Friday, November 16, 2007

Was Joseph ever called Jesus' baby daddy?

In this season of Christmas, I like to watch Christmas movies. Without snow and sometimes rather warm weather, the only thing that gets me in the mood is shopping and movies. I have compiled a list of movies that I would like to see before Christmas arrives. If you have any good ones, please share them with me.

-Elf
-It's A Wonderful Life
-Santa Clause
-Home Alone 1 & 2
-Family Man
-The Grinch
-Fred Claus
-Christmas with the Kranks
-Charlie Brown Christmas
-Jingle All The Way
-The Nativity Story
-ABC Family Christmas movie

No Re2grets

The intramural football season at UCF was coming to a quick end. All season long, The Franchise, had fought hard; not only in the games but against both the refs and administrators. We were a hated team. Nobody liked us. We had something to prove. We wanted to win.

The playoffs had begun and we easily had advanced through the first couple rounds. Our semifinal showdown was set for Pi Kappa Alpha, aka Pike. All the practices, hard work and game plans would be put to the test. We had our work cut out for us. However, we did feel confident. The motivation of playing a frat team was fuel enough. They were what we wanted. A frat team has a swagger like they are the best thing that has ever happened to this planet. Not only did we want to prove something to the UCF staff, we wanted to show those frat boys what we could do.

All these events were taking place during the month of November but to get a clearer understanding, we need to venture back to the summer of that year. My mom likes to make vacation plans early like most people do. She asked if I would like to visit my cousin in NYC and without hesitation, I said yes. Who would pass on a trip to the Big Apple in November? As great as Florida is, it’s nice to see the fall colors, feel the cold wind rip through your clothes and be in a big city full of mass chaos and excitement. Little did I know when I signed up that this vacation would start the same day as our football game.

Herein likes the conflict. What should I do? My team needed me. It wasn’t like I was the back-up punter and had a little role on the team. I was the QB - The one that touched the ball every play - The one that the offense ran through. I made the decisions - Who got the ball and how it would get there. They needed me there. They needed their leader.

I loved sports and I loved both playing and winning with The Franchise. It brought so much happiness and joy. I’d like to say that I really weighed my options and thought about it but I’d be lying if I said that. I was going to NYC and I was hoping my team would pull of a victory in my absence.

My flight left on a Thursday afternoon in Tampa and the big game was later that day in Orlando. I remember flying into La Guardia, dropping off our stuff and heading down to eat at the ESPN Zone. My buddy called me later while I was in the middle of Times Square to share the news with me. We had lost and it was ugly. I felt bad. My team needed me. As much as I can sit here and sulk in the lost and the people that I let down that day, I have no regrets about it. As I’ve told them once and Ill say it again – I would do it again if I had too.

Certain things in life you have to do – no matter what the cost. It’s a now or never thing. You get one shot. One chance to experience it. Who knows when God will shut the door and leave you questioning - I wonder what would have happened if…

**we had many more semifinal appearances and many more shots at frat teams of which we never lost another game**

Monday, November 5, 2007

Ba1ck In The Day

Ah, childhood memories. The good old days as we often call them. How we wish we could just go back to being a kid again.

Freedom - No worries – Just live and have fun

Memories from my childhood:
Hitting a baseball over my house and onto the street when I was 2 - Scoring the winning touchdown in a make believe game of football with my grandpas - Summer vacations to Indiana - Playing hide and seek with my grandparents at the park - Playing playground kickball with Mr. Mills - Traveling all over Florida to play soccer - Ski trips to Tennessee and Colorado

All my memories involve either sports or my family. Sometimes both. Everything else is fuzzy. I really can’t remember things outside of these areas from days in middle or high school. I don’t know if I erased them from my memory or they are just tucked way back and I can’t seem to find them. Does anyone else have this problem?

Why is it that good memories from our past are so alive and vivid in our head that we could retrace each and every step from that particular moment? I could replay a soccer game in Orange Park when I was ten like it happened this morning. Or relive sitting in a hot tub while it was snowing with my family in Tennessee. Good stuff is so easy to remember.

The dark things in our past however– the things we wish we never were a part of – where do they go? Does God take them from us so we don’t have to live in that hurt and pain anymore? Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying that I had this terrible childhood or awful school experience. There were some things that I’m glad that I can’t remember any longer. I just want to know why. Where did all those things go?

As Psalm 103:12 says,
“As far as the east is from the west,
so far has He removed our transgressions from us.”
He removes all of our sins the moment that we accept His free gift of eternal life. Does this count for all the bad memories? Does God wipe those all away too?

It almost seems like God is putting us one step closer to the glory and magnificence that we will see one day when we step foot into Heaven. Heaven, like our childhood, is a place of freedom - no worries - just live and have fun. I couldn’t think of anything more fun than hanging with God. I’ll still be able to score touchdowns, play hide and seek and go skiing. Now He is the one throwing the touchdowns, hiding from me and sitting with me on the ski lift. How cool.

Back from that bunny trail and to the question – where does all the pain go? I actually want to believe that God takes it all away. He took it all on the cross. All my sin. All my past. Why wouldn't He take all my hurt and pain? Why do you think He suffered so much?