I know I say this often, but I really miss writing daily. When I don't spend time writing, I feel like the creative energy just continues to build up and it just comes out in bursts in other avenues. I've been spending time writing entries in another blog I started. It's not as exciting as this blog though. That's all I'm going to say.

I also tend to have a penchant for writing poems. I've always loved creating poems and rhyming things. Sometimes they come to me quickly in my head and other times I may spend several minutes, hours, or days writing one piece. I've written way more than you think I have. People just don't know about it. And, no, I don't have this dark side of me that I let out in poems... I just like expressing thoughts and ideas through literal imagery. That's it. Most of the poems are about life, the people I care about, and ice cream. Because I love ice cream. Don't judge me.

Anyway. This blog entry will not be a poem. In an attempt to continue to share about the awesomeness of things about my life, here's a story from this past week.

I generally leave my house on Sunday mornings by 6:15AM. This past Sunday, as I was walking through my living room to head out the door, this is what I saw out my window into the backyard: (This picture was not actually taken at that time... it was much darker in the morning).


At first glance, I thought to myself, "Why did someone take everything out of my shed and put it in the back yard? And then take the shed?" I mean, I know with this economy, people are facing hard times, but taking a shed and leaving the stuff inside is really bad. I could only assume that the shed-abductors had enough broken rakes and plastic plant pots.

Anyway. I didn't have time to deal with it Sunday morning. My mind is in a special place on Sunday morning--I rarely give anything a second thought if it isn't related to producing services for Southside on Sunday morning. So, I left it like it was.

That afternoon, I came back to the house with my girlfriend Rachelle and we scoped out the damage. The shed was still there, surprisingly. I just couldn't see it in the dark. We had a bad storm over the weekend and it blew the whole shed over, leaving the foundation and everything just sitting on the slab.


So, while not relieved (because, hey, it was just a bunch of junk in a shed... plus the lawn mower), it was interesting to know what really happened. We looked at it for a few minutes and then left.

On Monday afternoon, my landlords (read: my parents who own the house that I rent) came over to scope out the damage for themselves and help fix the situation. I did a pretty good job of letting them do most of the work while making it look like I was helping. That's not true. I did a fair amount of work. We cleaned a lot of it up and threw away a lot of the junk.

All in all, we found like 12 broken rakes, some clippers that were missing a handle, 387 plastic pots, 2 buckets of seashells, a broken grill, and some other random things.


I enjoyed getting to clean out most of the junk. Since Tim and I moved into the house back in February, I've been afraid to look in that shed. Not that I'm scared of bugs... but in a shed like that, my brain starts to imagine a spider that has grown so big that it eats small cats. That's all I'm saying. So cleaning it out was good. Anyone who knows me knows that I am a minimalist... I don't like to keep junk around that I don't need. That doesn't mean that I don't keep things that have sentimental value... but at the same time, if I have something that I don't use, I either sell it or give it to someone else. Except for my GI Joe collection. Stop hounding me about it. I'm keeping Dialtone. He is awesome.

Anyway. My dad and I were able to flip the shed back over onto the foundation and nail it back down. I say that like I did a lot of work, but really I just used one hand and flipped it right over and my dad used a bunch of screws to secure it in place.


The doors are kind of "by name only" because they got so bent that they won't even shut. Oh well. I never locked it anyway. Please don't come steal my lawn mower. Actually, it's my dad's lawn mower that he lets me borrow. So, don't steal my dad's lawn mower. I would hate for Tim to have to cut the grass with a pair of scissors while I sit on the back porch sipping lemonade. Actually, that doesn't sound half bad.

Anyway. There's a fun story about my life. I many more things to share, but that's enough for now. I can hear the box of Cheerios calling me from the kitchen...

Later,

Joe

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So, this past Wednesday, I went to the Hillsong United concert at the Verizon Wireless amphitheater in Alpharetta, Georgia. I think that "Alpharetta" is just a fancier name for "outside of Atlanta", but, whatever.

It was a great time. Normally on Wednesday nights, I'd be stuck at the church supporting the band practice. Not that I feel that my time there is wasted... but I do sit around a lot on those nights. It was a nice change of pace to not have practice and to be able to do something else fun.

