At a Conference...

We are at a marriage conference at my church. It is really good because this guy actually sticks up for the Bros in the audience and doesn't just bash them. I look forward to putting this into practice. BTW the name of the conference is Love and Respect.

Best Valentines Day Ever!!!

Well in case you weren't aware of the fact that I had the best wife in the world let me tell what happened very recently. My awesome wife purchased the best gift a man could ever ask for. A home brew kit! Finally I am the master of all that I survey, and man with no formidable foe, no enemy left to vanquish. This is a time of manifest destiny.

So what did your woman get you?

PS-Party at my house in two and a half weeks (that is how long it will take)
PS PS- I did get my wife some awesome gifts(Season passes to Disneyland, and a chair from Cost Plus) as well in case you thought I was being chauvinist.

My latest business venture...

My latest entrepreneurial endeavor involves a bunch of VW Beetles and an electric conversion. Thats right we are making electric cars! Get your name on the waiting list soon and before it is too late.

Beginning of a new era

This is a test post from my new phone lets see how it works.

Child birth has nothin on me!!!

I had my first ever stay in the ER about two weeks ago, which has been the reason for the absence of activity on this site. It all started when I was in line with my family for the Finding Nemo submarine adventure at Disneyland (yes we got our annual passes), I noticed a faint nagging pain in the lower part of my stomach that had refused to go away even after several coaxing attempts in various restrooms throughout the park. The pain continued to escalate to the point that I asked my wife if we could leave the park early and head home (we had already spent the last day and a half there). On the way home what started as a slight pain blew up into what I firmly consider God's Holy Wrath on my intestinal system.

We get into the car and my wife drives like mad. It took us a little more than three hours to get from Anaheim to Fresno, to give you an idea. All along the way we are calling anyone and everyone we know that has any medical background to diagnose what has to be a demon forming inside of me. We also coordinated a parental pickup of our son so that I could be ushered directly to the ER with no additional stopping.

If I had thought that the drive home was long then I was wholly unprepared for what was in store for me in the ER; Six and a half hours of sitting in a chair watching bad (I mean really bad) television and watching everyone get seen before me. Finally when Julie bugged the triage nurse a third time they put me into a room and I prepared for the worst.

it is now 1:30 am and they set up an IV and start pumping some painkillers into my system. Then I go for and X-ray, CT scan, and three doctors come by to poke at my sore spot (not fun). About two hours later we get the diagnosis:

Diverticulitis

If you haven't heard of it that is probably because you are under the age of 60. Yes that is correct I now have an old man condition. I always thought I was a bit mature for my age but this is a little extreme. So far I have gotten advice from a my wife's grandparents and a couple of their ilk. The only token I have beside some looming medical expenditure is that fact that several sources (including mothers) have confirmed that Diverticulitis is more painful than child birth.

Lucky me.

A fan of word pictures...

I was attending an absolutely heart wrenching/warming funeral this weekend for a dear friend of the family. She was a saint that graced us with her presence for only 48 very short years. My home church's sanctuary of over 2,200 seats was nearly filled to capacity. However the main reason I choose to write this post is in regards to what one of my favorite people said at the funeral. Our executive Pastor Doug Holck delivered an absolutely devastating word picture (his term not mine) for the eulogy. It is perfect for casting God-sized vision in a message and wonderfully bittersweet and capable of creating perspective at such a tough funeral as my wife and I found ourselves. I shall spare you the suspense and allow to read what I begged him to post after hearing it. Here it is in it's entirety:

At the "Celebration of Life" Service for Rose MacAlpine, I shared the following account of a flying experiencing while traveling with our Pastor, GL Johnson, some friends and associates:

One of the memories of my time here at PC is a trip with Pastor Johnson, Ed Baloian, and a couple of others on our staff. We were flying in Ed’s plane, returning home via Arizona. In the distance I could see Mt. Whitney, the highest mountain in the continental US. The more I looked at it through the window of the plane, the more certain I was that we were going to crash into the mountain—it would be the end. Finally, trying to sound brave, but wanting to alert the pilot to the looming mountain, I said something to Ed, who was facing me. Without looking over his shoulder, he stated, “If you can see the horizon beyond the mountain, you’ve nothing to worry about. You’ll fly right over it. You’re in trouble, when all you can see is the mountain.”

Some would see death as a mountain, spelling an end. Rose saw it as a fly over point as she moved into the forever horizon of God’s eternal heaven.

If all you can see is the mountain, you’re in trouble.

I told you it was good; in case you are interested in more goodies I have him linked in the side bar just over to the right.

What you don't know...

can kill you, or at least your new dog. We surprised our son this Christmas with a new puppy that we had picked out from the pound. But little did we know what lurked in the intestines of what would become a very temporary member of our family. After many disasterous bodily expulsions we decided it was time to go to the vet. There the vet informed us as to what was ailing our little puppy. It is called Parvo and it is basically a death sentence for puppies unless you can fork over about $2,000 or more for a hospital stay. Needless to say we couldn't and so "Pico" now lives in the proverbial big farm where he can be happy and run and play as much as he wants.


Side Note- Telling your kid that the dog died is about the hardest thing my wife and I have had to do in a long time.