Unhindered.

"Yes, I can."

The three most liberating, empowering, bolstering words in the English language. In that order, of course. I suppose you could switch them up, into "Can I? Yes.", or "I can, yes."

Same difference. :)

Once you decide that you can, once you make up your mind that it can be done, there isn't anything that can stop you. Except maybe the laws of physics, and even then it can only slow you down, not stop you completely.

I'm beginning to realize the power of the mind. Not like "these aren't the droids you're looking for" power, but the power of a simple decision. You can decide to change your habits. You can decide to not live in the past, and you can decide to accomplish everything you want or need to accomplish.

It starts with a decision. Purposing in your mind that it can be done. Purposing in your heart that you cannot be altered, or stopped. If you think about it, revenge, passion, determination, perseverance..they all are propelled by a decision: "Yes, I can."

So guess what. Today's the day that you are going to say that. Today's the day that you are going to decide that you can. And at the end of the day? You're going to be proud of what you accomplished.

Promise.

Rumors Of My Death Are Highly Overrated.

Yes. I'm alive.

Although, to quote The Matrix, "There are levels of survival that I am willing to accept."

I'm here, things are....here, and here is the latest from me: I'm blogging a quickie to tell you that more is to come. Not that I can't tell you NOW, but I can't.

Godspell is looming, and she's a jealous girl.

Check out www.cytchicago.com, click on the Rockford Metro tab, and see what Courtney and I have been doing for the past 7 weeks. Show goes up tomorrow, and once that is done, and once I return from my chemically induced coma state around November 9th-10th, I'll start blogging once more.

See you all in about 2 weeks!

The Best A Man Can Get.

Well, I finally did it.

I never thought it would come to this, but it has. It's a dark, dark day in my life.

I shaved my back.

*shudder*

Let me start at the beginning.

I'm in the bathroom, admiring the physique that God and the pizza gave me, when I notice something out of the corner of my eye. It's my son, standing at the doorway, with a horrified look on his face, holding up a quivering finger, pointing, mouth agape.

I should probably let readers know at this point that only my shirt was off.

Shaking finger, eyes wide, mouth open...and he lets loose this gem.

"You have hair....on your back?"

I stood for a moment, until the weight of his words really took hold, and slammed into me with the force of a lemon wrapped around a large gold brick.

"What? What did you say?"

"Hair. On your back. You look weird. Am I going to get hair on my back? Is the hair on my back going to be blond? That'd be weird. Blond back hair. Bond black hair. Blond black bear..."

He continued, but he had me at "hair". ON MY BACK.

DARK day, faithful readers. I tell you plainly, there has never been a time when I've cared much about appearances, nor how I look to others. I've never been one to work out, be narcissistic, or even suck in a gut or flex at a passing mirror. I'll do the funny poses post-shower, but never care much to think "MAN, I need to have a six-pack." My stomach is hard as a rock, thank you very much; just hidden under about 4 inches of snow.

But BACK HAIR? That's something for...old people...and hairy...people. I can still count my chest hairs on two hands, and...now, this?

I contorted to check it out. I was picturing massive amounts of curly black hair, in a thick mat, with burrs and knots in it; George "The Animal" Steele, that guy at the Y with the tank top sweating too much that you never want to guard playing basketball...my Aunt Gerty...

I twist and crank and look. I see nothing...but wait. There it is. A single black hair, left shoulder blade. One of those rogue hairs that is trying to get the promotion by growing an inch longer than all the others. An overachiever. The hair that always has it's hand raised with the right answer in Follicle School.

My enemy.

As I stared at the vile growth and it stared back, I think I heard the theme to "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly" play outside somewhere.

I raised my weapon. Gillette. Triple blade. Disposable, only used 3 or 4 times. Still has some of that green strip that is supposed to make the shaving experience smooth. I let loose a warrior's war cry and shaved a good 5 inch swath, enough to let this upstart hair and the other hairs it's been running with that the Law's in town.

Stick your head up and it's liable to get cut off.

And as I rinsed the black leviathan from the blade down the sink, it sticks on the plug, as if Rose was on the top of the plank, begging it not to let go, never let go. I opened the tap a little further, and bid farewell to this haunter of dreams, this false prophet of my future.

I raise the razor overhead, triumphant, to let loose my barbaric "Yawp" to be heard over the rooftops of the town, and as I stood, muscles tensed, nerves heightened, 60 watt flood lamp rays beaming down from recessed heavens, fresh gooseflesh rippling as I bathed in my glorious victory and shouted, "Yeeeeaaaarrrrgggghhhhhhhh..............."

My wife comes in and says, "You're an idiot."

Fine. Have your laugh, woman. The hair knows.

New Widget!

New widget is here! Scroll all the way down to the bottom of the page to hear some Faith Kids Music!!

Innocence Lost

Darn that Judy Blume.

I wonder how many other kids who read exceptionally well for their ages find out things they're not supposed to.

It's a ritual for Sophia and I to read at bedtime. She's 8, but she's a phenomenal reader, so the books tend to lean more toward chapter books. Judy Moody, Cam Jansen, and lately we've been on a Fudge kick, Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, Super Fudge, Double Fudge.

I'm usually pretty quick about catching things. In Tales of a Fouth Grade Nothing, there's a bit about some kids saying "the A word", which I quickly skipped over before Soph caught it. In Super Fudge, there was a bit about Santa that I skipped over, too.

