Tuesday, September 12, 2006
HOW MUCH DOES THIS SOUND LIKE MESSAGE OF JESUS AND THE STATE OF OUR WORLD TODAY?
"I start from the supposition that the world is topsy-turvy, that things are all wrong, that the wrong people are in jail and the wrong people are out of jail, that the wrong people are in power and the wrong people are out of power... I start from the supposition that we don't have to say too much about this because all we have to do is think about the state of the world today and realize that things are all upside down."
A Quote from Howard Zinn - historian, civil rights activist, leftist thinker
"I start from the supposition that the world is topsy-turvy, that things are all wrong, that the wrong people are in jail and the wrong people are out of jail, that the wrong people are in power and the wrong people are out of power... I start from the supposition that we don't have to say too much about this because all we have to do is think about the state of the world today and realize that things are all upside down."
A Quote from Howard Zinn - historian, civil rights activist, leftist thinker
HE'S THERE IN THE MIDDLE PUSHING AGAINST TWO BLOCKERS
Sunday, September 10, 2006
THAT'S MY BOY
Football has taken over the Howard family. (Currently it's Bengals 17, Chiefs 3! Wahoo!). However, the NFL has not taken us over. Our lives have been overthrown by Pee Wee football. 4th grade football. Practice 3 nights a week. Games on Saturday.
A couple of weeks ago I had had a enough. I don't mind sitting through the 6 hours of practice or the 1 1/2 of game, but when the 4th grader doesn't try, it's torture. He was just trotting through practice, not trying. We sat down with him and made it clear that we didn't need to waste our time. If he didn't practice like he wanted to play, we would all be a lot happier at home.
He set a goal that day. At the end of practice, they run the width of the field four times. His goal was to come in 9th place which we thought was an ambitious goal for a kid who normally finished in the back half of the the pack.
That night he ran. For the first time he tried and gave it his all. He finished in third. He came off the field grinning saying, "I came in third. And it hurt." He loved the feeling of accomplishment and has practiced hard ever since. It's been fun to watch.
Yesterday, he played in his second game of the season. The boy weighs 53 pounds soaking wet. There might be one guy on the team thats smaller than him. And they play him at nose tackle.
He lined up against a center that looked like he drove to the game. The opposing team had driven down to the 10 yard line. They lined up, hiked the ball, and the little guy shot through the line, got blocked from behind and ran into the quarterback, causing a fumble. The Eagles (his team) landed on the ball, and the boy is a hero.
There is something in a Father that wells up in him in moments like that. I wept with pride. It's the kind of feeling that even the face mask penalty he had called on him in the second half couldn't touch.
Today we sat in church together. For the first time, he read the words of the songs and sang with me. I wept again.
I am too soft to be a dad.
Football has taken over the Howard family. (Currently it's Bengals 17, Chiefs 3! Wahoo!). However, the NFL has not taken us over. Our lives have been overthrown by Pee Wee football. 4th grade football. Practice 3 nights a week. Games on Saturday.
A couple of weeks ago I had had a enough. I don't mind sitting through the 6 hours of practice or the 1 1/2 of game, but when the 4th grader doesn't try, it's torture. He was just trotting through practice, not trying. We sat down with him and made it clear that we didn't need to waste our time. If he didn't practice like he wanted to play, we would all be a lot happier at home.
He set a goal that day. At the end of practice, they run the width of the field four times. His goal was to come in 9th place which we thought was an ambitious goal for a kid who normally finished in the back half of the the pack.
That night he ran. For the first time he tried and gave it his all. He finished in third. He came off the field grinning saying, "I came in third. And it hurt." He loved the feeling of accomplishment and has practiced hard ever since. It's been fun to watch.
Yesterday, he played in his second game of the season. The boy weighs 53 pounds soaking wet. There might be one guy on the team thats smaller than him. And they play him at nose tackle.
He lined up against a center that looked like he drove to the game. The opposing team had driven down to the 10 yard line. They lined up, hiked the ball, and the little guy shot through the line, got blocked from behind and ran into the quarterback, causing a fumble. The Eagles (his team) landed on the ball, and the boy is a hero.
There is something in a Father that wells up in him in moments like that. I wept with pride. It's the kind of feeling that even the face mask penalty he had called on him in the second half couldn't touch.
Today we sat in church together. For the first time, he read the words of the songs and sang with me. I wept again.
I am too soft to be a dad.
