass the fat guy
Mile 12.7: wonder if the fat guy just thought "hey, that fat guy just passed me"
Mile 13: pass the Olympic rings and see the finish line
Mile 13.1: wobbly legged, sore, but all in all feeling good, finish in 2:14:33
9 minutes later: Dad finishes...60 years old and he just whooped a half marathon...I thank him for inherited good genes/stubbornness/determination
7 minutes after that: Angie finishes...it was her idea...I thank her for the great idea/motivation
10:00 AM: we climb in the car and ride home...someone suggests Krispy Kreme...I don't object :o)

National Missionary Convention- Tulsa, OK

2008-11-25T10:35:00.000-08:00

Hey guys,
I spent 5 days last week/weekend at the National Missionary Convention in Tulsa, OK. Every year, NMSI has a booth at the convention where we spend time networking and recruiting. Since my new role is Director of Summer Internships, it was important for me to be at the NMC to meet potential interns. I was blessed to have a lot of great conversations with missionaries, potential missionaries, friends, college professors, and pretty much everyone in between. From your typical productivity standpoint, the conference was great considering we had a large amount of people interested at NMSI. However, the way NMSI measures productivity is different from the way most of us do. Growth is not a core value of NMSI. Let me say that again…growth is not a core value. We do not exist to grab people and send them on the mission field. We exist to help people realize the dream, vision, or ministry that God has given them. This philosophy is a big reason that I am here. We’re not in competition with other mission organizations either. If someone is better suited with another organization, then great. We want them to go work with the other group and be blessed in their endeavors.

For example, a man approached me and asked what we were about. After a brief discussion, he asked “Are you a Christian Church mission?” I responded that we consider ourselves a New Testament ministry, and I am from a Christian Church background, but we have affiliates that are from a wide variety of denominations. Visibly irritated, he simply said “so you’re interdenominational…” and walked off. So, NMSI isn’t the place for this man…though I didn’t entirely appreciate his response, I (and the rest of us) want this man to find a place that is a good fit for him, and wish him the best of God’s blessings. So I’m proud to represent NMSI…and the NMC was a great venue.

Since the NMC was in Tulsa, I thought you might appreciate a few random facts/observations.
*Tulsa is the 45th largest city in the US
*Tulsa has the nickname “Oil Capitol of the World”
*Trying to find food or convenience items in downtown Tulsa is like trying to find a penguin in Florida
*The Doubletree hotel gives you a free cookie when you check in…they will also give you more of these check in cookies if you’re nice and smile
*Tulsa’s wind can stop you in your tracks
*Tulsa is called the “Buckle of the Bible Belt”
*The new BOK center is state of the art and looks like a place where a NBA team should play
*We were not in the BOK center
*We were in the Tulsa Convention Center
*The Tulsa Convention Center has seen better days...

Hope you enjoyed the random facts! I’m running a ½ marathon on Thanksgiving…you’ll hear about that soon!

Happy Thanksgiving y’all.

Lights will guide you home, and ignite your bones

2008-11-12T08:57:00.001-08:00

It’s not everyday that one of the world’s biggest bands plays a concert 2 hours away. Also, it pretty much is everyday that missionaries are without the expendable $100 or so to go to such a concert. So, you ask, what is the solution to this quandary? How bout we go for free!
Determined, 4 of us set out to Fort Lauderdale to find cheap tickets for Sunday night’s Coldplay concert. In the past, I’ve had great luck getting into football games by purchasing tickets from people outside the gate (with the notable exception of Steelers vs. Bengals in 2005), so we figured we’d give it a shot.
After a few fruitless hours of scaplers saying things like “You’re not getting in for under $150...this ain’t the Grateful Dead,” or more harsh words like “you may as well go home,” we finally caught a few breaks. The opening act was almost finished and tickets were still selling for absurd amounts…it looked bleak…and then my buddy Ryan hit the jackpot. First, a man who was late, and in a rush to get in sold his extra pair of seats for $40. Moments later, another person handed him 2 tickets, and as he wrote on a piece of paper said “hey, check out website.” (it happened to be a concert review site)
So there it was…4 tickets to Coldplay for $10 each. Let me say the obvious…they rocked. I don’t know what it is about British guys, but they always seem cooler than those of us who aren’t. If something is said in a British accent, I tend to give the statement immediate credibility. (sort of the opposite effect of my accent)
Anyway, for nearly 2 hours, Coldplay was flawless…their driving chord progressions, insightful lyrics, and varied instrumentation mesmerized 20,000 people. I’m convinced that “Fix You” is the most uplifting sad song ever. Viva La Vida was brilliant as well…it wonderfully depicts the futility of man’s adoration of other men.
Getting to go was great…but “nobody said it was easy.”
Back to deeper thoughts soon…

