My blogger history.

I was reading a blog today, and they were "celebrating" their one year anniversary of blogging. Silly me, forgot to get them a card, which I'm sure Hallmark has covered. When is national blogging day? They mentioned that they had 96 blogs for 2008, which got me to awondering, how many have I written and when exactly did I start. My first blog was not only controversial, but long winded and filled with hearsay. Here it is:

I've never bogged before, so here we go. I usually write a monthly letter that I send to family, basically an update on what I'm doing and what ever is on my mind. I'll try this instead and see if anyone else reads this and gets a laugh. That is always my goal. I'm no comedian, far from it, but I usually have things happen to me that seem to make my family and friends laugh. A little about what I like to write about:
My family
Christian Music
What I'm reading
What I'm watching on TV
My mission trips
And anything else that I think someone might find interesting or funny.Well, that's it for now, just wanted to break the seal.

WOW! That was intense. I see that I have kept to the original reason for writing and cover most of these, regularly. This was from July 21, 2007 and not much has changed in what I write about and my actual writing ability. My spelling isn't bad, because Blogger has spell checker, but my grammar and run on sentences are as bad as ever. I looked a little deeper and see that I wrote 48 entries in 2007, 120 entries in 2008 and so far in 2009, 29 entries. The most I have ever written in a month was 19 in May of 2008. I went back through the month to see what had caused me to write so much in one month. Turns out, I was in a "making fun of people who can't park" stage and spent most of that month ranting about that and people who litter. I'd love to say that as I aged, a whole 9 months later, that those things don't bother me anymore, but I'd be lying. The parking thing bothers me in places were parking is scarce, but the litter thing pisses me off all of the time. I hope you have enjoyed reading this as much as I have in writing it. My high school literature teacher would be so happy to see me writing something that I wasn't made to write. I don't really have a creative mind, so I had a hard time making stuff up, but when funny stuff happens to you anyway, it's much easier to write.

Fun thing to do, if it's raining and cable is out.

I love people. I love to talk to them and share my experiences and for them to share theirs with me.(Usually I go on and on about my missions, which might explain why no one wants to talk to me:) My biggest problem is, finding the time to actually have a conversation without being interrupted every 5 seconds by the kids, the phone or some other distraction. My love of people and how they interact with each other, makes Survivor and Amazing Race two of my favorite shows. I know there are a million more shows like these, but I don't have a ton of time to watch TV and since these were the first ones I really got into, I've always stuck with them. I watched some of the early ones, like Temptation Island, and though I found it interesting how people reacted to situations they were put in, the overall goal of some of those shows were mean or against what I personally believe, so I eventually quit watching them. For example, if you remember Temptation Island, the goal of the show was to try and get couples to cheat on one another. They can tell you that it is to test their commitment, which in a way that is true, but I guarantee you that in the pitch meeting, they were trying to come up with ways that would make it more than probable that someone would cheat. Since I love to learn about people, I've figured out how to learn about people I don't and will never know, but still get a taste of what is out there in the world. If you look at the top of this blog, you will see a button that says "Next Blog." If you hit that, it will randomly take you to a new blog in the gmail blogger family. This may seem way to random to you, or even a waste of time, which I will grant you, but you will learn things you didn't know. I found a recipe for making 45 to 50 orders of Idaho Truffle fries, not sure it will ever come in handy, but still. I found out that you can do a gmail blogger in a shit load of different languages. If you ever do this exercise, you will see that every other blog, you can't read. So why would I do it if so many are foreign? Well, pictures, that's why. You will find pictures from all over the world, some of them are actually pretty good. I'm not suggesting you call in sick to work tomorrow, but if you get bored, click it a few times and see what you see.

Seriously, golf?

Now don't be shocked, but I received this email yesterday:

Congratulations on making a hole-in-one on The Principal Charity Classic Putt-Putt Challenge hole during the Iowa Energy game February 23rd! This letter is to explain the Putt-Putt Challenge promotion.

Since you made a hole - in - one you will receive a Good Any Day Ticket to the Classic – we will mail this ticket out 2-3 weeks prior to the tournament.

