Ministering to the homeless this Christmas season

Guys I know many of you are like me and have a heart for helping the homeless. It can be especially hard for these men and women this time of year, because not only is it cold, but it's the holiday season and many of these people are away from their families; many do not have families, and others are alienated from their families by their choice or otherwise. Please remember that these people are people, and not "worthless or trash." My uncle Gerald was one of these people. If you feel led, please donate coats through the Deo Clinic in Dalton or at any of the local missions this season. The Salvation Army always needs clothing, food, and other supplies. Do not think they have enough, because they never do. Shoes are also a big deal for a homeless person. Most of all, pray for these people and their families. Believe me, some of these people have family members somewhere who are worried about them. If you feel led, buy someone a meal and give it to them in person. Many of these people live amongst us, but feel invisible, and alienated from the rest of the world. Below are some steps for helping the homeless this holiday season.

--Erik


Eight Ways to Truly Help the Homeless (From the Association of Gospel Rescue Missions)




What do you do when you see someone holding up a sign, "Will Work for Food"? Do you roll down your window and give them money? Do you pretend you didn't see them?

Nobody likes to be confronted by the homeless - their needs often seem too overwhelming - but we all want to treat them fairly and justly.

Here are some simple guidelines to equip you to truly help the homeless people you meet:

1. Never give cash to a homeless person
Too often, well intended gifts are converted to drugs or alcohol - even when the "hard luck" stories they tell are true. If the person is hungry, buy them a sandwich and a beverage.

2. Talk to the person with respect.
Taking time to talk to a homeless person in a friendly, respectful manner can give them a wonderful sense of civility and dignity. And besides being just neighborly, it gives the person a weapon to fight the isolation, depression and paranoia that many homeless people face.

3. Recognize that homeless people (and their problems) are not all the same.
The homeless are as diverse as the colors of a rainbow. The person you meet may be a battered women, an addicted veteran, someone who is lacking job skills...the list goes on.

4. Share God's love whenever you can.
If Jesus were walking the earth today, He would certainly spend time with the homeless. He would speak with them, heal them, and help them. Today, Jesus chooses to work through those who believe and follow Him.

5. Pray for the homeless.
Exposure to the elements, dirt, occasional violence, and lack of purpose all drain years from a person's life. God can use your prayers and the brutality and the futility of life of the street to bring many of the broken to Himself.

6. Take precautions for your own safety.
Some living on the streets are criminals and fugitives running from the law. Always be prudent while talking with street people. Stay in areas where other people can see you. Don't take unnecessary chances.

7. Encourage the homeless to get help through your local Mission.
Rescue missions that are members of the Association of Gospel Rescue Missions offer immediate food and shelter to the homelessness through their emergency shelters. Many offer long-term rehabilitation programs that deal with the root causes of homeless. Many also offer "tickets" that can be given to homeless people which can be exchanged at the Mission for a nutritious meal, safe overnight lodging, and the option of participating in a rehab program.

8. Support your local Mission.
Most AGRM member missions receive little or no government funding. They are supported by caring individuals, churches, businesses, and civic groups who see the value of sharing their resources with the less fortunate.

It's so terrible...but I cannot stop laughing

Okay, so at age 30 my body is falling apart right before your very eyes. The doc said my cholesterol and trigliceride levels are too high; I more than likely have type 2 diabetes, and today the sleep lab called and said I have severe sleep apnea, which left un-treated could kill me in my sleep. No wonder I feel like Rip Van Winkle all day long. Oh well, at least most of my body parts still work. I mean it does not take a Harvard grad to figure out that being overweight is causing all this. If only I could just stop eating, or maybe if I just ate Jello from now on. And even though these things are severe, I am not getting down about it. I have been down about stupid things my entire life. I know that these things can be treated, but most of all I know God is in control. If I didn't have that hope, I would be in a bad place right now. I lived through most of my 20s (almost all of them) in a bad place away from God, hopeless and afraid, but not any more. God will see me through.

Well, back to trying to stay awake ha-ha. Love you guys!
EG

My day

Guys if you don't believe that God is working in our lives every day, let me tell you a quick story about my day so far. As soon as my wife and I got in the car this morning, and I cranked the engine, our theme song from weekend 31 began playing, as if it had been cued up for that exact moment. The sky was a beautiful brush stroke of red and orange, and I looked at my wife and said, "He's telling us something today, isn't He?"
If you don't know, I work at a school and I am in charge of In-School Suspension (it's like having detention all day), and this year has been particularly difficult. One teacher told me yesterday that the 10th grade class this year is the worst she's seen in 40 years. I believe it. Of the 243 different kids I've had in ISS this year, 139 have been 10th graders or kids who are one or two credits from being 10th graders. So today as I was taking the kids to lunch they were just irritating me, and I felt like snapping. We eat lunch at the same time as the severly special ed. class, and one of the students in that class asked me how I was doing. I said, "I can't complain, how about you?" She looked me square in the eye and said, "At least we have Jesus." Wow! I was like, "Yes, we do young lady. I needed that. Thank you!" It's amazing how God reveals himself in "the least of these."

Have a great one guys!
De Colores,

From the One campaign

Even in tough economic times, we want to make sure the next president, no matter who that is, keeps his commitment to fighting global poverty.

The total spent on all poverty-fighting programs make up less than one percent of the entire U.S. budget, yet we are saving millions of lives and helping the world's poorest people break free from crippling poverty. These efforts will be even more critical as the effects of any global economic slowdown are magnified in already struggling countries.

