So today I’m wearing a Cowboys windbreaker.  Underneath that is a Cowboys jersey–injured quarterback Tony Romo, to be precise.  Underneath that is a Cowboys t-shirt.  Underneath that is just my linebacker bod.  Okay, more like a desk jockey bod, but that’s not the point.  I’ve crowned it all with a pretty sharp Dallas Cowboys hat.  And I am not ashamed.

A fan should be a fan at all times, through good and bad.  My family (on Mom’s side, at least) have been Cowboys fans for 50 years.  We’ve seen the good and bad.  I grew up in Redskins country when the Cowboys went 1-15.  I enjoyed the Super Bowl years with Emmitt, Aikman, and Irvin.  And now they really stink and just fired their coach.  (Their biggest problem, of course, is their owner–but that’s a different blog post altogether!)

I wore the silver, blue, and white during the great times, so why should that change now?  A day will come when they are again Super Bowl champions.  And on that day, I’ll still be wearing my Dallas gear.  What’s the point in being a fan if you’re only a fair-weather fan?  How can you truly celebrate the highs if you’re not willing to suffer through the lows?

So I’m sporting my allegiance today loud and clear.  Let there be no doubt which team my affection belongs to.

But there’s a bigger point than that.

My greatest allegiance belongs to Jesus Christ.  Right now it looks like He’s not winning the war.  If you look around at how the world seems to be falling apart, it looks doubtful that He’s going to emerge victorious in the end.  But He will!  Revelation 17:14 says: “They will wage war against the Lamb [that's Jesus], but the Lamb will overcome them because he is Lord of lords and King of kings—and with him will be his called, chosen and faithful followers.”

Did you catch that?  Jesus will triumph, “and with him will be his called, chosen and faithful followers”–that is, the ones who wear His gear through good times and bad.  I am clothed in Christ, and I am not ashamed.

When all is said and done and Jesus comes again, I want there to be no doubt whose I am.  I want it to be loud and clear that all along I’ve been clothed in Christ, layer after layer after layer, all the way from the top of my head to the bottom of my heart.  I want it to be abundantly clear at all times that Jesus Christ is my God, my Savior, and my King.

Go Cowboys… and go Jesus!!!!

I went to the local elementary school to spend some time with the second-grade boy I’m mentoring.  We went outside to kick a soccer ball around.  He’s really into soccer, and you can tell just by looking at him.  He’s got that soccer player look.

So we’re outside with a bunch of other kids, and someone kicks the ball way up in the air.  I started running toward it, and everything seemed to go into slow motion like in a movie.  I judged the arc of the ball and ran full speed toward it, excitedly preparing to give it a good whack with my head.  I even snatched off my hat with my hand in one smooth motion so I’d have nice clean contact.  As I was about to reach it, the thought crossed my mind that I hadn’t hit a soccer ball with my head since Ronald Reagan was President.  I think it dimmed my confidence.

Just as I was about to make a beautiful play, someone punched me in the eye.  At least I’m convinced that’s what happened.  It couldn’t have been the ball, ’cause I had a good bead on it.  Anyhow, the ball bounced away as about two dozen little kids looked at me in disbelief and said, “Did you just hit that ball with your eye?” and, “Didn’t that hurt?”  I tried to play it cool, but that’s hard to do when half your face is numb and you can only see out of one eye.

Guess I’ll just go watch the World Cup (with my one good eye) and leave the hitting-the-ball-with-your-head thing to the pros.  And the second-graders.

Her first baseball card was a 1991 Donruss card of former All-Star Bobby Bonilla.  I gave it to her to help her start her collection.  She promptly proceeded to bend it and chew it, as you can see below.  I sent Mr. Bonilla the card along with a note explaining its condition, and he sent it back signed for her.

With her card collection underway, I wrote to Carl Erskine, a former All-Star pitcher with the Brooklyn Dodgers.  I told him about Laura Marie, and he sent this card which he personalized for her:

Then there is Virgil Trucks, another former All-Star pitcher who is 92 years older than Laura Marie.  I sent him a picture of his youngest fan.  He sent her a baseball card and a postcard, both of them signed to her.  Mr. Trucks also wrote a note about how beautiful she is.  He suggested I might need a good bat to keep the boys away when they come calling on “this future Miss America.”

She’s off to a good start!

Next year I’m consulting Kevin before making my picks.  Or maybe I’ll consult his baby brother.

• We’re almost halfway through the series “Revealed” at CrossWay.  It’s going well, but I wish I had another two or three months to prepare for it!  Guess I’ll always feel that way.  Sermons are like paintings–it’s hard to reach a point where I can say, “It’s finished.”
• Laura Marie is eating “solid” food!  Doesn’t look that solid to me, but I guess it’s solid compared to milk.  She really likes the peas, green beans, and carrots, but the sweet potatoes seem to be her favorite so far.  It’s so cute to watch her eat with a spoon!
• I’m really pulling for a Yankees-Dodgers World Series.  That’s the classic matchup, and it hasn’t happened in 28 years.  Unfortunately the Phillies don’t seem like they’re keen on the idea.  And the Angels aren’t exactly one step away from elimination.  We’ll see.
• Cheez-its rock.  And now they have some made with whole grain, which are even better.
• Greg Cooper, the youth pastor at Ocean City Worship Center, is leaving soon to become the pastor of a church in Columbia (Maryland, not South America).  I’m sad.  Happy for Greg and his wife Heather, but sad for the community, the Worship Center, and me.  Greg is such a tremendous asset to our community.  His absence will leave a hole in our ministry to the teenagers in this area.  He’s also a lot of fun to hang out with and very encouraging.  Today we’re having our last hurrah at Plaza Tapatia, which I think is the only place we’ve ever met for lunch except for one time in D.C.  God bless you, Greg and Heather!  (Sniff sniff.)
• Autumn is totally the best.  I love the smell.  If I ever took two months off, I think I’d take all of October and November and just sit on the back porch watching the trees, drinking Vanilla-Macademia coffee, and listening to the wind.  And maybe reading a 19th-century Russian novel.
• A couple days ago I finished reading Monster by Frank Peretti.  It was really a great read.  I’d forgotten what an amazingly talented writer Peretti is.
• About a month or so ago, Carolyn and I started having a community group at our house.  We talk, pray, read the Bible (we’re going through the Gospel of Mark), and eat.  It’s wonderful.
• Speaking of Mark, I’ve been studying it for a couple months.  It’s been great to slow down and really spend time in Mark.  It’s been spiritually invigorating.

I loved my dad’s response.  He said: “Send him to a Nats game, and tell him it’s t-ball.  He’ll be surprised at how big the kids are and how well they play for that level.”

Nice one, Dad!  (I’m not sure if the second part is true, but it’s still funny.)

Her mom wasn’t so sure.  Last summer we went to a Nationals game at their new stadium, and the fans were almost as bad as the team… and that’s saying a lot.  At one point the booing got so bad that the fans booed a 12-year-old ballgirl when she booted a foul ball.  When I told Carolyn that Laura Marie could wear her Nats tee to a game this summer, she said, “You can’t take a three-month-old baby to a baseball game!  Besides, they’d probably boo her.”

Maybe I should raise her to be Phillies fan.  (Of course, you talk about mean and rowdy fans!  No offense Christi–you’re the rare exception.)  That would be strange since I’ve never been a Phillies guy myself, but Philly is as close as Baltimore or D.C., so the baby should have her pick.

Anyway, here’s the shirt: