WASTING FOOD

I hadn’t anticipated the debate going on in the comments section about “Are They Really Thankful.” The posting is about perfectly good food being thrown away because it was past the expiration date. I consider that a lack of gratitude and a waste of perfectly good food.

I have debated getting back into this discussion with another post, but find the waste of food in America to be astounding. I agree that there are unsafe foods both packaged and unpackaged. But I also believe that one of the worse things foisted upon the public by the government is the “use by” date on packages. Most Americans see that as the time to get rid of it. You are free to take this with a grain of salt. I am not trained in this field at all. Everything I have to say is opinion, but opinion from experience.

I depend upon the local Food Bank. Almost everything that comes into the Food bank is past its “use by” date. The only thing that isn’t past due is fresh produce brought in by farmer and growers. What they bring is usually the gleanings. The items left over after the best has gone to market. My Food Bank had received apples, potatoes, onions, pears and even bananas – once. Nearly all have spots and bruises. I grew up in a home that had a very large backyard garden. It would be called an organic garden today. It was fertilized with chicken manure. There were no sprays – at least none that dad every used. He just did what his father did – panted his garden and trusted God for the harvest. It was an ancient approach.

Nearly everything we harvested had something wrong – bruises, spots, and parts eaten by birds or wild rabbits. You often need chemicals to keep food looking perfect. My parents were never bothered by any of these blemishes. They simply cut off the bad parts and we ate what we had.

I do the same with things I get from the Food Bank, They get a great deal of food from local grocers, but it always comes to us when the law says they can no longer keep it on their shelves. It is always passed the “use by” date. Admittedly it is not always very much past that date. It depends on how long it has been stored before we get it. We get bread delivered to The Home from the Food Bank on Tuesdays. The “use by” date has passed. We pick up bread on Wednesdays from Oroweat. The due date has passed. I used to go to the outlets of bakeries to buy at a cheaper price what they called day old bread. It wasn’t all that unusual to see a little mold on some parts of the bread before it can all be used. I say, pick the mold off. The rest is good. Shocking isn’t it.

Back in the ancient of days when I taught in a Bible college in Canada, one student was the night manager at a local McDonalds. As part of closing he was required to throw everything away that had already been cooked. He was not to give it away – only throw it away. There were times he brought it back to give away to students. He could have lost his job for that act.

The homeless know the restaurants that throw food away and do what they can to dumpster dive for that food. To keep them from getting it most dumpsters are locked away from the public. Those establishments are required to throw it away rather than give it to someone who needs it. That is waste.

I have and will continue to eat many items that are passed their “use by” date. Bad food has a smell or a taste. That is the warning. not when some government agency has decided we should not eat it any longer.

I liked this quote from an article referred to me by Cartoon Character.

“British households throw away 8.3 million tons of food and drink a year, with an estimated five million tons of that amount still being perfectly edible. Every day, 1.3million unopened yogurt pots are dumped, as well as five million potatoes, a million loaves of bread, a million slices of ham, and 440,000 ready meals.”

I am not trying to sway anyone from his or her eating practice. I want to acknowledge the waste we create by law that only Food Banks are permitted to redistribute. If it is bad for Americans to eat, then why are we distributing it to the poor? It must be part of a plan to eliminate the poor. My days are number — but then whose isn’t.

THANKSGIVING DAY

I did not get sick from Resers frozen foods. In fact, I have had some of it twice more. I think there was some wasted food when some many women threw it out.

Thanksgiving afternoon I got in the car with my family and went to Seattle to spend the day with my son-in-laws family. I have been doing that for a number of years. It is easier and more fun for the grand kids. There were nine grand kids and things changed this year. The five oldest sat at a table and played games. It was reasonably calm and controlled. I loved that. The four youngest continued the tradition of running and screaming and bouncing all over the place. Grandma and grandpa have a basement that they have set up as a play area for the kids. Fortunately, they spent a great deal of time there.

My hearing is beginning to go and when there is a lot of noise and mass confusion I cannot focus on any conversation. I missed some of the discussion. I have had my hearing checked and there is some loss. They tried to sell me a miracle ear for $3,000 for each ear. After picking myself up off the floor the salesman (I think I am suppose to call him the technician) set me up with a credit card that specializes in somewhat lower payments. I was interested in what they would do. But when the card arrived, I had to pick myself up off the floor again. The interest was nearly 27%, highway robbery. The card I have has a significantly lower interest rate, but I am still paying off the debt I retired with and decided I would not add anything to that card until the old debt was paid off and I may not use it after that. It is going to be a while before tat bill is paid.