The Putt-Putt Challenge promotion includes a chance to compete for a trip to the 2010 Masters. On May 15th, we will draw one name from the list of Hole-In -One winners from each Putt-Putt Challenge location. This person will be invited to The Principal Charity Classic on Sunday, May 31st where we will draw another name from the crowd. A long putt will be staged and participants will each take one putt. The putt that either goes in the hole or gets the closest to the pin will win a trip for two to the 2010 Masters. The trip includes roundtrip airfare for two, a one night hotel stay, and two tickets to the final day of play, Sunday, April 12, 2010.

For more information please see our website http://www.principalcharityclassic.com/pcc-promotion.php or if you have any questions please contact us.

Thank you and Congratulations on your Hole-in-One!

If you know me, your laughing and saying, "A hole in one what?" cause I don't golf, in fact, suck so bad at golf I've nearly knocked myself out on several occasions by hitting the ball into a tree or post and having it come right back at my head. Both of my brothers can attest to that, seeing as how we were golfing in TN once and I hit the ball into a tree and it came right back at my melon, causing me to hit the deck, causing my brothers to laugh at me for nearly an hour. (I'm guessing when they are having bad days on the course, they still think of this to bring themselves back to the reality that things could be worse, they could golf like me) Getting back to my hole in one, I'd like to be clear, so there is no misconception that this was a 40 foot putt or even a 20 foot put. No, I'm guessing it was a 10 foot putt in a miniature golf kind of setting that I reluctantly shot with my brothers family at the Iowa Energy game the other night, same night I was verbally abused by Grandpa usher. I wasn't going to do the putt, because I figured I would humiliate myself in front of strangers. I wasn't worried at humiliating myself in front of family, that is just to be expected, my brother had seen my golf and I disc golf with him all of the time, so he's seen me hit a great shot from way out, miss a putt from close up and toss my disc off a cliff, never to be seen again. I hit the ball and I'll be damned if that thing didn't go straight in the hole. If I could hit like that normally, maybe I would try to play again. Once you hit the shot, you filled out a card and the letter above tells the rest. With my luck, I will make it all the way to the putt in front of all those people at the Principal Classic, and my dumb ass will go out there and plunk some handicapped kid in the stands and I will be beaten with putters by the rest of the participants. I'll let you know if I advance in the tournament.

Why Go?

Here is something I pulled off my friend Joe's blog. I'm working on him to come to South Africa with Chad and I, I think he is getting close to joining us.

News Article: Forgotten Children (by Becki Rippey with stories from Michell Ricker)
Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." Matthew 19:14

If you come to South Africa and work with us, you will never forget the children you encounter. One of our past trip participants shared her experience with us: I will never forget the children’s faces.

Faces like 16 year old Almon from the Mpumalanga providence. His shoulders were drooped with weariness when he sat down in front of me. His school uniform had holes worn through it and his frame was too thin. He had never known his father and his mother had died of AIDS the previous year. He was trying to hold the family together living in the family’s old shack. He had two younger brothers, ages 12 and 7, and a sister age 10. He was going to school during the day and working for an uncle in the evenings, cutting and delivering firewood, to try and make ends meet. His prayer requests were for food, a school uniform for his brother and that he could hold the family together.

Faces like thin beautiful Joyce, a 15 year old orphan. Her parents both died of AIDS and she lives with an aunt and uncle. Through her tears, as I asked her about her usual day, she said, “No one loves me and I don’t know why.” She told of her aunt and uncle putting the food on the table for supper each night for them and their 5 children. Everyone comes to the table except her. She is made to sit and watch from the living room. If there is food left over after all the family leaves the table, she can eat. Many nights there is nothing left. Her prayer request was for food and that someone would love her.

Faces like 11 year old Nelly from the Free State providence. Her father had died when she was very young. Her mother had died in 2004, probably of AIDS. She told me she lived with her grandmother. I asked her if she treated her well and she said, “Yes, my grandmother loves me very much.” Then she began to sob. Her grandmother was sick and she didn’t know where she and her sister would go if her grandmother died. Her grandmother has an open wound on her lower leg that is getting worse. It had started from a garden hoe accident. Grandma could no longer walk or fix meals. They could not afford to go to the doctor. We cried together as we prayed that her grandmother would be healed and recover.

Faces like 10 year old Thabiso. His mother had died the previous Saturday of AIDS. He didn’t have a father. The grief was very fresh but he tried to be manly and not cry. He lost that battle when he told of his mother’s pain getting worse, her going to the hospital and not coming home. He and his brothers were living with their grandmother. His prayer request was that he wouldn’t die of AIDS and that his grandmother would be able to feed him and his brothers.

