Stampede

In 1994, I took Kinesiology 101 at HU or "One-oh-Run" as we called it. Jogging was the only thing I could do to pass that class, and I hated every step. I kept running a bit throughout college, but nothing was serious. I ran sporadically during law school, intensely for a year in the first year of marriage and law practice, then none at all for the next five years.

One year ago this month, my wife and I decided to get serious about our eating, trying to lose weight and hoping to live longer. I weighed in last October at around 220, much, much to heavy for my frame. We dove into the South Beach Diet, and I started running.

A year later, I feel like a runner. Last November, I got a runner's high on endorphines for the first time, and my family noticed these developments at my birthday with a new stopwatch, Road ID, new kicks, Runner's World and wicking t-shirts. All of that just made me feel obligated to live up to the hype.

Today, I weighed in at 183. My pace at 4 miles is between 7:30 and 8:00 per mile.

This story comes full circle when I run, Lord Willing, in the Harding University Bison Stampede 5K this Saturday. This is my first organized sporting event since I was in elementary school, unless you count band competition and you don't.

My goal is to clock in at 22:00, and I hope to beat my friend, Jamey, whom I never have beaten in anything athletic since we were in second grade.

Stay tuned.

Vandy! (This Week's Edition)

Vandy beat Miami of Ohio.

Vandy is 5 - 3, one win away from bowl eligibility.

Mississippi State beat Kentucky, so are the stars aligning for my dear 'Dores?

I am 8-0 picking Vandy games this season. Feel my karma, football world.

Go 'Dores.

VANDY!

On the road to 7-5, I have picked every Vandy game accurately so far. From August, here is what I wrote about this weekend:

"At South Carolina: win. (This is my closest call, because Spurrier would suit up before he loses to Vandy. Even so, we were strongest on the road last year, and USC is suffering awful distractions despite the coach’s best efforts to raise expectations.)"

WIN! Did I say "win"? Yes, I did.

I would not have dared to think that this win would be a victory over a top-10, SEC East foe in the hunt for the conference championship. This is the highest ranked team we have beaten in 70 years.

Next week: Miami of Ohio. With that win, as I predict, we will be one game away from .500 with four games to play: Florida, Kentucky, Tennessee, Wake Forest. I'll stick with my picks, and Tennessee looked awfully beatable today, too. We might even win eight games. Don't scoff. LSU beat Florida. Kentucky beats LSU. Kentucky loses to South Carolina. Vandy beats South Carolina. Stranger things have happened, just not recently.

Go 'Dores!

Update from Sunday's Tennessean:

"Following the game, Jim Bridges and Mike Langford of Florida Citrus Sports visited the Commodores locker room.
Florida Citrus Sports is the organizing body for the Capital One Bowl in Orlando — formerly the Citrus Bowl — which pits an SEC team against a Big Ten team.

'We just wanted to congratulate Coach Johnson for a big win,' Bridges said."

Tantalizing.

Mr. Arthur

Three weeks ago, our family took our nightly walk with the two little girls in their double jogging stroller. Baby Scout toted a doll with her, a plush, pink, non-descript baby-doll. The doll was not a favorite but certainly was due all the love and affection any baby girl’s doll demands.

As we turned toward home on our block, we noticed that the doll was gone from our presence. We had been walking for over an hour, covering much of our old neighborhood. None of us had noticed when the doll parted with us, and we grieved. Older sister was more worried and anxious about her fate, so I promised to go look for her after bed-time.

Trying to be a good and faithful Daddy, I laced up the running shoes after the girls were asleep. After scouring our yard, under both cars and in all pertaining bushes and shrubs, I hit the bricks and ran our route all over again. I spoke with a friendly security guard and put him on alert. I saw another neighbor walking her dog in the park and implored her vigilance. All was to no avail, because I did not find the doll.

I began conjuring useful stories. That night on the walk, we had discussed and rehearsed much of wishing on stars. I told the inquiring Big Sister the next morning that I wondered whether some lonely little girl had wished for a doll to keep her company and whether our wee doll had not left us to befriend the other needy child. After a few more questions, we all resigned ourselves to her permanent loss.

Saturday, Big Sister and I tied balloons in a crepe myrtle in our yard, to help guide some students and faculty coming over for a party. We noted nothing out of the ordinary.

This morning, as I left for work, waving at my family assembled on the front porch, I noticed something strange in the fork of a branch in the same crepe myrtle.

Lo and behold! In the fork of that branch was our baby doll! She was clean, unsoiled, dry and pleasant as the night we lost her. I jumped from my car and retrieved her and delivered her to happy Scout on the porch, as my wife and I gaped at each other. Big Sister was thrilled.

I have no workable theories about the doll-baby’s return, but I am glad that we moved back to Alabama where such things have been known to happen to the benefit of lawyer’s daughters.

Vandy in the Village

Vandy lost ugly today against Auburn. We were there to bear witness, but I am serene after a very pleasant day in the Loveliest Village on the Plains. Another beauty of being a Vanderbilt fan, even decked out in unmistakable school colors, is that opponents are usually hospitable and polite. We don't get in people's faces, are rarely a big threat and usually enjoy the competitor's respect, so we were happy to walk through Toomer's Corner, weaving our way through the toilet paper for a nice post-game snack of pitas and ice cream.

That's how we roll in a ugly loss.

Please note that we still are on track for 7-5 and a bowl, and Georgia is still looking ripe.

Go 'Dores.

Liberation

Many of us have long, often painful, histories with the Church of Christ. I am the fourth generation in my family, a Hebrew among Hebrews from the tribe of Benjamin. I have a degree from Harding's College of Bible and Religion, first lead "Victory in Jesus" when I was twelve, was baptized for the remission of sins at 11, traveled to foreign missions since age 7 with my missionary grandparents and now am teaching at one of "our" universities.

I also have been accosted by a elder's wife after a teenage devotional at church for suggesting that my Baptist and Methodist friends were Christian, have had a worship service shut down by Harding administration operatives for showing a video that included music, have been disfellowshipped in a church parking lot by a guy who just called me a blasphemer for suggesting that Jesus (not baptism) is the only "thing" essential for salvation, had a blog shut down by an eldership because I did not answer a controversial question with enough gusto and have had to defend my wife at a "men's business meeting" because she led a prayer with baptized, teenage boys in the room.

Even so, I love the Church of Christ. It is my tribe, and I am devoted to the people the Lord has given to me in our tradition, my family, my classmates and teachers, my colleagues, the Fellas. I am moved by the roots of our movement and believe that some fruit may still be borne from the ideas of unity, sola scriptura, restoration and peacemaking. The Church of Christ, despite its acute problems, has been a mighty tool in many lives.

My wife and I used to pray, hope and wonder what a Church of Christ could do if it ever could get beyond the crippling fear of controversies, like shaking off unscriptural shackles on women, like breaking the hamstrung fixation on Sunday morning form, like freedom from the fear of “offending” those who merely disagree. We have worshiped in paralyzed churches to our exhaustion. We have worshiped in a church that was on the verge of liberation but rested on the verge for so long that inertia set in on an incomplete journey.

The Good Lord, however, has delivered us to a Church of Christ who is liberated in many, lovely ways. We exist and honor our heritage and best of our traditions but do not worship them. Women participate more and more and Jesus as His apostles taught the Church, that is, praying and prophesying before the church, teaching and admonishing and leading souls to Christ. We claim history earlier than 1820 with the Apostle’s Creed, the Nicene Creed and the Book of Common Prayer. We sing a capella, and we celebrate with instruments as the Word encourages us to do. We are striving to live in Acts 2 community, and we discipline ourselves to offer hospitality to all who call on the name of the Lord and those who do not.

We have problems and obstacles, of course, and always will. Even so, the Lord answered our prayers with a Church of Christ liberated from its own dying quagmire.

Hallelujah.

In the full, abundant joyous life we share at our Church of Christ, this sort of proclamation (described better here) just looks silly, anachronistic, desperate and sad. I pray that our Lord still saves folks who strain at gnats while neglecting the camels and that He can work around this pernicious distraction as He continues to save the rest of the world.