The meal was terrific as usual and somehow I managed to not over eat. I wanted some pumpkin pie but when we got around to pie, I chose apple pie instead. Go figure. It just looked too good and there will be a lot more pumpkin before the end of the season.

I sure debated about going to Seattle, as my back was still hurting. Fortunately it did not get any worse but when I got home I was completely wiped out. I am beginning to feel my age.

I was to set up for the art show on Saturday, but passed because of my back. I will do it on Tuesday. I look forward to the show and would love to have a sale or two. We will see what wills happen.

I need to get going on the two portrait orders, but first — a good nights sleep. See you later.

I will write tomorrow about the expiration date debate in the comments section. Very interesting.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING

ARE THEY REALLY THANKFUL?

I was trying to get out and loosen up my hip and back. I just walked the hall. It wasn’t too bad. I am working to keep things relaxed. How does work and relax fit in the same sentence? Duh!

On one of my little hikes I heard voices upstairs so hopped on the elevator to see what was happening (I can be nosey, I guess). I was thinking I might get a conversation going about thankfulness. That didn’t happen but I think I picked up a few items of thankfulness.

We each received Thanksgiving food baskets on Monday. Some were thankful to get them and others were thankful for the freedom to throw them away. The “use by” date is January 2010 on the frozen food provided by Reser’s. They provided frozen mashed potatoes, frozen stuffing and frozen gravy. Some residents were thankful that they could be horrified something like that would even be given to us poor starving people (not).

They were also thankful they could take their complaint to the coordinator from housing that made arrangements to deliver the food. They were thankful they could drive her to frustration and tears as she was the dispenser of the food here and therefore it was her fault and how dare she even think she could dump this old food on us, of all people. No one considered blaming the food bank, the storage facility or Reser’s or the economy or themselves for not donating. Our messenger was responsible and therefore should have been thankful she was being set straight. Not one person considered that the food might still is useable, nor did they try to find out. Not one person considered returning it to the food back so it could be given to someone who really needed it.

As I am writing you, I have the gravy and stuffing in the microwave. To the horror of many I plan to try it and see what it tastes like. If I am sick later – it probably wasn’t very good. If I don’t write before Monday, maybe I died from some kind of poisoning. I think it is worth a try. I used to eat dirt and that didn’t kill me.

The stuffing and Gravy is finished so I added some veggies to try it out. It all tastes pretty good. Of course, it is too early to see if I get sick. The stuffing is a little spicier than I like, but still good. But remember, I ate dirt so may not be the best judge.

The food group was especially thankful that we got a small chicken with some freezer burn. Never mind their yelling about where the turkey was even though the paper commented on the food bank shortage of food for atl east the past week. They also announced that fewer turkeys would be available. No matter! “Where is my turkey?”

A group of ten will be here with no other place to go. No one seemed to be thankful that they had the money to go and buy all fresh ingredients for their own little turkey feast. I spoke to one organizer this morning asking if I did not go to Seattle, could I join them. “Of course, there is plenty of food.” Later in our conversation it was mentioned that one person from our building wanted to invite her friend from the other building and was told, “No, we can’t feed everyone.” The one our resident wanted to invite eats like a bird.

Well, I now have one more thing for which to be thankful. I am thankful I can leave all these “thankful” people and go to Seattle. I pray my back is better.

I just finished eating everything and am thankful I got the food. I am grateful for a food bank and those who contribute to the food bank. I am also thankful for Reser’s donation. I’m sorry the “use by” date was so offensive. I need the help.

Praise God from whom all blessing flow. If you are able, you would bless me by contributing to your local food bank. It is needed now more than ever.

HAPPY THANKSGIVING

I plan to spend Turkey Day with my son-in-law’s family. I have done that nearly every year since my wife passed away. They have been exceptionally kind to me all these years. I also spent Christmas with them. This developed after a few holidays were spent in Oregon with just the three of us: Rhonda, Chris (her husband) and me. Boring! Holiday celebrations are best enjoyed with a larger group,

I enjoy sitting down and considering many of the things for which I am thankful, so let me share some of those with you this year.