I just took action with ONE to tell my leaders to keep their promises to the world's poor, and you can too, here:

http://www.one.org/keepourcommitments/?rc=koctaf
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Been tagged

If I tag you, you have to fill this out and tag five others.

The Five Tag

10 Years Ago I:

1. I was at Jacksonville State
2. I lived in my first apartment
3. Drove a white Dodge Dakota
4. was 20
5. Drank too much

5 Things on Today's "To-Do" List:

1. Get out of school for a long weekend!
2. Go to class
3. Kiss my wife
4. Watch the Dodgers in the NLCS
5. Go to bed

5 Snacks I Enjoy:

1. Peanuts
2. Reese’s peanut butter cups
3. Cereal
4. Chocolate
5. Chips & Dip



5 Things I would do If I were a millionaire:

1. Buy a nice log cabin in the mountains.
2. Buy a beach house
3. give money to church
4. Give to the million charities and organizations I support.
5. buy my wife something awesome

5 Places I have lived:

1. 30 Dewey Boozer Rd
2. ??? Francis St.
3. ??? South Lee St.
4. 1804 Martha Berry Blvd.
5. 1204 Desota Drive.

5 Jobs that I have had (or still have today in some cases):

1. Telemarketer
2. Bag boy
3. Youth pastor
4. News/sports reporter
5. Parapro

5 people I am tagging:
Jenn
Robby
Adam
Joel
Kevin and Lacy

Amazing Column on NPR's This I Believe.

Kim Phuc is best known as the girl in the famous photo of a Vietnam War napalm-bombing attack near Saigon. She now lives in Toronto with her husband and two children. Her organization, Kim Foundation International, aids children who are war victims. Photo courtesy of the Canadian Broadcasting Corp.




“Forgiveness made me free from hatred. I still have many scars on my body and severe pain most days but my heart is cleansed.”


On June 8, 1972, I ran out from Cao Dai temple in my village, Trang Bang, South Vietnam; I saw an airplane getting lower and then four bombs falling down. I saw fire everywhere around me. Then I saw the fire over my body, especially on my left arm. My clothes had been burned off by fire.

I was 9 years old but I still remember my thoughts at that moment: I would be ugly and people would treat me in a different way. My picture was taken in that moment on Road No. 1 from Saigon to Phnom Penh. After a soldier gave me some drink and poured water over my body, I lost my consciousness.

Several days after, I realized that I was in the hospital, where I spent 14 months and had 17 operations.

It was a very difficult time for me when I went home from the hospital. Our house was destroyed; we lost everything and we just survived day by day.

Although I suffered from pain, itching and headaches all the time, the long hospital stay made me dream to become a doctor. But my studies were cut short by the local government. They wanted me as a symbol of the state. I could not go to school anymore.

The anger inside me was like a hatred as high as a mountain. I hated my life. I hated all people who were normal because I was not normal. I really wanted to die many times.

I spent my daytime in the library to read a lot of religious books to find a purpose for my life. One of the books that I read was the Holy Bible.

In Christmas 1982, I accepted Jesus Christ as my personal savior. It was an amazing turning point in my life. God helped me to learn to forgive — the most difficult of all lessons. It didn't happen in a day and it wasn't easy. But I finally got it.

Forgiveness made me free from hatred. I still have many scars on my body and severe pain most days but my heart is cleansed.

Napalm is very powerful but faith, forgiveness and love are much more powerful. We would not have war at all if everyone could learn how to live with true love, hope and forgiveness.

If that little girl in the picture can do it, ask yourself: Can you?

This essay was produced by Anne Penman for the Canadian Broadcasting Corp. NPR's This I Believe is independently produced by Jay Allison and Dan Gediman with John Gregory and Viki Merrick.

Banned Books Week

This week is banned books week. There's an interesting story from NPR on banned books on my RSS feed to the right under NPR Books, entitled: 'Grapes Of Wrath' And The Politics of Book Burning'

Here is a list of banned/challenged books: http://title.forbiddenlibrary.com/

October is National Arts and Humanities Month

Guys,
I don't know about you, but I believe Americans are really beginning to forget the value of the arts. We don't have time for theatre, literature, dance, and the like, any more. We want big action packed movies, 30 minute tv dramas, and reality shows. But let us not forget that we have to keep the arts flourishing lest we become hardened drones. Do what you can to get your kids involved in the arts; promote the arts whenever possible. See a play and turn off the television and read, even if for only 30 minutes a day.



What is National Arts and Humanities Month?
"National Arts and Humanities Month (NAHM) is a coast-to-coast collective celebration of culture in America. Held every October and coordinated by Americans for the Arts, it has become the largest annual celebration of the arts and humanities in the nation. From arts center open houses to mayoral proclamations to banners and media coverage, communities across the United States join together to recognize the importance of arts and culture to citizen's daily lives," according to the Web site: http://www.americansforthearts.org/get_involved/advocacy/nahm/default.asp

By mom's request

Here is an essay I wrote that mom wanted to read.