Faces like beautiful 16 year old beautiful Sabelo who had been an orphan for 3 years. She lived with her grandmother and sisters. Her friend had been raped walking home from her house two months ago. She knew how AIDS was spread and she knew her parents had died of AIDS. She was a virgin and wanted to stay that way until her wedding night. She cried for her friend and wanted to know how her friend could get an AIDS test. Her plan for protecting herself was to never go outside alone after dark - not even in her own neighborhood of tin shacks. Her prayer request was for her friend not to get AIDS and that she could remain a virgin until her wedding night.

Faces like 11 year old Mocso whose shoulders were stooped and whose eyes were downcast. No amount of coaxing resulted in a smile. An orphan, he lived with his aunt and uncle. His skin was pasty. He was the size of a 7 or 8 year old. His clothes were dirty and had holes in them. He had no socks and his shoes were too small with one sole loose. His face was thin and pointed, just skin over bones. When I took his hands to pray his boney fingers told the story of too many days without eating. His prayer request was for food. I cried as he walked away.

I won’t stop praying for these precious children whom the world has forgotten.

A Bible verse

Here is a Bible verse that has new meaning after spending time in El Paso.

Luke 21:1-4, (especially 4)
1As he looked up, Jesus saw the rich putting their gifts into the temple treasury. 2He also saw a poor widow put in two very small copper coins.3"I tell you the truth," he said, "this poor widow has put in more than all the others. 4All these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on."

The people of Cristo Rey live this.

Settle down Grandpa!

I haven't posted a Rant in awhile, but it isn't because I haven't had any experiences worthy of the rant. If you have read my rants, you know that bad customer service is a pet peeve of mine. My thought is, if you suck at dealing with people, perhaps a different career path should be in your future. I met a man last night who needs to take that advice. I went to the Iowa Energy game last night, in fact, got there early so I could get another doll. I mentioned last year in March (http://lostiniowa-markymark.blogspot.com/2008/03/sadest-thing-ive-seen-in-awhile.html), that I went early to get my Jeff Horner bobble head, which is essentially, a doll. Last night was Benny the Bull bobble head night, or "Mark now owns two dolls" night. Here is my new guy along with last years doll. I'm a big enough man to admit that I would go to a basketball game an hour early, stand in line with a bunch of kids, just to get my doll. I got there early because they were only giving them to the first 2000 fans. Why I thought that there would be more than 2000 fans at the game, when there hasn't been that many fans at any of the games this year, I have no idea. Just didn't want to show up at home doll-less and cry myself to sleep. (see cabbage patch kid craze of the 80's) (Not me, but almost every kid at that time that didn't get one) Anyway, I get my doll and head for the seats. I've been to a lot of Energy games. I've been a season ticket holder for the 2 years they have been in existence and I'm planning on signing up for next year. One of the good things about the games not being crowded is, you can buy the cheapest tickets they have, but still sit at center court. In fact, you can sit anywhere you want, except for on the floor. My brother Brian and I rarely sit in our purchased seats. We've been told by ushers that we can move. I'm just laying the ground work here, so bare with my short sentences. Brian and his clan and I move over to the area that we normally sit in, which is wide open. You should also know, the seating area for an Energy game is set up so you can probably fit, lets say 9,000 people in the bottom bowl. That could be off a bit, either higher or lower, because I'm not sure of the exact number. I know that the arena has a possible seating area of over 16,000 people, but the 2 upper bowls of the arena aren't open, so lets go with the 9,000 number. Of those 9,000 seats, there were probably 500 people at the game last night. That might be low, but I'll tell you there was not 1,000, this was the smallest crowd of the year, excluding the -29 degree game I attended in Jan. After we had settled into our seats, someone at the end of our row from our group, decided that we needed to move lower. We moved down to the row just above the floor, so just before an usher. They have long given up on having ushers in the stands, they only have them on the floor to keep people like me back in the cheap seats. The usher that was guarding the floor comes up to me and says, "You can't sit there, those aren't your seats." We'll I know that, I'm not completely positive where my seats are. Now he appeared to get angry, but I'm not sure why. Before I could say anything, he said, a bit louder and a bit angry, "You can't sit there, let me see your ticket!" At this point, I'm starting to get pissed, so I said, "calm down, we'll move!" At this point, he made a face at me, got madder and demanded to see my ticket again. Did I mention that this is an arena with 9,000 seats, where maybe 500 are full and he wants me in my exact seat? Did I also mention that at no time did I attempt to argue or disagree with him? At this point, I'm laughing because I don't think I've ever seen anyone get this angry over a non-issue. The only problem we had was, apparently, the row we chose is supposed to be left empty, which might have been the route he should have taken instead of the interrogation and frothing from the mouth route he did take. He made his way down the line telling all 7 of us that we were in violation of some federal law or something(OK, maybe I made that part up) We got up, with tails between our legs, and made our way back up the stairs, 4 rows higher, and sat down again. I felt this was a safe enough distance as to not stir the hornets nest that was usher Grandpa. He didn't even have a radio, let alone a night stick or God forbid, a gun. A gun in this old mans hand just might make a night in Juarez seem tame. I spent the next 20 minutes trying to convince my brother go back and sit in the row and when the guy told him he couldn't sit there, move down a seat. If you continue this process, you could drive this guy right over the edge. I still feel that all he had to do was tell us that NOBODY can sit in that row, and we would have moved, conflict over. But customer service expert that he is, he chose to get puffed up and red over 3 or 4 rows. Now that I think of it, we should have just moved one row back, which technically, was what he asked us to do, but I figured he would take that as a sign of aggression, since sitting in the first row seemed to be. I think Gradpa might what to investigate a career that involves paper or garbage, he should stay away from people and by all means, stay away from animals. I feel better now that is off my chest.