Election thoughts

2008-11-07T12:33:00.000-08:00

I'm not a terribly politically charged person. I'm a person who has strong opinions, but at the same time, I don't see the world as entirely black and white. You'll never hear me say that I'm a Democrat...nor will you ever hear me say that I am a Republican. (That statement is probably enough to keep me from ever being elected to public office)

That being said, I've been truly surprised by much of the reaction I've seen regarding the results of our election (from both sides). I don't care who you voted for. As a former pastor/current missionary, I feel some sort of unspoken obligation to have a firm stance supporting one of the two candidates...and not only that, but I feel like I should have specific Biblical convictions making the choice black and white. However, here I see no black and white...I see positives and negatives on both sides...so that unspoken obligation is not fulfilled.

Anyway, here is what saddens me:
Christians saying that Obama could be the anti-Christ.
Christians saying that Obama is the savior.
(and other statements of similar nature to each of these)

Each are usually said tongue in cheek, but I've come to learn that if you say something with sarcasm, it's what you really mean but don't have the guts to say.

Do we feel like our political party (either one or neither one...follow me?) is the one that sides with God? Do we feel that our nation is the one that God prefers?

So here's what I think...I think we have a little too much American pride. Let's not forget that Nationalism is caused 2 world wars and countless smaller ones. Essentially, the thought that "our culture is better than yours" has caused countless deaths, injustices, and atrocities.

I remember one night in Kenya, sitting around a fire and talking to another guy in his early twenties...I knew him only as "Ole'." We talked for a while about America, Africa, their differences and their similarities. He said he felt like Americans thought they were better than everyone else. I immediately took offense and told him we didn't...and specifically that I didn't. His response resonated with me "It's because you follow Jesus," he said. "That's why you don't feel that way."

Maybe it is.

Let me say that I'm not dissing our country here...not by any means. I'm saying that our ties to Christ must be stronger than our ties to our nation or our political parties.

So there's my soapbox. If you follow Christ you should feel ok...because God ultimately has the future in his hands. Amidst economic disaster, natural disaster, and global disorder Christ is supreme.

Jesus is our only savior, and may we only boast in Him.

Back home and back to FL

2008-11-05T08:41:00.000-08:00

First of all, sorry I have not posted in a while...I'd say I was able to see a good number of those of you who read this during my 10 days back in Tennessee. But if you're not among that group (or even if you are), I thought I'd let you know what I've been up to.

I spent the 10 days home in Tennessee, working toward getting 100% support. I was privileged to speak in Knoxville at Thorn Grove Christian Church, at Oakwood Forest Christian Church in Kingsport (where I grew up), and at Life Bridge Christian Church in Kingsport.

My friends and the congregations were very supportive and took genuine interest in NMSI and my ministry within the organization. Each meeting was a blessing, and I left feeling encouraged.

While I was home, two things truly stood out to me:
1. I have a great family
2. I have great friends

Family:
I know that for some, the idea of getting together with family does little more than cause frustration and create ulcers. With my family, it's not that way at all. I'm blessed by parents, siblings, nephews, and nieces that I truly love...and love me back. We may all not agree on politics, church, or some other issues that tend to divide...and the great thing is, that's ok. Whether or not we love and care for each other has nothing to do with opinion or action. Love is deeper than difference. Maybe this is some bragging, but really...I'm blessed to see good marriages modeled by my parents, and each of my siblings and their spouses. So I can't wait til Thanksgiving!

Friends:
My friends are great. Maybe this is more bragging, but I really am blessed by a great/eclectic group of friends. During my time back in Tennessee, I was able to spend time with a variety of friends. I just want to take a moment though to talk about one of my best friends, Chris Morgan. Chris and I go way back...I mean, we were in church Christmas plays when we were kids, we played high school football together, and I was proud to be the best man in his wedding to Emily. A few months ago, Chris found out he had a malignant brain tumor which required an operation. I encourage you to check out Chris's story at this website: http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/chrismorgan

My thoughts on Chris, his friendship, his recovery are another post entirely, but for now I merely want to say that Chris is doing so well, and being able to spend time with him while I was in Tennessee was great. We were even able to go to the Tennessee-Alabama game last week. Even though the Vols aren't so good, we had a blast...and it was great to spend time with my friend...who by the grace of God is getting better every day!