I road down with Andrew (my assistant at the church), his wife Kristi, and my friend Rachelle. It was a good trip down. I passed a lot of the time by being talkative and taking boring photos with my camera... but we've all established that I often take photos as a way to remove myself from the social scene.


The concert was great. I'm not a huge Hillsong United fan, but we've done a few songs from their group at Southside for worship. I'd say out of all of the songs I heard, I only knew like 3 or 4, but it was still a jam. Or, a jam and a half, you could say.


I really didn't take that many photos during the concert. I was the only one who brought a camera... and sometimes I just enjoy where I am too much to really care about taking photos. Not that I would have had taken great photos from all the way at the back of the amphitheater... where we were sitting. Haha.

There were camera operators working the concert, which was a nice touch. I didn't really like any of the creative shots or composition for the first half of the concert, but it got better (a lot better, actually) during the second half.

Also, halfway through the concert, it started raining lightly. Then it started pouring. The cool thing was though, that even though it was pouring down rain, no one left the concert. Ok, I couldn't see anyone leaving... but maybe a few people did. Sinners. God knows you left. Just kidding. I mean, it was an amphitheater, so... of course we expected to possibly get wet, right?

There was something cool about worshiping in the rain though. I mean, it's one thing to raise a hand or arm or hands or arms in the air when you're singing to God. It was an even better experience to do that in the rain... with your entire body getting wet and your arms in the air getting hit by water and singing "In my heart, in my soul, Lord I give you control... Consume me from the inside out Lord!"

I left the concert with a joyful heart and thankful spirit that the God we worship can show His awesome power in so many ways. I was a little jealous that all of the band members had haircaps. And to think, I almost brought mine with me, and I didn't. The ride home was a lot of fun even though we were all pretty much soaked by that point. I enjoyed the experience and if I had to do it all again, I'm not even sure if I'd bring a poncho.

Well, maybe just a towel. But still.

Later,

Joe

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Stopping my daily blogging was probably one of the smartest decisions I ever made, but I still miss it. Every time I sit down at my computer, I feel like I could just write for days about... well... my days. Some of it would make you laugh, some of it would make you cry. Not that my life is all that melodramatic, but you'd definitely be bored to tears.

So, in my endeavor to consider myself a "writer", here's an entry centered around one main event. Look, it's my blog. I can do that if I want to.

Anyway. This past weekend, I had the privilege of being a groomsman in the wedding for my friend Justin DeGarmo. I remember when I met his girlfriend (now wife) for the first time. He introduced me to her, as he introduced me to many other people, as "Big Papa". Justin was the first one who started calling me that years ago and the nickname just stuck.... probably because I am big and sort of a father figure. Or, maybe it's just because there's a part of me somewhere inside that wants to be somebody else. Who knows... well, besides the voices in my head.

So, when Justin got engaged, he asked me to be a groomsman in his wedding. I put the wedding date on my calendar and grew more excited and anxious about the big day as it drew closer. For whatever reason, their wedding was on a Friday night. That meant the rehearsal was on Thursday night.

The wedding was in Atlanta, so I headed down Thursday afternoon after visiting a friend in the hospital so that I could be there in plenty of time for the rehearsal and all of the festivities. The drive down was pretty uneventful, unless you count me driving 75MPH on the interstate and somehow randomly spotting my dad driving on the other side of the interstate in the other direction. Pretty good for someone like me with seemingly terrible vision. It was more one of those things where I put my crazy good photographic memory to use... I saw the shape of his car from far away and recognized it was him. It made for an interesting phone call when I passed him though.

Anyway. Back to the main story at hand. I drove to Atlanta (Jonesboro, really) in record time. I wasn't really speeding, but it was just an easy drive with little to no traffic. I made it there by 3pm. I parked at the hotel, grabbed some of my things from my SUV, and headed inside. Already, I was starting to hear people yell, "Big Papa!" as I came in. In fact, I was pretty much solely referred to as "Big Papa" for the duration of this event. Someone called me "Joseph" and I didn't even turn around because I was so used to hearing Big Papa.

