Continuing our series of the Bayou top 10 is something that is often associated with my hometown, but it's not always considered one its more desirable attributes. Monday morning I left the house early on my way to visit with one of our families at the hospital, and as I pulled out of the driveway, it hit me. We've been back for about 6 weeks now and I hadn't even noticed it was missing until Monday. What is it, you ask?
The Smell...
If you are from the Bayou or if you've visited much you probably know what I'm talking about. That mixture of brackish water, seafood, and sundry other scents combines to create an aroma that's unmistakable. The smell of the Bayou has been the source of some derision directed towards our lovely city, and I think it's a bit unfair.
I spent the 7th-11th grades at Grand Bay, and endured my share of Bayou jokes. Many of them were focused on The Smell. Whenever those jokes came, I was reminded of something my dad often told me whenever I was at work at the shipyard. If you've ever had the opportunity to work in the hold of a shrimp boat, you know that The Smell doesn't go away any time soon.
Me: Dad, it really stinks in here. Dad: Smells like money to me.
And therein lies the heart of the entire situation. Every time that you are hit by The Smell, it means that somebody in the Bayou made a living that day. When you smell The Smell, another oyster has been shucked, another crab has been picked, and another boat has unloaded its catch. When you smell the salt water, know that it's carrying in another boat to be repaired by another welder, sand blaster, or painter.
This week I can turn on my tv and watch a show featuring a boat built here in Bayou La Batre. I can go pop in a DVD and find one of our hometown products carrying a certain infamous captain. Under different circumstances, I could travel through our country and enjoy the finest seafood available and know that it came from here. That's something to be proud of.
It may not always smell pleasant. But, it smells like home to me.
I have to take a moment and apologize for the lack of posts over the last few days. I normally take the weekends off, but I managed to tack Friday and Monday onto the weekend. It's an exciting week here on N. Wintzell. Suzanne and the kids are getting ready to back to school. The kids started going to the daycare this week, while Suzanne is preparing her classroom. Which brings me to my next point: Suzanne got a job! Suzanne will be teaching at Dixon Elementary School this year. Thanks to all of you for your prayers for us as Suzanne went through the job hunt. Now, if we can just sell a house in Wetumpka...
Anyway, on to some other assorted thoughts: I had the opportunity to go to the Mobile Baptist Association's Pastor's conference yesterday. Dr. Mark Foley, the president of the University of Mobile, shared with us about a topic that he has been dealing with a lot of late, revival. For those of us who have been a part of the churched culture of the South, revival has a very definite meaning. Revival is the term that has been used to describe a series of evangelistic meetings hosted by the church or churches in a community that go beyond the regular worship services of the church. Members of an older generation will recall camp meetings under tents that lasted for weeks, while others may recall 4 night events that were hosted in the church from Sunday to Wednesday. Regardless of the nature of the meeting, "revival" isn't an accurate description of what is taking place. We are having a specially designed worship service and we hope that revival springs from that meeting.
What is revival? It has been defined as "a renewal or a restoration". If you look at the roots of the word, it becomes apparent that revival refers to the refreshment of something that was once full of life and vitality. You can't revive something that has never been alive. Revival can't take place in the lives of people who have never known life. Revival takes place when the Holy Spirit moves in the lives of people who know Him and have experienced His work of regeneration.
I'm experiencing a season of revival in my own heart and life right now, and I'm thankful for the work that God is doing in me. As part of that work, I want to see the spiritual vitality of God's people revived. So, what part do I play in that. The most commonly cited verses on revival come from 2 Chronicles 7:14:
14 if my people who are called by my name humble themselves, and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land.
A few thoughts on this passage:
1) This is not a magic formula for revival. Too many times we are guilty of believing that this verse and others like it are instructions given to tell us how to get God to do what we want Him to do. When you find yourself in this position, you can remind yourself of these truths.
Repeat after me: I am not God. I did not create the universe. I did not create myself. I did not number the stars nor do I call them out by name. I am a finite creature. I can barely get myself ready in the morning and handle the day's tasks by myself. If it weren't for my wife, I couldn't do that. (OK maybe that's just me) In spite of my shortcomings I have experienced God's gracious salvation in Christ. It's not on my own merit. I didn't do anything to deserve it. It's not my job to manipulate God to do what I want Him to do. I offer up my prayers to a gracious Father who desires to hear me and loves me. I do not tell Him what to do. If I were in charge I would screw things up royally. I will not tell God what to do. I will not attempt to manipulate God with my words. I will pray to Him and listen to His instructions. I will obey His commands and trust Him for the results.
2) While it is not a magic formula for revival, it does show us our responsibility in the revival of a nation. What are we to do? Humble ourselves and pray, seek God,and turn from our sins. Simple enough? If we do that, then God has to do this, right? If that's our thought process, then we've probably missed the boat on the first part. We don't need to do those things because we believe that by doing them we will force God's hand and make him bring revival. We pray and repent because they are the right response to our situation. When we do that, we can trust that God is in control of the rest of it and know that He will do the reviving.
3) Revival will spread. When I share what God has done and is doing in my life with someone else then the spark of revival grows until it becomes a flame spread across our families, our friends, and our communities. For those of you out there who are reading, when you've experienced God's work of renewal in your life, you're not meant to keep it to yourself. When we share what God has done in our lives, we will see the evangelistic explosion that so many of us desire. We will see the transformation of individuals through the power of God.
The Great Welsh Revival that began in 1904 was one of the great moves of God of the 20th Century. According to one account:
"People were changed in so many ways. The crime rate dropped, drunkards were reformed, pubs reported losses in trade. Bad language disappeared and never returned to the lips of many – it was reported that the pit ponies failed to understand their born again colliers who seemed to speak the new language of Zion – without curse and blasphemy – even football and rugby became uninteresting in the light of new joy and direction received by the Converts."
That's what I hope to see. People changed by the impact of the gospel so that our community, our state, and our nation experience revival. I spent last night with a group of pastors and we heard stories of alcohol abuse, drug addiction, and gambling problems. We heard about families that were being destroyed by all of these things. We want to help. We want to minister. So many of these issues have bubbled to the surface in recent days, but I understand this: These problems were there before. Our current situation has just exacerbated the problem. The solution is out there, and I know that God is at work in our community right now. I'm praying and I hope you are as well.