The Road to Autumn
Erik Green
ENGL 410
Dr. North
9-15-08
Oh the leaves, are they not yet yellow? I see their green hues changing slightly like an aging apple. The wind, does it not yet carry a chill? I feel a tease, a taste, a whisper, like a first kiss, blowing through the window. No, summer has not yet cooled, and my muse-- the wondrous autumn-- isn't dancing in her marvelous red dress. Yes, the rays still beat madly upon my face, begging for my attention. I see that blasted ball of fire; I feel the waves of its furnace. It is like a child in need of its mother, a lover who has lost its mate. In October its will shall surely wane; it shall calm its violent eyes. But it’s September, and the burn is still real, the earth is still warm, and my muse still eludes me.
I remember an October morning and the last time I saw the muse. The sun, according to my watch, was sleeping late that day. Cars, like mine, awoke, and their lights illuminated creation like an amateur filmmaker with a cheap movie camera. In the Kangaroo Mart on the corner of “Some Road” and “Such-and-Such-Drive,” I watched a middle aged trucker with candy corn teeth and a mullet flirt with a young clerk with pretty eyes, brown hair, and broken dreams. Coffee pots burbled, and energy drinks were being peddled — two for three bucks. I took decaf. I drove on, past the stucco fast food joints and the feed-and-seed store, through one stoplight and then the next. I was ushered through town by the wind; its marvelous fingers maneuvered leaves of red and yellow across the ground like soldier crabs scurrying to the ocean. The sky was enchanting at daybreak, when clouds parted to reveal a black canvas being overtaken by splotches of orange and red. Outside, old men in fedoras and pressed suits walked with canes up sidewalks, while fit Presbyterian mothers in bicycle shorts and toboggans chatted on their cell phones and pushed their infants around the block. Manicured yards, like chain link fences, lead from one ranch house to another to another, and through dark windows televisions flickered the morning news. The old courthouse at the intersection was still pretty, though the inside was wrecked, which was analogous of the town.
I turned left, and there before me stood Fort Mountain, rising through the morning fog like the spire of a great castle. I passed the last hayfield where fescue grass and alfalfa were rolled into great bails. It reminded me of my childhood in Alabama and the peace that I’d found there in the little things: sweet tea, front porches. I thought of those hills covered in pines, red maples, and elm and the fog that rolled through the hollows in the morning. I missed that English style barn that was built long before I was born and the tin corn crib that ached and creaked under the stifling heat. I missed flinging a fishing rod over my shoulder and walking into the backwoods where bluegill and channel cats were as plentiful as biting flies. I missed the buzz of bicycle tires whirling underneath me on the aged blacktop, and the country store where everybody knew me when I walked in. I missed the smell of axle grease coming from underneath that old red Farmall tractor, and I missed dad as well. He died before I could spend another autumn with him, but we spent many together on that farm, cutting logs, mending fences, and raking the endless piles of browning leaves. How I missed that man.
Ahead I drove, and the car climbed and winded its way higher and higher along a road with dandelion yellow road signs that warned of sharp curves and perilous ravines. Seldom did I meet another car, and time marched slowly at thirty five miles per hour. I pulled off on a widened shoulder, got out and walked to the face of the bluff. Down below, the town’s buildings looked like Monopoly pieces scattered on a vast, green, living room floor. The sun stood like the head of a sunflower, a dull red in the gray sky. Below my feet, the tops of oak trees seemed to have no idea that something could be looking down upon them; they didn’t seem curious at all. I kicked a stone down the side of the cliff, but it did not rouse them. I drove on, and came to East Ellijay and then Ellijay, and I laughed at how a town so small could be divided into named parts. It took me a moment to find the orchard road, but I came to it and headed east. I saw the orchard on the right and stopped in. The cider press was pumping, and pretty girls were packing apples into baskets, and families were filling bags with Rome Beauty, Pink Lady, Golden and Red Delicious, and Granny Smith apples. Out back, acres of apple trees stood like soldiers in orderly rows, and people picked as many apples as they could carry. I bought a pint of apple butter, a quart of sorghum and then drove on, down the long, blacktop road to the pumpkin farm. As I went, I imagined that Charlie Brown and Linus lived there, and I could almost hear them talking about the Great Pumpkin. They would have liked it there, because it seemed like their kind of place.
The pumpkin farm was a scientific marvel, at least in my mind. There were pumpkins so big that they could devour a small child if they had the inclination and the jowls to do so, but those hadn’t been carved into them yet. People used wheelbarrows to haul them out, and they strained and grunted all the way. I was able to find the perfect one for the porch and one or two others that were suitable for pumpkin pie. Nearby there was a barn full of Indian corn — the kind with purple and red kernels — and children marveled at how corn on the cob could change color. Yes, autumn lived there, and I was thrilled to see her.
As I drove on, I thought about how the year had passed so swiftly, and I realized that winter would soon be upon us again. Though I had my muse in my arms, I already missed her. She never stayed long enough to ease my soul, and all I did in winter, and spring, and summer was mourn for her. I drove until I found a walking trail and a lone tree, and I sat with her for a long time. The beauty of the trees was spellbinding. It was like they all had gone to town and bought the best and brightest coats. They stood, dignified, like a tenor making his final bow, tears rolling down his eyes. Soon their leaves would fall, and they would stand naked and revealed, and they would look old and poor. Everything felt alive to me in that moment, when the breeze was strong and the tall grass blew on a facing meadow. There is some mysticism to the autumn; it is like tales of wizards and Camelot, or satellite images of deep space — a mystery. I lay back and rested my head on my hands and watched the blue, crystalline, afternoon sky as red and purple leaves blew around in circles, then landed gently on the lawn. Oak trees had orange leaves; maple leaves were red, yellow, and orange, and dogwood leaves were red-brown. I drove away from that place where autumn lived, but she came with me, and she spread throughout my town.
That evening my wife brought me coffee, and we sat on our front porch and looked at the sky as the sun began to set. We watched as mountains pulled blankets of cloud over themselves for the night, and I wondered if children mistook the blinking lights of airplanes for stars. On those cool evenings when the mosquitoes were long gone, and the sun was in bed early, I was most happy; I could see God. Inside, a football game was on, and the smell of cider permeated the air. Children somewhere were imagining stories about black cats and jack-o’-lanterns, and the wind was stirring the trees in a hundred backyards. It was the muse; it was autumn, rousing them all, as she danced and darted through her earthly playground. Truly she was a magical and mystical creative spirit, a gift of God.