I was introduced to new friends by my lofty moniker. Ok, I really don't use that word often enough. Moniker. Anyway. I am pretty sure that there were a good number of people there with the wedding party that never knew my real name. That is just really hilarious.

So, the rehearsal and all that stuff went really well. I had to walk down the aisle and escort a bridesmaid and all that stuff. I like to think I did a great job, but in reality, it's not that hard. The rehearsal dinner was a lot of fun.



After the dinner, we all headed back to our hotel. Most of the "young folk" (me included) decided to go next door to the bar by the hotel because it was Karoake night. "Big Papa" had been elected to start us off singing. When we got to the bar, we quickly realized that it didn't look like we'd get to sing or participate. The room was full, and they sat us outside where we couldn't even hear the karoake music. So, it quickly became a "let's all hang out here and have some drinks instead". Look, I have nothing against alcohol. I personally choose not to drink for a variety of reasons. (1) I'm already pretty awesome and, if inebriated, there's no telling how outgoing I could get. The world is not ready for that. And (b) I feel like it honors my parents who taught me not to drink. So, it's a personal choice I make. I don't feel like having beer separates me from God. Wine does though. Just kidding.

So, being the "only guy there drinking water", I decided to head back to the hotel. I got a few stares from some of the wedding party and a few concerned "Are you ok Big Papa?". I ensured them that I was fine. I went back to my hotel room to relax.

The hotel room was cramped. The parents' of the bride and groom had reserved rooms for all of the wedding party. I was very grateful because that saved me some money. I was anticipating 2 guys to a room. Instead, we had 5 to a room. Not that bad, but, for those that understand my personality, you know I like alone time / personal space. If I ever get married, my wife will probably hate it when I retreat. I enjoy being around people, but if I don't at least get a small amount of time where I am not expected to be sociable, I get very tired. That's all I'm saying. I like people. I like talking to people. Just not 24 hours a day.

I also like clean/organized spaces. Most people wouldn't think that if they ever see my office, but that's different. My office is messy because I don't have places to put anything, and a lot of people just dump stuff on my desk. My computer files are impeccably organized though. That has to count for something. At home though, I keep the house pretty much spotless. Sometimes I let it get out of hand just so I can clean it... but for the most part, I enjoy keeping things tidy. Very tidy. So, you can imagine that sharing a room with 4 other guys and all their stuff on the floor, etc. just drove me a little nuts.

Anyway. I came back to the room, walked around for a bit, and then turned in to go to sleep. I wasn't really that tired but I figured I could at least fall asleep as a way to avoid talking to people. I know. I'm terrible.

I slept great. I woke up at 7AM, got dressed, and sat around in the hotel for a while. Around 9:30AM, I grabbed my camera from my car and went for a walk. I walked all the way down to a McDonalds near the hotel to get some breakfast, fully anticipating to end up sitting there alone eating breakfast.

As I was sitting there, an older guy came and sat down in a booth near me. He began reading the paper and made a comment (the type of comment that was really just said to himself but you could tell he wanted other people, specifically me, to hear it) as he was reading. He said something about "I'd like to take a bat to that guy's head and see how he likes it..." (referencing some story in the paper about a crime... I'm terrible at following news stories but it was something to that effect).

Normally, I ignore these types of comments... mainly because I'm really introverted. Moreso than you might think at times. But, as I sat there, I really felt like this would be an opportunity to talk to this guy about Jesus. So, I turned to him and in the most graceful tone I could muster, simply said, "You're right man, but that's why we have Jesus--He gave us grace to live and we can give that grace to other people." I tried to say it in a way that was not condecscending or hurtful, but just open and insightful.

I slowly started talking to this guy, Charles. At first, it was an occasional comment over my shoulder before turning back to reading blogs and tweets from my phone. See, I was still trying to avoid conversation while having conversation. But, we kept talking and eventually had turned to face each other and stop what we were doing to just talk.

He was older than me. I'd say he was 65. He looked at me and said, "I can tell you're a Christian", which, yes, I confirmed to him that I was a follower of Jesus. He told me a lot of things... most of which were just advice from an old man to a young man. Things about working hard, being diligent, respecting women, and honoring God. He was a Christian too (saved at 11 years old) and in fact, goes to the same church as Truett Cathy, the guy that started Chik-fil-a.