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good! His faithful love endures forever.

I love where I live. I am thankful I am here. The Home is beautiful and the setting is terrific. Also I am close to family – about 20 minutes.

I am thankful for most of the people In The Home. Of course, there are a few whose necks I would like to break, but they gave life to this blog. One of the exceptional people is my upstairs neighbor. My back is bothering me today and I am struggling to walk. She went out in this cold miserable weather to get my insulin. I wouldn’t have asked, but she said she was going out anyway. She lied. She wasn’t going outside at all. She did it because I needed help. She is also the organizer of a Thanksgiving meal being held in our building for the 8 or 9 people who have no place to go, and she not really much of a cook. Cool, eh!

I am thankful for a van that still runs. It has its little problems: a door that rattles and a window I have taped so it won’t fall out. I suspect it will be my last car and I’m glad to have it. While I could get around without it, a vehicle means freedom for a senior as much as it does for a teen. The difference is that we drive only if we have to and rarely after dark.

Of course I am thankful for my family. My only immediate family is my daughter, son-in-law and the three grandkids. There are a lot of thing I have missed with my wife gone and one is touch. My grandkids never fail to hug me when they see me and hug me again at departure. Yeah!

I cannot forget Chris’ family as they have included me on special holidays for years. It is always fun to be with them. There are nine children running around yelling and screaming. I may have a headache at the end but it beats silence.

I am thankful for health. Mine is not perfect. Today my back is making it difficult to walk, but rest will cure that. It’s from the physical strain of the weekend. I could go through a list of things that are breaking down, but like it or not we are all moving toward the end and that process usually includes things not working like they used to. It’s part of the pattern. I am thankful for what I do have.

In regard to health, I am thankful I can still draw. After my last heart attack I developed a mild shaking in my left hand (my drawing hand). I was fearful I could no longer draw and went through a time of deciding I would rather not try and then learn I could not draw. So I decided to give it up. God is still allowing me that little pleasure. By the way, I went on line yesterday and found an art consignment site. I am in the process of signing up. Shocked, aren’t you.

I am thankful that God helped me learn that cooking was an art and not an exact science. Once I understood that simple fact, I have feed myself some pretty good food – when I want to. I am still waiting for Rachel Ray’s cookbook for 10-minute meals. I nuke much of what I eat because I don’t like waiting. I can’t imagine having to hunt down or gather my food, then building a fire to cook it. That’s an all day project, maybe even an all week challenge. We have come a long way since the pilgrims — and I am very thankful for that. I really do prefer hunting my food at the butchers.

I am thankful for your who comment from time to time. You challenge me to be better and do better. You encourage and motivate me to keep writing. You are helpful and often funny. I love humor. I try to incorporate it into my blog much of the time. I am completely aware that there are times that I am the only one who thinks I funny, but thankfully you allow the illusion to continue.

Enjoy Thanksgiving. I'll be back on Friday. I might as well. You will never again find me out shopping on Black Friday. I don;t need anything they are selling that bad. I hate crowds.

MY ART

I greatly appreciate all the suggestions I have received about marketing my art, but I think I have left a wrong impression. While I would like to sell some of my art for a little extra cash, I am not sufficiently motivated, interested, skilled or whatever to do the work necessary. What I need is a middle person so I can just draw and not give any thought to marketing.

Marketing is the reason my graphic business failed. I loved the design work, but hated the sales side. All of business requires a “sales” side. That’s why what I do now is a hobby. I only hope I sell something. I do not work at it seriously. It’s a lot like a God relationship. Many people only hope to go to heaven, they do nothing about it.