Copyright © Erik Green 2008

The bad bad day

I saw this cloud while I was standing outside today doing the crossing guard job. It should have served as a warning, because this has been the worst day of my working life at MCHS. I hope to still be employed at the end of the day. Just pray for me.

Everything worked out, so thanks for praying...

See You at the Pole

Praise the Lord, we had a great turn out this morning for See You at the Pole at Murray County High. There were probably 30 kids, and some staff, out there. Around 7:00 a.m. I was beginning to get worried that maybe I would be the only one standing out there, but by 7:20 there was a nice turnout. And the good part was that many of the other kids in the school had to walk past us to go in the door. Hopefully they were able to see God in the faithfulness of the students and staff. The students led prayer and sang a couple of songs, and one girl read several passages from the Bible. It was nice. Just when I was beginning to think that most kids were completely blind and deaf to the Gospel, these kids made me see otherwise. Monitoring In-School Suspension can make you bitter towards kids, but it was great to see that there are still so many kids with good hearts and a desire to do right and please God. Thank God for their parents. Love you guys!
Erik

PS...Pray for me guys, because this year of ISS has been awful. I am finding it very hard to show the love of Christ while being a firm, and often times very firm, teacher.

prayer

Guys,
Be praying for me today. It would have been my dad's 73rd birthday today, so I am a little down. Also, Angie and I are going to the doc on Thursday for routine check ups, but we HATE going to the doctor. Pray for us that God will give us strength to face whatever the doc has to tell us. Love ya'll.
Erik

4DL

Here's a look at the guys opening for Casting Crowns in Dalton, Four Days Late! I feel like a proud papa haha.

SETNTD #31

Don't forget to be praying for all the team members and candidates preparing for Tres Dias No. 31!!

I've now seen it all

Well my first day back to school has been fairly uneventful thus far, but I do have one story which made me laugh. You all will remember the days when you put your boyfriend/girlfriend's picture behind a clear plastic sheath on the cover of your notebook. Well, one girl in my class today has a picture of her boyfriend all right...his MUG SHOT!!!!! Yes, she looks fondly into the eyes of her dear sweet felon all day. Ay yay yay!

In other news, God is really awesome! Of course, you knew that. He is just filling us up with strength day to day, and holding us close to Him. Angie and I are really having to turn to Him, and that is what He wants. We are praying that He will show us His plan daily.

My new personal email is thewayisjesus@gmail.com Our family email is greenfamily08@windstream.net

casting crowns concert

I was going to spread the word that my best buddies are in a band called 4 Days Late and they are opening for Casting Crowns when they come to Dalton on Sept. 20. Check them out at fourdayslatemusic.com

Here's a couple pics of dad

thanks

On behalf of our family, I would like to thank everyone who has shown honor to my (our) dear father during this time. Dad was one of those people who loved everyone for who they were, and never had a negative word to say about anyone. He was a Christian first and foremost. He was a loyal husband, a kind and gentle father, and a doting grandfather. He was a hard worker, a true lover of his fellow man, and selfless above all things. As I look back on my time with him, I will always remember his smile, and his big catcher's mitt hands, but most of all his genuine humility. He was a true gem, a vessel of God's love, and we will dearly miss him.
Erik

Arrangements for dad

The arrangements for my dad are as follows: visitation will be Thursday from 6-9 p.m. at First Baptist Williams (Jacksonville, AL); the funeral is Friday at 11 a.m. at FBC Williams. For you mapquesters, FBC Williams is located at 5579 Nesbit Lake Road, Jacksonville, AL 36265.

Thank you all so much for your prayers and thoughts. Dad was 72, three weeks from his 73rd birthday. Angie and I were blessed to spend this past weekend with him and mom, so God is so awesome for allowing us that chance to see him one last time. Dad was a fine Christian, so we have NO DOUBT that he is with Jesus now. If I was a betting man, I would say he and my uncle Happy are investigating a fishing hole or two up there. I know he was so happy to see Happy again. Mom is doing OK right now; she is having to keep her chin up during all the commotion. She broke down some last night, but she was just singing a hymn a few minutes ago. She is a fine Christian as well. Dad had been complaining of dizziness over the weekend and so when Angie and I left, my sister took him and mom to the doctor. The doc checked him out thoroughly and sent him home. They'd arranged heart exams, etc. The next morning he was feeling worse, so they called the ambulance to come and get him and he had a heart attack about two miles into the trip to the hospital. The paramedics tried to revive him for an hour and a half, before he finally died. I have two older sisters, two nieces and a nephew, so please continue praying for strength. We love you guys.
Erik