I wasn't quick enough in Double Fudge.

The very end of the book, Fudge loses a tooth while eating a brownie. Mini, Fudge's cousin (also named Farley Drexel), takes the tooth and secretly swallows it. The very last scene of the book is Fudge showing his older brother Peter a box with all of Peter's and Fudge's teeth in it, that their parents had taken and saved.

Sophia turns to me and says, "You and Mommy don't take my teeth, do you?"

Me: "No."

Sophia: "You promise?"

Me: Gulp.

I can't lie to my daughter. I just can't, not when she asks me point blank questions like that. Upon my hesitation, I could actually SEE the realization creep over her face that the Tooth Fairy isn't real, and she burst into tears. Wouldn't let me hold her. Her father had lied, that's what the sobbing back of her head was saying to me.

"Why didn't you just tell me a long time ago???"

I have to be honest, I feel terrible.

Five minutes later, she made the connection to Santa.

Is it wrong? Is it lying? To create characters, fanciful, bigger than life, secretive, but jolly and sparkly, to create a sense of wonder in kids? Earlier today I would've given a wholehearted no, it's not lying, it's fun, and the kids love it.

Right now? I don't know.

We talked about it with her, and now she wants to dress up AS the Tooth Fairy and sneak into Ethan's room for his first lost tooth. She is okay with it, but MAN, if there isn't something innocent that's lost there. I guess I'm kidding myself in thinking that she'll stay wide-eyed and innocent forever.

She heard the word "hell" on TV today, too. Lord, I'm slipping. I want to encapsulate her, all my kids, but especially her...she's the girl...but I think that's a little naive. I keep thinking of Finding Nemo, when Marlin says that he doesn't want anything bad to happen to his son, Nemo.

Dory says, "Well, you can't never let anything happen to him. Then nothing would ever happen to him. Not much fun for little Harpo."

Experience trumps innocence. Life finds a way to grow. I just hope I have prepared her enough for what's out there.

I just hope.

Ah, The List

Okay, so every time I sit down to blog, I feel like it has to be this hysterically funny, profoundly deep, life-changing dissertation that people will take and use on a daily basis, to better themselves, ultimately giving me the credit for being so inspiring.

Then I realized that the groups that listen to me the most are kids under 8 and women over 65.

And unless someone draws me a picture with crayon or leaves me a large sum of money in their will, I don't know if I'm even reaching them, either.

That being said, I'm going to give you readers a list. It's not THE LIST, or The One List To Rule Them All, or even The List That Shall Not Be Named. It's just a list of things that I think are profound.

Plus, people like lists. Unless of course, they're in a boat taking on water.

The boat is listing from side to..ah forget it. (I hate when I have to explain the joke.)

Adam's Great List Of Important Things

1. It doesn't matter what age you are or what country you're from, if someone sneezes and farts at the same time, it's hilarious.

2. You have no sense of humor if you can't laugh at yourself.

3. The things that you find yourself irritated about are probably the same things that others find irritating about you.

4. People who claim to know everything are incredibly annoying to those of us that actually do.

5. Messy is okay, as long as messy isn't lazy messy. Lazy messy is bad. Lazy messy can pile on top of just regular old messy, and then it's really bad. It takes like, way longer to clean up.

6. My dad taught me once that poop washes off. How true is THAT.

7. No one is going to really know what kind of dream you had last night, no matter how hard you try to explain it to them.

8. People can be taught leadership skills, and people can learn leadership skills, but that doesn't make them a leader. Sometimes it just means that they're a really good test taker.

9. You can't teach someone who doesn't want to be taught any more than you can get old people to stop driving in that imaginary lane on the highway.

10. The only way that you can get summer to slow down is to learn to enjoy being bored.

11. People can change. It's just really, really hard.

12. Kids today need heroes. It's just sad that this world is so quick to find the kryptonite.

13. I cannot do two things at the same time, and neither should you. I tried to text while driving, and I realized that I was holding my breath because I forgot to breathe. I can listen to you while you are talking to me, but if there's something else in my hands (like a sandwich) all I can think about is 'yummy sandwich'.

14. That #12 was a really good one, I'd write that down somewhere.

I'm sure that I could sit here for an extended period of time and write out more. My well runs deep, folks. I just know that there are other things to be done, and other things that I should be doing. However, I'll leave you with #15, which is a GREAT one that I've heard several times from several different sources.

15. You can only say "No" to something when you have a bigger "Yes".

I have SUCH a hard time saying "no" to people; until I found that if I had a bigger "yes". All that means is if I had something that I felt was more important, needed more of my time, and was integral to what God has called me to do, then saying "no" became WAY easier. I want to help others, I want to lend my time and talent all the time, but I have found that I can be way more effective by focusing on one thing that's in my lane rather than trying to keep 15 plates spinning.

Stick that mixed metaphor on your list. :)

Some Much Time And So Little To Do

Wait a minute. Strike that. Reverse it.

Thank you.

I find myself, often times, at a loss as to where to start. Not because I'm unmotivated, nor because I don't have goals.

I have too many.

Take our house, for instance. Do we spend money on landscaping? Do we use that money to build a much needed deck? Finish the basement, so when we have people over, we can shuffle the kids downstairs and let them break THAT part of the house instead of the rest of it?

Maybe we should save the money. Yes, that's the smart thing to do, in these economic times. Save. Don't spend.

