The Final Fours in college football!

The final four teams have been named on the shores of American collegiate football. The College Football Playoff committee has ranked these four teams at the top of the FBS and seeded them in the semi-finals, played in the Rose and Sugar Bowls on January 1^st:

  Ø  #1 Clemson Tigers (12-1, champions of the ACC)

  Ø  #2 Oklahoma Sooners (12-1, champions of the Big Twelve)

  Ø  #3 Georgia Bulldogs (12-1, champs of the SEC)

  Ø  #4 Alabama Crimson Tide (11-1, SEC).

The difficult conversation for the committee came down to whether to put Alabama (with just one loss to 10-2 Auburn on the road which happened to keep them from winning the SEC) or Ohio State (champs of the Big Ten but twice losers, including a 31-point blowout at 7-5 Iowa) in that fourth spot. The consensus of the public was there was no right answer, and even USC (two-loss champs of the Pac-12) were considered. For the record, we have Clemson, Georgia, and Oklahoma all at a rating of 9 on our ELO-FOLLOWING FOOTBALL rating system, and Alabama and Ohio State the only two teams ahead of them (Alabama at 6, Ohio State at 8). So, either would have been an asset and a favorite.

In the end, Ohio State was placed fifth (and out of the playoffs), Wisconsin 6^th, Auburn 7^th, and USC 8^th. All four of those schools got major bowl games as consolation prizes: USC and Ohio State are meeting in the Cotton Bowl Dec 29, Wisconsin goes to Miami in the Orange Bowl Dec 30, Washington and Penn State meet in the Fiesta Bowl Dec 30, and Group of Five champion Central Florida (12-0 after a 62-55 barn-burner win against conference rival Memphis Saturday; the only undefeated team in FCS) plays 10-3 SEC powerhouse Auburn in the Peach Bowl on Jan 1^st. 33 other bowl games were filled with 66 other teams with winning records, exhibition games that reward the teams and their fans for a successful season. (In truth, the coaches get fifteen extra practices with those bowl invites, so they get to work with their team when their lesser rivals can’t.)

The FCS level is down to eight teams rather than four:

  Ø  James Madison (26-7 winners over fellow CAA team Stony Brook) host Weber State (30-13 winners against Big Sky rival Southern Utah).

  Ø  South Dakota State (which defeated fellow MVC Northern Iowa 37-22) plays upstart New Hampshire from the CAA (which upset Central Arkansas 21-15).

  Ø  MVC champ North Dakota State (routers of San Diego, 38-3) plays SoCon champ Wofford (conquerors of fellow Southern conference Furman 28-10).

  Ø  And Kennesaw State (which upset #3 Jacksonville State 17-7 of the OVC) defends the Big South with a battle against Southland power Sam Houston State (54-42 winners against MVC power South Dakota).

Our money is still on a James Madison defense against five-time champion North Dakota State in the final. For comparison, NDSU has a rating of 21; JMU 23. No other school is lower than 29.

We haven’t mentioned Division 2 or 3 all season, but those exist within the NCAA bounds as well for smaller, non-scholarship schools. In Division 2, Indiana of Pennsylvania hosts West Florida, and Texas A&M – Commerce hosts Harding University this weekend. And in Division 3, Mary Hardin-Baylor defends its national title against Brockport State, while 13-time champ Mount Union plays Wisconsin-Oshkosh for a change (they’ve played Wisconsin-Whitewater in the finals for something like nine years straight before last season!).

      As for our ELO-FF ratings, well, we’ve already revealed our top five. Here’s our top 25:

      1.       Alabama (rating of 6)

      2.       Ohio State (8)

      3.       Georgia, Clemson, and Oklahoma (9).

      6.       Wisconsin and Penn State (11)

      8.       Auburn (12)

      9.       Washington (13)

      10.   Stanford (16)

      11.   Oklahoma State (17)

      12.   LSC and USC (18)

      14.   TCU (19)

      15.   Notre Dame, Michigan, and the best of Group of Five, Central Florida (20)

      17.   Iowa, Miami-FL, and if you want to break the rules a mite, North Dakota State! (21)

      20.   Kansas State, Northwestern, Iowa State, Texas, Mississippi State, and Memphis (22).

In the FCS level, let’s look at our top rated teams for the year as well:

      1.       North Dakota State (rating of 21)

      2.       James Madison (23)

      3.       South Dakota State (29)

      4.       Kennesaw State, Weber State (31)

      6.       Central Arkansas (32)

      7.       Jacksonville State, Western Illinois (33)

      9.       Youngstown State, Sam Houston State (34)

      11.   Northern Iowa (35)

      12.   Illinois State, Southern Utah, Furman, Samford, Richmond, South Dakota (36)

      18.   Wofford, Montana State, and San Diego. (37)

            North Carolina A&T is the top-rated “historically black college” at 38, alone in slot #21.