I appreciate the concern many of you have for me. If it will make you fell any better these shows are often only good for contacts. Two follow-ups have lead to two commissioned portraits. That combined with filling the pulpit in a couple of weeks will give me a really good Christmas. And because I am a doting old man who would do anything for his daughter and grandkids, they will also have a good Christmas. I don’t need much to live on. I can and have lived on less that $10 from as early as the tenth of the month to the end of the month. When you are retired, have a place to live and food to eat, it is amazing what you can do. I don’t go anywhere and I don’t do anything that will cost money. If I run out of something, I just wait until I can afford it. It is no big deal. I can’t say that about past days of my life, but at this stage —it is not hard at all. I not longer live on credit

Art is and expression of joy for me. While it is nice when other people like it, I love it when I like it. And that is not always true. While I do not consider myself a perfectionist, that blood courses through my veins. I have had my stomach in a knot in the past because of a glitch no one else would ever notice. That is pretty much a thing of the past. Every drawing I have done lately has multiple errors in the process. Now I either incorporate those into the drawing or cover them up as best I can. My medium is colored pencil. Prismacolor is a wax-based pencil. You do not erase wax. You can lift some off, but if you have already layered it in too heavily, it’s going to stay. It helps if you work lightly and gradually build up the color intensity.

When I decided to take my sabbatical in 1990 and take an art class, I knew I wanted to create something that could hang on the wall. I had spent all my life working on signs and brochures that pass on information. No matter how pretty, interesting or artist they were (and plenty were not), they were used” and discarded. That was their purpose. So when it came time to decide what I would do I gravitated toward colored pencil because it was a dry medium. I have laid this left hand down in more wet projects than I can count. I usually smear the project at some point. I have tried working from right to left. I even did big banners from right to left and often leave out a letter in way too many projects. The beauty of wax (for me) is that I can lay my hand on top of it and nothing changes. Yeah!

I have toyed with putting things on the web. I’m not sure I want to deal with my own web site. I would like to find a consignment art dealer on the web — so if you know of one, I welcome that direction.

In many ways I just like people to see it. And, by the way – most of my prints sell for $20 in 5x7 and 8x10 both matted. I also make then into cards for $2. I’m happy with that. Any lower and I don’t even cover the cost of pencils, paper and ink.

(Caryn: if you read this write me at cswalker42@yahoo.com. I would like to write you directly)

BLACK FRIDAY

What happened to Black Friday? Where did it go and who stole it? I know the general concept is there, but when is it?

Back in the olden days (two years ago or so) it was the Friday morning after Thanksgiving, or maybe even the middle of the night. I think the big day started at 4:30 or maybe even 5:00 a.m. I’m not really sure as I was rarely up at that time of the night. Of course, with age that has changed a bit. No matter, I could never have gotten myself together enough to go out in the dark, camp out of wait in line to spend money regardless of what a great buy was waiting.

I only did it once for the experience. My daughter and I went to some big box store to get specific items. We both managed to get our hands on some of what we wanted, but the checkout was the worst experience of my life (probably an exaggeration). I was in line for one hour and twenty minutes – and the store had every register open and running. The people in front of me had so much stuff it made me wonder where they all got their money. Two items were not worth the wait.

That was then and this is now. Everything in advertizing is about Black Friday, but I swear they have no idea when Friday it or what week the particular “Black Friday” is to be held.

I have noticed several places online, notably Amazon and Groupon where I can buy items at B lack Friday prices now. Maybe this is OK for them since their plan maybe to ship it to me on Black Friday. But there was a TV ad of a store that had Black Friday prices last Friday. Just a little jump-start I guess.

K-Mart is open all day Thanksgiving. Kohl’s open’s at 12:01 a.m. Friday morning (Midnight actually). A few others have announced that same start. Target wants a jump on Kohl’s so is opening at 11:00 p.m. Thursday. I can’t remember who it is, but someone is opening at 9:00 p.m. Thursday. And of course, all grocery stores will be open all day.

Between shoppers and sales clerks cutting into so many family days, who is left to have Thanksgiving with? I know emergency services have always missed out on either Thanksgiving or Christmas. Things are so confusing that we may as well have a Thanksgiving week and a Christmas week when people can celebrate when ever it fits their schedule. Fundamentally, many families have to do that now. With that change stores could maintain their regular hours and be open all the time. In reality, there is no Black Friday any more, so let’s officially abandon it.

There is really no need for any official declaration; it looks like it is going to die a natural selfish death. So to that ancient shopping day of years gone by, I say farewell and good riddance. I for one will not miss you one bit. I hate the hype, I hate the crowds and I hate the checkout lines and most of all I prefer a newspaper devoid of a hundred or more flyers (maybe another slight exaggeration). I like your prices, but I hate what you expect of me to get those bargains. I feel like Pavlov is at work again. Yum, yum!

I'M BACK AND SOMEWHAT ALERT

River Front Park on Dyes Inlet looking toward Bremerton.

Well, the arts, Crafts and Bake sale are over. Several people did really well, I just didn’t happen to be one of them. Asked during our pack up what I would do differently next year my response was “not do it.” Of course that might change in a few months. The physical drain is a major strain on me. The emotional drain as I ached for those who made little to nothing is even greater. I am less concerned about me. But four vendors did not even make their table (make enough to pay for the table costs). I cannot correct that. What would draw me back next year is that three key vendors are from The Home and each need extra money and got it. As for me, I have another shot and more likely better shot still coming. I will set up my art show the Saturday after Thanksgiving. The artist reception will be Dec. 16. I have four drawings completed and another with about 2 hours drawing left. I hope that by the 16^th I will have completed another three completed. I could come out of the hole then.

Having the show in Old Town is convenient for us, but parking is always a problem. A big show attracts my people, but that is not possible in this area. Last year we checked area rental spaces and the cost was prohibitive. Since most vendors are new to the scene and inexperienced, any cost is frightening, but we have to pay for advertising some way.

Even if I sell nothing at the art show, I am preaching again this coming Sunday and that will get me out of the hole. I hate to think of preaching as a means to profit, but in this case it is helpful if not necessary.

My strange dreams continue. I have no recurring dreams and I cannot see a theme. I am not yet ready to attribute them to senility, but they are not coming from any sphere of reference of which I am aware. They are not frightening nor threatening. In retrospect, they are somewhat humorous but I call them strange.

The most recent ones had to do with boxes. I was closing them up and trying strong around them. These were not Christmas package’s, they were plain brown cardboard boxes. I was not taping, gluing or fastening them together with anything but string. I only saw one at a time, but since them kept coming I have no idea about quantity. I was no overwhelmed. Had I been I would have connected the dream to the craft show. I was reasonably happy. That’s the strange part. I have never enjoyed repetition.

I was sick of people at age 18 and left the shoe store to take a job in a warehouse. It paid more. The first day two of us was given pricing guns and told to correct prices on the boxes coming down the belt. The boxes were all ready packed with product and we had to put a new sticker over the old price. The speed of the belt reminded me somewhat of the “I Love Lucy” chocolate factory show. We had to keep at a steady pace and had no control over the speed. When a buzzer sounded we got a break. It took so much concentration that the two of us only spoke at the break. Guess what. That was my first and last day as an assembly line worker. I decided money wasn’t everything.

By the way, when I woke from the box dream, if felt like a lunch break. I awoke hungry, but really had to go to the bathroom.

I'LL BE BACK IN ANOTHER WEEK

I'm overwhelmed because I have two art shows I am preparing for. The first is next weekend and I need at least another week. There were days in the past I could easily handle this, in fact seemed to like it. Now, I wear out way to quicjly and both my body and mind need a rest from that pace and the activity.

As soon as that show is complete, I need to hang my drawings on Nov. 26. The open house for that is not until Dec. 16th, so I will have time to add more pieces. I was trying to work at two pieces a week, but find I cannot maintain that. The first is also a craft show so I have many little pieces (tree ornaments) I am also working on. That is a project with my daughter and grandkids. It will come to an end soon.

Just want to say, I am not depressed and I will continue my story of God's redemption and blessing. Based on some comments I guess I left the impression I am depressed. No, I was when all this happened, but the story will be one of redemption and joy. I just like to end with a bit of a teaser to make people wonder what is coming next. It may have sent the wrong message especially since I haven't written for awhile.

Like someone famous (actually more than one someone famous), I'll be back.

A LOVE LOST

I swear love makes people stupid. It made me stupid. I met the woman of my dreams at a Bible College in Canada.

My buddy convinced me to come with him to this college in Canada. We both had visions of mountains and learning to ski. We were dumb Americans from the Midwest. The only pictures I had ever seen of Canada were of places like Banff. Neither of us seemed to know that Regina, Saskatchewan was in the middle of the flattest place on earth. A speed bump was treated as a mountain. No matter that it was a shock rather than a vision, it was an adventure.