With the kid's department it's no different. Should I work on those videos that have been sitting in my office, so we can update the website? Compile the sermons into a cohesive curriculum? Work on the physical space, so the kids have a cool, themed environment? Have the Heroic Boys and Beautiful Girls weekends we have put off for a year? Work on that volunteer cookout? Redo the room and set up a Kindergarten class to ease the gap between the 5's class and Faith Kids?

Maybe we should just keep doing what we're doing. After all, it's working. It's not broken. Yes, that's the smart thing to do, in these economic times. Save. Reuse. Don't spend.

...

...

Yeah, I can't do that. I can't sit. I can't just not do anything. Ask my wife. I'm in horrible moods when I don't have my hands on some kind of plow. 3 years straight with 3 albums and a huge club curriculum, and I figured I needed some "time off".

...

...

Yeah, I can't do that. I, probably like most of you, need something to do. It's not boredom, persay, it's just a feeling of uselessness. I find that I'm at my most creative when I'm in the process of being creative. If there isn't a goal to attain, I feel like I'm filling up a pool with a big hole in the side.

So, I'll just do it all. Isn't that the Walsh way, after all? Have a baby, move into a new house, write a show, run a ministry all during Christmas?

Landscaping, done. Onto the deck.

RED music book done. Onto YELLOW.

Contacts made in the industry. Onto follow-up.

If you are feeling like you are in a rut, it's quite possible that you have too many things to do, or too many things that you think you could do, or have to do. Pick one. Do it. Move on.

That's what you do with your nose, why should your goals be any different?

We Can Still Be Friends...

At the end of the day there's another day dawning. I can't think of that song from Les Mis any more without thinking of the lyrics that Forbidden Broadway changed..."At the end of the show we're another year older...sitting flat on our butts for three hours or more..."

I'd sing it for ya, but...it's a blog.

And here it is, at the end of the day, and I find myself taking stock more often than usual. Did I get what I set out to do done? Did I accomplish all of the things on my "Action Item" list? Am I further ahead now than I was at 8:00 a.m. this morning?

No, no, and a little.

What is it about these kinds of days? Anyone else deal with this? I'm ultra-uber-motivated until I actually sit at my computer. I'm ready to take on any task until I sit in this particular room. It's like the will to create is sucked out of me.

You know what I think? I think it's the room.

It's yellow. Not a fun yellow, but a faded, pale, Walmart yellow-colored roses yellow. Not mustard. Not sunshine. Ick. The more I look at it the more I don't like it.

Actually, I can't look at it that long, because I have to look at my fingers when I type. Hang on a sec.

Yeah, it's terrible.

I need a change of scenery. I tell that to Courtney all the time, when Sam is crabbing his way through the day. "Maybe he needs a change of scenery" I say, thinking that it's a cure-all. And you know what? I might be smarter than I think. Anyone else find this to be true? I used to refocus and recharge by whipping someone's tail in a quick game of online Scrabble...but that's lost it's power.

I'm going to change offices. It's a done deal. I'm having an office mid-life crisis. I need to dump my office and start dating other offices.

It's not you, office, I swear, it's me. It's just something I need to do.

We had some good times, office. 'Member? That one time, when I wrote that song in you with the door shut? 'Member?

It's...just time to move on. I feel like I need to see other rooms. No, your walls are fine. Yes, your desk is pretty, and I'll still think of you every time I have a private phone conversation, but it's something I feel I have to do. For me.

I hope one day you'll grow to forgive me. I hope one day you'll understand.

We can still be friends. And maybe you'll find that full-time guy or girl to fulfill your needs...and your black office chair. Maybe it will be wonderful.

Sigh.

I'm going to walk around the building and put out the vibe. See if any offices are single, looking for a SWM, Taurus, likes to work long hours and enjoys food at his desk.

Oh, This Is Good Stuff.

I'm starting to wonder if I'm a leadership junkie.

I have recently purchased a new book by Bill Hybels, entitled AXIOM. Powerful Leadership Proverbs, it says on the front. I started glancing through it last week, and really dove into it today. It's meaty, relational, accessible and personal.

And that was just the first two "proverbs". Here's a sneak peek:

"The nature of human beings is such that we tend not to drift into better behaviors. We usually have to be asked by someone to consider taking it up a level. In my own life, I've rarely made a sizable step forward -- spiritually, physically, emotionally, or otherwise -- unless someone asked me to do so."

Makes you think. Made me think. I tended to think that I was putting people out by asking them to jump on board with a project, or a vision for the ministry. They don't have the time, I would reason. I'd be putting them out, I would think. Or, one of the biggest ones, what if they say 'no'. The truth of the matter is that on the whole, people are flattered when you ask them to participate in something, especially something big, and MORE especially (especially-er) if it's something for God.

People are flattered when thought of. Aren't you?

I am doing a walk to raise money for AIDS, and we have giveaway baskets. I thought of you, and was wondering if you could donate your kids' CD's to the basket.

Heck, yes!

I want to create a kid's choir, and I'm not sure where to start. Could you help me get started, maybe help me plan some ideas for enrollment and rehearsals?

You know it!

So why, then, do I balk at asking people to step it up? Why do you, then, oh Ye Faithful Eight Readers, hesitate to ask people for things? Favors? Money? Skills? Input?