This weekend’s predictions? Not much to work with…

Well, there IS the uber-traditional “Army/Navy” game, which for the first time in forever we have as a toss-up, zero points to give in either direction. (My gut says Navy’s seeking revenge for breaking The Streak – they’d beaten Army fourteen years straight.)

And there’s the FCS quarter-finals, but except for the Sam Houston State v Kennesaw State, I see double-digit margins in the neighborhood – JMU by 19, NDSU by 12, and SDSU by 16. The only reason I’m favoring Sam Houston is the fact that they’re playing their second in a row at home, and Kennesaw’s playing its second on the road: SHSU by one.

In Division II, I’m expecting a final between the two most oddly named schools: Indiana of Pennsylvania, and Texas A&M-Commerce, while in Division III, I am REALLY hoping for form to hold and produce a match between current reigning champ UMHB and perennial champ Mount Union.

Our prediction record for the year stands at 826-252, for a batting average over 76.6% for the year. We also lead the Vegas oddsmakers 250-234, and the Sagarin ratings 250-216 in accuracy. Next week, we’ll forecast all the bowl games and the lower division finals for you!

A month of thankfulness, Part Five

I want to share these posts with you, to help you consider what you are thankful for. Perhaps some are identical, perhaps some are analogous, perhaps some are completely foreign to you. But the thing that should stick with you is having an ATTITUDE of GRATITUDE, always. Just this one simple change in your life, on its own, can transform you.

Some of the details of these posts are rather personal; obviously, I'm not revealing anything i don't want to reveal. At this late stage, my life is an open book for reading and enhancement of others. But it also means there may be things which don't make sense because you don't know my background. Hopefully it will be clear enough in context, but leave a comment if there's something that's unclear, and I'll clarify. May God bless you in this season of thankfulness. 

A month of thanks. No different than any other month except that it’s on the internet. And my phone now automatically writes that text now for me.

Nov 20. I am thankful both for my innate and developed skill in writing and arranging music, marching shows, and the like, as well the software that makes them appear for my evaluation before needing to shove it at a band to discover my mistakes.

Some of my greatest joy has come from the hours and hours spent creating music and shows to entertain audiences and the ensembles which performed them (that was always a high priority for me). The introvert in me relished the twelve-hour non-stop day-into-nights when the creative came out of me. Wendy knew there was going to be stretches of time in the summer when it was best to just take the kids and go spend the day somewhere while I hunkered down over the computer and chipped away at the fall marching drill and flagwork; a similar solitude came in the winter while I created the music for the next year’s show. (And then to see and hear it all come together in October? Most of you will never know that thrill.)

In between, so many “smaller” pieces - I lost track a couple of decades back how many comps or arrangements I did, but well into the hundreds of each, at least. But then here’s the telling part: when Melissa and I formed GPS MUSIC and I started developing a catalog of music and marching shows to sell on line? I almost didn’t care if we ever sold one. (And I came close to getting that wish, unfortunately!) There was so much JOY in the creation!

Even now, just making recordings for South’s musical theatre competition piece is a thrill - when I have the strength to sit at the computer and DO it. I felt terrible I couldn’t muster Hope’s piece up for her - but I write checks with my mouth the rest of me can no longer cash. It’s sad to realize how the pipeline may be just about dry now. It was such a joyous part of my life. I hope some of my music lives on beyond me; if so, I won’t really be gone.

A month of thanks. Not so different from any other month in my life, except you, you lucky reader, get to listen in on my praises and prayers.

Nov 21. I am so thankful that despite my almost criminal lack of automotive prowess, I have had such great luck with my cars over the years.

My first car was the '64 Dodge Dart sedan with the push-button gear shift and an automatic clutch.. We also had a '64 Dodge Dart station wagon that Mom drove which had the H-column on the steering wheel shaft and the manual clutch, pedal on the floor. They looked and felt so similar that when either of us drove the other car, we'd forget it was/wasn't an automatic. Mom got to the point where she'd do the motions for BOTH cars - foot on the imaginary clutch, push the button on the dash whether it was there or not. She looked ridiculous doing it, but it worked. Those two cars had three engines that Uncle Earl would fix up and rotate through those two carcasses (CAR-casses, get it? No?). When I left Gilardi Road in 1992, I'd estimated those two cars had 750,000 miles on them; I think the wagon's still going and has 750K on it by itself now.

Then I had "Mr. Bubble". Dad found an ad that led me to buy my Impala station wagon that moved me to Idaho and ran me back and forth to Penryn and Kuna.

Wendy and I had the coolest green Neon, a couple of really useful vans, and I bought her the Karmann Ghia she still drives around occasionally. That was something I was so pleased to be able to buy for her - it's made her so happy for years, even long after the divorce.