The school had a funky little snack shack called “Tuck Shop.” Don’t know why, but that always seemed a strange name. One of the student workers was this blond girl with sparkling eyes and a beautiful smile. I liked her immediately. My next-door room neighbor told me he was dating her. I hated him immediately. Maybe that was too strong. Actually, I decided I would just work at being her friend. It did not take long for me to learn the “liking” part was one sided and she didn’t share his feelings. A crack in the door developed. I pursued more and more conversation with her. We had no classes together as she was a year ahead, but I began to know where she would be at certain times and also figured out her work schedule. I studied her movement more than my homework. I was going stupid.

The young man who rented a room had a similar impact, but a different kind of love. He came into my home because of the place he was living at the time. He believed his relatives were treating him badly. He was far from his mother and I had the space.

We talked often. He was a fine Christian boy with a heart for God. He was warm and friendly and all I wanted to do was help him. I don’t know when it turned from a desire to him to wanting to protect him, but it did. I don’t know when protecting him moved to rescuing him. I have always regretted dragging him to his bank because of over draft charges to get it corrected. He was going deep into a hole paying for the use of his debit card by being charged $18 each time he used the card after his money was gone. They would let him go $400 in the hole before they would stop it so is over draft charge were getting close to his monthly income.

Rather than explaining his options and letting him handle the matter, I treated him like a child being taken advantage of and took him to the bank to fix the situation. I stole his independence and his manhood. I turned him into a little. To me he was a great son in need of a father figure and I wanted to be that father. I wanted him as my replacement son for the one I lost. I smothered him, offended him and lost him. My emotions were out of control. My depression at the lost of my own son and my guilt in trying to find out what I had done to cause his death and the grief for my wife that was returning was destroying whoever I had been.

He met the girl of his dreams and I knew that would end our relationship. I failed him miserably. I was stupid. I had taken this vessel of clay God had given me mold in His image and began to try to shape it in my own. I took responsibility that was not mine to take.

By Gods grace, he is a fine man of God. But rather than being an adult friend, my own heartbreak led me lose a relationship that began and sustained a long time as a wonderful and positive thing for us both.

This affected my work at the church and led to the end of my ministry and the beginning of struggling for survival.

MY SON

I’m trying to remember why I started this blog. I know a friend had urged to do it and in my early days of living in The Home I really thought must of what occurred her was rather funny. I was surprised at how juvenile 60+ years old could act. It is beginning to seem all so normal.

CW has moved out. People are upset that our own residents are stealing items from a collection box of warm clothes for the homeless. And we get an onsite manager beginning Monday. The Ivory Tower, in their infinite wisdom, is sending over one of their own to work in this office to look after us and do some head office type of work as well. So, life goes on as normal and little I see seems out of the ordinary any longer.

I do write to express myself because I like writing. But I also know I say little of importance and talk about issues in only the lightest of terms. This may only be a brief departure from frivolity, but I want to write (as least for a few blogs) about my journey from being a “have” to a “have not.” The economy is going south and many are struggling just to keep their heads above water, I have been doing this for over ten years. I’ve adjusted to living on less, but I blow it at times. I have blown it this month already and it is only the fifth day.

I left, resigned and/or was fired from a church in 1999. I will not go into all the details, but the accusations were emotionally true, but not actually true. I had rented rooms to young adult men since shortly after my daughters wedding. It was a good arrangement. In 1995 I took in a young man who was a diamond in the rough. He was everything I had wanted my own son to be, but was not. My son committed suicide in December of 1993. It has taken years to accept that I did not cause his death. He was 24 at the time. Needless to say, I did not cause it. But parents feel like they are responsible for the actions of their children when their choices are dramatically different from that of the parents. His were. We ask where did we go wrong, what did we do, how did we fail. It is easy to forget free will and the church will not let us forget “train up a child in the way he should go.”

I began working in my last church three months after the death of my wife. Everything was new and I was definitely different. I grieved for my wife for five years in a slow and agonizing release. I doubt I knew how much I loved her until she was gone. I was adjusting to that loss and 18 months later within one day of being to the day, I lost my son. December 20, 1993. Christmas!

I had to deal with the awful feeling of relief that he was gone. I had lived with the constant fear that he would die without us ever knowing. Much of the last 6 years of his life was an unknown. We did know where he was or what he was doing. He returned home only to recover from illness or detox himself. We had lost him at 18 years of age. We just didn’t know it.