I think it's because we don't know them. We don't know their skills, and we don't know what they can and can't do. Shoot, they might not even know it. When you know your people and God places a plan in your path, then you're more apt to get that face in your mind's eye, the divine fit, the ohmygoshthey'dbePERFECTforthis moment. Once you know them, rethink your plan, and see who God wants to use to make it happen.

You'll begin to see things in people that they don't see in themselves. You'll be the one to ask them to step up. Take more responsiblity. And honestly, you'll be okay with them saying 'no', if they do. You are bound to be obedient to God's prompting to ask, not bound to forcing someone to do something.

Oh, this stuff is good. I've always been a quick "coach to court" leader. What the coach corrects on the bench during a timeout in the game I walk out on the court and do it.

I'm going to re-read this post, re-read that second chapter, and then see what I can do about it.

You're Bad, Muriel.

Okay, so I'm a Chldren's Pastor, right? I'm supposed to love all things young and short, right? If it's under the age of 10, I'm just supposed to minister, and understand, and be patient, and rejoice in planting Jesus seeds, right?

Hmm.

Could be losing my mojo.

We took a mini-vacation into Chicago this past week. It was more for the kids, because there was really nothing relaxing about it, except for the 5 hours of sleep that my wife and I got. We drove in, went to the Shedd Aquarium, stayed in a hotel, swam in the pool. You know...vacation stuff. It was fun, the kids thought it was a blast. We decided to end the vacation with a trip to the LegoLand Store in Shaumburg.

--ALERT--

Incredibly overpriced. Cool concept, big things built out of LEGOs, but really pretty expensive for playing with LEGOs and a lame EPCOT-wannabe ride. Just sayin'.

--ALERT--

So. Fam's in the LEGO cafe. There's a play structure in one corner, with a slide, and those cubes that look like mini jails stacked on one another. Some poor kid was on the top one with the mesh net and the plastic bubble window, carving tally marks into the safety foam with a pin from his glasses. Other kids were running, shoeless and parentless, around the outside, up the cubes, down the slide and around again. Our kids' eyes looked at Courtney and I, wide with anticipitory excitement, and we both said, "Okay, go play. Be careful! Have fun!"

All that was left were clouds in the shape of our kids, like the Road Runner.

We sat near, to keep an eye, and an Asian lady sat next to us to do the same. We both noticed her kids, insanely cute, were being blocked by another boy. They were trying to get past to ride the slide, but this boy was blocking the way.

We'll call him "Malachi". You know, from Children of the Corn?

Malachi blocked the way, but then actually grabbed one of the Asian kids and was shaking her. Malachi's about, oh, 7 or 8, and wee little Asian girl about, oh, 5. Her mom got up and told the boy politely to stop, but there was an obvious language barrier.

Asian to English, not adult to 8 year old.

When he did it again, I got up this time. Not my kid, not my place, I'm on vacation. But I got up nevertheless and got the kid's attention, and in my best "stern Dad voice", I said, "Quit it. NOW." Malachi looked back at me, like the Dilophosaurus looked at Nedry in Jurassic Park, head cocked with an "I wonder if I spat poison in his eye he'd be good to eat", and then ran off.

Malachi kept terrorizing. I told an employee. The employee talked to him, and Dilophosaurus-Malachi did the same thing, only this time, I think I did see a bit of green poison vomit splat on "Hello, My Name Is Jeff"'s glasses. The reprimand didn't stop Malachi, didn't even slow him down.

Then he started blocking MY kids. I was really getting hot, and all I could think of was finding this kid's parents and reading them the Riot Act, along with a few choice Scriptures. But then, oh then, Faithful Reader, God smiled on us all.

Malachi went down the tube slide and stayed at the bottom, trying to block whomever came down next. Ethan, MY Ethan, my wonderfully sweet boy, comes flying down the slide, feet-first, and nails Malachi square in the back hard enough to make his stomach arch out and sprawl off the slide a good four feet. Ethan didn't do it on purpose, but if he did, I would've given him a trophy.Malachi stood up, looking wildly around, holding his back, and with tears in his eyes, ran off to his mommy.

I'm not quite sure, but I think I heard a collective "Huzzah!" from inside the jail cubes, and kids emerged, sheilding their eyes from lack of exposure to the florescent bulbs, and then Asians of all sizes hoisted Ethan up on their shoulders, heralding him as King of the LegoLand Playstructure.

I might of made that last bit up, but I have a real question. Am I a bad person for thinking that was the best thing that could've happened? Am I not fit for kid's ministry because I secretly wanted Malachi to have an accident?

I hate to admit it, but I leaned over to Courtney and said, "That was the best thing that could've happened."

My finger hurts.

Have you ever gotten a hangnail on the side of, say, your left ring finger, and tried to pull it off only to succeed in pulling in down into the skin on the side of your fingernail? Then you try to bite it off, and only get a piece of it, while there still a small sliver still attached deep in there? It's not so bad right at the beginning, but then it gets red and irritated, and you still haven't gotten that little piece out, and a Band-Aid won't help, because now ANY pressure that's put on the side makes it throb even more?

My finger hurts.

It even hurts to type, but hey, that's how dedicated I am to my eight faithful followers.

Blog through the pain, my pappy always used to say.

At any rate, I feel as though everything on this blog needs to be profound; needs to be a nugget of truth that people are simultaneously inspired and confounded by. It's with this mandate that I sit, gingerly typing without my left ring finger.

And I got nuthin'.

No inspiring words, no quips with quibbles quaint, no Good-Lord-This-Man-Is-A-Genius solutions. I have a feeling that this blog post is going to end like The Happening did the other night, with a, "....and...it's over? You've GOT to be kidding me..." and then some cursing.

So, to pass the time before you get to the abrupt end, I figured I'd make a list of what's on my mind right now.

- I'm meeting with a group called "The Think Tank" tonight, and it's basically the highlight of my month. I'm getting ready to get inspired, to think deep thinks, and solve the world's problems.

- I'd love to go on a vacation, but I'm hesitant for a couple of reasons. I'm not sure how my 1 year old will travel, and I'm not sure how I will travel. I like my house, I just don't want people to know I'm there.

- I've written several more Memory Verses, but I have to figure out a way to make them more effective in the service. Repeat them, maybe, the next week or two? I should write them down and keep them separate, too. My daughter was singing a song that I had totally forgotten I'd written.

- It bothers me that there are 4 times as many handicapped parking spots as there are handicapped people.

- Some of my favorite words? Kiosk. Slacks. Gobsmacked. Truncated. Maybe it's the hard "k" sound. But then again, I don't like the word "killer", especially when used as an adjective. Then again again, maybe I just don't like surfers.

- Everyone should read Dave Barry.

- Lastly, before I forget, and this is the most important thing, don't ever forget to...

Faith Kids Blue on iTunes!! FINALLY!

It's up! It's here! It's Blue, and it can be yours for the low, low price of .99 cents per song!

I heart iTunes.

Alright, people. Let's sell this thing. If you liked RED and YELLOW, BLUE is going to rock your socks off. And I mean, literally off. Have slippers handy.

Down at the bottom of the page is a link to iTunes, with all of the songs. Want just one? You can buy them individually. Want the whole album?? You can do that too!

This post is going on Facebook as well. Let's get the word out!!

She's 8.

She's been on Planet Earth for 8 years.

There are signs, though, that we're doing it right. She wanted file folders and pencils for her Birthday presents. She wanted Giordono's pizza for her Birthday dinner. She wants to see Monsters Vs. Aliens for her Birthday party.

Honestly, all things that either Courtney and I would want for our own birthdays.

When does it really hit you, though? It hasn't hit me yet. Everyone says, "Oh, time flies. You'll blink and she'll be 16. Blink again and you'll be walking her down the aisle." It hasn't happened yet with me. I've enjoyed all of the time so far. It hasn't passed too quickly or too slowly. It has just passed. I've loved every step of the way, the good, the bad, the hard, the fun, the hilarious...and there has been a LOT of hilarious...

And now she's 8. And I can't wait to see what kind of 8 year old she's gonna be. If it's anything like 7, or 6, or 5, or 4, or 3, or 2, or 1, it's going to be incredible.

The One List To Rule Them All

There are so many things I want to do. The list is HUGE. I'm guessing that all of us have such a list. Our In Box is constantly and consistently full. The more we accomplish the more we have to do.

So, here's my list. I'm going to write it down, honest and clear, and see how many I can cross off in 2009.

My wife thinks I don't have goals. Hah. Here it is, without reservation or order of importance. The first few probably have to do with where I'm typing this and what I'm looking at.

1. Finish off our basement
2. Grade our backyard
3. Buy the lot next to our house
4. Get to know the kids in our neighborhood
5. Let other people teach on a Sunday Morning
6. Play golf somewhere other than Illinois
7. Teach and train Children's Workers at another church
8. Write a show based on the Memory Verses
9. See that show performed
10. Record a Praise and Worship CD wih the kids
11. Create a business and marketing plan for Faith Kids Club
12. Take our family on a REAL vacation
13. Buy bikes for Courtney and I, so we can go for rides in our neighborhood
14. Teach at a conference
15. Compile and distribute a curriculum based on the Memory Verse CD's
16. Teach chapel at 5 schools
17. Take a business trip and fly first class
18. Write a book (thanks, Courtney)

I realize that most of these have to do with work...but I'm finding that a lot of what I'm drawn to is teaching and training and instructing and performing outside the church. Is it because I think I have something to say, that people would actually listen? Is it because I want people to think I'm cool, and talented?

No. I really think it's because I believe kids will like it. I love it when kids learn. I love that feeling of finding a way to teach a kid something where they understand it. Taking someone without knowledge and teaching, showing, displaying in some fashion to where they get it. Where they really get it.

I don't want to hear about the next big thing, I want to write the next big thing.

So...anyone know someone who can drywall?

Crystal Skulls Make Me Angry.

I could just spit.

Last night I sat with my bride and watched "Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull", which should win the award for the longest title ever.

It should also win the award for biggest suck-fest of 2008. Sean Connery was the best thing about that movie, and he was a picture on a desk. Not even Shia LaBeouf riding up (see Marlon Brando in Easy Rider) on a morotcycle, hat tilted, could make an impact. I laughed out loud.

When they first cut open the cocoon holding the alien...THE ALIEN...IN AN INDIANA JONES MOVIE, AN ALIEN...I looked at my bride and said, ".....really?"

I raised my eyebrows in disbelief when the "natives" came out of the ground and started fighting Karate-style (see The Rundown).

I put my head in my hands when the big CG ants swarmed (see the scarab beetles from The Mummy) and ate the guy alive.

I sat through almost 2 hours of this ridiculous premise, watching Indy survive a NUCLEAR BLAST by being tossed around in a lead lined refridgerator (see nuclear fallout kills you anyway), Cate Blanchett with a horrible wig and an even worse accent (see Natasha from Bullwinkle), the awesome guy who played Boers from King Arthur with Clive Owen reduced to saying "Jonesy" at the beginning of every line, Shia LaBeouf HAVING MONKEYS SHOW HIM HOW TO SWING FROM VINES TO CATCH UP WITH A SPEEDING CAR...

That's it. I'm so angry right now. I want George Lucas and Steven Spielberg to come to my house and apologize. I want them to build me a time machine so I can travel back and relive those two hours shaving my uncle's back hair, because that would be more enjoyable that watching this movie.

And while he's on his knees grovelling for my forgiveness, Mr. Lucas can apologize for the dialogue in the Star Wars movies. Hold me like you held me on Naboo? Are you SERIOUS?

What cuts deep is that Indiana Jones is iconic. One of those characters that is basically immortal. The hat, the whip, the satchel, the half-smirk when sneaking away with the idol.

ARGH.

Spielberg and Lucas may as well stood on my front lawn and egged my house.

If there is ANY, and I mean ANY buzz about doing another Indy movie with Shia LaBeouf...I...I can't even continue that thought. I have to go now.

Just pray that I don't go postal on the Skywalker Ranch.

Cleaning = Hell.

What is it about it that I can't stand?

It's not like I like clutter. I don't, in fact. Don't like it at all. But it seems like the hatred for the clutter doesn't outweigh the hatred for picking it up.

Is anyone else like that? Of the massive amount of readers to this blog...I'm just wonderin', thinking out loud, here. Anyone else just walk past the toys, and the papers, and the pencil on the floor, or the LEGO block on the stairs, or the glass on the nightstand, or the wrappers on your desk?

Don't get all holy on me. I'm not a pig, but I'm not a neat-freak, either. I enjoy when things are picked up, everything in its place, a clean slate from which to work. But getting there. UGH. Maintaining it. DOUBLE UGH.

I type this as I'm sitting among the clutter in my office at work. It's a pigsty in here. How I function, I don't know. I probably spend more time looking for things, OR, the bigger kicker, buying new things when I can't find the one I have.

Ever done THAT one before? You end up with three letter openers. Or fifteen screwdrivers.

Ugh. Just ugh. I know I have to do it. But it feels like I should be doing more important things. There are children that need saving, and sermons that need writing, and videos that need editing, and lives that need changing. I can't be picking up old Kleenex boxes and cutouts of hearts and jars of Play-Doh and old phone message notes.

I say this as I look at the pile (mile) of clothes that are still here from last month when I changed for basketball.

I'm starting a new ministry of the Children's Department. The P.A.C.C.A..

The Pastor Adam's too lazy to Clean up his own Crap Association.

I'm now accepting members. There's a a small fee.

Rufus Xavier Sassparilla Is My Friend

I found an article on Group's Children's Ministry Magazine website. An incredible website, to be sure, full of inspiration and explosive creativity. I get encouraged often by what I read on this site, and today was no different. Check out this blurb from the article:

"When a person memorizes something that is put to music, it is stored in the subdominant hemisphere of the brain, where emotions and creativity take place. This information is permanently stored and easy to retrieve when sung," says Jan Bedell, a certified master neurodevelopmentalist, plus founder and president of Little Giant Steps, a company that helps people build accelerated learning abilities. "It's been observed that information that is memorized to music lasts the longest and is the last to be forgotten. Even Alzheimer's patients can often retrieve songs from their childhood when other information has been lost."

I knew that music was an incredible learning tool. Think Schoolhouse Rock. Conjunction Junction? What's the function of a conjunction? Hooking up words and phrases and clauses. It's embedded.

That's what I want for the Faith Kids CD's. Years later, I want adults able to recall Scripture because they sung it off of the album. In Children's Church, what is it that you remember the most? An object lesson? The teacher?

Chances are its the songs you sung. About Zaccheus. About all the little children of the world. About Abraham and his many sons. About how Jesus loves you, for the Bible told you so. Do YELLOW and RED and BLUE do that?

I think so. My son was standing, playing the Wii, mindlessly singing a song - as kids do - without even knowing he was singing. The song? "Don't give up...when your faith is being tested...James chapter one verse twelve..." off of RED.

Just half humming, half singing, God's Word just swimming around in his head, on his lips, in his heart. It warms mine just thinking about it. Knowing that there is a file cabinet with those lyrics and melodies in his brain.

I know it works. I know it's needed.

The question for me now is how hard to pursue.

Imagination You Can See

Can you tell me how to get to Sesame Street?

Can you tell me how to get to a place where the ideas in your head show up on a screen?

Can you tell me how to get from thought to the physical manifestation of that thought?

I look at Sesame Street and I see imagination. I see physical things that started as ideas, or dreams. I am watching one (or a few, now) man's ideas completed. Start to finish.

Can someone tell me how to get there? My biggest problem is getting from idea-in-head to idea-in-hand. I have, at last count, 1,268 ideas a day. Of those 1,268 ideas, I'd say about 1% of them actually get finished. Actually get from inside my head to in front of my eyes.

Is it about time? Is it a work ethic issue? Is it about ability? No, I don't think so.

I think it's about control.