Thanks again for checking up on my blog...I'll have some election thoughts tomorrow. They probably will not be what you expect!

Contradictions

2008-10-23T07:30:00.000-07:00

Today I got in an elevator that displayed a small sign saying "Take the Stairs!" This message was accompanied by a stick figure energetically hoofing up a flight. I immediately wondered if the elevator was encouraging me to take the stairs because it was broken. (it was not)

Cigarette ads in magazines have pictures of people doing something like lighting up while having a cookout on a rooftop with a pool. Then has a tagline like: "Newport Cigarettes, Alive With Pleasure!" Followed by a disclaimer that essentially says "consistent use of these products will eventually kill you." Well, at least you'll be "Alive With Pleasure" until you die young.

When I sold lawn and garden equipment at Sears, we were encouraged to pitch the excellent quality of the product (they really did sell great stuff). However, management only cared whether or not we sold extended warranties. Basically, I was supposed to say "Buy this mower and it won't tear up on you...except when it does...and that might be on a frequent basis." (my response to the bosses was always 'how can I sell a warranty if I don't sell a mower first'...it seemed to baffled them.)

Two months ago I stood in the Atlanta airport holding a boarding pass for a flight from Atlanta to Knoxville. Due to a few absurd circumstances, the customer service agent said: "You are not flying today." So I had a had a document that told Delta "Matt Hickman gets seat 27C on flight 1732 to Knoxville." But Delta said "Matt Hickman cannot have seat 27C on flight 1732 to Knoxville." (The boarding pass is now a $200 bookmark)

Seriously, I urge you avoid Delta if at all possible. Their policies defy logic and their customer service department has all the answers to questions you don't ask. Oh, and I'm excited to go home and see everyone tomorrow...I'll arrive on an 11:00 flight from Atlanta...on Delta.

Abandoned Buildings

2008-10-21T13:49:00.000-07:00

About 10 years ago, I was traveling with my parents back to Tennessee from a visit to Florida to see my brother and his family. I loved and hated these trips…loved them because I got to see my family…hated them because riding in our egg shaped Toyota van was like riding in a mobile greenhouse. The giant windows had no tinting and the a/c blew 77 degree air with all the ferocity of a wheezing asthmatic. On one of these journeys, dad decided to wind through the back roads as opposed to driving monotonous I-26. Only 30 minutes or so off of the interstate we came upon a gas station, saloon, restaurant, and department store, each appearing to be suspended in 1955. Every building was abandoned, bearing its own thick coat of neglect. Passing by, we realized that we had stumbled through a modern ghost town. I openly wondered why the place was abandoned…in movies there always seemed to be some sort of disaster or supernatural cause that emptied towns. In seeing buildings forgotten by man and time, I could not avoid feeling slightly depressed. I don’t really know what it was…maybe just seeing emptiness and finality made me sad.

Roughly ten years later those feelings returned as I walked through Hisarya, Bulgaria. Though this town is home to roughly 15,000 people and numerous businesses; abandoned buildings stand on every corner, casting their hollow shadows. This place was like an inhabited ghost town. A three story hotel was started, but never finished, its glassless windows exposing its belly to the elements. A school boasting an elaborate arched entry and open lobby sat without any inhabitants. A large building intended to house shops, businesses, or apartments lay in shambles, though still displaying an advertisement for razor blades. Again, I could not pass these places without their sadness latching on to me. Around these buildings were open businesses and homes, bustling with movement and conversation like saplings growing in a rotten stump. Still, the feeling of melancholy and heaviness remained.

I think the reason that these feelings infected the forlorn structures is because each one represented something finished and unfinished. A dead dream. A lost cause. A missed opportunity. Gone. Lost. Past. Over.

Our society loves to preach hope…hope in politicians, athletes, books, celebrities, progress, and positive thinking. Each of those have a hollow ring to me. People always fail…hope is not truly found in people. My heart hurts for those who live unaware of the abounding love and grace of Jesus. Picturing my life without Christ is like one of those abandoned places…standing empty, forlorn, and wanting.

