The human body is impressive, and yet who really thinks about its complexities until something goes awry? It is at that point of failure that you realize how much you rely on your (insert ailing body part here) as a critical component to your overall physiology, mentality, etc. In my case, a simple bruised knee (we'll call it that until the MRI {invented by young earth creationist Dr. Damadian} reveals more), affects everything I do, even the way I rest.

Researching your injury or disease, realizing how your body is supposed to work and recognizing how your body can heal itself right down to your DNA, opens your eyes to just how fearfully and wonderfully made you are. I thank God for this. Granted, because of sin and the curse, we are all dying, some in my life doing so with a great deal of peace, even joy, despite the pain.  What a testament to how the indwelt Holy Spirit can change one's perspective, focusing on the hope we have in Him. God teaches us that in and through everything, we are to thank Him (Eph 5:20, 1 Thess 5:18). That can only be done with the right heart.

In light of all those who are suffering greatly, I realize that I am hardly qualified to write on such matters. Indeed, I've never had but a light affliction. Nevertheless, I am thankful for prayers and for Gods provision, and amazed at His crowning achievement of creation.

I typically get up before everyone else in the house, and during the winter months it is quite dark. If I were more preparatory, I'd have everything ready for me to start my day set out the night before, rather than feeling my way through drawers and closets looking for something to wear.

But lately I've geen using God's Word in a way I've not thought of before. Every night, before I go to bed, I read the Bible on my PDA. It gives off it's own light, so I don't need a lamp to read it.  It's a great way to end the day.

But I've learned it's also a great way to start the day. Instead of hunting in the dark for a matching pair of socks, I use that pda to illuminate my path. Indeed,

Thy Word is a lamp to my feet, and a light for my path. Psalm 119:105.

It's probably time for me to man up, but I'm just forlorn over having to get rid of my last cat. Is she the most loving cat in the world? Probably not. Is it normal for a grown man to be sad, perhaps even a little teary (actually, I just got something in my eye), over having to say goodbye to what will likely be his last cat in a long line of kitties extending from early childhood? Yes, that is totally normal. Allergies are definitely part of the Curse. Allergies, aquired late in life, are just plain excessively cruel.

It's not like we're sending her to a gas chamber, in fact, we're sending her to Greg, who is an answer to prayer - a guy with two big fat cats already, and who obviously loves them. Next to being able to keep her, this is the best thing.

So, so long Claire. I will miss you. Below is an email I wrote to her new owner.

Dear G,

Here are some things Claire likes and suggestions for a smooth transition. When we moved out of one house into another, I put her and Yummy’s cat carrier in the closet in our new room, in our new home.  It took her quite a while to emerge from the carrier, let alone the closet, but of course she eventually did. You may wish to employ the same technique, modified in such a way to accommodate her new four legged housemates.

As far as bathroom arrangements go, I can provide you with our giant litter pan if you think that is a good idea. I’m sure you know the drill of how to introduce a cat to her litter pan so I won’t go there 

Claire’s favorite toy is the ring around a gallon milk jug. Toss one her way and she’ll scoot it down the tile or other smooth flooring surface until it ends up underneath the stove or fridge. I  have plenty if you need some. I also may have a Christmas stocking too .

Her favorite nighttime routine is to crawl under my blanket as I read on the couch and of course get petted. Regardless of where I go, there she is.

Hopefully she’ll feel right at home with you. Surely at some point she’ll run to the door upon your arrival home as she does to me. Maybe she’ll even let you scoop her up and rub her belly. I hope you all get everything worked out.

The Kirby Highkick sounds like the name of a band. However, it is in reality far more ominous. If you see these two aging clowns wrastlin' at a ski resort parking lot near you this season, please, do not engage them. Simply come over to the sidelines and enjoy the spectacle with me while it lasts (generally under 15 seconds before they get winded or pull a muscle). Of course, my natural instinct is to stop these hooligans, because the result of this particular bout ended with a shortened snowboard trip by 1.5 days.

Friends don't let friends pretend they're Randy Couture.

