skymall, you never cease to amaze me.

…and other airport/airplane reflections from our recent trip to mexico:

1. Cinnabon, you’re the devil. smelling up the place like that is soooooooo unfair.

2. wearing sanitary masks in the airport might be the healthy thing to do, but do you realize how weird you look? i mean, why not just dress up like the scary guys from Outbreak?

3. apparently working the Ben & Jerry counter at the airport across from the Cancun gate can make a person really cranky. i guess i understand that, but at least put up a sign or something. “i’m in a bad mood because you’re going to a beach and i’m not. now shoo.”

4. Memo to DFW: did you realize that there’s a major highway running directly through your airport? was there not enough room in the north texas desert for both of you?

5. if you are an airport with free wi-fi (eh hum, Little Rock), you and i are friends for life. if you’re name is Boingo, we will never, ever, ever be friends.

6. Skymall, you never cease to amaze me. truck antlers?! genius!

7. i’m 6′4″. the female security guard who “wanded” me wasn’t even 4′ tall. i hope somebody got that on camera.

8. who thought it was a good idea to make a plane-full of americans fill out customs forms that were entirely in spanish? again, please tell me someone got that on camera.

9. when forced to choose between catching up on my seminary homework or reading Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Percy won. i mean, he’s a demi-god…that’s kinda theological, right?

10. in-flight movies? good idea. Deal or No Deal reruns with Suze Orman promos interspersed? bad idea. what’s a guy gotta do for some “Paul Blart Mall Cop”?

11. Suze Orman has really white teeth…really white teeth.

yes, i am from america-land

so allison and i just got back from a celebratory trip to the foreign land of mexico. there will certainly be a number of posts on both of our blogs regarding the events that happened in and around that trip. in the meantime, however, is a short list that i composed entitled, “How To Give Away That You are An American.” i’ll confess that during our trip, i was guilty of one (wait, no) TWO of these things…but i assure you, just two of them.

HOW TO GIVE AWAY THAT YOU ARE AN AMERICAN

1. walk around the airport in hot pink crocs that have flowers on them.

2. act really surprised and annoyed when the poolside waiter tells you that they don’t have any Sprite Zero. then have your wife back you up and have a conversation with her in front of said waiter about how unusual it is that there’s no Sprite Zero. then make a plea for any variety of Sprite (of which the waiter has already made known there is none of).

3. wear a baseball hat.

4. when you get there, walk out of the airport with an open beer in one hand and the rest of the 6 pack in the other, and then ask your wife where the kids are.

5. be a male in a swimsuit that covers at least half your thigh.

6. talk loudly all the time.

7. impress yourself with how much spanish vocab you still remember from high school.

8. get really, really excited about the amount of duty-free cigarettes, alcohol and jewelry you can purchase before exiting the country.

9. crazy headgear of all varieties, such as (but not limited to) visors and large straw-hats, usually involving some combination of flourescent colors.

like i said, we were guilty of some of this, but just some! more reflections to come about our time away from america-land.

new kid on the block

you’ll have to excuse me while i blow the dust off things ’round here. it’s been a little slow for any of you interested in the life and times of bradherndon.wordpress.com. part of the reason is that our computer has been hogged recently by the blogosphere’s newest celebrity—allison herndon, aka my hottie-boom-bottie. she’s been whipping out her posts in a crazy and restless fashion. if you want to see what type of hilarious wit i get to be around daily, or if you’ve got a hankering for some cornbread, or if just want to laugh at the misadventures of our little ones, head on over to theyellowdesk.wordpress.com. in fact, bookmark it and check back daily, because i can almost guarantee she’ll have a few dozen posts up before my next one.

mrs. jones’s plan to shut down the penitentiaries

this morning my car made a turn it doesn’t usually make. for 5 years i worked out of a church office that backed up to a nursing care facility. yet my only exposure to that nursing home was seeing an occasional worker sitting on the back steps for a smoke break. at the recent urging of a friend, i pulled up in the front of this home, where i sat nervously in my parked car for a few moments watching the rain fall on my windshield. moments later, my right hand was being grasped Mrs. Jones, an eighty, maybe ninety-something year old woman who was slouched in her wheel chair in a crowded hallway.