See, when you have an idea, or a thought, or a mental invention, it's yours. Yours. No one else can see, REALLY, exactly what it is. You can explain it, you can draw it, you can spell it out, but it's like trying to describe a dream you had last night to someone else.

No, it was like a floating disk, and I was standing on it, and there were these people all around, but they really weren't PEOPLE, they were more like animals, and the next thing I knew I was in my house, but it wasn't really my house, but I KNEW it was my house...

Um. What?

YOU can see it, but they can't. It's your brain. It's the movie in your mind. Same goes for ideas. They're yours, and most often, the fight is to get that idea into physical form, and even THEN, sometimes it's not exactly how you envisioned it. And you want me to let other people do it?

Are you insane?

It's about control. And I've found that releasing that control is the key to getting ideas from my head into my hand. No, it's not exactly how I would do it, that line is a little crooked, that color is a little off, that could've been acted better...but you know what?

It's in my hand now.

It's not in my head any more. For creative people, I think it's so important to fight for your ideas, but on the flip side of that, I believe that it's equally important to not let "credit" drive "control". I'm pretty opinionated, and have no problem expressing that opinion; but I'm now learning that I don't need to be the one to do everything. In fact, the few things that I've let go of have turned out better than I could've ever hoped, or better than if I would've done them myself.

So, how do you get to Sesame Street?

By being okay with someone else's hand in your puppet.

The Latest from Faith Kids!!

Check it out! Faith Kids BLUE, the latest Memory Verse album from Adam Walsh!

For some reason, the player won't fit in the space...hmm...

But hey, I'm just thrilled I can post it to my blog!! What?!?!

Free Swim

To say that I love being around creative people is a bit of an understatement.

There's just something about them. Ideas, possibilities, discussions, thoughts, all slung against a wall to see which ones are sticky. It's the only true limitless art form. Sculptors are bound by how much clay. Musicians are bound by 12 tones.

But the mind. The mind is truly limitless. That's a bit of God's ubiquitousness that one can fathom. (Yeah, go look it up.) When comprehending God's limitlessness, you can't really do it. It's not something you can wrap your brain around. But thinking in terms of possibility...you can get a sense of just how far the rabbit hole goes.

I had heard about a group of literary guys in England that had Tolkein and C.S. Lewis in it, bringing ideas and discussing books. My first thought was, how stinkin' cool is THAT? I found a blurb on about The Inklings.

"The Inklings were a gathering of friends – all of them British, male, and Christian, most of them teachers at or otherwise affiliated with Oxford University, many of them creative writers and lovers of imaginative literature – who met usually on Thursday evenings in C.S. Lewis’s and J.R.R. Tolkien’s college rooms in Oxford during the 1930s and 1940s for readings and criticism of their own work, and for general conversation. “Properly speaking,” wrote W.H. Lewis, one of their number, the Inklings “was neither a club nor a literary society, though it partook of the nature of both. There were no rules, officers, agendas, or formal elections.” An overlapping group gathered on Tuesday (later Monday) mornings in various Oxford pubs, usually but not always the Eagle and Child, better known as the Bird and Baby, between the 1940s and 1963. These were not strictly Inklings meetings, and contrary to popular legend the Inklings did not read their manuscripts in the pub."

Got me thinking about the Think Tank. It's a group that I'm a part of, splashing around in the idea pool. Right now, it's for Faith Kids. Things are changing right before my eyes, ministry, technique, media. People are getting involved where there was no opportunity to before. Ideas are planted, nutured, picked and handed out. Granted, we've only just begun (white lace and promises) but the possibilities of the Think Tank are staggering.

The possibility of the possibilities. Now that's deep. :)

So, I'm wondering. Do you have such a group? Doesn't have to be for writing epic novels...or for changing the face of Children's Ministry globally. Could be just for cooking quick meals for your rushed family. Could be a book discussion club. Could be the I.B. of T.K.D.

That's the International Benefits of Tae Kwan Do, to the commoner.

Bicycling Enthusiasts. Blueprint Collectors. Germans United Against Barney. Do you have a group of men or women that challenge and inspire you? Do you have what I like to call "below the surface" friends?

Hear me, it's NOT an accountablilty group. Didja pray today, Bob? How's your thought life, Gary?

No, this is something inspiring, not invasive. It's building up, not barging in. Find a passion, find others who share that passion, and sit and talk about it.

Heck, why do you think Star Trek Conventions are still around? Comicon is one of the largest gatherings of like-minded people on the planet. Grown men in Jedi robes. Silly to you, but passionate and inspirational to them.

Go. Find. Stir. Drink.

It's good for you.

Copy Cats

Quit copying me.

The cry of every older sibling. Slightly beside and behind them is a smaller version of them, slyly watching every move. Arm goes up, throat clears, legs are crossed at the ankles, lean over just a bit on the arm of the couch.

Quit it!

What? I'm not doing anything. Head tilted a little, chin on hand.

It's funny when you're the younger one, which I was (am), but if you're the elder, it gets old pretty quick. The saying "Imitation is the highest form of flattery" is lost in translation. The desire for sicofantic followers goes away. The days of wishing you had a slave to order around are past.

It's just annoying. And fun, if you're the mimic-er. Not so much as the mimic-ee.

Now I'm a dad. Talk about living under a microscope. I've noticed my kids, especially Ethan, copy exactly what I do. He watches me walk, watches me eat, watches me play the Wii, watches me as I watch TV.