Maybe that’s why abandoned buildings make me sad…because there are so many all over the world...

Triennial

2008-10-20T08:08:00.000-07:00

Sorry it has taken me so long to post. Oddly, I had internet access in Bulgaria, but had no such luck in Greece. I thought it might be good to take a minute to fill you in on what we did in Bulgaria and Greece.

Once every three years, NMSI has an event aptly named Triennial which gathers all affiliates from around the world. This conference is a chance for the NMSI family to reunite, meet new members, discover the ministries worldwide, and have a time of spiritual renewal. I was truly blessed by getting together with our 250+ missionaries, learn about their ministries, and understand what the short term division can do to serve them. The things that God is doing through NMSI is staggering…from Bible colleges in Uganda, to church planting in Myanmar, to Gypsy village ministry in Bulgaria, God is being honored and the Gospel is being spread worldwide. I’m proud to be a part of this organization and I’m excited to see where God is going to take me on this journey.

The past two weeks were truly a blessing filled with education and spiritual renewal. In the next coupe of days I’ll be adding more reflections from the past two weeks

A few observations

2008-10-04T07:18:00.000-07:00

Here are a few random thoughts regarding travel, culture, and whatever else enters my mind.

1. Spanish people make out a lot in public...a lot
2. Bulgarian fire extinguishers are huge...and look like they're about 50 lbs...so if you're wanting to put out a fire quickly, you're in trouble.
3. The big dude who sat next to me on my flight across the Atlantic silently resented me for 8 hours...I'm sure of it.
4. The feelings were mutual.
5. Speedos are never a good idea.
6. Number 5 applies to you as well.
7. There are a ton of really cool cars in Europe than aren't in the US
8. Techno music is not as cool as some people think.
9. Unless I am just not as cool as I think I am
10. I just realized that number 9 is entirely possible
11. I think I'll stop here

Thoughts from a Bulgarian Lobby

2008-10-03T10:20:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting in the lobby of a Bulgarian hotel, surrounded by diversity, dank post communist decoration, and the Cyrillic alphabet. I'm in an aging burgundy leather chair occupying a convenient spot in the middle of the lobby. Caddy corner from me sits an older Asian man with a wispy moustache. His thin glasses peer down to the screen of his gray Dell laptop on which he types away. Behind him sits a rotund woman who seems to be a local. Her fire truck red hair matches her lipstick as she glances at me with suspicion in her tired eyes. To my right is a couple from Germany. She's a native German and leans forward on her chair, deeply focused on the book she is reading. Her American husband sits close and stares at nothing in particular. To my left stand two female Bulgarian desk clerks. Both are rather attractive, one answers the phone, the other seems perplexed by whatever it is her computer is telling her.

Right now I'm paralyzed by the truth that each of these people have a story. Deep, intricate stories filled with love, grudges, victories, defeats, and who knows what else. Far too often I merely pass by others, entirely wrapped up in my own story, recently filled with transition and heartache. Sometimes my story is just too important to me...I guess we're all wired to be consumed with ourselves. Perhaps part of growing up is seeing your story fade and the stories of others grow. I do know that my story is still being written, just like the man in front of me, the lady behind him, the couple to my right, and the women to my left. The portion of my story that has been written isn't all that important really...how the rest will be written is. Maybe when my story engages the stories of other people, its place of importance will finally be found...as a distant third behind God and others.

For the moment though, I'll just soak in my eclectic surroundings and allow my story to be written more deeply.

Deserted Roads, Late Nights, and Good Music

2008-09-25T11:29:00.000-07:00

Some combinations are so perfect it's hard to imagine one part without another. Lennon and McCartney, steak and baked potato, Homer and Marge, mountains and trees, Montana and Rice, vacation days and the beach, long flights and babies...well ok...maybe not that one. For me, another one of these combinations is night driving and music.

Driving in the day is different, you and the world are exposed to one another and the things that happen in sunlight are the sort of things you want to know about. You can drive at night in blissful ignorance of what goes on beyond your horizons. So if you add the mystery of the night to the romance of the open road, the song you listen to seems to mean just a little bit more. I don't think it's any coincidence that there are so many songs about the open road (Midnight Rider, Running on Empty, Born to Run, Take it Easy, Country Roads etc.).