“you know why i wanted to hold your hand?” she asked.

“no, why?” i leaned in closer.

“because i like boys.”

i laughed curiously and asked if i could sit down next to her. for the next hour we talked about her grown boys and the pains of being old. her head was held up by a brace. every few minutes her eyes squeezed out tears from pains in her shoulder. i listened as best i could to her soft, weak voice trying as hard as she could to talk over the noise of the hallway–nurses yelling back and forth, other patients wheeling themselves past us, one worker cleaning the floors.

i spoke up over the noise. “i’ve got two kids myself. we just dropped my daughter off at school for the first time.”

“your heart must be pounding.” (she was 60 years older than me, but she hadn’t forgotten the nerves that come with being a parent.) “what grade is she in?” she asked.

“well, she’s actually in preschool.”

she was silent for a moment. “why does she need to go to preschool?”

i’ve heard this disapproving tone before. moms and grandmothers are perfect at it. i didn’t know how to respond.

“well, it’s just one day a week.”

“oh, well that’s okay. i was about to have to frown at you. parents don’t give their kids enough of their time these days. if they did, we wouldn’t need prisons.”

our time was filled with more advice for me as a parent, mostly things that would shut down the penitentiaries. but after hearing i worked for a church, she gave me a new set of suggestions.

“you go to your groups and get them to spend some money to build us old people some better places to live. and then you bring back some more young people like you to visit us. it’d do you some good.”

but my favorite advice from this witty, wise, frail woman was just before i left.

“tonight you get on your knees with that little girl of yours, and you say your prayers with her. keep ‘em short so she can remember them.  you pray for that old lady, and be sure you say that, okay? ‘that old lady’– but in your prayer, tell your little girl that the old lady is actually God’s little girl. because i am. you got that?”

a few minutes later, i left Mrs. Jones where i found her. before i could get up she grasped my hand again.

“i told you earlier i like boys. i like kissing ‘em too.” she leaned in and kissed my left cheek with her delicate lips. “you tell your wife and your little girl that i already gave you some sugar on that cheek today, but they can have the other.”

moments later i was back in my car watching the rain fall on the windshield. i cornered God in that moment, confessing that i too easily and frequently read past scripture’s call to “look after orphans and widows.” all i could do was thank God for Mrs. Jones and for pulling my car into that parking lot this morning.

this ain’t no 29 cent goldfish

this guy was a whole $4! welcome the newest member of the herndon household, harry potter herndon, already dressed in bows by lucy.

(view the whole experience here)

edge pics / 06.19.2009

Austin Walker is a guy i first met while paddling a canoe down the buffalo river. turns out, he knows his way around a camera too, so we had him run around stage during rehearsal a couple weeks ago. here are some of his shots, check out some more here, or his other work here. (btw, don’t ever store your sack lunch in Austin’s canoe. let’s just say he’s better with a camera then he is with a paddle…but he’ll keep you laughing the whole way down the river for sure!).

back on campus, sort of.

a little while ago i thrust myself upon the academic frontier once again. as i type that, i grimace a tad. here’s why.

as if all that going back to school involves isn’t enough to hold you back, there’s a growing discussion in parts of the church world as to the necessity of graduate degrees in the ministry field. some church leaders might say that seminaries are failing to equip pastors for practical, day to day ministry. in fact, many effective, respectable, well-led churches will actually avoid hiring individuals who happen to have any sequence of letters after their name. i’ve been influenced by such pastors/leaders of these churches who equate seminary with cemetery (it always gets a laugh from congregations). the argument is quite simple. they cite the academic credentials of Jesus, who had no degree from U of Bethlehem to his name, and yet led a movement of love upon the backs of uneducated fisherman, a movement that is still shaking the foundations of our world. no hermeneutics classes. no theology. no textbook-led spiritual formation. just some people with huge hearts for God and their world.