My wife died, not from anything I did, but of disease that came in the flow of life. My son’s death was anything but natural. I was still denying my need for emotional help to cope and adjust when into my life came the son of my dreams. He was emotionally young for his 20 years, but he was loving, kind, considerate, and helpful and a joy to be around. I loved him.

To be continued.

OCEAN PARK BUILDING

This is drawing Number two.

COURAGEOUS

The biggest news in out part of this tiny little world is Kim Kardashian and her marriage, divorce to Kris Humpheries. Outside of the sports world, who ever heard of Kris — and while I’m at it, why is Kim famous. Only in America are people famous for being famous. What did she do – cure cancer, feed the homeless, save the earth?

Right behind her is the lawsuit filed against Justin Bieber claiming he father the child a one Mariah Yeater in a 30 second tryst at a concert in Los Angeles. I understand he would have been 16 at the time. He has certainly jumped into the rock lifestyle quickly, if it is true.

But why are these important pieces of news? How sick are we as a society? Why do nobodies and entertainers get the limelight? It is because we give it to them. We eat up their trash. What happened to embarrassment about these activities? They used to be shameful acts.

I am grateful there are some who are trying to add a positive Christian influence to the world of entertainment, thankfully.

I went to see Courageous a few days ago. It is the most powerful sermon I have ever heard or seen about the role of men in the lives of their kids. In case you don’t know about it, here is their description.

“Four men, one calling: To serve and protect. As law enforcement officers, Adam Mitchell, Nathan Hayes, David Thomson, and Shane Fuller are confident and focused. Yet at the end of the day, they face a challenge that none of them are truly prepared to tackle: fatherhood. While they consistently give their best on the job, good enough seems to be all they can muster as dads. But they're quickly discovering that their standard is missing the mark. When tragedy hits home, these men are left wrestling with their hopes, their fears, their faith, and their fathering. Can a newfound urgency help these dads draw closer to God ... and to their children?”

This is the fourth film produced by Sherwood Pictures and the brother acting, writing and production team of Alex and Stephen Kendrick. The first film of theirs I saw was Facing Giants. Another outstanding film made on a shoestring budget. Courageous was made for 2 Million and the opening weekend took in 9.1 million. Fireproof, their third film was made for $500,000 and earned 33 million. All this to say, the their films are being critically well received. Sherwood Pictures is produced by Sherwood Baptist Church in Albany, Georgia. The whole church gets involved in the making of these movies. Many are volunteers.

Michael Catt, the senior pastor, writes about the beginning.

When looking for a media pastor, I contacted Alex. Though Alex was using his gifts and talents in ministry, he was not the director of media for his church. I saw a diamond in the rough. Alex came on board in 1999, and we called his brother Stephen in 2001.

God had been preparing these two from childhood to make movies. As kids they lived next door to a man who was interested in technical gadgets. He bought stop-and-go animation cameras, and Alex and Stephen used his equipment to make short videos. For years the boys put together homemade “chase ‘em down and beat ‘em up” movies. Later they produced commercials, movie trailers and even school projects.

I talked with Alex about where he wanted to be in five to ten years. He said, “I want to make movies, but no church is going to let me stay on staff and do that.” I replied, “Why not? Bring me a script and a budget, and let’s see if God is in it.” That conversation was the genesis of Sherwood Pictures. Our goal from day one has been to make family-friendly movies that build on the Judeo Christian ethic and communicate the gospel without compromise. We want to make movies you could take your girlfriend or your grandmother to without embarrassment.

In 2001 we went to Orlando, Florida, for staff retreat and took a day off to hang out at Disney World. We took a behind the scenes tour and learned about their “imagineers.” As we walked around the park observing the attention to detail everywhere, we were challenged with this thought: If a secular company can be this committed to excellence, why can’t the church of Jesus Christ?

While in Orlando, I talked with Alex about where he wanted to be in five to ten years. He said, “I want to make movies, but no church is going to let me stay on staff and do that.” I replied, “Why not? Bring me a script and a budget, and let’s see if God is in it.” That conversation was the genesis of Sherwood Pictures. Our goal from day one has been to make family-friendly movies that build on the Judeo Christian ethic and communicate the gospel without compromise. We want to make movies you could take your girlfriend or your grandmother to without embarrassment.

What a great story. I hope you enjoy their movies as much as I have.