The other night I had the perfect combination: driving down a remote highway at 2 AM while listening to a cd full of my newest itunes purchases. I guess it was the mood of the night, but I seemed to find profound meaning in nearly every song. With waves of desperation in his voice Tom Petty told me that "...it's so painful, something that's so close, but still so far out of reach." The Who said that "I don't need to fight, to prove I'm right." And then Coldplay asked me to "Look at the stars, look how they shine for [me]." My soul, simmering in brilliant musical philosophy was rudly awakened by "Lido Shuffle" by Boz Scaggs." You probably don't know this song right off the bat, but look it up and you'll remember it...then you'll probably download it...then it'll be your #1 guilty pleasure song. I really tried to find deep meaning in this overtly pop tune discussing a gambling addiction...but it just wasn't there. Even though there was nothing meaningful to take away, I couldn't keep myself from rocking out in the way you can only do in your car.

So maybe there was no deep meaning in Tom Petty's words either. Maybe there didn't need to be. Maybe there's no deep meaning in music, the road, or the night...regardless of the metaphorical possibilities. Maybe there's just good music, the freedom of the road, and mystery of the night. So instead of manufacturing profundity out of lines like "we are all just prisoners here, of our own device," I should just drive and enjoy the music.

I think grizzled old King Solomon was right in his first line of Ecclesiastes. So I should just relax and enjoy the music. I'm convinced that Jesus would road trip with me and rock out to Springsteen.

Who likes to discuss the weather?

2008-09-16T07:49:00.000-07:00

This morning I checked my Hotmail account, which still thinks that I am in Kingsport, TN. The home page alerted me to the brisk 64 degree temperature, accompanying scattered clouds, and light wind conditioning Kingsport. I then laughed to myself as I looked out the window to my right which revealed a palm tree being assaulted by the tyrannical Florida sun. East Tennessee, this is not…the lizard that stood mockingly on my shoe this morning told me so.

I’m a big fan of good conversation. From deeply personal truths to discussing the merits of the Steelers front 7, I love authentic conversations. So, whenever I bring up the weather, it seems trite. In high school I went on a pseudo date with a really attractive girl from another school. This was 1999, so I was probably wearing a plaid button up shirt tucked into straight legged jeans held up by a brown leather belt with a gold buckle and workish boots…I can’t remember if that was stylish or not (I can‘t imagine how it would be), but it was what I usually wore. So essentially when I got dressed I probably should have known then that I was in over my head. I picked her up and as we drove down the road in my 88 Saab (the Great White Hope as I liked to call it), I opened the manual sunroof and the surprisingly hot February sun warmed us. Unfortunately, we struggled for conversation. I asked a ton of questions and got mostly one word responses. After only a few minutes I had used up all my good stuff. There was nothing left to discuss but the weather…with only shallow conversation to follow…at that point I knew it wasn’t going to work out.

Today I don’t feel trite as I bring up the weather. Maybe it’s because I’m still expecting a crisp September morning to signal the coming seasonal change even though the lizard said it wasn’t gonna happen. Or maybe it’s because the change in my surrounding weather signifies a bigger change for me. And like the autumn in Tennessee, this change is welcome. Make no mistake though…I may be in Florida, but I Tennessee boy I will always be.

First Blog

2008-09-11T07:51:00.000-07:00

*This is post #1 of a blog that I intend to update at least once a week (maybe more). Comments, remarks, criticisms, and any other input is always welcome. Also, I am archiving some writings from the past that you're welcome to check out. Thanks for venturing here!

I sit here, my mind rambling, at my new desk at New Mission Systems International. Behind me is a world map dotted with thumb tacks representing the locations of our affiliates. These red tacks are in places like East Timor, Malawi, and Estonia. I'd say each of us could speak to someone today who is unaware that any of these places exist.

The diversity of this world can overwhelm...especially when you feel called to relate to those in the most remote/dire places. I speak often of a moment when these differences pierced my heart. In the spring of 2005, I walked in to a Haitian village in the Dominican Republic (if you're unaware of the prejudicial issues between the Dominicans and the Haitians look it up...the way the Haitians are treated is tragic). I meandered past homes and shops that were constructed with materials that I would throw in the recycle bin or take to the scrapyard. About 10 of us were there, and we could not help but be spectacles, seeing as how we were white, educated, and relatively wealthy. Essentially, I was the socioeconomic antithesis of everyone I met. Bothered and embarrassed as I was by that fact, I was met with something beautiful...the warm, loving, and sincere welcome of the Hatian people. At that moment I realized that these differences were entirely irrelevant.