I was walking along side him outside one day, and spit. Guess what he did.

"Just had to spit, Dad? Me too."

He wants to be like me so bad. But there are things about me that I don't want him to be like.

Isn't that pretty much what we want from our kids? Everything good, nothing bad. I've even prayed that prayer. Lord, I pray that they get everything good from me and nothing bad. But the truth is that they get everything.

Everything. All of it, the good, the bad and the ugly. All of our inconsistencies, all of our moods, all of our hangups. As a parent, you basically have to raise them to be partly not you.

Better than you.

Words are lost, actions scream. They're copy cats, watching us. I can't tell my daughter to stop pointing out everyone's mistakes when I constantly correct her. I can't tell my son not to hit right after I smack him with a pillow. Think about it. It's so cute when your baby mimics you, your crazy faces, a little dance, but the second he makes a face and shows his food to the booth next to you at T.G.I. Friday's, you're horrified.

We celebrate when our kids are pottie training and they poop in the pottie with candy, balloons, sticker charts and prizes, but as soon as they get into school, "Poop" is a bad word.

In order for our kids to learn peace, patience, kindness, gentleness and the like it's not a matter of prayer.

It's a matter of living it ourselves, in front of them to see.

A Good Day

Yesterday was a good day.

I taught the kids about patience, what to do when you are standing in front of your little brother who is in between you and Zach and Cody, and you're watching your patience run the other direction.

I felt inspired teaching, stepped away from what I had written, and spoke to the kids where they were living. I was funny and entertaining, and I wrote a new killer Memory Verse that the kids LOVED.

I say all of that to say this:

I'm tired.

It takes a lot out of you to be plugged in, engaged, "on". It takes a lot out of you to perform two shows Sunday morning, only to come back in the evening for a small group for 1st and 2nd grade girls.

I've found that it makes me crabby. Ethan, finish your dinner.

There is light at the end of the tunnel, however. Last night I witnessed something I haven't witnessed in the entire time I've been doing Children's Ministry. I saw the kids, all of them, 40+ kids, having an insanely fun time.

Without me.

Is it possible? Can it be done?? Is there anything that the kids will think is cool with Adam???

Apparantly so; and I'm so stinkin' excited about that prospect I could spit. However, along with the excitement comes a few questions.

How will I mentor and guide and lead these people, these incredible leaders? Will I have the knowledge to set them up to succeed, or will I just dump on them? Will I place them in position too soon? Will they get burned out because I pushed them too far? Once they're in position, what will I do? How long will they be here?

Time to pray. Time to read. Time to study. Time to learn. Because God knows that I don't know enough about leadership to handle these guys properly. This is God's directing, God's timing, and I do NOT want to mess this up. I have a feeling that this opportunity won't come around again.

Yes, yesterday was a good day. Here's to hoping tomorrow is a great one.

Atmosphere Is Key

I was reading a gaming magazine (research, I SWEAR, honey) and the editor, as most editors do, gave a bit of a blurb at the front, a "From The Desk" note. In it, he described the games of 2008, separating the bad from the good, and the good from the REALLY great. The one thing that sets the impressive games apart from the not-so, he offered, was due to one thing.

ATMOSPHERE.

If the game can transport you, enwrap you, and keep you submersed in a totally different atmosphere, where you lose your sense of surrounding (and time, if you've ever played Final Fantasy), then you'll most likely find it on every Top Ten list for games in 2008.

And, as most things do, it got me thinking.

Atmosphere. The surrounding. I guess it shouldn't surprise me that atmosphere is probably the most important thing. You can't be creative, peaceful, focused, relaxed, enraptured without the right atmosphere.

How many times have you sat down to accomplish some task and it just doesn't feel right?

Atmosphere.

How many times have you gone to see a movie that got terrible reviews, and like, 15% on Rotten Tomatoes, and you had an awesome time because of the people you were with and the crowd? Paul Blart, anyone?

Atmosphere.

In college, I got the best grade in composition class on a piece where we could only pick four notes and one instrument to write a whole piece. I figured, since I was limited by the notes and the instrument, there was nothing in the rules that said I couldn't manipulate the environment. So, I wrote a piece for piano about the crucifixion, turned out the lights in the classroom, lit candles, had someone read passages from Matthew as I slammed the lid to the piano to mimic the nails being hammered into Christ's hands. I got an A.

Atmosphere.

So, should it be any different for ministry? Isn't that what we are striving for, an atmosphere conducive for healing? For restoration? For peace? For the Holy Spirit to work, and move, and do His thing?

If you're having problems, change the atmosphere. Music works best. Different scenery works second best. If you're frustrated in your current place, move. It doesn't have to be to a different state in the union, either. It can just be to a different state of mind.

Atmosphere. Man, that's a big revelation. I think I'll start doing that.

Okay, More Discipline.

It's not like I'm not disciplined.

I am, I swear.

I just feel as though it's time to be more disciplined. Especially about writing, reading, studying. Don't get me wrong, I do all three things routinely, week in and week out; but mostly it's for something. A sermon, a lesson, research, etc.

I rarely do anything for myself, just to do it.

So, here it is. My blog. My personal thoughts, my ideas, my observations. My wife kept telling me that I needed to start a blog, so here it is, in all it's glory. I'm actually wondering how many blogs started in the exact same fashion that this one is...

At any rate, it's started. And the first thought for this inevitably popular blog?

I really hope I can say something profound.