We kept talking and before I realized it, it had been over 2 hours. It was a great opportunity for me to encourage and be encouraged by another follower of Jesus. We closed out our conversation by praying. Charles prayed for very specific things in my life. Things that, strangely, I would not write on this blog, but felt compelled to share with him. I'm weird like that.

When we finished praying, another woman nearby had teared up a little bit and said she had been praying right alongside us. What a blessing! I felt like I needed to get going and get back to the hotel, so I said goodbye and walked back to the hotel.

I shared part of my conversation that I had with Charles with a couple of the groomsmen but for the most part just kept it to myself. It was a good way to spend 2 hours of my Friday and it made me think... I wonder how many of these opportunities come my way that I simply ignore because I don't want to interact with people?

Anyway. The rest of the day was great. I went to lunch with Justin and a few other people to Chili's. Gotta love those Crispy Honey Chipotle Chicken Crispers. Yeah, I don't know why they put Crispy in the name twice. I personally would like it if they called them "Super Spicy Awesome Tasty Drippy Messy Chicken Fingers", but the manager said that the product names come from corporate or something and can't be controlled by the franchise. Lame.

During the afternoon before we had to get ready for the wedding, some of us went to see the movie, "Angels and Demons". It was a sequel to the movie, "The Da Vinci Code", both of which were based on books by author Dan Brown. I enjoyed the movie. I remember when I saw "The Da Vinci Code" for the first time, I enjoyed it but was equally bothered by the heresy of the film. I don't think I'm really spoiling it for anyone--but it basically claims that instead of returning to heaven, Jesus stayed on earth, married Mary Magdelene, had kids, and died on earth. Obviously we know this is not true, but in spite of that, it made for an interesting film. "Angels and Demons" was originally written as a prequel book to "Da Vinci Code" (I think) but felt kind of like a sequel movie.

It was good. I enjoyed it and it was a good way to spend the afternoon. The movie was over around 4pm and we all headed back to the hotel to get ready. We were supposed to be ready to go and be at the wedding chapel by 6pm. So, I got ready at 4pm. It took me minutes to get ready, mainly because I'm awesome at putting on tuxes. I ended up standing around in the hotel for almost an hour and a half while waiting on everyone else to get ready. I guess I should have just waited a little longer to get ready. The bride's mom saw me ready so early and told me she wished she could clone "Big Papa" so everyone could be ready on time like me. It's good when other people notice and value my commitment to being on time.


The wedding went well. It started at 7:30pm so there was a lot of standing around beforehand, and of course, copious pictures afterward. Everything went off without a hitch (well, except for THE hitch... of marriage... nevermind). After the wedding, the reception was on-site, which was nice because we didn't have to drive anywhere to get there.


I ate some food and mingled with some of the wedding party and a few other people. I'm terrible at mingling. I'm not like "let's only talk about the weather" bad, but overall, I just don't like smalltalk all that much. Anyway. After the bride/groom dance and the bride/father dance, they opened the dance floor up for everyone to join. No one came out, so, I stood up and slow danced with one of the other groomsmen. It was hilarious and weird at the same time. A lot of people laughed and within seconds, the dance floor was full of people. A whole room of strangers thinks I like men now... but at least I got the dancing started. You're welcome.


I left around 9:45pm and headed out. I probably should have stayed longer since I was in the wedding party, but I really didn't want to stay for the duration of the reception since I was planning on driving home that night. Sharing a hotel room with 4 other guys for another night just wasn't that appealing, I guess.

Another groomsman rode back with me to the hotel so he could drive home too, and I headed out. I had to fuel up my SUV before driving too far, but then was on my way home. I made it home in pretty good time, getting to my house in Simpsonville just before 1AM.

Overall, I enjoyed getting to be a part of the wedding and it was an honor to get to stand up there by my friend Justin and support their union. It was great getting to reconnect with some familiar and old friends and meet new people too. And, I have to say, answering the Spirit and talking to that guy was probably the most rewarding and encouraging conversation I had all weekend.

Later,

Joe

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