I'm reminded of Paul's writing in Colossians 3:11: "Here there is no Greek of Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian (a barbaric group considered by others as a step above wild beasts), slave or free, but Christ is all, and is in all."

Paul is speaking of a life in Christ, and in this passage reminds of the inclusiveness of the Gospel. No longer was a life with God limited to the Jews. So as I think of far off places and different cultures like East Timor, Gabon, or Andorra, I realize that those differences are entirely irrelevant regarding the Gospel. As Paul writes, Christ is all and in all. So I celebrate the love that he gives me that is extended to the reaches of this world.

That is why I am at this missions sending organization today...to share that truth...and to love people...wherever they're from, whatever they look like, whatever they think, and whatever they do. As Christ modeled.

Misguided Christianity in the Kingsport Times

2007-11-27T11:23:00.000-08:00

This summer, the following letter was published in the Kingsport Times News. I was pretty irritated and felt the need to respond. First is the aforementioned letter, followed by my reply which was published shortly after.

Immorality is destroying America

Modern day America is just about as immoral as Sodom and Gomorrah. The people of this day and age are unthankful and unashamed.

Back in my day, people shouted as they walked to church, and they shouted all the way home. Now people don't even go to church. They took prayer and Bible study out of the schoolhouses and brought in sex education and witchcraft. You parents that let your children read these Harry Potter books are guilty of witchcraft and idolatry and you're going straight to hell.

Instead of getting a thrashing for misbehavior, the parents, teachers and doctors today get these children heaped up on ritalin. You could give ritalin to a cocaine addict and they wouldn't know the difference. Then, they wonder why this generation has amounted to nothing more than drug addicts, fornicators and murderers.

Back in my day we didn't turn to a pack of pen-pushing pantywaists and labcoat Larrys to tell us how to live. We turned to the word of God.

It seems like every time I go to the store I see a teenage girl carting around three or four young ones. You used to not see that kind of thing around here.

The women in this day and age ain't worth marrying. The Bible says a beautiful woman without virtue is comparable to a gold ring in a pig's nose.

If I had my way, I'd have it to where these women and their children wouldn't get food or medicine through welfare. The Republicans tried to do this in 1996, but Clinton vetoed the bill twice until Republicans finally gave in.

You people ain't smart enough to come in out of the rain. I never thought the good Lord would let me live to see this day.

Bill Sullivan

Kingsport, TN

My response:

Mr. Sullivan,

Your myopic diatribe reeks of the ignorance and irrational judgment that send scores of people away from Christianity every day. As Christians, our purpose is not to condemn everything that appears evil. Our purpose is to extend the love of Christ to unbelievers, to fellow Christians, and to strangers. The judgment placed on unwed mothers and Harry Potter readers simply is rooted in your tradition, not in scripture, and certainly not in love. We see Jesus explicitly condemn this practice in the Gospel of Mark, chapter 7. He rebukes religious leaders after they insist that Jesus and his disciples follow man made laws above God's law. Bible Belt Christianity is often guilty of the same. Judging another man is not our place, aligning ourselves with scripture is.

To those who found this letter offensive; on behalf of loving Christians everywhere, I apologize. I don't seek to defend sin, I seek to defend sinners. None among us can claim to be without sin, thus no man can claim to be more righteous than another. The religious (not Biblical) judgment Mr. Sullivan, Fred Phelps, and others profess does not reflect true Christianity, simply the misguided opinions of cold hearted men.

Religious Judgement says: "You're going to hell," Biblical judgment says: "I deserve it too."

Religious Judgement says: "I hate sinners," Biblical judgment says "God hates sin, not sinners."

Religious Judgement says: "Your past is condemning," Biblical judgment says "Jesus doesn't care."

Religious Judgement says: "Change, then come to Christ," Biblical judgment says "Be changed by Christ."

More and more I sympathize with Gandhi who said "I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ."

The fact that millions refuse Christianity due to Christian behavior sickens me. Christians must desire above all to share Christ and His truth, not the fallacies and ignorance of man.

