When Success Stinks 10:09 PM

Usually when a mid-major any-sport program does well, one of the big boys with big boosters brandishes some benjamins and the coach bolts (even if he has repeatedly professed his love for his alma mater). The horn has barely sounded on WKU's sweet 16 run, and the (Darrin) Horn is headed to South Carolina.

That "whoosh" you heard was all the momentum leaving Bowling Green.

I fully understand the "promotion" from the Sun Belt to the Southeastern Conference, and yet it is a bit difficult to swallow. This marks the 5th successful coach that WKU has lost to a larger program. The question does not lie in the "fairness" of this move - because it is capitalism when it is boiled down, money talks after all - but does the coach owe anything to the university? Coaches preach loyalty and trust, where is the trust here? (Side note: the Utah Jazz have the longest tenured coach in professional sports.)

I know nothing of Horn's relationship with the athletic director or the president, factors which may have or may not have played a role in his departure. Yet there is a palpable sadness in Bowling Green tonight, because Western let one of its own get away.

He is Risen Indeed! 3:28 PM

Today the teeter-totter tips toward transcendence and transformation
not just of a cave and a stone but
you and me and the whole community

Touch the wounds and see that it is HE
and darkness drowns
in Trinity

On this third day, hopelessness gives way
to a man and a world reborn
and forsaken Friday is silenced

Roll away the rock and let this roar resonate forever...
HE is risen.


(picture grab here)

Big Red Bomb 4:49 PM

Dana and I celebrated our alma mater's last-second squeaker by losing our minds and waking our sleeping baby.

Dana has been singing the fight song ever since.

Some Brogging 10:09 PM

Hat tip to Lindsay Aja for "brog" (bragging + blogging = brogging).

Four month old Stockton tipped the scales at 17 pounds 7 ounces, which puts him in the heavyweight division (90th percentile for height and weight). Meanwhile, his father still resides in the "Glass Joe" division.

Here's the little heavyweight telling his friend (born a week before the baby boy) a good joke he heard.

Mayday 4:18 PM

There was a time in my life when I couldn't stand church, had no idea what seminary was, and hated the word sermon. Today, I agreed to preach in chapel at Asbury on Thursday, May 1st.

Ascension day, baby. In front of the likes of Ben Witherington, James Hampton, Grandpa Ellsworth, JD Walt, and my boy Dr. David Bauer. By the time it is over, I, like Jesus, may want to disappear.

Yeesh.

Baby Stepping Back In 9:37 PM

I have not kicked the bucket...though I have thrown up, spit, and hawked (as in loogies, not birds) into one. I get sick once about every five years - but one illness for each of the past five years put me on my backside for the majority of the past three weeks. A nasty stomach-afraid-to-move-because-i-am-gonna-throw-up virus shut it down for a week. A week later, a large cat (the doctor called it bacterial pneumonia) took up residence in my chest for another eight days. In-between was an awesome six days of confirmation experience that I will tell you about another time. Here, now, is the death toll from the dirty double dozen of days.

- 11 days of work missed
- 16 days sleeping alone on the couch or quarantined in the bedroom
- 7 I'm-not-gonna-make-it Exorcist style projectile flinging
- 2 pairs of paints ruined
- 3 Sunday youth groups shortened, canceled, or modified
- 1 crucifix clutched around the clock
- 72 hours of shortness of breath...laying on the couch
- 4 bottles of medicine sitting on the nightstand next to me at any given time...with crackers
- 19.7 percent of Stockton's life...missed due to illness (3 weeks of 16 total weeks)
- 102.5 degrees; the highest fever I have ever had in my life
- 1 three-week message series completely scrapped

So, I think I'm back. I think I'm better. But I don't want to jinx it.