Beutiful lyrics

There is a song that I really like, that I thought I would share the lyrics on. It reminds me of my story, how I try to live my life now. The first line talks about living in the same town, all these years. I read what the writer meant by that, which really hit home with me. He said it isn't about a physical living in the same place, but a emotional or spiritual living in the same place. I look at my life before I met Marcy and realize that I was heading in the wrong direction. I wasn't doing anything horrible, but a lot of aspects were not healthy. My spiritual life was non-existent, which left me lonely and empty, even if I wasn't alone. I couldn't figure out why I was so alone, when I was surrounded by friends that I loved and who I knew loved me. It wasn't until I was re-introduced to God that most of that loneliness went away. Read through the lyrics and see if you see yourself. Should you? They talk about turning away from what the crowd is doing and doing what is right, but might not be popular. Every time I hear this song, and really listen to the lyrics, it brings a tear to my eye. I realize how close I was to never coming back to God.

Opposite Way, by Leeland

Living in the same town
For all these years
Doing the same old things
Hanging with the same crowd
And it’s starting to get crippling
You’ve never felt in place
And you tell yourself it’s all okay
But something’s different today
You want to run the opposite way
And it seems like you’re locked in a cage
And you need to find a way of escape
When everyone is setting the pace
It’s okay to run the opposite way
The Father sent His Son down
The light of men
The cross He bore was crippling
Rejected in His own town
They couldn’t see the sun shining
He knelt in the garden and prayed
Father, let this cup pass from me
It’s not Your will for me to stay
Your will for me is the opposite way
And it seemed like He was locked in a cage
And He couldn’t find away of escape
But through the cross He conquered the grave
My Jesus ran the opposite way
Oh, and through the cross
He conquered the grave
Oh, He ran the opposite way
Yeah, through the cross He conquered the grave
So you could run the opposite way

Why me?

While traveling this month, I realized that either weird things only happen to me, or maybe I just notice them more than other people. Here are a few examples.

When I left for El Paso, I checked in at the airport and headed to the security line. The people in front of me reeked of alcohol, and it was 5am.

There was a girl in line wearing one of those surgical masks. I'm not sure if it was to protect her from us or to protect us from her. Either way, odd.

As I'm disrobing so I can go through the metal detector, I keep hearing the detector going off. As I get to the end, I see that they are pulling all of the people who set the alarm off and sending them through a second line where they are using the hand wand. No big deal, but that line was 5 people deep and there wasn't anyone working the wand yet. I prayed that there were no beeps when I went through, and there weren't, so I didn't have to wait an extra hour until the wand guy showed up for work.