Jesus and Bruce Springsteen

2007-10-29T11:17:00.000-07:00

've always had an eclectic taste when it comes to music, and think it stems entirely from my parents and older siblings. I have vivid memories of being a little guy, and listening the likes of The Temptations, The Eagles, The Beatles, Bon Jovi, Rich Mullins, Billy Joel, and James Taylor among others. I loved that music, to the point that I had my sister dressed me up as Bruce Springsteen one Halloween! Now, at seven years old I could understand the concept behind "My Girl," but I had no idea what James Taylor meant when he sang "I've seen fire and I've seen rain." I'm thankful that my family exposed me to this music because now I'll go back and try to understand what the artist was conveying. Though I'm aware many of those songs lack any true meaning, I've learned that some artists spoke real truth. For example, I recently saw a televised Bruce Springsteen (my 1989 Halloween hero) concert and he made a striking comment. He was playing a song titled "Jesus Was an Only Son" which was written from Mary's point of view; watching her son crucified. After playing his song, the Boss, visibly emotional, stated that he was overcome with compassion for Mary having to watch her son be murdered. So he decided to write a song about it. He closed with this comment: "If we lose our compassion, do we really have a claim to the divine?"

I don't know your feelings about Bruce Springsteen. You may think he can't sing and you may disagree with his politics. Regardless, his statement is truly profound. Paul teaches in 2 Corinthians that God is the author of compassion. However compassion is more than just a feeling, action follows. Seven times the gospels mention Jesus having compassion on someone. Every time, that feeling of compassion was followed by an action to help. So how often do we truly have compassion on our fellow man? When we see a man standing on a corner asking for food/money/gas are we compassionate? Or do we think "Deadbeat, he should get a job." In John 21 Jesus tells Peter that if he truly loves Him, to care for his people. In Matthew 25, Jesus teaches that what we have or haven't done for "the least of these brothers of mine," we have or haven't done for Him. So maybe Bruce was right. When our compassion is gone, when we dismiss someone else's burden, what claim do we have to loving Jesus?

"Ain't no doubt in no one's mind that love is the finest thing around." -James Taylor 1968

"And now these three things remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love."-The Apostle Paul AD 55

Love God. Love people.

Love,
Matt

Snoring and Selfisness in Africa

2006-09-07T10:46:00.000-07:00

I walked into the dark, fire smelling home wanting only to drop my belongings. A man I knew only as Pastor was my host and I greeted him upon arrival. Seated across from him on the couch was another African man. His complexion, size, age, fleeting gray hair, late 80s golden glasses, and suspenders made him a perfect double for Terence Mann, James Earl Jones’ character from Field of Dreams. Though the resemblance struck me, I greeted him with due respect. His reply was different, “A blessing to meet you Matthew, my name is Frederick.”

For the next 25 or so minutes we shared chai, laughs, and stories from years of ministry. I then learned that I would be sharing a room with Frederick that night and found myself looking forward to another conversation with him. After a few more questions, I politely excused myself to go discuss the following day’s events with my team. When I returned, Pastor was still awake and showed me to my room. To my disappointment, Frederick was sound asleep and obviously unavailable for further conversation. I quietly readied myself for bed and laid down without disturbing Frederick. I had nearly drifted off to sleep when I was startled by an amazingly loud snort. Sitting up, I concluded that either a giant pig was terrorizing this part of Kenya or Frederick was having a heart attack. Looking over at Frederick, I realized that he was sleeping peacefully and heart must have been working fine. As the horrific sound persisted, it slowly began to dawn on me that Frederick was snoring, and it was not going to stop...and I was not going to sleep. As moments became minutes and minutes became hours, my frustrations and weariness grew. Each of my efforts to suppress the sound (which ranged from burying my head in a pillow to removing my shirt, tying it around my head, and twisting the ends to fit in my ears) were abject failures. Nearly four hours after my struggle for slumber began, I finally found it by making enough noise to awaken Frederick. My manufactured coughing spell was enough to quiet him long enough for me to fall asleep.

