I've been thinking a lot lately. A lot about what I have. A lot about what I need, and more specifically what I don't need. It would seem I don't need much really.

Looking at a stack of a couple hundred DVDs got me thinking:

I don't NEED these.

How often do I watch these?

Why did I buy all of these DVDs?

I could probably survive without them.

I wonder how much I could get for them.

I wonder what I could do with the money.

So I listed them on Amazon. I listed all of them...and some books. And some video games. And some other stuff. And you know what? It sold! At least a lot of it did. I've made over $500 so far and it's all going to be poured into the Kingdom of God. It's actually been a lot of fun.

What's something that you could do without to provide more wiggle-room for important stuff? In other words, what is something you could sacrifice to provide for others?

A twenty dollar bill and 4 singles are stuffed in my pocket as I pull up to the window at Dunkin' Donuts. I'm able to justify spending 3 bucks on a large Vanilla Latte at the donut shop rather than 5 bucks at Starbucks. This gives my guilt acquittal and allows me to sleep at night.

<*static*> "Please pull up to the window sir." <*static*>

As I pull up my car is still ice-cold and I can't wait hug my coffee and use it to warm my rigid chassis. I hate the cold. I'm sick all winter long and to be honest it just sucks.

<*window opens*> "That'll be $3.20 sir...and here...try a free sample of our new hash browns." I hand her the money and think to myself, Don't mind if I do. <* window closes*>

Eighty cents change comes my way and by now I've already consumed the tiny delicious sample of hash browns. I want more of them, but I don't want more of them. I drive onward to things of business with Andrew Jackson gasping for air within the capsule of my jeans. Poor little guy...he'll be okay. I can't ever seem to keep any presidents held hostage in there too long. Nothing to worry about Mr. Jackson...you'll be free soon enough.

After a couple of hours I forget that Andrew is even there. He doesn't take up much space and I am consumed with other thoughts. Consumed, that is, until I reach the grocery store. You see I've got some men to feed tonight. Men who will arrive at my home for spiritual insight and challenges. Men who will arrive for food. I want to feed them something healthy tonight...I think Baked Chicken in a light pan sauce with *Mirepoix Couscous will do the trick.

I gather up my missing ingredients and I head for the check-out line. This is where I remember Andrew. He's in my pocket. He's ready to help me out when I need him. So long as I have less than $20 worth of stuff I can use him. Hmm...I think this weird lasagna thing I'm having for lunch might put me over the top. Sorry Andrew, I think I might have to use my debit card.

The lady in front of me is fumbling about.

She can't seem to locate her payment method and she is searching frantically for it. I feel for her as this just happened to me last week. A friend of mine used my debit card and then attempted to steal it from me...or forgot to return it to me in a totally innocent manner...I can't remember which. Either way, I got up to pay for something and I didn't have my payment method. This kind of thing can make one feel totally helpless AND dumb.

The cashier keeps the line moving. She postpones this lady's transaction and gets mine moving. I sneak a peek at the woman's total before the cashier starts ringing in my items and it's $19.82...I remember because that's the year I was born...and because I'm OCD...and I'm a spy. My items are scanned in and my total comes to something I can't remember which bugs the crap out of me because it means I'm not being a very good OCD spy. Blast.

I use my debit card to pay. I stare spyishly over at the lady who is still searching for a way to pay for her goods. The Holy Spirit whispers to me, "Use Andrew, Use Andrew." I decide not to argue with Him since He's right even more often than my wife is and I can't possibly win this one.

I grab Andrew by the throat and I yank him towards the lady. I say..."Here, use this." She looks at me as if I were purple and just had hot magma pour from my face holes. We squabble for a moment and she gives in finally to receive Andrew as another temporary owner.

The woman, defeated, calms down and says gently, "But I don't even know what your name is." To which I responded, running backwards, "I'm just someone who loves Jesus."

She looked at me and simply said, "Okay."

I'm still a little confused as to why she didn't fall on her knees to receive salvation then and there like they describe in cheesy Christian devotionals. For me though, I couldn't have asked for a more excellent anti-climactic comment such as, "Okay."

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*Mirepoix (meer eh pwah) which means cuisine, is a traditional French cooking base for many, many things. It's made up of 2 parts onion, 1 part carrot, and 1 part celery. It is actually known as the "Holy Trinity" of cooking. If you start with a good Mirepoix...it's almost difficult to make the food bad from there.

My lovely wife Allison and her younger sister Andrea have pronounced a goal to do a half-marathon together. Now I know it's called a half-marathon, but to me it's more like a quadruple marathon.

Here's MY scale:

* Full Marathon (26 Miles) - 8 Marathons in a row AKA Absolute Certain Death...on a Stick.

* Half Marathon (13 Miles) - 4 Marathons in a row AKA Probable Expiration + Agony.

* Triathlon Run (6 Miles) - 2 Marathons in a row AKA Heat Stroke + Torment = Delirium.

* Jogging (Anywhere between 3 steps and many miles) - This is a simple lapse in judgment.

Thankfully, we're not talking about MY scale in this post. We're talking about Allison and Andrea's scales / goals / running abilities.

When Allison told me that she and her sister would be doing this I was a bit surprised at first. Not that I didn't think they could do it, I do. I think I was surprised that they would jump right into such a big undertaking. I'm extremely proud of them.

As a husband this feels like a big opportunity area to me. I'm so excited that Allison would be going after such a big goal like this. I feel like I need to support her in any way I can. This kind of stuff is crucial for a marriage. When I started training for the triathlons I took part in, Allison supported me by allowing me to buy certain things and get out there and exercise when I needed to. I want to do the same for her.

We went out yesterday and got her a nice pair of running shoes. I was thinking about getting her some as soon as she mentioned it. There's something to getting a new this or that when it comes to a goal. A new pair of shoes is great for having comfort and support when running, but more than that they provide accountability. When I get something new I feel like I have to use it for at least a while. I can't just toss it aside...I've got some answering to do if I don't make use of something.

These shoes will provide just that...an opportunity to be set up for success and the responsibility to keep at it. "You can't stop training...those shoes were $$$!!"

Combine those new shoes with an offer to watch Ava whenever I can and I know she can do this. I can't wait to see it happen...and I can't wait to see the full marathon after that. Allison doesn't ever give up...she'll never be able to stop with a HALF marathon.

Running...Pffft.

For me, I can think of no other thing that's quite as relaxing as an automatic car wash.

Getting my hair cut is a close second, but I've never fallen asleep while getting a haircut...probably a good thing. I'm not quite sure what it is exactly. I mean, these touchless car wash deals are extremely noisy and yet it's like they cut out all the noise in my head.

I love getting my car(s) washed.

The reason I'm mentioning this is because I think I may have cut my automatic car wash supply off this year. I typically try to get a washin' every few weeks or so and it's always like a mini-vacation. No more mini-vacations planned. Why?

That's why:


I've been dreaming of one of these man-toys for a while now...that dream has become a reality. I simply had to wait for the right opportunity (enter my wife throwing a baby shower at our house) and viola!! 2600PSI...yes please. 5.5 Horsepower...yes please. Muahahahaha.

So...it's a bittersweet victory. While I can now blow the paint off of nearly any hard surface, I'll have to sit on the washing machine with my eyes closed and my imagination turned way up for the same car wash effect. It's a trade-off I'm willing to get used to.

Now if I could just figure out how to get gasoline to flow through this thing...