It's been a good day here on N. Wintzell. I had the opportunity to visit with an old friend this morning and reminisce about days past. My beautiful wife invited me to lunch at the Lighthouse where I enjoyed one of the better shrimp poboys I've ever had. I must say that the meal was enhanced greatly by my company. I returned to the church office after lunch and was productive as I prepared for this Sunday's services, but the afternoon did come with a bit of a surprise.
I had a visitor come to my office. He was an older gentleman and he introduced himself and told me that he was with a group from Marion, South Carolina who were passing through on their way to Houston. In the wake of Hurricane Katrina, they were a part of a team of volunteers from their church who came to help clean up after the storm. They had come in the immediate aftermath and were curious to see what condition the church was in now.
It was a joy to be able to show them the fruits of their (and many others') labors. I got to take them to a beautiful auditorium with like new pews, new carpet, lighting, and sound that were all of the product of groups like theirs that had shared the love of Christ with us. As we talked and I had the opportunity to thank them for their work, I couldn't help but think of Paul's words to the Galatian believers:
9 And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up. 10 So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith. Galatians 6:9-10
In letters to the Galatians, Ephesians, and Timothy, Paul uses the image of a household, a family, to describe us as believers. I'm thankful that I've got a family that loves me, both physically and spiritually. It's a blessing to know that, whatever storm may come, I'm a part of the household of faith that will be there to support me. As believers, we are never alone, because we've been brought into a family with an awful lot of brothers and sisters.
A few weeks ago, as my family ate lunch in McDonald's, I had the opportunity to speak to some cousins that I hadn't seen in quite a while. When I finished and returned to my seat, Maggie asked me who those people were that I was talking to. I told her that those folks were her cousins. Since we've returned home, Maggie's learned that she has many more cousins than she ever knew about, and with her head swimming she told me, "Daddy, I can't have anymore cousins".
I'm glad that God has opened up the door for me to be a part of His family. Today, I met some members of the family that I'd never been introduced to before. I met some people that cared enough about the household of faith to travel all the way from South Carolina to offer their time and sweat to do good unto us. I think I'm going to do my best to do the same.
Coming home has been a blast so far. To all of our friends and family, thanks for helping us with the transition. One of the best parts about this homecoming has been all of the things that I've gotten reacquainted with, that I never realized I'd missed. I could go on and on about some of the items that I've fallen in love with, but I thought it might be best to present them to you in the form of a Top 10 (I like lists, they keep me in order). So, I present to you today #10 on the Bayou Top 10:
Crawfish flavored potato chips? What could possibly go wrong?
#10- Zapp's Potato Chips Zapp's Potato Chips, made at the chippery in Gramercy, Louisiana are simply the finest potato chips known to man. If you've never had the opportunity to sit down with a bag of Cajun Crawtators, you've missed an opportunity to enjoy what the good folks at Zapp's describe as "the taste of a Cajun boiled seafood feast that goes crunch and your mouth goes wow!" I can't say that I disagree with them.
There was some debate about the inclusion of the Zapp's chip on this list. My wife reminded me that Zapp's chips are available region-wide. I noted that the Bear (if you're reading my blog and don't know who I'm talking about read this) was a Golden Flake man. My moment of relief came when I realized that Coach Bryant passed in 1983, two years before the founding of Zapp's Potato Chips in 1985 by Ron Zappe. With those hurdles cleared, Zapp's had to make the list.
So, why Zapp's? Three words: crawfish flavored chips. There are some ideas that are floating around in the ether waiting for the right man at the right moment to grab hold of, and I'm glad that Mr. Zappe found this one. While the Crawtator is the premiere flavor, all of Zapp's unique flavors are excellent. Some personal favorites include Cajun Dill, Cracked Pepper and Sea Salt, and Hotter n' Hot Jalapeno. Listen to this testimonial: "My friend, Brent, ate 6 bags one night and swore he was having a heart attack. A quick trip to the emergency room and the $800 E.K.G. bill later determined it was semi-terminal indigestion and jalapeno overload". With reviews like these, you don't want to miss out.
Another favorite of Zapp's fans are the limited edition chips, which come in flavors such as Caribbean Key Lime, Spicy Creole Tomato spiked with Tobasco, and Voodoo Gumbo. Mr. Zappe, for your many contributions to my current state of physical fitness and for launching the potato chip industry into bold new directions, I salute you! Do you have a favorite Zapp's product? If so, share your favorites in the comments section below, and stay on the lookout for more of our continuing series on the Bayou Top 10.
Las Lajas Cathedral in Ipiales, Colombia H/T to Jungle Boy on Flickr
It's a beautiful day as I sit here in my office on N. Wintzell. The past three days have been good, as well as productive. Today I've been taking care of a few tasks around the office. The pictures are finally hung, so I guess I'm official. Yesterday, I had the opportunity to spend time visiting with a number of our folks, and I have to say that it's a great blessing to get to enjoy the company of God's people and to share their encouragement.
Saturday was a fun day for Suzanne and I, as I finally took the time to hang pictures around our house. Hanging pictures is not one of my favorite activities. Unfortunately, Suzanne and I have different views on how to hang pictures. Suzanne wants them to be hung correctly, while I just want them to be hung. Fortunately, I was conscientious of her desire, and I took the time to do the job properly. At the end of the day, I was amazed at the difference that a few pictures made in beautifying our home. Saturday, the pastorium at FBC Bayou La Batre underwent an amazing transformation, as it went from being our house to being our home. As I walk through the halls and I see pictures of my family, I know in my heart that this place is our home.
I'm proud of my wife. She's put a lot of work in over the past few weeks to setup our home the way that she wants it. She's done it without a lot of help from me. We take pride in our homes, don't we? The same thing is true of our spiritual homes. I'm blessed by the folks that I watch each week as they serve the Lord by taking care of the buildings and grounds of our church. The grass is mowed, the bushes are trimmed, the floors are vacuumed, and it's all thanks to folks who care about the beauty of our physical plant.
Over the past few weeks, and continuing through the next three weeks, we've been taking a look at what it means to be the church. We've found that the church is not a brick and mortar structure, but that it's the collection of God's people joined together for worship, community, and service. Last week, we looked at the words of Paul to the Ephesians in 2:19-22
19 So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, 20 built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone, 21 in whom the whole structure, being joined together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord. 22 In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit.
I love the metaphor that Paul uses to describe the church when he says that we "grow into a holy temple in the Lord". What is the church like? It's like a building set aside for the presence of the Lord. From everything that we know about the temple in Jerusalem from Solomon's building through the efforts at restoration carried on by others, it was a beautiful building. We have meeting houses and auditoriums, but the temple was God's house.
If we had a building with no other purpose than to glorify God and to bring people nearer His presence, wouldn't we want it to be a beautiful place? Paul says that we are that building, "a dwelling place for God by the Spirit". How can the church be beautiful, not just in its physical structure, but in the activities of its people? My suspicion is that we are most beautiful when we best fulfill our purpose of glorifying God and bringing others into contact with Him. I believe that the church is beautiful when loving hands comfort a crying child in a nursery. I believe that the church is beautiful when a believer shares in the compassion of Christ by meeting the physical needs of his neighbor. I believe that the church is beautiful when a teenager finds out that there is an adult that will listen and doesn't brush aside their hurts and anguish. I believe that the church is beautiful when brothers and sisters in Christ gather and say, "We'll see you again soon" to a friend who is saying goodbye to this life. The church is beautiful when a Sunday School teacher tells children about God's unfailing love towards His people through the stories of men and women like Joseph, Daniel, Rahab, and Nehemiah. The church is beautiful when one of its members tells a coworker about the hope that he has in Christ. The church is beautiful when we celebrate the birth of a new little one that we will nourish and raise in the knowledge of the Lord. The church is beautiful when we celebrate new life in Christ as we watch a believer unite with us through the waters of baptism. The church is beautiful when a man and woman unite their lives in holy matrimony. The church is beautiful when we sit down together with the bread and the cup and we "do this, in remembrance of me".
There are so many ways that God's temple displays a beauty that will point to its true source. What about you, church? Is God's beauty on display in you? What part do you play as a part of His temple, the dwelling place for His spirit? That's the question I'm asking myself today.
It was a good weekend here on N. Wintzell. Our Sunday services were blessed, and I want to thank the folks who took the time to come out and share in them. Later on this week, I hope to share a few thoughts in regards to those services, but for the time being, I'd like to take a moment and move from the realm of the sublime to that of the ridiculous as I reflect on my experience Saturday at the Mobile Flea Market.
We spent a good part of Saturday afternoon with my in-laws, and as always we had a good time enjoying each other's company. In the midst of our time together, we made the decision to visit the flea market on Schillinger Road. Prior to Saturday, I had only made one trip to the flea market, and that trip left quite an impression on me. In spite of my earlier experience, I went this time and had a blast. I overcame my native impulse to avoid the flea market, and I'm glad that I did. There's an awful lot to do and see there and, as an observer of the human scene, I feel compelled to share a few observations from my time at the flea market.
1) The name flea just sounds odd. I think that's at the base of my long term flea market avoidance. In my world, fleas are nasty bugs that hitch a ride on pets. Putting flea onto the name of your market doesn't seem like the best possible strategy for attracting business. According to Wikipedia (and if you can't trust strangers on the Internet, who can you trust, really?), the origins of the term are disputed. The name may refer to the activity of the folks involved in the sale, the quality of the goods (ok, so neither of these pieces of information are encouraging me at all), or it may come from the name of the Vallie Market of Manhattan. You can find out more about flea markets here.
2) There are no pretensions at the flea market. If there is any place in Mobile County where you can come as you are and feel welcomed and at home, it's the flea market.
3) If you ever need to sell something with absolutely zero perceived value to anyone that you know, take it to the flea market and it will probably sell within minutes. Flea market vendors, I'd like to take a moment and salute you for the finest collection of nearly useless items in the world. I can't tell you how many things that I saw people buying that made me think, "nobody could really want that". You need a copy of The Carpenters 1970 LP Close to You? You'll find it at the flea market. You need 9 Hellmann's mayonnaise jars from 1983? Flea market. Pigeons? Flea market. The flea market was your one-stop shopping destination long before Super Wal-Mart came to our area.
4) Apparently there are still elementary school-aged children in Mobile County with rockin' mullets. Congratulations, young men (and women) on having parents who aren't afraid to let their kids wear the greatest hairstyle of all time. I saw a 7 year-old at the flea market with a haircut that looked something like this:
Here's lookin' at you rockin' kid.
There were many other examples of extreme parenting on display at the flea market. Another personal favorite was the 2 year-old drinking Coca-Cola from the bottle. The baby bottle, not the glass kind.
5)Kudos to the flea market for having the finest selection of foods available on any given Saturday in Mobile. There are so many foods that I thought I could only get in the Fall when the fair rolls into town. Imagine my surprise when I saw the golden, buttery goodness of roasted corn being sold near the entrance! There are some food items out there that I just can't ever pass up, and the roasted corn fits that description. Unfortunately, I had to pass it up. But beware corn, I know where you live the other 51 weeks out of the year now.
6) The flea market is a great place to go to find a pet. Here's a quick list of the animals that I saw for sale: dogs, cats, pigeons, ducks, chickens, rabbits, hamsters, geese, goats, and pot-bellied pigs. The flea market is a particularly good place to find a pet if you want your pet to be a pit bull. I didn't know there were that many pit bulls in the entirety of the southeast. I like dogs ok, I guess, and I certainly have no problem with anybody having a pit bull as a pet, as I know that they can be fine dogs. That having been said, I've never sat down and thought, "I'd like to get a dog for the family, something the kids can play with. Let's see... we could get a golden retriever, or maybe a lab. What about a small dog, like a dachshund or a chihuahua. I've got it! Let's get a pit bull!" Pit bull salespeople of the flea market, best of luck selling in the most competitive market in the entirety of the bazaar.
7) I'm definitely going back. I'm not sure exactly what I need, but I know where to find it!
OK, so I'm not talking about the classic 80's sitcom featuring Michael J. Fox as the inimitable Alex P. Keaton. Although, it would be really cool if I were...
Family. It conjures up a lot of different images for each of us. For some of us, family is overwhelmingly positive and for some of us, family is a painful reminder of the difficulties that have plagued our own relationships. I'm thankful for my family, both immediate and extended, because my family has been great. The past few months have been an adventure for our family. As most of you probably know (since all five of my readers are members of our family) Suzanne and I moved away from Mobile and left our families behind to go to Wetumpka just over four years ago. After our first year, we received some exciting news. Suzanne's sister and her family would be moving just down the road from us to Prattville. After a year of separation, one portion of the Hughes clan would be reunited.
And boy, were we ever united. For the first five months, our families shared our home. It had it's headaches, but we all made it work and we enjoyed the opportunity to have family members close by. Now here we are three years later, and not only have we returned to the Bay area, but the rest of our family has returned as well. Suzanne's sister and her family were only three weeks behind us in moving to Daphne, and now all of us are reunited. Which leads up to the story of my day Saturday. Moving day came, and I agreed to join my brother-in-law's brother and cousin in driving a moving truck to Prattville to help move them to Daphne. In fact, I was glad to help. One of the great blessings of family is that they've been there for us as much as we've been there for them. Here's a quick breakdown of the day's events.
4:00am- Wake up. Remember why I never wake up this early. Stand in the shower, praying that scalding water will wake me up. 4:45am- Depart for Grand Bay to meet the rest of the ace moving crew. 5:00am- Depart Grand Bay. Must stop at McDonald's. Coffee and McMuffin help with the wakeup process. 5:15am- Coffee works its magic. All men agree that we can speak to each other with coffee in our system. 6:00am- Moving truck is picked up and we're en route to Prattville. 9:00am- Arrive in Prattville and begin packing up. 9:01am- Analyze situation, and thank God that someone had the foresight to hire two teenage boys to help with packing the truck. 10:00am- Moving team decides that two trucks are in order. Call [name redacted]* truck rental company, and get a great rate on a [name redacted] moving truck, right here in Prattville. 10:30am- Arrive at the offices for [name redacted] truck rental (which happens to be in a gas station). Here, we are informed that the truck rental portion of the business is closed, as they have no reservations for today. 10:31am- Inform attendant that we do, in fact, have a reservation. Attendant calls manager of [name redacted] rental company. Manager informs attendant that they don't have any 24' moving trucks available for rent. 10:32am- Look out of window, see 24' moving truck. 10:33am- Call [name redacted] truck rentals and explain situation. They change our reservation and send us on to Montgomery. 11:00am- Arrive at Montgomery office for [name redacted] truck rental company, only to find out that (you guessed it) they didn't have a truck that size, as someone was on their way to pick up the one parked out front. This attendant was nice enough to call ahead for us to another office down the road. 11:15am- Arrive at second Montgomery office for [name redacted] truck rental company. Good news: they have a truck. Bad news: it doesn't have a functional air conditioner. The attendant informs us that he will be able to get us a great rate due to our inconvenience and the problem with the truck. 11:20am- After a few minutes on hold with customer service, I'm offered a major discount: $11.34. The conversation went something like this:
Phone rep: I'm terribly sorry for your inconvenience Mr. Landry. [name redacted] truck rental cares about our customers and we want to take care of you. For your troubles, we would like to offer you the low rate of $173.12. Me: That's eleven bucks. Are you serious? Phone rep: Yes, Mr. Landry, we believe that is quite generous. Me: So, I've spent nearly two hours driving around town due to your company's failure to deliver any truck. I finally find one, with no air, and the best you can do is eleven bucks? Phone rep: Yes, sir. Me: You're kidding me, right? Phone rep: No, sir. Me: Seriously? Phone rep: *hangs up*
11:50am- Depart for Prattville in aforementioned truck. 12:30pm- Arrive in Prattville. Overhear team member on the phone: "We'll definitely be there by six". Cringe, knowing that this is the kiss of death. 2:30pm- Almost finished, and feeling confident in our ability to reach Daphne by six. 2:31pm- The Deluge. Scramble to get furniture out of the yard. 3:30pm- Finish loading trucks, depart for Daphne. 3:35pm- Remember that we need diesel. 4:00pm- Leave Prattville. Starter won't work. Pause. Consider situation. Enter stage 3 of Kubler-Ross model for grief and loss: bargaining. "If you just let me get out of Prattville, I'll do anything God." 4:10pm- Starter fires. Depart Prattville. 6:45pm- Arrive in Daphne. "Hey, did you know that one of your headlights is out on that truck?" Eat supper. Begin unloading process. 7:15pm- Note: "Wow, they've got a two-story house. I wonder how we're going to get all this furniture up those stairs?" 10:30pm- The first truck is finished. Time for a break. 10:40pm- Prepare to move [name redacted] moving truck out of neighbor's driveway and into unloading area. Starter won't work. 10:45pm- Much head scratching. Starter still won't work. Consternation. Weeping. Wailing and gnashing of teeth ensue. 11:00pm- Contact [name redacted] trucking company and find out, there's really not a lot they can do about it. Shocking, really. Large pieces of furniture must be carried across the yard. 12:15am- Finish unloading truck. Huzzahs all about. 12:30am- Depart for Mobile. 12:45am- Drop off fully functional moving truck. 1:15am- Arrive in Grand Bay 1:30am- Home
*-Our legal team here at A View from N. Wintzell informed us we should not use the actual name of the rental truck company. So, I'll just tell you that it's a well-known rental company whose name starts with a B and ends with an -udget.
So, after a hard day of work, we got them moved in. What was the point of all this? The point is that we're family, and that's what family does. I never questioned whether or not I would be a part of the move (OK, maybe just once or twice during the Saga of the [name redacted] Moving Truck) because we're family. We take care of each other. Family goes above and beyond the call of duty. Family sees the needs that we have and we do everything in our power to take care of them.
We'll do anything for our families. But what about our church families? In Galatians 6, Paul calls the community of believers "the household of faith". As a church, we're a household, a family. How do you treat your family? Do you view your brothers and sisters in Christ in that way? What would you be willing to do to meet their needs? What sacrifices would you be willing to make to ensure their well-being? Will you go visit your family this Sunday? Will you walk beside them in the activities of daily life? Will you pray for them and encourage them? We've got a different kind of family, but one that is no less important than our physical family.
As I sit in my office here at First Baptist Church (located at 13500 N. Wintzell)I'm hoping to expand the blog and its role in my ministry. My initial purpose in writing the blog has been to give folks in our community an opportunity to know what is going on in our church family. If you have items of interest that you think people ought to be aware of, please let me know, and I'd love to pass them along.
I'm now three weeks into my blogging career, and as of this writing, I've had just over 1,200 page loads. I'd like to thank all of you who've taken the opportunity to read A View from N. Wintzell. I'm blessed to have 5 or 6 regular readers now, but special thanks go out to my parents, who have reloaded the page 1,180 times.
