Topher. Chris. Topherious. Mr. Right. You may know him by many names. You may know him as "that guy who made a perfect score on the ACT and gets ragged for it daily." However you know him, you are bound to love him. He is...
...Christopher Jennings Wright.
Chris was a prime member of the youth group when I worked in Nashville at Crieve Hall. Still up to great things, he's at Freed now, majoring in Biochem, et cetera and generally living the dream. One of the things you need to know about Chris is that he can lead all eight verses of Just As I Am blindfolded in a hurricane and never lose the beat. No, that's not it. You need to know that he's going to Costa Rica to do Work for the Big Man. If you have a minute, send one up for Chris and his friends who are spending a week or so of their winter break serving in a foreign land.
Great talking to you, Jennings.
Tuesday, December 22
The image you see above is of the one and only Frizzell Family Power Couple. I am honored to have them pictured here in my blog. If this Power Couple's contributions to the universe could be written in books, the whole world could not contain them. Yes, they are a lot like Jesus.
Thanks for the Skype chat, Tim and Janie. Love to you.
Wednesday, December 9
Something about the yellow Thai curry tonight made me open up. Six of us were sitting around empty plates and talking about what it would look like to be obedient to the following charge:
Pray without ceasing.
The volume of insight that poured out of three words was impressive. It got me thinking. Then it got me talking of a time in my life not so long ago, when my relationship with the Big Man had a unique, personal aspect.
I think the idea came to me when I heard about all those people who close themselves in their offices every morning with two chairs facing one another, so that they can sit in one and chat with the Big Man, sitting a few feet away in the other seat. I think reading The Shack might've also had something to do with it.
Not long before we came to China, I started the habit of clearing out the passenger seat when I was alone in the car so that there was a clutter-free spot for the Big Man to relax. Other times, I'd walk on the left side of the sidewalk so he wouldn't feel too crowded walking beside me on the right. I think both parties were content with the arrangement. But sometimes I would forget, and throw my McDonald's trash in the passenger seat and feel like a chump for getting ketchup on the Creator of the universe.
Sometimes we would talk, you know. Just about whatever. But most of the time, we just chilled. Kinda sat there, you know, or walked or whatever. I don't know how it worked, but I think we got pretty close. Please don't think I'm weird or inappropriately cloven to Deity, but sometimes we held hands. In my manliest tone, I want to tell you that it was very cool.
Anyway, that's the best way I know to obey the above three words. So will I resume this old habit of hanging out with the Big Man all day? Let's just say that when I finish this blog entry, I'm going to turn to my left and fist-bump the Great I AM.