The paradox of the high school senior

By Erik Green

So turning 18 means you're grown, right? Yes, of course. You can drive. You can vote. You can join the military. You can get married. It is even legal to do married type things before marriage. You can watch R-rated movies. The vast world of adulthood lies before you like an unexplored island paradise.
Unfortunately, your senior year of high school keeps you in the bosom of childhood a little longer, and it *&^%$# stinks! In school you cannot sleep (no matter how hungover you are). You cannot chew gum or tobacco. You can't kiss your girlfriend/boyfriend, even though you will likely marry them (har, har, har). You can't speak freely (No, your teacher is not dude). You can't talk on the phone (OMG wtc?). You can't dress as scantily clad as you might wish. Your days are meticulously scheduled to the minute, and your mom even makes you ride the bus now and then.
The worst part is you can't do anything about it, unless you plan on quitting, and then there goes 12-plus years of lectures, experiments, and kick ball games. But it happens. According to an ABC News story (http://abcnews.go.com/US/story?id=2667532), some 2,500 students drop out of school every day! Obviously not all of those students are seniors, but I suspect there is an alarming number of seniors who simply quit months before they are scheduled to graduate. Why? Because they are adults, of course.
I am convinced that seniors drop out because they have been convinced that turning 18makes them an adult, when it is simply untrue, and they feel that school is no longer relevant. It's kid stuff. Seniors seem to be more combative with teachers, more resistant to school rules, and more reluctant to comply academically than other students because they simply believe that they are grown, and that such a title awards them some sort of immunity. I had a senior come to In-School Suspension because he'd been accused, perhaps wrongly, of vandalism. He said that instead of taking his punishment he was going to quit school. It smelled like pride to me, and I told him so. His mindset was, "I am an adult, and they cannot treat me this way." Sure they can, especially if you plan on graduating. The same is true in the working world. I can tell my boss where to stick it, but not if I want to eat and pay the bills.
In my opinion, seniors become discouraged with their circumstances because they have yet to acquire the valuable resource known as foresight. At present, what is important to a typical senior is Billy's party, or Tommy's Mustang, or Susy's... characteristics. It isn't "I need to put something away for retirement," or "When I get to college I am going to be clueless, so I'd better study."
I understand because I've been there. I rolled my eyes when my parents talked about responsibility, hard work, and goals. My goal was to chase girls, a task at which I was utterly pathetic. As a senior, I was driving a free car, on free gas, and complaining about it. I was the guy arguing about the drinking age with my economics teacher. I could die for my country, but I couldn't have a beer. Please, I wasn't about to die for my country, but it was the principle of the matter. I was an adult; I could do as I pleased. It took 12 years to make up for doing as I pleased as an 18-year-old child.

Primal Scream

I just need to scream AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I had a bad day at school, so......................................AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH....ok getting there.....AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...ok all better. Thanks! :)
Erik

PS...If you are ever bored and have some time to kill, check out this site: http://www.faceresearch.org/demos/average

Update on Fischer

Here is an update from my friend Bryan on baby Fischer.

Fischer Michael Young
Born 8-21-08 10:18am/est 6lbs 10oz 19 1/2"
Floyd Medical Center Rome,GA

Fischer is doing great. He was moved to the NICU Friday at lunch because he was not eating good and his sugar was dangerously low. Since then his sugar is stable with help from an IV and is eating great. He will be able to leave when his eating has gotten a little better and has the is IV removed. Erin is doing great and will be able to go home Sunday or Monday. We will have to leave Fischer at the hospital until he is a little stronger. Please continue to pray for us.
Bryan

Hurray for Fischer Michael

Many of you have heard that my friend Bryan and his wife Erin were expecting a baby, but have had complications due to her type one diabetes.
Well, Fischer Michael Young was born today at 10:18 a.m., weighing 6 pounds and 10 ounces, and he was 19.5 inches long. Praise the Lord! Everyone is healthy!

R.I.P LeRoi Moore

Many of us have been inspired over the years by the music of the Dave Matthews Band; I know I have. On Tuesday, the DMB's saxophone player LeRoi Moore died of complications from injuries he suffered in a recent ATV accident. He was 46. LeRoi never basked in the spotlight, but make no mistake, he was fabulously talented. He was also the coolest cat on the block. I am terribly saddened by the death of this masterful musician. It pains me to no end that murderers, thugs, rapists, and other scum continue to live on, while a true gem like LeRoi is taken so young. Please pray for LeRoi's family.

On the DMB's Web site, the band left a statement:
"We are deeply saddened that LeRoi Moore, saxophonist and founding member of Dave Matthews Band, died unexpectedly Tuesday afternoon, August 19, 2008, at Hollywood Presbyterian Medical Center in Los Angeles from sudden complications stemming from his June ATV accident on his farm near Charlottesville, Virginia. LeRoi had recently returned to his Los Angeles home to begin an intensive physical rehabilitation program."

--
I also heard today that the younger of my two nieces, Michelle, who is 16, totalled her car at some point last week/weekend. She is fine, but as you can imagine it has been a wild series of events for my sister, brother-in-law, and the rest of the family. Continue to pray for strength for them all.

--


Keep up the prayers folks!

--Erik

The word nerd's ultimate wardrobe

Here are some t-shirts, and other designs, that just crack me up! (never end a sentence with a preposition).

The Great Coke Can Debacle.

So after much pressure to continue, I now humbly submit a blog. Yaay!

As many of you know, Angie and I moved into a new house at the end of May. We have really enjoyed it, and it has been everything we wanted. Well, except the upstairs toilet. Mind you, this is a brand new house. We have, um...left our mark where no man has marked before. Now, one particular Sunday afternoon I was typing away on our computer upstairs and decided to make a routine bathroom visit. When I flushed, however, the result was anything but routine. The toilet stopped up, and began to overflow. The water--and it is a stretch to call it water--began to go under the wall and run down our kitchen wall downstairs. I knew this was happening because Angie was screaming something in French. So, I went and bought a plunger, and nearly had a heart attack as I attacked the John. In fact, I plunged so hard that the--uh toilet history, if you will--began to flow into our shower. This, my friends, was as close to hell as I ever want to get. So, clearly, I was not going to fix the toilet myself. Luckily, a plumber was open and someone came out and fixed it so that it would at least flush. I then cleaned up the considerably grotesque mess and we called the guy who built our house and told him about it. He decided he wanted to send out his own plumber to check it out. So, a week or so later, three guys show up and go to work. After an hour or so, one of the men came in the house and said,
"I know what your problem is."
I'm thinking, "Yeah really? I believe my problem is that I had to clean up crap!"
But he said, "There is a coke can in your pipe."
Apparently, during construction, some genius threw his Dr. Pepper can into the pipes. The plumber brought the discarded can in on a stick and showed it to me. Needless to say, our builder agreed to reimburse us for our considerable plumber bill. Unfortunately, neither money nor Ajax could scrub the memory of that blasted day out of my mind. Bluuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