Tonight at First Baptist, we'll join together for prayer meeting and Bible study. If you're in the area, we'd love to have you come out as we enjoy the fellowship with God and each other. It's a time where we share our needs and concerns, and we take them to God in prayer. Our meeting is casual. We'll be back in the Fellowship Hall, with a couple of pots of coffee on. As I understand it, drinking coffee during our prayer meeting makes us very cutting-edge in terms of our ministry. Who knew?
After our prayer time, we will take a few minutes to open God's Word and continue our study through the book of James. I've enjoyed studying this book with our folks so far, because James cuts through one of the major disconnects between the Church and the world. James defines faith in a little different way than most of us do. Like most of us, I tend to think of my faith in terms of the things that I believe. My inclination is to limit faith to a tidy collection of orthodox beliefs. As long as my beliefs are true, my faith must be strong, right?
According to James, mature faith is marked by action. Affirming a proper set of tenets is insufficient; true faith is fleshed out as we live our beliefs. Tonight, we're going to take a look at James 2:14-26. Come on out and join us!
3 Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, the fruit of the womb a reward. 4 Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one’s youth. 5 Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate.
Psalm 127:3-5
As many of you know by now, Suzanne and I are expecting our third child. Today was an exciting day for our family as we found out that this child we are waiting and praying expectantly for is a little girl. We plan to name her Amelia Kay. Those of you who are parents know the joy that comes with the addition of a new life to your family, and we are counting down the days until she joins us.
Parenthood has been quite an adventure for Suzanne and I. Many of you out there know us and that everything in our relationship has been fast-paced. We went on our first date two weeks after we met. Since then, we've been together every single day that I wasn't travelling with the church. Not long after our first date, we confessed our love to each other. Two months after the first date, we were engaged. Six months later, we were married.
Just as we began our new life together, I got a surprise in the form of a text message from my lovely new bride. I was sitting in a classroom in Pensacola when I got this message: "You need to call me". Within minutes I had called and received the shock of my life. After two months of married life, I found out I was going to be a dad. Some nine months later, God brought a precious little girl into our life. Maggie Elizabeth has her father's eyes and shares more than a few of my eccentricities. Some days I feel like I'm looking into a mirror at a four year-old female me. She adores her mother and wants to do everything she can to be like Suzanne. Her mother is helping to shape her ideals of femininity and beauty. Her daddy is just that, a big bear that you can make melt when necessary. Maggie, you're the pride of my youth. Each step that I've watched you take has made my heart swell, knowing that you are my daughter. Thank you for the love and tenderness that you've brought into my life.
After Maggie's birth, time moved forward and life changed. I finished seminary and our little family packed up and left home for the first time ever. God brought us to a charming town on the banks of the Coosa River, and we got to call Wetumpka home for four wonderful years. During that time, our family grew. One summer's day I was in my office when Suzanne called to tell me to come outside and see her, that she had something for me. She handed me a card, and inside I received the news that I was going to be a dad again. We waited and prayed, and when the time came, I found out that we would be embarking on a new adventure. When the ultrasound tech looked at me and said, "Mr. Landry, it's a boy", I knew that my life would change again. He decided to come see us a little early, so during the middle of Dr. Troglen's second point of the 8:30 service on February 24, I hustled Suzanne out of church and on to Baptist-East. My son was here. Joseph Hughes, you are your mother's joy, but you carry with you the strength of my spirit. Though you are only a child now, I pray for you and dream of the man that you may become. While you share your mother's brown eyes and smile, I see a little bit of me when I laugh with you. When we wrestle in the floor, read a book, play ball, or just enjoy time with each other, I know that you're watching me. I hope that I'm able to give you some of the strength that the men in my life have passed on to me. Joseph, follow the path that God lays before you, and know that standing behind you is a man who will support you every step of the way.
We thought two would probably be it, but we were never quite ready to close that door. We waited, and now here we are. God has called us home again. We're back in the Bayou with grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins, and couldn't be happier to be here. I'm back in school and starting in a new season of ministry. Amelia Kay, I don't have any idea what the future holds for you. I don't know how we'll relate or what kind of personality you'll have or anything else. But I do know this one thing: Your mommy and daddy love you very much. When your mom delivered the news to me (via text message, of course)"Do you want your next child to be a boy or a girl?" I knew that I would love you. When we saw the first pictures of you via ultrasound and heard your heartbeat, it made my heart skip one. Today, when I saw your two little feet, and you waved at us with one of your tiny hands, I knew it. You are a special gift from God and your mom and I are going to do everything that we can to embrace you as the blessing and responsibility that we know you are. Amelia, we're counting the days. Don't come too soon, don't wait too late. We want you to be right on time. I've got plans for you. We've got episodes of Yo Gabba Gabba! to watch and tea parties to host. There's a horse on a carousel in a Magic Kingdom to ride. I can't wait to give you the hugs and kisses that every Daddy's Girl deserves. Until then, know that I'm waiting, watching, and praying.
The Summer of 2010 has held a new adventure for me and my family. As I spoke with a friend last week, I came to the realization that this will be the first summer since 1993 that I will not be participating in a youth trip. In 1994, I participated in my first ever youth camp in Pass Christian, Mississippi. I had a blast and couldn't wait for next year's trip. Over the next 16 years, I would change roles from student, to volunteer, to leader. During that time, I've participated in 14 youth camps, 12 national mission trips, 10 national mission trips, 2 graduate celebration trips, 7 ski trips, and 6 winter retreats. I'm thankful for every one them.
When I made the transition from student to volunteer, I learned an important lesson. It takes a lot of hard work to take a group of teenagers anywhere. For some reason, they want to be fed. My first volunteer job required me to fry bacon for breakfast one morning for our students at camp in Gulf Shores. The bacon wasn't a complete catastrophe, let's just say that it was extra crispy. These teenagers don't just need food, though. They also require supervision. On the same trip, my friends and I were put in charge of a bunkhouse full of 7th and 8th grade boys. At the end of the week, we had all survived, and our group of junior chaperones weren't even taken into custody! I didn't know it at the time, but God was doing something in me that would change the entire direction of my life.
I fell in love with those trips. I saw what God was doing in my life, and in the lives of the students that were involved in the camps, retreats, and mission trips. Through those experiences, I began to understand that He was calling me to serve Him in ministry. I got the opportunity to take my first group of students to camp in the summer of 2002. As it happened, I got to return to the same location in Pass Christian for a Centrifuge camp. I learned new lessons. The transition from volunteer to leader is almost as drastic as the transition from student to volunteer. There were details to worry about, but through the stress of planning and preparing, something important happened.
