O-Dark-Thirty

I'm a gamer. That used to be something you never said out loud. Gamers were pariahs. A lot has changed in forty years. Now Gamers are cool. Are you playing the game or is the game playing you? A lot of games have perfected the art of sucking you into a free game - then you pay. To avoid waiting. They hooked us on that one. To have bigger, better armies. Yup. To have equipment that others don't. Ouch. To have special mounts. (Thanks, WoW. Loved you.) It's psychology, and the game-makers mastered it. I quit playing Elvenar. The makers of the game hit me in my weak spot. They know I don't like waiting, so a few crystals here, a few crystals there and I'm moving again in the game. Crystals cost real money. Pretty soon it adds up. The game is free. Playing it isn't, unless you can resist. Resistance is futile. The Plarium games are worse. They know I don't like waiting, and I can pay to skip that (and have). They also know I don&

Sagemont Church planted 38,000 flags in remembrance of all the fallen soldiers from Texas. I helped put a few flags out. It was my honor to do so. Memorial Day is not a holiday celebrated by those in uniform, as Colonel Allen Orr reminded us during church service yesterday. It is a day to remember with gratitude the men and women who sacrificed their lives in service to us, their fellow countrymen. It is a day to honor those among us who still strive to provide the peace our country needs: those in the military, those in the civil uniforms of police and fire, and those who teach the next generation of United States citizens. For me it is a day to thank most members of my family. My Great Uncle Jerry, who also served in WWII (and met his bride in England). My Great Uncle Dwight, who served with him. My Great Uncle Floyd. Grandpa Comfort, who was in the Air Force in WWII. Grandpa Mac and Grandma Jen, who both served in WWII. Mom, in the Navy when I was born. Dad, a Na

My Uncle Told Me bad company corrupts good morals. I didn't believe it when I was young. Other people weren't going to change me. Yeah, they can, and yes, they did. I got through college and hardly ever swore. I rarely said "D***" and never used the F word. Ever. That was something else he told me. Cursing is for the lazy and weak-minded who don't know how to express themselves. After a few years working in the chemical plant alongside some very rough characters, I changed. One day I was in an office in the main building and vehemently gave my opinion about some software we used. I was called in to Personnel, where they told me someone complained about my language. They reprimanded me for it. Rightly so, and shame overwhelmed me. I thought how disappointed my Mother would be. I thought how right my Uncle was. Learning NOT to swear was hard. Once you learn to do something bad, it is really hard to get back to the straight and narrow. The o

It's an age-old struggle. You make a promise to yourself to do better, to do more ... maybe just to do - and you don't. I've heard people I admire say "I must not be a very good Christian." I guess they think Christians are immune to failure, like Jesus is some shot you get that protects you from doing wrong. Let's get some perspective on that, shall we? Can we all agree that the apostle Paul, admittedly a late-comer to the apostle group, was a pretty good Christian? He was quite likely a pretty good fellow, too. Well-educated, well-traveled, a great speaker - I imagine he had a story for almost any occasion, and was probably pretty great to listen to. There was this one time he spoke for so long that a young fellow hanging out in a window fell asleep, dropped three stories and died. It's okay. Paul raised him back to life (Acts 20:9-10). So let's agree that Paul had it all together. I can't raise people from sleep who listen to me and Pa

"Who do men say that I am?" Jesus asked this question of his disciples, yet it echoes down to us through the centuries. The question remains relevant to this day. If you ask most people that are not Christian, they will tell you they think Jesus was a good man, a great teacher - perhaps even a prophet. Would a good man concoct a lie which ensnared generations of people? Only a devious man would do such a thing. Would a great teacher tell his followers, and the Jewish people, that He now fulfilled the law and was God incarnate? Only a lunatic would do so. So, Liar or Lunatic - those are your only options, but certainly not that He was a good man and a great teacher. There is a third option. Jesus is exactly who He said He was, the bodily personification of God. Accept the third option and you're faced with two choices - accept Him as God or not. Peter answered the question of Jesus with "You are the Christ, the son of the Livin

The message in church on Sunday was clear - you get into heaven by Christ alone, by the price he already paid. You just need to accept the gift. This is the key difference between Christianity and other religions. You don't need to give all your money away. You don't need to follow a set of rules written in other books. You don't need to kill infidels or martyr yourself (which seems a contradiction to me anyway). The death and resurrection of Jesus Christ is all you need. Your ticket is punched. Your seat is reserved. You just need to get on the train. There. That summed it up. Funny, though. The preacher took over twenty minutes to give that same message. It's like I said during our Ecuador mission trip when they asked me to speak. Tengo solamente cinco minutos hablar. Pero en el Bautista Iglesia, cinco minutos son todos los tiempos! Yeah, I don't know if the Spanish was correct, but it got a laugh.

There is no potato salad in Heaven, at least according to Dr Charles Lowery , a guest speaker at our church Sunday. FYI, he's an entertaining speaker, so you might want to check out his web site or YouTube channel . He emphasizes relationships. All I know about relationships is they are hard to forge and harder to maintain. My ears perked up when he said there was no potato salad in Heaven. I like potato salad, probably too much. In the Baptist church, as in most religions, when someone dies there is a gathering of people to mourn, quite often at a church, as was the case for my youngest brother a few years ago . One of the staples at such gatherings is potato salad. It's a comfort food, I guess. I know I feel better when I eat potato salad. So, since there are no tears in Heaven, and we will never see death again, there is no potato salad in Heaven. No pain, no sorrow, no death. We exit this life into a better eternity.  Without potato salad? I think Dr