--
In other news, Angie and I are both very busy this semester, as usual. She is working on her masters, getting a gifted endorsement, and taking a mentoring class. I have two classes, the first of which begins tomorrow and involves the reading of 11 books. I am making strides, I guess. Also, I have been invited to be a Palanca Cha at Tres Dias in November, so I am stoked about that! Hope everyone has a nice week!
Erik

Guess who's back!?!?!?!

OK, so after a tremendously long hiatus we are back! It has been a quick and busy summer for us thus far. We moved into our new house in Chatsworth on May 30 and had to wait several weeks for cable, phone and Internet to be turned on. In the mean time we have both started college. I am enrolled in four summer classes at UTC and Angie started her master's degree with one online class. We are busy! Spanish is kicking my tail. Angie insists I should be able to easily pick up on the language of my "Motherland," but I already speak fluent Alabama Redneck, so...
We spent some time with my family earlier this month in Atlanta, checking out the Braves, World of Coke and the Georgia Aquarium. We are not taking any extended trips this year due to school. Next weekend I head to Tres Dias and Angie follows the next weekend. We are both looking forward to that. Mostly this summer we have worked in the yard and around the house. It's crazy for both of us to be students again, but in the end it will be well worth it. We also got a cat, Crimson. I guess this a good start to our blogging efforts. Check out some pics from our summer.

Ps..the couch in the picture of us on a couch was from American Idol.

Quick update

Hey gang,
Angie and I are in our new house, but we're without cable, internet, etc., until June 19 so it will be difficult to post. We are having a great summer and we hope you are too!

From the sublime to the ridiculous: bombs that kill YOU but not nature.

Charles Q. Choi
Special to LiveScience
LiveScience.com
2 hours, 49 minutes ago



New explosives could be more powerful and safer to handle than TNT and other conventional explosives and would also be more environmentally friendly.

TNT, RDX and other explosives commonly used in military and industrial applications often generate toxic gases upon detonation that pollute the environment. Moreover, the explosives themselves are toxic and can find their way into the environment due to incomplete detonation and as unexploded ordnance. They are also extremely dangerous to handle, as they are highly sensitive to physical shock, such as hard impacts and electric sparks.


To make safer, more environmentally friendly explosives, scientists in Germany turned to a recently explored class of materials called tetrazoles. These derive most of their explosive energy from nitrogen instead of carbon as TNT and others do.


Tiny bombs were made from two promising tetrazoles with the alphabet-soup names of HBT and G2ZT. These materials proved less apt to explode accidentally than conventional explosives.


After the bombs were detonated in the laboratory, G2ZT also proved as powerful than TNT, and HBT more powerful than TNT and comparable to RDX, said researcher Thomas Klapötke, a chemist at the University of Munich in Germany.


In initial experiments, G2ZT and HBT produced fewer toxic byproducts than common explosives. Still, they did generate some dangerous hydrogen cyanide gas. But mixing these compounds with oxidizers not only avoids making hydrogen cyanide, but also improved performance, Klapötke said.


These compounds have great potential, "especially for large caliber naval and tank guns," Klapötke added.


Klapötke and his colleague Carles Miró Sabate are scheduled to detail their findings in the June 24 issue of the journal Chemistry of Materials.


The research was financially supported by the Ludwig-Maximilian University of Munich, the Fonds der Chemischen Industrie, the European Research Office of the U.S. Army Research Laboratory, the U.S. Army's Armament Research, Development and Engineering Center, and the Bundeswehr Research Institute for Materials, Explosives, Fuels and Lubricants.

Latest comings and goings

The blog-well has been a bit dry as of late. Busy. Uninspired. Lazy. So today I thought I would write about what's been going on with us.

The most important thing right now is our new house! Angie and I are lease purchasing a house in Murray County very close to where we work. This has been our goal for some time and finally we are making it happen. It's a three bedroom, two bath deal. It is in a subdivision we had been hoping to move in to so we're excited. We move in in late June.

Here it is:




Other than that I don't know if I mentioned that Angie was beginning her masters in June. Go Angie! If we can get through a few more days of school we should have a nice summer ahead of us. I will get back into school (UTC) in late June. We plan on heading to Jekyll Island with some friends in mid-June after my family gets together for a weekend of aquarium, Braves, etc. in Atlanta.

For our church friends, we have not stopped coming. We've missed four out of five Sundays due to one thing or another. We will be back Sunday. And no, the move to Murray County does not mean we will stop going to church at EMC.

Have a great weekend yall!