Over the course of that week, my students got to know me in a new and different way. We spent time together. Lots of time together. Ministry happened. I watched God move and work in my life, just as He was at work in the lives of my students. We grew closer together and our time at camp served as a springboard for the next year. It was hard work. It was tiring. It was good.
So, after countless miles of highway, late night pizza runs, and share times, I've got a summer off. Last week, the students at First Baptist Wetumpka spent a week on mission in Brunswick, Georgia with World Changers. I've already heard some good reports about the week. I knew that y'all would do a great job, and I'm proud to hear that you did. All of those camps, retreats, and mission trips have an important place in my heart, because I've grown through the lessons learned as a student, a volunteer, and a leader. So, here's my list of some of the most important lessons learned from those trips.
1) If you take teenagers anywhere, romance will ensue. Witness the courtship ritual of the teenage human: Here we see two males of the species, jockeying for position alongside a female. Their group of three is waiting in line for the Scream Machine, but alas, the seat only holds two! Watch the complex interplay as each places himself in the best possible spot to share seats with the object of his affection. Such behaviors include humor (telling jokes and/or stories that really aren't that funny), scent(in the form of copious amounts of Axe body spray), and feats of strength (In some cases, the male may not have any large object to pick up. In these instances, the male mostly stretches and flexes a lot). The winner of this competition may eventually move on to more advanced displays of courtship, such as buying the female a drink, becoming a constant ride partner, or buying matching souvenirs. At this point, the young couple will immediately declare their undying affection for each other, which will remain undying until one week after the trip.
2) There's a great divide between church bus youth groups and church van youth groups. Having taken groups in both vehicles, I applaud you church van groups. There's a special camraderie that develops amongst students after 12 hours of being stuffed into a church van with a semi-functional air conditioner and radio. Groups that have to suffer through trips on luxury charter buses with DVD players and bathrooms miss out on the experience of shared misery that is the van trip.
3) After you reach a certain age, an adult cannot subsist on fast food for more than a day or two. I used to laugh at adult chaperones that begged for green vegetables and fiber during a trip. Now I'm one of them. I think I'll celebrate by going home and yelling at some kids who are thinking about playing on my lawn.
4) The most complex social relationships in the entirety of humanity take place between a group of teenage girls of roughly the same age. Boy behavior is easy to understand. The machinations of the teen girl social order a wonder (terror?) to behold. When I realize that I'm married to a woman who successfully navigated such a structure to become an emotionally healthy adult, I filled with awe. (or terror?)
5) Certain songs are just meant for road trips. It's just not a youth trip without 43 kids singing Livin' on a Prayer at 4 a.m. On a trip to Chicago one summer, we heard Hey There, Delilah no less than 412 times.
6) There's value in taking time away from our regularly scheduled programming to spend focusing on our spiritual lives. I'm always amazed at how the most difficult student can have his priorities radically altered when he's taken away from his cell phone, XBox, laptop, and tv.
7) I've never been a part of a mission trip where I wasn't blessed more by the people that I served than I was able to bless them. In 2003, I took part in a mission trip to Tokyo, Japan. Part of our task was to work with the local churches on the ground and to encourage their members. As college students, we met with other students at one church and had a time of prayer together. I'll never forget the experience of joining with three Japanese students and praying for the needs in their lives. After I prayed for them, they asked me about the needs in my life. I can still remember the warm, firm touch of gentle hands holding mine and ministering God's love as they embraced me. They prayed passionately and with a power that I didn't see in my own infrequent hours of prayer. As the tears flowed, I knew that I had been in the presence of three people who knew God.
8) It's not about the location. I've taken groups to some of the most "fun" places I could imagine and had my folks complain about the circumstances the entirety of the trip. Conversely, I've taken the same groups to places that I thought would be completely miserable and seen them flourish.
9) After a long, hot day there are some simple pleasures that acquire a value beyond price. In 2008, our students were in South Lyon, Michigan serving alongside First Baptist Church. Most evenings, we would walk a few blocks down to the local ice cream shop and enjoy some time fellowshipping with each other and some of the folks we had met during our time at the church. On those late afternoons, the ice cream went from a cheap snack to a sublime treat.
10) Finally, the greatest lessons that I learned in all of the trips that I participated in is that God created us for relationship with Him and with each other. I don't remember many of the sermons that were preached or the songs that were sang. I can't remember all of the rides that we rode or the projects that we completed, but each memory that I have of each camp, each retreat, and each mission trip is punctuated by the memory of the folks who made it special. To all of the men and women who sacrificed their time, money, and energy to help take me on one of those trips, thank you. You've influenced me in a way that you can't begin to imagine. As I walked to the pulpit last night, I saw a familiar face walk into the auditorium. It was a dear friend who I first got to know when he was a chaperone and I was one of those knucklehead teenagers. He's been a source of encouragement to me since those days, and represents many who poured their life into mine. To the students that I had the joy to serve, thank you. Many of you are young adults now and are serving to minister to others, while others of you are preparing for the 8th grade. You're the ones who made the trips so special. This summer won't be the same, but I'm thankful that I can look back on the times that I've had both as a student and a leader, and smile for the memories shared with all of you.
If you've got a favorite memory from one of your own youth trips, share it in the comments section. Also, check out the video embedded below from our 2007 mission trip to Chicago.
If you're reading my blog (both of you. Hey Aunt Sue!) You probably understand a little bit about the boat in the picture. For those of you who are inlanders, it's a boat. For those of you a little closer to the coast, it's a shrimp boat. For those of you who've been around this town for quite a while, it's the Apache Chief built right here in Bayou La Batre at Landry Boatworks. As most of you know, Landry Boatworks has a special place in my heart and life, as it is my family's business. At some point after World War II, my grandfather and two of his brothers went into the boat building business. Over the years, Landry boats have made it to many distant points of the globe, and I'm proud of the work that my family has been a part of. Uncle Roy, Uncle Shine, and Papa Joe had an incredible career as businessmen in this town, and I'm thankful for the impact that they've had on our church and community.
The good news is that the work is continuing. The trawler industry is certainly not what it once was, but a group of men is still hard at work continuing the tradition of wood boat craftsmanship at Landry Boatworks. My dad, Rena Landry and his brother Darrell Landry are hanging on and working hard to keep things going, as the old yard nears its 65th (I think) year of operation. So, imagine my surprise when my cousin linked to a Facebook post with pictures and a brief description of the work going on at the shipyard. You can check that out here. Seeing the work that they're doing gives me an awful lot of pride. It's proof to me of what a couple of guys can do with a lot of grit, determination, ingenuity, and a little bit of luck.