so for years (almost a decade in fact), i’ve avoided the thought of adding any formal supplement to my under-exhausted BA in Communication/Journalism from the prestigious Truman State Univ (go bulldogs). and yet, throughout that time i’ve felt a desire to plant my feet more firmly in the soil of the Church. this type of desire and commitment causes one to seriously weigh his or her abilities, longevity and even passion. the logical step of going on to school to get more training (a common endeavor in most fields) was obstructed with the general reputation of seminaries as academic institutions full of old men and their dusty books offering answers to questions that no one is asking. whether that’s a fair picture or not, it can easily be supported by individuals who enlist themselves in those schools and then find themselves irrelevant to the sunday morning masses (and the greater world) with their new found knowledge.

fast forward through a few years of curiosity, prayer and maturing.

i knew it was time for me to do something. as a leader in a church as well as someone wanting to be more like Jesus, i felt a lacking of tools and perspectives for the path i was on. the last thing i wanted to do was anything that might put my faith in danger of drying up or becoming irrelevant. in the end, i was surprised to find seminary as an eager next step in my path. this surprise was coupled with an excitement due to how many schools are out there that are aware of their decaying reputation, and so are proactively partnering with churches and leaders to prepare men and women for the task of changing our world.

so i’m in. i once again get to save a buck every time i go to the movies (while not the primary joy of my seminary journey, it’s definitely a big one). i’m not moving, quitting my job or anything crazy like that. i’m continuing what i’m doing, while in school at the same time—i believe this will make the most of my education. i am already relishing from professors with pockets full of experience and heart. i’m processing these lessons in my daily church life with the people around me. and i’m journeying with fellow students in various settings all across the US (one or two beyond in fact). saturday i was studying for a test. the topic? getting the most out of reading the bible.

i’m sure this new dimension of my life will leak into the stories you read here.

what, oh what, could be on its way to my doorstep?

make haste Mr. FedEx man.

i don’t usually dance. mostly for the safety of everyone…

a few nights ago, my 5 month old son was having trouble sleeping, which in turn meant that our whole house was having trouble sleeping. it was my turn to get up, so i crawled out of bed and stumbled through the dark hallway into his room. after a few moments, i realized that all of the tricks i had acquired as a young father weren’t going to get him to fall back asleep. the only thing left to do was to pick him up from his crib and hold him on my shoulder, hoping he might calm down. over the next fifteen minutes or so i carried him around his room in what became a sort of waltz—an intimate and peaceful dance between father and son. as we swayed back and forth, a lyric in a song we’ve sung in church came to mind. it’s a lyric that is a beautiful portrayal of God’s love, but it’s one that i’ve sung without really being able to grasp the meaning of until that evening.

“you dance over me, while i am unaware. you sing all around and i haven’t heard a sound. Lord i’m amazed by you, how you love me.”

i was telling allison about this the next morning. she said it reminded her of a scripture verse from the old testament book of zephaniah (i’m not one that can usually recall verses from obscure parts of the bible off the top of my head, but my wife is, which is why i married her…). ” zephaniah 3:17:   “The Lord your God is with you. He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.”

He will take great delight in you. He will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.

as i enjoyed that late-night dance with my son, i realized that even in our most unaware moments (which can be most of the time), we are immersed in the depths of God’s love. it’s a love that rejoices over us in dancing, that delights in us, that quiets us. it’s a love that sings over us. it’s nothing that we’ve done—our role in this picture is that of an unaware, helpless infant content upon the shoulder of a father. as in the case with my son, the joy and pride i feel for him is simply because he is mine.

family night at the herndon house

come on over to the wagon wheel next thursday night and you can join the fun. we’ll even give you your own diaper. seriously, if that’s not good times, what is??