My sermon Wednesday went well. I was pretty nervous the night before, but when I woke up the next morning, all I felt was excitement. I was ready to go. There were fewer students than I anticipated -- it was a pretty day outside, and I think a lot of them decided to use their chapel skips. I guess 600-700 were there, maybe more. (I've never been able to estimate the number of large groups of people well.) Still, that's (by far) the largest group I've ever spoken to. When I got up to speak, I only felt the briefest twinge of fear during the silence when I was arranging my notes on the podium. Then I opened my mouth -- and suddenly I was caught up in my subject matter. It all flowed easily from there. It was great -- what a rush!

Ten minutes after chapel was over, I was in my next class. Not a single student said anything to me about it, and none of them were talking about it to each other. I have too much self-respect to say, "Hey, whaddya think of my sermon?" so I just went on with the lesson. Later that day, though, a number of students came by my office to thank me for it and compliment me on it. One Bible & Theology professor came up and said it was the best sermon on Mary & Martha he'd ever heard.

Next week I'll get a CD of it, and I assume I'll be able to pick out lots of little mistakes in it, or things I'd rather have done differently, but that's to be expected.

The first day of spring was a beautiful 38 degrees (F). Here's hoping it gets hot and sweltering really soon now.

A few weeks ago I was at my parents' house in the evening. Looking out the window, we saw seven deer walking through our backyard. It was really amazing.

Recently, I noticed that a local pizza place had added an Italian buffet. I tried it out one Wednesday, and it was okay. Not great. That is, it was mostly pasta, which I can't eat enough of to make it worth my money. I've heard it's better on the weekends, but it's more expensive. Maybe I'll give it another shot.

So, what's the verdict on my new photo? Sister calls it "amusing, yet oddly like you." Wow, that's unusual CONSIDERING IT'S A PICTURE OF ME!!!

Also, Wednesday I speak in chapel to ~900 students. I'm speaking about Mary of Bethany (Luke 10).

This week was Spring Break, so I decided to go on a Photo Safari!

You see, whenever you enter my college, you crest a little hill, and behind the campus (nestled in a little hollow) you can see a mountainish thing. I decided to climb said mountainish thing and take pictures as I went.

First, we went past the pond and up the paved drive that went a little ways up the mountainish thing.


A little ways up, the road stopped and I had to go offroad. I took the opportunity to turn around and snap a shot of the guys' dorm, from behind and above.


Going up the slope, I came upon a curious outcropping of rock! Well, I couldn't let this pass undocumented.


After ascending a little further, I found a great view of the pond from above.


Approaching the summit, the ground became steep.


I'd guess that was at least a 45-degree incline, wouldn't you? Maybe more.

Anyway, once I reached the top, I took a shot of the county hospital off in the distance, where my mom works.


Finally, I set the camera on a stump and set the timer to take a picture of me, triumphant and victorious, atop the crest.


Hooray for Spring Break!

This week the poetry I taught my class was centered around the theme of “Death.” It’s listed in the syllabus as such, and this is the part of the semester I’ve always taught that subject.

This time, though, it was different.

This time, I had a student whose father had recently died.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

I hope that, instead of just bringing more pain, the poetry helped the student to find strength.

("Do not go gentle into that good night," Dylan Thomas, 1951)

All the money was stolen out of the change tray of my car – just under $2.

No, wait – the thief left a penny.

What I’m wondering is: why leave a penny? I mean, if $1.62 (or so) is so important to you that you have to steal it, why leave a penny? Some last vestige of conscience? Some gesture of Robin Hood nobility? Seed money?

Anyway, it’s spring time, and next week is Spring Break. The flowers are blooming and the leaves are budding, and I’m looking forward to hiking some next week while everyone’s gone.

A few weeks ago, my reports circulated that Asbury College (my alma mater) was experiencing revival. Press releases from the institution credited it to the House of Prayer established on the campus, citing student committments to “more than 40 hours of prayer each week” I was really excited to hear about that, since that’s the kind of prayer we’re trying to establish here on this campus. I sent an email to some friends of mine that still live in that area, and they corrected the reports – the House of Prayer there is going 3-6 hours a week. Even though they have more students, we’re doing more praying!

Moreover, what the press reports didn’t say was that the revival began when a student testified in chapel about his experience at the OneThing conference in Kansas City – the place I was involved with and that started the 24-7 House of Prayer movement in the U.S.!

Last week our church got new carpet. We saw it today for the first time. Oooh, it was shiny. Er, metaphorically speaking. It was actually a dull brown. It was really cool, though, because before that we just had concrete floors. The carpet really helps insulate the building, as well as absorbing the sound and taking the the “edge” off the electric guitar and drums.

Last week I went to the local coffee shop to talk with my pastor. (That was the day the water went out and I had to go with dried soap all over me, if you’ll recall.) I’m teaching on the gift of prophecy in our small group, and I wanted to run over some things with him to make sure what I was teaching was in line with the church’s doctrine. We had a good time, and he encouraged me a lot. He’s also really excited about what’s happening on the campus – the last few weeks, we’ve had students signed up to pray on Thursdays from 7 am to 10 pm in one-hour slots in the prayer room. We’re hoping to grow and start covering parts of Wednesday and Friday, as well.