At the desolate hour of 5:30 (only 2 hours after I had fallen asleep), Frederick woke me with loud morning greetings. Startled by my new found consciousness and angered by the same, I bristled at his words. I suppressed angry thoughts and resentment and mustered a half-hearted reply. Fully dressed in his business attire, Frederick was about to leave. I was expecting a simple goodbye, but instead he asked to pray for me. When first proposed with this I was appalled by his nerve of asking for more of my time, after occupying it for so long the previous night. Again, I mustered a half hearted reply. What followed was one of the most heart-felt, genuine, and articulate prayers for blessing I had ever received. Despite my wooden heart and angry spirit, Frederick refreshed, blessed, and restored me through his prayer.

When I first woke up, I saw him as selfish and rude. His prayer alerted me to his true Godliness and humility. I was judging this man’s heart for something he had done literal unconsciousness. As he got up to leave, I was again struggling for a proper response. My thanks and goodbye probably seemed less genuine the my previous utterances that morning, but it was the most sincere. My struggle for words this time was due to a pierced heart instead of a hardened one. Selfishness is easily imposed on another when you suffer from the same. Frederick, wherever you are, God bless you.

Teaching 6th Grade in Kenya

2006-07-20T11:14:00.000-07:00

Dozens of inquisitive brown eyes were fixed upon me, a clueless, solitary, Caucasian man. Struggling to find words appropriate to the situation, I merely said, “hi, I’m Matt.” Moments earlier I had been thrust into a standard 6 (6th grade) classroom in the village of Elengatta, Kenya. Having never taught anything more advanced than subtraction in any school setting, I was hoping for a bit of instruction. Unfortunately, my instructions were as underwhelming as my opening words: “Ask them questions, and they will ask you questions.” Attempting to follow these instructions, I asked the class, “What would you like to know about me?” I received nothing but stares as blank as the chalkboard behind me. I began to wonder how on earth I was going to be able to fill a day’s worth of class time. My only idea was to petition God for some kind of breakthrough to at least interact with these children. The awkward silence was broken by my haphazard explanation of America and its characteristics. After drawing a map that bore a closer resemblance to a flounder than to America, I sheepishly asked the class if they had any questions. To my delight, one boy raised his hand. He then said, “We are not getting you.” Turns out my Southern US brand of English is a far cry from the Kenyan version. Kenyans speak in a choppy, unsure sounding manner. With my drawn out vowels and shortened suffixes, I may as well have been speaking in Korean. After adjusting my speech to their understanding we had a great time with one another.

Through this instance I realized something profound. My communication to the children was out of my selfish desire for progress and for time to pass. Nothing was accomplished until I grasped that my teaching was fully for them. Our efforts to help, teach, or instruct others are completely futile when we have ourselves in mind. In removing yourself from consideration, you are allowed to wholly serve others. Even if we’re speaking the same language, a selfish motivation provides a barrier greater than any language can create.

The day I left college for good

2006-05-25T10:56:00.000-07:00

The Montero made its smooth, familiar whirr as I carefully pulled away from the U-Haul dealership. As the thick May air blew against my face, I began to congratulate myself for finishing college. Four years ago, I had arrived a green, passionate 18 year old, dying to get started in the ministry. My ambition outweighed my naivety and I was excited to watch my future unfold. “Oh, how different I am from then,” I thought. That streak of naivety was gone and I had matured spiritually. Things were so different now. Feeling good about my progress in life, I turned up the radio. “Take it Easy,” by the Eagles (one of my all-time favorites) played on the classic rock station, and by “...lighten up if ya still can,” I was immersed in singing along. As suddenly as I started enjoying it, I was swept away by memories that accompany the song. I found myself 7 years old with Dad in his MG going to soccer practice, 12, with Mom cleaning my room in Alabama, 16, driving home after a football game, and 18, driving to college. That last one remained in my mind…

Four years before, I had driven the same car, full of the same stuff, on the same roads, having the same quixotic expectations of my future, while listening to the same song. This realization crept from my brain and down my spine to my stomach, unsettling it. Thus, I asked myself, “Was anything really different from 2002?” I had several years worth of great experiences and abundance of amazing new friends, but was I different? I had taken 47 classes, possessed a mini library, and a degree that proved it all, but did it do any good? I had spent 3 of my 4 years working as a youth minister at a church, but was that church any different? I had worked endless hours maintaining the grounds on campus, but did that really benefit me...or anyone else? Is it possible that the past the past four years could be reduced to a solitary piece of paper? Utterly puzzled and slightly depressed, I continued down that same road and cranked up the radio until the sound of Glenn Frey’s advice drowned out my thoughts.