So, what about me? Why am I not continuing in the family business? That's a good question, and one that God answered by calling me to ministry. It's good that he did that, because its entirely possible that I was the worst employee in the history of Landry Boatworks. No, really. I'm not trying to be humble. Thankfully, they didn't feel like they could fire me, since I was family and all. While I may not have made a great contribution to the ongoing work at the shipyard, it made a great contribution to me. Here are a few things that I've learned through my association with Landry Boatworks.
1) Coffee is always good. There's never a bad time to have a cup of coffee. Even if it's 110 degrees outside, you can count on the guys at the shipyard to be enjoying a cup of coffee. It's probably been sitting on the warmer for three or four hours, but that just gives it character.
2) It's hard to impress cute girls when you've been scraping barnacles all day. If any of you have never had the opportunity to scrape barnacles for a living, I can't recommend it highly enough. When you walk into a store after work with a combination of broken shell and a substance that's highly reminiscent of orange snot in your hair, there's no way you can look cool. Also, when you go on a date later that evening, you must be careful to scrub away all of the Eau du Barnacle. One whiff of those guys and your night out is done.
3) Weight room muscles aren't good for much in the real world. As a teenager, I was pretty proud of all the muscles I'd developed in the weight room working out for football. After my first few weeks, I discovered that their were a couple of 50 year-old guys that weighed 130 lbs. soaking wet who could lift double what I could. Over time, I learned that there was a technique involved, a "right way" to do things. This lesson also taught me that the mind is an important muscle to develop.
4) God gifts fathers with a level of patience for their children that can only come from Him.
5) There are some instructions that I was given so many times that they haunt me to this day. If you ever see me painting anything, you may hear me muttering under my breath, "Put some paint on that brush, son. Don't leave any holidays now." Or, when I have to move something, "Come on now, you gotta want to!" Good words for any man to live by.
6) Hard work is its own reward. Or some variation of that. There's a certain satisfaction that comes with a job well done. But before you get too comfortable there's another boat behind that one, so we need to get ready to haul it up...
7) Family resemblances are unmistakable. A year or two, I saw a friend of the family that hadn't seen me since I was a kid. The conversation went something like this: Me: Sir, you may not remember me... Him: Son, with that big Landry jaw, I'd know who you belonged to from a mile away.
8) Be good to people. Over the years many of the men in our community worked for the shipyard, and when they find out who I am, they make sure to mention it. So far, that's been a good thing.
9) You can do the job with the tools you have if your level of determination is sufficient. No job at Landry Boatworks has ever been stopped because the proper tool was unavailable. I've watched the New Yankee Workshop on PBS and learned that with $75,000 worth of tools in your shed you can make a number of nice items to decorate your home, such as a shoe rack or maybe a nice entertainment center. Whoopty-doo, we built a fleet of shrimp boats with a few ball-peen hammers, a hand plane, down-ingenuity, and guts. Anything that can't be fixed with a ball-peen hammer can't be fixed.
10) When the seagulls fly overhead, move.
If you'd like to find out more about Landry Boatworks check out their website at www.landryboats.com and this list of boats that they've built over the years here courtesy of shipbuildinghistory.com
I don't have any great insights today, but I do have a confession: I love the Muppets. Over the past year or so, the good folks at the Muppet Labs have been hard at work bringing us quality entertainment in the form of Youtube videos. So, imagine my pleasure at coming across this gem:
I guess we all have to have a few guilty pleasures, right? What about you? Share the darkest secrets of your inner nerd with us in the comments section. That's all for today, but look for more content here soon at A View from N. Wintzell.
Friday night was a big night for Suzanne and I, as we had the opportunity to do something that we don't do often enough. We went on a date. A real date. One that didn't include a stop at Wal-Mart or McDonald's. As most of you know by now, we've recently moved back to the area after spending the past four years in Wetumpka, Alabama. Our children have never had the experience of living so close to their grandparents, but they love it. (and I suspect that the grandparents don't mind it too bad, either) Friday night, the kids had already made plans to spend the night with my parents, and that left Suzanne and I the open door to do something together.
Suzanne has been craving Mexican food throughout the entirety of this pregnancy (Juan Pablo Landry? It could work) and so we made the decision to go eat at the Hacienda San Miguel on Schillinger Road. We had a good time and the food was excellent, but the real shocker came when Suzanne mentioned a particular movie that is out now and that she had heard that it was really funny. I suggested that we go catch it at the Wynnsong across the street and she agreed. None of this may sound out of the ordinary to most of you reading this, but try to understand that we're not big movie-goers. We've been married for nearly six years, and this was our third movie. Prior to Friday night, the last movie that the two of us saw on a date in a theater was The Notebook. Thankfully, this time around we found something that I could enjoy as well. We saw Grown Ups and it was pretty good. More importantly, I had a lot of fun spending the evening with my wife.
Prior to getting married, I heard a lot of good advice from wise people who told us to make each other a priority. They gave us advice about continuing to get to know each other, about spending time together, and growing in our relationship. At the time, all of those things sounded really easy, but I realize now how hard they really are to do. So, without further ado, here are some of my observations from our date.
1) Hacienda San Miguel has some of the most incredible guacamole that I've ever eaten in my entire life. I could have made a meal out of chips and guacamole. I do know what guacamole looks like. I still like it.
2) The cost of dating has increased a bit since I was a senior in high school. I didn't realize how out of touch I was on the cost of movies until I led a Bible study a while back and mentioned the high cost of going to the movies. The moment looked kind of like this:
Me: You know, it's crazy. You go to the movies and you spend your $5.75 to get in... Audience: *sitting in stunned silence* Me: What? Is it six bucks now? Audience Member: What kind of movie theater do you go to?
3) Adam Sandler, you'll always be Billy Madison to me. The movie was good, but this whole responsible adult thing that you've been shooting for since 2003 makes me a little queasy. Just be yourself, buddy.
4) Movie projection technology has increased significantly over the past 6 years. I had no idea how clear the picture was going to be. Consider me impressed.
5) Movie projection and sound may have changed, but movie theaters have not. Parents, is it really a good idea to drop your 13 year-old daughter off at the movie theater and tell her to call you when the movie is over? No, seriously, I want to know. I've officially crossed over into old-people world on this one. Thankfully, they were all there to see the new Twilight movie. All of their mothers had already seen it at the midnight premiere, I suppose.