Un-Reconstructed

Hey some friends of mine play in a band called Unreconstructed, a Civil War period band that is up for an Emmy!!! Yes, an Academy Award! Chris and Heather Dempsey are my friends in the band. Check them out:

http://www.pointsouth.com/unreconstructed/

songs about men and women

Here’s some funny songs about how men and women differ


Brad Paisley-I’m Still a Guy

When you see a deer you see Bambi
And I see antlers up on the wall
When you see a lake you think picnics
And I see a large mouth up under that log
You're probably thinking that you're going to change me
In some ways well maybe you might
Scrub me down, dress me up oh but no matter what
remember I'm still a guy

When you see a priceless French painting
I see a drunk, naked girl
You think that riding a wild bull sounds crazy
And I'd like to give it a whirl
Well love makes a man do some things he ain't proud of
And in a weak moment I might walk your sissy dog, hold your purse at the mall
But remember, I'm still a guy

I'll pour out my heart
Hold your hand in the car
Write a love song that makes you cry
Then turn right around knock some jerk to the ground
'Cause he copped a feel as you walked by

I can hear you now talking to your friends
Saying, "Yeah girls he's come a long way"
From dragging his knuckles and carrying a club
And building a fire in a cave
But when you say a backrub means only a backrub
Then you swat my hand when I try
Well, now what can I say at the end of the day
Honey, I'm still a guy

And I'll pour out my heart
Hold your hand in the car
Write a love song that makes you cry
Then turn right around knock some jerk to the ground
'Cause he copped a feel as you walked by

These days there's dudes getting facials
Manicured, waxed and botoxed
With deep spray-on tans and creamy lotiony hands
You can't grip a tacklebox

Yeah with all of these men lining up to get neutered
It's hip now to be feminized
I don't highlight my hair
I've still got a pair
Yeah honey, I'm still a guy

Oh my eyebrows ain't plucked
There's a gun in my truck
Oh thank God, I'm still a guy



Kellie Picker-Things That Never Cross a Man’s Mind


I need to go shopping
These shoes are all wrong
Just look in my closet
Not a thing to put on
I wonder how these jeans make me look from behind
Things that never cross a man's mind

Lets turn off the tv
Now can't we just talk
Lets lay here and cuddle
Til we both drift off
If we don't make love
That'll be just fine
Things that never cross a man's mind

That joke is too dirty
This steak is too thick
Ain't no way in the world I'll ever finish it
That car is too fast
This beer is too cold
And watchin all this football is sure getting old
Wish I was workin this weekend
Not on the lake reelin my line
Things that never cross a man's mind

Here lips are too red
Her skirt is too tight
Her legs are too long
And her heels are too high
Boy, she looks like the marryin kind
Things that never cross a man's mind

That joke is too dirty
This steak is too thick
Ain't no way in the world I'll ever finish it
That car is too fast
This beer is too cold
And watchin all this football is sure getting old
Wish I was workin this weekend
Not on the lake reelin my line
Things that never cross a man's mind

I feel a little bloated
I think I'm fixin to starve
That movie was good except for the violent parts
Brad Pitt is sexy
Why did he change his hair
I knew him and Jenny never had a prayer
These curtains clash with the carpet
The color scheme is a crime
Things that never cross a man's mind
Things that never cross a man's mind

Birthday girl!

Today is Angie's birthday! She turns 28 today. Happy Birthday sweet heart! I love you!

John Smoltz and the snapping turtle: the story of our spring break

Don't you just love the catchy headline?

Oh well, we are regretfully on the other side of Spring Break, but we had a great time being off. We spent the preceding weekend in Alabama at my parents house and we had a great time. I made a point to spend as much time with my dad as I could this go-round. We went fishing and caught a bunch of bream and one ol' snapping turtle. He was caught by yours truly. It felt like a fish for a while when I first hooked it, but as I reeled it in I thought I'd just snagged a limb because of the dead weight. But when I got "it" to the bank I realized "it" was a snapping turtle. Luckily he worked himself free before I had to get the knife out and cut him loose, thus saving my line and perhaps my finger. We didn't have any moving conversations-- dad and I that is--but it was nice just looking over and knowing he was there.

During the week Angie and I worked on beautifying our yard. We planted flowers, raked and mowed and had fun being outdoors all week. On Friday Wade, Angie's sister Cristy and I worked all afternoon moving probably a ton of mulch. Amazingly, at age 30, I finally like yard work. I can just hear my mom cussing me now haha.

On Saturday we saw our Dodgers lose to those pesky Braves (yes Joel, I know). We had a great time though. My niece Ashley and her boyfriend Casey met us in Atlanta for the game. She is such an adult now at 19. Amazing. We will post some pics soon. Before the game there was a line of people waiting to get an autograph from Braves pitcher John Smoltz. Being a Dodger fan I didn't wet myself to get over there to him. But this guy approached Angie and me and asked told us he'd give us an autographed ball if we stood in line with him (a person could have have two things signed), so we did and Smoltz signed a ball for us. Very cool. Anyway, that was our week in a nutshell. This weekend Angie heads with the ladies to Gatlinburg and I'll head to a shady spot and snooze. Have a good one.

--Erik

Reflections: Old Blue Chair by Kenny Chesney

I love this song because it sort of relates to my way of thinking. Maybe you can relate (plus you gals can see Kenny's bod ;) )


There's a blue rockin' chair,
sittin' in the sand.
Weathered by the storms,
and well oiled hands.
It sways back and forth,
with the help of the winds.
Seems to always be there,
like an ol' trusted friend.

I've read a lot of books, wrote a few songs.
Looked at my life, where it's goin', where it's gone.
I've seen the world, through a bus windshield.
But nothing compares,
to the way that I see it,
to the way that I see it,
to the way that I see it,
when I sit in that Old Blue Chair.

From that chair I've caught
a few fish and some rays,
and I've watched boats sail,
in and out of Cinnamon Bay.
I let go of a lover,
that took a piece of my heart.
Prayed many times for forgiveness,
and a brand new start.