I made it to TX and headed to my room for a little relaxation before dinner. I was watching TV, when all of the sudden, it turned off. I turned it back on and thought that maybe I had unknowingly set the sleep timer, so I made a note to myself to not hit that button again. Only problem with that was, all of the buttons on the remote had been worn off, so I had no idea which button it was. I started hitting buttons but sent the TV into a frenzy of menus, different channels and almost ordered a movie, so I gave up. Later that night, it shut off again, this time I was sure I hadn't done it. It did this several more times over the next 2 days I was in the room. There was either an invisible timer that was shutting it off, or my room was haunted and my ghost didn't appreciate the humor of The King of Queens.

When I picked up the van at the airport, they asked me if I wanted to bring back the van with the gas tank full or have them fill it? It would be nice to let them do it, but the charge was listed at $6.99 per gallon, plus a service charge. Does that seem a bit excessive to you, or is it just me?

I've written about things that I have found in the guilty pleasure that is the Skymall magazine. Here is one for the follicley challenged. This contraption is called the X5 Hair Laser. It appears that you just put this thing on your head and move it around like a massager and it helps fill in your thin spots. That's fine, but they also have the picture below.

Sorry its a crappy picture, but this one wasn't on the website. Might be because, as far as I can see, the X5 doesn't help you grow hair, it just makes it frizzy, which gives the illusion of more hair. I could be wrong, but that is how I see it. If you can see it, the number of hairs is the same in both pictures, the second picture just seems that the hair is coming apart. Good luck on that one.

Next up, a subject matter that I addressed once before. If you read my blog awhile back when I was writing about this catalog, I showed you the following picture.

I wrote that I thought owning enough watches to fill this case, 24, seemed a bit excessive. Well now I found a perfect accessory to this, how about a case that automatically winds your watch as you store it?

Couple issues with this. First, it cost $1,499.95, a bit out of my price range. Second, why would you have 20 watches that needed winding? Haven't they heard of a battery operated Casio?

And finally, I found this subtle little pillow that you can hardly see.

Look closely, its a blue pillow just under the mans cheek, neck and 3/4 of his torso. I think I'll pick one of these babies up for my flight to Africa. I sure hope I have 3 seats to myself so I can use it.

New game invented

As you spend time with a group of people, you eventually run low on things to talk about, so you come up with other ways to entertain yourselves, hence the invention of "Bouncy Ball." You may think that you have played this before, but there are a number factors of danger that may not have been present when you played, that was most definitely present when we played. You start with a $.50 super ball bought from a truck stop somewhere in the middle of Texas. Then, you add 14 twin mattresses, 4 folding tables, 25 boxes of stuff and several people to play and even more who are more or less obstacles or targets, depending on how you look at it. Probably the most important thing to have is several people that either have no idea the game is in progress or who know the game is on, but refuse to participate. Then the object is simple, try to bounce the ball to another participant, dodging the above listed obstacles, especially the people who aren't playing or are oblivious that a small rubber object is being bounced near their melon. Here is an action shot of a game in progress. You will see that there are three of us currently playing, but what you can't see is several others that were playing, whether they wanted to or not.

You may be thinking to yourself, what is so dangerous about this? Well I'm here to tell you that if you aren't fully paying attention, you can get a serious red mark on you. Bouncing the ball is the easy part, but you want to try and get the ball to the next person after only one bounce, because if the ball hits the ground a second time, it not only changes the trajectory of the ball, but the ball also increases speed ten fold. Not to mention that as I have aged, my eyesight isn't what it use to be. This little ball is difficult to see. I was trying to stop it in time so it didn't pass me and drive right into a non participant, but damn that little thing was hard to see, especially after the second bounce and it sped up. Probably the most dangerous aspect of the game came when a game that was started by the inventor of the game who we will leave nameless to protect him from retaliation. Plus, as Val said all week, I wouldn't want to get Chad in trouble. Anyway, when this person started up a late night game, he bounced the ball to an unwilling participant who halfheartedly tried to catch the ball, which she missed. The ball bounced past her right towards our mission leader, who had all ready voiced her opinion of Bouncy Ball, and made it clear that she would not be an investor. She had her eyes closed, as she was trying to go to sleep, and now was unaware that the $.50 ball from hell was on its way towards her. Most everyone in the room held their breath and plotted their escape as we helplessly awaited the scream. I myself decided that if she was indeed plunked, I would fake sleep and hit the pillow, even break out the fake snore, just for good measure. The ball bounced over her head, much to all of our delight, only to land on a chair over her head and start bouncing around like a pinball machine, which only made our hearts speed up. It hit her water bottle, which instantly made me realize that if that metal water bottle falls off the chair and hits the floor, we are not only looking at getting in trouble for playing an unsanctioned game at the wee hour of 8:30pm, but now we are looking at a possible heart attack from a person who is totally oblivious to exactly how close she is to disaster. I'm happy to report that the ball fell harmlessly to the floor and we were all able to start breathing again. That meant we were also all witnesses to the shortest game of Bouncy Ball in history, one bounce. If you would like a written rules list and directions on how to play, here it is.