Needing a little ambiance for the next time I host a UFC event:

Perhaps I can recommend a new scent : PAIN :-)

Well, we finally managed to get the family packed up for a trip to the Creation Museum. If you can go on a Monday in November, you will have a great opportunity to experience the exhibits without having to peer over someone's sholder. With a few exceptions, such as the Stargazer Planetarium and the Special Effects Theater, we had our pick of seats, and the lines were non-existent, giving us the opportunity to take as much or as little time as we needed. After a handful of guests stopped and talked to Dr. Georgia Purdom after her talk, my wife and I had her all to ourselves in the Dragon Hall bookstore, as we peppered her with questions on how to evangelize, how to get a church fired up over this issue, etc. Dr. David Menton's "Microscarium" presentation where we used a flat screen tv to view what kinds of God's creatures could be seen by peering into a drop of water from the pond outside, was an impressive look at just how complex a "simple" single celled protozoa can be as we watched them twirl like tops to gather their food.

Despite having the whole museum pretty much to ourselves, we had to scramble to see everything in one day, and in fact missed quite a bit. The kids didn't get to partake in the two Dino Mite Readers programs, I missed a talk, as well as a second Planetarium exhibit on the planets. You could easily spend over a day there. It was almost too cold to visit the petting zoo, but that, feeding the fish off of the deck, and the maze, all outdoor activities, were some of the favorites on their list. The kids also enjoyed the entryway, with the exhibits and live animals, tremendously, along with the Dinosaur Den, and the treasure hunt. The more things that can keep the kids captivated, the better the family experience will be.

It was great to see the Museum completed, since the last time I was there it was under construction. While in town, we talked up the Museum as much as we could. We were amazed to find out how few locals have been there, despite the Museum breaking all projected attendance estimations. While some have never heard of it despite living 20 minutes away, others complained that it was too expensive. We urged them to go regardless. The Museum is top notch, and of the highest quality, and I have no doubt the operating budget is immense. I'm sure any financial barrier that could be removed, has been, so that more people have a greater opportunity to experience the Truth at this unique institution.

It was a great trip. I hope to do this once a year, and would like to organize a church trip, though coordinating a weekend trip to a destination five hours away and getting back back for Sunday Morning Service would be quite a challenge.

From Jewish World Review

Amazing how quickly the punditocracy switches maps, time zones and histories, simultaneously mastering new combinations of consonants and vowels, to report and react to a "surprise" conflict in Georgia. It's almost hard to recall that, just a few days ago, the most urgent questions confounding most of the media had to do with just how narcissistic John Edwards really is, or what the ramifications of Barack Obama's plans to announce his vice presidential pick via text message might finally be.

Since the sight of tanks rolling usually has a way of concentrating the media mind, the question has become: Whither Russia?

Historical memory somewhat refreshed, Western media were ready with the headlines - "The evil empire is back"; "Welcome to the 19th century"; "The Russian bear's new teeth" - to promote the main thrust of most stories: namely, that Russia is reverting to tsarist, expansionist, Soviet-style, empire-amassing type.

And why is this important?

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First of all, let me say that I thank God for the cardiovascular ability He has given me, and the desire to use it. I mean, ever since I was a kid racing big wheels in little organized races, I was aware of my own love for racing. If there was someone in front of me, I wanted to catch him. If there was someone I could lap, I wanted to lap them. Nowadays, as the years go by, I have had to get accustomed resisting my tendency to react in dog-like fashion whenever the veritable "rabbit" crosses my path; I simply cannot go on forever anymore. But I can still have fun trying.

In last Friday's Hillsboro Biathlon, I remember taking off on the 5 mile run with a smile. It's not the first time I've had that reaction. It was a gorgeous morning. I was thankful to be able to do this. And I was really cooking, if I may say that. Normally I see a lot of people ahead of me, but most of the superfast types must have skipped this race, because I was doing quite well in the standings. I managed to hold my own for the most part, and the smile, which was long gone by then, managed to return at the end of my 5 miles when I heard my family cheering for me.

Now for my favorite part - hopping on the bike. Hillsboro is always a little different because I'm guaranteed at least one calf cramp in that race, and have to coast on a few occasions to work out the cramps as they creep up. Nevertheless, I held on, only being passed by one person in the 20 mile adventure.

The rest of the Fourth of July weekend was full of action as well, with some four wheelin' in Taylorville after the race, and a birthday party with a cousin from Columbia, MO and his family meeting at our place to have a birthday party for his daughter with her grandmother from Chicago. Did you get all that? Good "times" all around.

Not too long ago I subscribed to a very good publication called HM Magazine, and one of the articles I looked forward to reading was "Devotions with Greg Tucker." Greg is a pastor out in California, and that's all I knew about the guy. There is an individual who goes to my church named Jeff, with the same last name, Tucker.