I've read a lot of books, wrote a few songs.
Looked at my life, where it's goin', where it's gone.
I've seen the world, through a bus windshield.
But nothing compares,
to the way that I see it,
to the way that I see it,
to the way that I see it,
when I sit in that Old Blue Chair.

That chair was my bed one New Year's night,
when I passed out from too much Malibu and diet,
and I woke up to a hundred mosquito bites. I swear.
Got 'em all sittin' right there, in the Old Blue Chair.

There's a blue rockin' chair,
sittin' in the sand.
Weathered by the storms,
and well oiled hands.

Laid up here in a country state of mind (with pics from home)

Ronnie Jones preached a sermon based on a Hank Williams song not long ago, so I figured it was OK for me to write an ode to a Hank Jr. song. So here it goes:


"That hot ol' summer sun make you beg for your next breath,
So you best be on the creek bank laid in the shade.
Chewin' on a hickory twig, pass that bottle, I'll have me a swig,
I ain't got a lot, but I think I got it made (in the shade)."


Many people talk about not having regrets in life and I have very few, really. Everything I’ve done, every mistake I have made, has led me here, which is where I want to be. I am married to my soul mate. I am pursuing a career that I believe God would have me do. But some days I miss my country home in Alabama. I miss that quiet peace that comes with sweet tea and front porches. I miss those pine covered hills and the fog that rolls through the hollows in the morning. I miss that old wooden barn that was built long before I was born and the smell of freshly cut hay. I miss flinging a fishing rod over my shoulder and walking into the backwoods for a shot at some bream. I miss the country store where everybody knows you when you walk in. I miss those Alabama and, yes, Auburn car tags. I miss being a part of what that rivalry means in that state. I miss the buzz of bicycle tires whirling under me as I peddledown back roads of aged blacktop. I miss the smell of axle grease coming from underneath that old red Farmall. Mostly, though, I regret that I didn’t learn more than I did from my father. He is a man’s man. He can fix anything, grow anything, build anything. You know the type. I regret not getting up early and going fishing with him as much as I should have. I regret not being under his wing every day in those vast fields. I regret having smooth palms when his were so calloused. I regret never going dove hunting with him or paying attention to him when he taught lessons about life that I had to learn the hard way. I will never regret being my momma’s baby, but I will always regret never being my dad’s little man. I can’t make up for lost time with him now, but I am trying more than ever to savor those moments we have left. I look forward to Friday when I can see that place again.


"Me, I'm laid up here in a country state of mind,
Catchin' these fish like they're goin' out of style,
And drinkin' this homemade wine.
Hey, if the sun don't shine tomorrow,
People I've had a good time,
I’m just laid up here in at country state of mind."

--Erik

Green's Game Notes: Volume IV

So if you were driving from Dalton towards Murray County around 6:25 this morning you probably saw my lovely wife doing a dance in the Regions Bank parking lot. Yes, and maybe you heard her shouting too. She was not filled with the Holy Ghost, but rather giant mosquitoes. So here's how it went down: we pulled into Regions to get some money and there were maybe five of those huge mosquitoes sitting on the machine. When Angie went to put the card in, BuzZZZ WHACK BAM CRASH, those things flew onto her like planes to a hanger. She started saying "They're on me. They're on me." Then she began to panic and whack the air like mad. Then she yelled "They're on me! They're on me! I've got to get out!" So yes, she got out and performed her own rendition of Flash Dance. "She's a maniac, maaaniac on the floor..." As for me? I just enjoyed the show... No mosquitoes were hurt...

I don't know if I have mentioned it before in the Blog, but I believe God has put a burden on my heart to become a guidance counselor. I believe I can relate to kids in that fashion. I have done the stupid, trouble making stuff. I have experienced unrequited love (Who hasn't haha). I have gone through the "My parents are morons" phase. I have had drug addicted friends. I mean, I feel like I understand teens. So I suppose I am going to get my masters and Eds. in counseling. That's a couple years away, so things might change...

Mercifully Angie's CRCT testing is complete and she can return to normal, Amen!...

Spring Break begins Friday! AND I only have a couple more class meetings left in the semester. Two classes, two A's right now! Go me...

So last night in my education class we discussed discipline in the classroom and basically my professor made it seem as though only bad teachers have to discipline kids. When asked what should be done for discipline in the classroom, he said "Teach better." Of course, he is about 80 years old. What sort of discipline do you feel is correct? Paddling? Removal from class? Writing sentences, etc. I'd like to hear your thoughts...

Prayer requests (update)

Folks, one of my best friends Bryan Young had gastric bypass Monday morning and is doing just fine. Thanks for all the prayers.

Please continue to pray for Angie today, the final day of the CRCT wooo hoo!

--Erik

Game Notes: Volume III

So who's coming to game night tonight? We have debated going because Angie is not much of a game person, but I am, so we're at a stand still. If someone is going and is not much of a gamer then Angie might have some company...

Speaking of Angie...she has had a great week of testing this week and the Lord really helped her stay calm and perform her job. She is also going to be her grade rep next year! Please pray for her next week as tests resume.

It has been a crazy week for me as well...my ISS class has been full most every day and that forces my blood pressure up a few notches, but luckily it is Friday. Next week is our last week before Spring Break, whee! On top of that I only have about four more Mondays and Tuesdays left in the college semester, which is nice. I will take most of June off before heading back in the summer. Gotta get finished!

Hope you all have a great one!

--Erik

Roll Tide, so sayeth the Lord.

A crossing guard's view from the sidewalk

Sometimes in life all we see is the road that lies ahead and behind...





But if we look up, God will show us his glory...



Pics taken with cellphone, sorry. Have a good one!