Directions:

1. Bounce ball

2. Try to catch ball

3. Rinse and repeat

Rules:

1. Do not eat Bouncy Ball

Enjoy!

Was I right or wrong?

I mentioned that my Christian responsibility was tested and I wasn't sure if I did the right thing. The story goes, that we were at the church in El Paso, when Pastor Rosemary came to us and said that there was a man in the parking lot that asked to speak to a "man." I'm not always sure that I act like a "man," but I think my age puts me in the man category. I headed outside with Chad and one of our mission leaders, Garrold. We found the gentleman outside and he shared his current situation with us. He said he was robbed in Juarez, made it across the border, but didn't have any money to get out of El Paso. He never said where he was from, but he was wanting to go to Dallas where his niece said she would pick him up. He was looking for about $68 for bus fare. He said he didn't drink or do drugs and just wanted to get out of El Paso. He was very emotional and kept calling Chad, "Holmes." Here are my thoughts on the story, broken down a bit.

1. He said he was robbed in Juarez, which if you know anything about the city, this is not only possible, but probable. The thought I had was, if they took his wallet, how did he get back across the border? Maybe they didn't take his passport, who knows. With the violence in the city, if his story is true, he's lucky they didn't shoot him, that seems to be the running theme there right now.
2. We couldn't hand him $68 dollars, because if he was scamming us, he would have just gotten what he was looking for, money for drugs or alcohol.
3. He claimed he didn't drink or do drugs, yet I smelled alcohol on him (at least it seemed like it to me). If he didn't drink or do drugs, what was he doing in Juarez in the first place? Right across the border are a bunch of bars and night clubs. There are a few markets as well, but he didn't appear to be the "shopping" kind of guy. What single guy goes to another country to buy ceramic turtles or that sort of thing? No guy I know. You have a wife, girlfriend or even a few buddies, then maybe, but by yourself? If he was visiting someone, he should have been able to get help from them. Seemed suspicious to me.

My thoughts, after the fact, were, if this story was true, wasn't I supposed to help my fellow man? I thought that maybe I should have called Pastor Rosemary back out to help him, seeing as how we didn't know the area or if there were other options for him. He said he was at the shelter the night before and the way they treated people there was "criminal." I thought, maybe we should have driven him to the bus station and bought him the ticket to Dallas. I don't know where the station is, but since we were in downtown El Paso and most Greyhound stations are located downtown, we were probably close. I wondered if his emotions were honest or worthy of an Academy award, because I thought the tears seemed genuine. To watch him walk away was a bit sad, but I'm still pretty sure his story was a bit, if not totally, bullshit. I questioned why he wanted to talk to a guy, when you would think that a woman might have a softer heart and be more willing to help. He had spoken to Pastor Rosemary, but asked for a man, so I wonder if he just didn't want to show his emotion to a woman. I know I'm totally over analyzing this, but after all, I was on a mission trip and my mission is to help people. Not just the people who I signed up to help, but anyone. I try to live my life that way. If his story was true, I just passed on an opportunity to do what Jesus commanded us to do.

I'm baaaaaack!

I'm home from El Paso and I have so much to tell you about. I went into this trip thinking that we would be able to help this little church, but I had no idea that we would make the impact we did and that they would impact me so much more. I got an eye opening education, a little (very little) glimpse of an immigrants situation, both legal and illegal. I've mentioned on this blog before, and it bares repeating, I'm not for illegal immigration, but I understand why it occurs. I'll tell you for a fact, that everyone on this trip has a new perspective on the whole situation. While we were there, we were able to build four, triple bunks. What is that exactly? Check this out:You can see the group on the bottom are sitting on the bottom bunk, without the mattress, then you can see the second and third bunks. These were built without plans, the bunk crew only used photos of regular bunks, then added a third to the top. I was really concerned that they wouldn't be very stable, as was the crew building them, but I can tell you that they are very stable as you can tell by the number of people on this one. I spent the first two days replacing ceiling tiles and adjusting the ceiling so it was all the same height, never done it before, but not too challenging. Here is the tile crew and our finished ceiling above us:

The ceiling looked like plans for a roller coaster, up and down, up and down. We were able to knock most of the hills and valleys out, leaving it surprisingly level. We also built shelves, painted and a few other odd jobs, but the best thing we did was bring hope to the pastor of Cristo Rey (more on that later). This little church, Cristo Rey, does amazing things with very little. They support over 100 kids in Juarez, putting them through school, even though they don't have any idea how they will pay the mortgage of the new building they just bought. They support Dr. Mendoza, who runs two clinics in Mexico that charge people what they can afford, including nothing if that is what they have. We heard how the church would be voting on their budget the Sunday after we left, and it was a -$45,000 bottom line. How can they do that you might ask? Faith. More faith than I will ever know. They subscribe to the, the more you give away the more you get back, school of thought. It has worked for them for 15 years, so whose to say it won't continue to work. In God, all things are possible, the proof is in El Paso. The trip was fantastic, as always, with a great group, most of who I all ready knew. Of the 14 people who went, there was only one first timer. I always feel that the returning missionaries prove that this trip is worthy of our time and money. If it wasn't, people would loose interest or drive and the mission would die. There are numerous people on this trip that I know will be there every year, barring a major life change or schedule conflict. We were able to spend time talking to members of the church, and I'll share pieces of their stories in a future post. There was one night that I felt my Christian responsibility was tested, and whether I failed or not I don't know. I'll share that as well, but I'm tired, so I want to go to bed. One last picture for this post. This is the group on our mountain top church service on Sunday more. Behind us is El Paso at the base of the mountain and waaaaaay in the distance, Juarez.

Souper Bowl results

We all know that the country is in the middle of a recession mess. As of now, my household is doing fine, but if the economy doesn't start doing something soon, I fear for my job. In the midst of all of this, I realize how lucky I am right now, to actually still have a job, house, food and heat (it's cold in Iowa again). There are people that are struggling to eat, which in a country that throws away more food than most countries eat, should never happen. My church is very mission driven, as you know from my trips, but also spends a lot of time, money and energy doing local stuff. Last year, our pastor challenged the congregation to bring in food to fill up the food bank. We were supposed to go to the store and buy the food/brand that we bought for our family and bring it in. The first sermon was on Saturday night at 4:30pm. I went back to church that night during the 6pm service, still Saturday night, and the lobby of our church was PACKED with food. It brought a tear to my eye. By Sunday morning, there was so much food you barely had room to walk. This was done on the spur of the moment, no planning. It took awhile to get the food separated, organized and distributed. This year, they planned ahead and here is the result:

http://www.desmoinesregister.com/article/20090204/NEWS/902040361

I went during the Super Bowl to help separate the donations, they said it was the hardest time to find volunteers. These are the kinds of things I love to do and wish I could figure out a way to make a living just helping other people, I'm keeping my eyes open. The place was covered with food, cans of everything imaginable stacked all over the place. My first job was to make a path through a mountain of cereal boxes so a cart could pass through. My thought was, easy, I just need to widen the small path buy a foot or two and the cart will pass through easily. The problem was, as soon as I moved one box, whether it be on the bottom of the pile or sometimes the top, an avalanche occurred and small children were lost amongst the fruity pebbles and captain crunch. I worked for quite sometime, making very little progress, before I was moved to more physical labor, boxes of ketchup, mustard and mayo. If my kids had seen the amount of ketchup, they would have freaked, it's their favorite vegetable. Hey, it's made from a tomato, so it counts. Wait, isn't a tomato a fruit? Thought I heard that, but I guess it isn't important to the story so forget I brought it up. I loved helping and am really happy at the amount of food people brought in. Hopefully, the economy will bounce back and I won't need to ask for my donations back in a couple of months.