Knowing that there are about as many Tuckers as there are Smiths in the world, on a whim I asked him anyway: "Do you have a relative who is a pastor in California named 'Greg?'" Jeff said yes. As it turns out, So I've been reading and enjoying devotionals written by the brother of a friend of mine without even knowing it.

That was quite a coincidence. Yesterday Greg flew in to take part in a funeral of a person who was like a father to him at our church, so I got to meet him, tell him this neat story, and let him know I enjoyed his devotionals. It was a fun experience.

Panther Creek Challenge

I haven't written anything about this summer's short yet sweet race season, and it feels like a good time to wrap things up with a quick post about this Saturday's Panther Creek Challenge 2007 at the Jim Edgar Panther Creek State Fish and Wildlife area.

My family made a day of it. We were involved in three races, one for my wife, one for my kids, and one for myself. My wife made a spontaneous decision earlier in the week to race in the "first timer's" category at 10:00 a.m. - a 5 mile loop around Drake Lake, and finished 2nd of about 5-10 riders. I am very proud of her spunk, spontaneousness, and stellar athleticism. While she raced, the kids and I collected flowers for her, along with some frogs and bugs. She liked the flowers best, and it wasn't until much later that we found out that the yellow variety I had picked for her was actually ragweed, which she's allergic to. No wonder I've never seen it in a flower shop. Drama ensued when the biggest grasshopper you ever did see clamped down on my 4 year old's finger just as my wife was approaching the finish line. It made for some interesting audio on the camcorder. Bad grasshopper! As a way of making an example of him, we took that big grasshopper and threw him into the lake.

Later, the kids raced a small loop around the prairie and took home 1st and 3rd place medals as their over-protective father ran behind them and boxed out any competitors. They were very excited, and spent the remainder of the day hanging out on the playground and chasing their friends around the prairie.

But enough about them :-)

My race began at 1:30, the "sport" class which consisted of a 17 mile loop around Prairie Lake. My endurance for the 1+ hour race was questionable, given that my training consisted solely of bike commutes of 7.5 miles, or 25 minutes, twice a day. I had ridden trails only once in over a year.

In addition, there was no "expert" class, and so I anticipated the pace to be fast. And it was. The race started out with a 1/4 mile mad dash down a gravel-ish road which bottlenecked into the trailhead - the recipe for a spectacular crash site. I was positioned fourth as we headed into the trail system. I suddenly realized my heart was in my already dry throat, my legs were burning, and I was gasping for air. I expected this, given the desire not to get behind a slow trail rider, but I wasn't at all happy about it.

Within one mile, I had moved up one place into third, but the gap was widening between myself and the second place rider, and I was still gasping. I couldn't even see the guy in first place. He was gone. I continued to ride in the "red zone" because I wasn't willing to settle for third. But my heart rate was too high and I couldn't keep the pace for much longer. That's when I glanced behind me and saw another rider swiftly approaching. With the pace he was keeping as he passed, I was no longer worried about catching the 2nd place rider, but rather being out of medal contention altogether. This was mile four, and I was in fourth place.

Up to this point, I was still not comfortable on the bike. My trail skills weren't where they should be and I was making the turns very slowly. It was on one of those turns where the third place rider ahead of me sealed the deal and vanished on the trail ahead of me. I succumbed to the realization that I was not going to catch them, and I settled into a slower pace. It was then that it happened. Satisfied with just being out there, having fun with my family, who all have taken on a passion for biking equivalent to my own, riding along on a beautiful Saturday, I remember smiling. I remember pedaling in circles, adjusting my front and rear suspension, hitting the corners better, leaning into the curves, accelerating out of them, going faster, while at the same time, controlling my breathing. I felt lighter. I started thinking to myself, could I catch them? No way. But the thought began to warrant a real possibility. In jest, and perhaps due to dehydration, I imagined myself defiantly waving my fist at the trail ahead of me and yelling "don't count me out yet!" Hee.

Where the sun peeked through the canopy, I began to see something - dust in the air. DUST! That could only mean one thing - I was gaining on a rider! I couldn't believe it. Before long, there he was! The former 2nd place rider was right in front of me. I passed him around mile 12 and kept going. Motivated, I began to wonder... Surely I can't catch another rider... But if this guy could be caught...

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