6) Dating may be hard work, but it's definitely worth it. Suzanne and I spend time together, it's just that the time we spend is usually either spent with our kids (certainly not a bad thing) or trying to recover from whatever we've been busy doing all week. If you are making plans to date your spouse, find something to do. I've read articles that include these long lists of questions that you should ask each other, but I'm not there. Spend time together doing something.
7) I'm a blessed husband. When God brought Suzanne into my life, He gave me far more than I deserve. For those of you who've seen us together, you know that she's the beautiful petite brunette and I'm the guy with the beard. It still amazes me that she loves me, and I couldn't have asked God for a better helpmate. Suzanne, I love you. So, if it's ok with you, I was thinking, maybe, y'know, if you wanted to, we could go out again this weekend... I mean, if that's ok with you. Because if you don't want to, I'd be totally cool with that.
Happy 5th of July! With the 4th falling on a Sunday, many folks are getting the opportunity to celebrate a long weekend of independence, so I don't feel too bad about taking this long to get another post up. Good news! I have a reader. I found out that my wife's Aunt Sue is a regular reader of the blog. That makes two of us. With this rate of growth in my readership, I should reach literally dozens of people over the next few years. In all seriousness, thanks to those of you who have taken the time to check out my blog. I hope you have had as much fun reading it as I've had writing it.
So, without further ado, my reflections on the 5th of July:
1) It's hard to preach a 4th of July sermon. I thought about entitling my first 4th of July sermon America: Love It or Leave It but then I thought better of it. I knew that if I had, some bold critic (I'm not sure who these critics are, but I'm sure they're out there) would have dismissed by sermon as the jingoistic rantings of an unsophisticated nativist. (For all of my readers out there that are unfamiliar with jingoism, it's a negative term used by many to describe people who kind of like the US) After abandoning America: Love It or Leave It I settled in on a nice sermon from the Psalms.
2) I'm not sure when Independence Day became Eat Until You Can No Longer Stand Upright and Your Arteries Now Flow With Pork Fat and Coca-Cola Day (referred to from here as EUYCNLSU&YANFWPF&CCD) but I wholeheartedly endorse it! I've found that I celebrate my freedom more vigorously on a full stomach.
3) My brother-in-law noted that we were probably the only people in the US of A not eating hamburgers and hotdogs on the 4th. A couple of thoughts: A) Since hamburgers and hotdogs are European in origin, and we're celebrating the day we told those guys we weren't so interested in what they thought about how we handled our business around here, should we really be eating them? B) My family has brought the EUYCNLSU&YANFWPF&CCD cookout to a new level. We've moved past hamburgers and hotdogs to embrace brisket, ribs, and bacon-wrapped chicken. You see, you take this nutritious, low-fat thing like a boneless, skinless chicken breast, and you make it taste good by soaking it in a tasty marinade and covering it in bacon.
4) I miss my Grandpa Driskell. All holidays were big days for him, but the 4th was a high holy day of sorts. He spent weeks getting ready, and by the time it got there, we had no less than a dozen watermelons and canteloupes that he had bought to find just the right one. He taught us a lot of important lessons on the 4th. A) There is no piece of meat that can't be improved by adding a little bit more wood smoke. B) The only part of the watermelon that should be eaten is the heart. We're Americans by birth and South Mobile Countians by God's good grace and as such have access to the best and cheapest watermelons around. We don't have to eat bad watermelon if we don't want to, thank you very much. C) The aforementioned watermelon should not be eaten with salt. Ever. We had a great day, but I can't get together with our family without thinking about him. I've been blessed by the impact that he made on my life.
5) I have no bathing suit. I only owned one bathing suit, and it got lost in the shuffle from Wetumpka to Bayou La Batre. I searched Sunday after church for one, or for some pair of shorts that would fit the bill, to no avail.
6) The lack of a bathing suit meant that I could follow up the first round of feasting on EUYCNLSU&YANFWPF&CCD with a vigorous nap.
7) I'm thankful to God for the blessings of liberty and I'm praying for the safety and spiritual well-being of the men and women who have and are sacrificing to insure their benefits for me and my children. In the course of my life I've seen my view of those folks change. When I was a kid, those heroes were grown-ups who performed the kinds of acts of selflessness that grown-ups are supposed to perform. When I was an older teenager, they were my friends and a source of wonder as I saw their willingness to answer the call to serve our country. Now that I'm a bit older, I see them through a fresh lens. Now some of those men and women are former students, and I see them as kids and I stand by proudly as they give so that a guy like me can sit here in the comfort of my office and type this blog.
8) I'm proud of my country. It's not perfect, but it's a heck of a lot better than anywhere else I've ever been. We've got problems, to be sure, but our nation still stands for an awful lot of good things. God, grant us the vision and the will to serve you as beacon of liberty as long as you leave us here.
So, I had to go to the dermatologist this week. I've developed a troubling spot on the right side of my nose, and had several people suggest to me that I see a dermatologist to get it checked out. I have a dermatologist, who I haven't seen since 1998. We had a long relationship, a good relationship, built on trust and a $20.00 copay every six weeks. This dermatologist helped me through the worst of the dreaded teen disease called acne. Twelve years later I attempted to contact this doctor to setup an appointment, and the receptionist promptly replied that I was no longer an existing patient. I was in the system. She knew when my last visit was. I was no longer his patient. 5 years of regular visits and this how you treat me? I really thought we had something special Doc...
Alas, since this visit wasn't to be, the receptionist got me an appointment with another member of the group. Yesterday, I went on my merry way, not to have my pimples popped, but to have my nose examined. The folks who looked at my nose informed me that what I had was one of those precancerous spots that needed to be frozen off. In my world anything that includes the c-word is more than a little scary. The doctor took one look at my nose and pronounced my condition as a compacted keratinous lesion. He also informed me that it was no big deal. I informed him it was not on his nose.
The nurse quickly arrived with a bottle of what I will term "freezy stuff" and burned a hole in my nose. No, I'm not being dramatic. 95% of my face looks like it's normal self, while I have an oval shaped spot on my nose that looks like it's a Chernobyl victim. All in all, not too bad. At the end of this month, I'll enter the last year of my 20's and will be staring down the barrel of 30. My dermatologist appointments are no longer friendly visits with admonitions to wash my face regularly and to use a topical astringent. Alas for youth!