And now, I'm driving the 2003 GMC Yukon that's running in the 240K range and still going strong with occasional oil changes and new tires every few years. Had to fix the dashboard this summer, but that's about the only "extra" money I've had to put into it. It's so dependable that I almost never even think about it. I love that car, as much as I loved that Taurus before it. Probably the last car I'll ever drive; it's a great vehicle.

A month of thanks. No different than any other month except that I get to share my prayers and praises with my internet friends. (Sure, it cuts into my prayer time in the morning. But for one month, it’s definitely worth it.)

Nov 22. I am selfishly thankful that while my twin daughters have struggled with the effects of their “bilateral spastic cerebral palsy” their whole lives (meaning both legs have erratic nerve ending messages), they have been able to lead completely normal lives, mas o menos. Sure, they’re Shriner’s kids, and we’ve done the braces and casts and shots and physical therapies and dealt with the coordination problems and all of that. But I watch the beautiful children like the youngster in the article I was just reading, or the crew of buddies I get to greet in the afternoon when I get to the HS, and I am profoundly grateful that my daughters have such a mild version of the disease.

Similarly, even though he died, it was somehow reassuring to both my first wife and I that Emerson seemed to be a perfectly normal, healthy, presumably intelligent little boy when he arrived, rather than the problems which had caused his death (remember, we knew he was dead before he made it to the outside world) being some sort of systemic issue. He “just” had an accident. Tragic but not something that prevented us from trying again.

Unfortunately, our next son, Sutherland, suffers from The Arts, a condition for which no cure is known, although constant singing, dancing, and melodramatic movement works as therapy for such hapless individuals. We also see signs in our other children of this pervasive condition, though none so deep as South’s. His Uncle Stuart (my brother) has suffered for five decades now. Please, won’t you help support this tragic condition? Write your Congressman and tell him to support a budget that provides outlets for these victims. Thank you.

A month of thankfulness, Part Four

I want to share these posts with you, to help you consider what you are thankful for. Perhaps some are identical, perhaps some are analogous, perhaps some are completely foreign to you. But the thing that should stick with you is having an ATTITUDE of GRATITUDE, always. Just this one simple change in your life, on its own, can transform you.

Some of the details of these posts are rather personal; obviously, I'm not revealing anything i don't want to reveal. At this late stage, my life is an open book for reading and enhancement of others. But it also means there may be things which don't make sense because you don't know my background. Hopefully it will be clear enough in context, but leave a comment if there's something that's unclear, and I'll clarify. May God bless you in this season of thankfulness. 

A month of thanks. No different than any other month, except the thanks are on here as well as in my prayers.

Nov 15. I am thankful for the mother of my children. Although in the last eight years she has tested the requirement I have as a Christian of "love thy neighbor as thyself" more often than anyone else, I was married to her for almost fourteen years, most of them successfully. She always had my back during those years, and was unwaveringly supportive of my career. We shared virtually all of our child-rearing philosophies, made a great team when it came to money, social life, and the like, and I've got to say, when the two of us were both in a good mood, we made the most uproarious comic duo in public or private. She was smart, funny, attractive, and with the exception of shoe purchases grounded.

And it's because of her that we have five living children who are unfailingly praised for every imaginable characteristic. Hamilton, Sutherland, Rutherford, Dorothy and Charlotte are as wonderful as I could imagine having for children; our late Emerson was just as beautiful and undoubtedly would have been everything else his siblings are as well. Her pregnancies were ferocious; she bore them (and the children) more bravely than I would have. Thank you, Wendy.

A month of thanks. It’s no different than any other month except that it’s on this blog.

Nov 16. I am thankful for the field of music education in America. Across thirty years, I was privileged to work with some of the most dedicated teachers and students the nation had to offer. Perhaps more than any other field today, music ensembles require a level of delayed gratification unseen in America. A concert, a marching show- heck, just to sound decent on an instrument takes months of practice before you can see the results. And so does success of any real kind in life.

My best friends were made through that career. Students from the 1980s are still on my FB feed. And the memories I have are many of the most treasured I have.

A month of thanks. Just like any other month, except that the thanks show up on here.

Nov 17. I’m thankful for modern medicine. I’d be dead long ago without it.

I would have gone to my grave a century ago, not knowing that conserving my exercise was the key to survival: TAM increases when the skeletal muscles are used, so unlike most doctor advice, I am NOT to stay fit to fight this disease. But without the muscle biopsy going into the electron microscope at the U of U five years ago, I’d never have known that.

And without the medicines available today to fight the pain and other symptoms, I’d be dead. Even a few days without the venlafexine knocks my gyroscope out of whack; if I’m out of pramipexorale, the spasms overwhelm my ability to sleep, and I can barely go a day without the pain meds before life is unbearable for me. It’s getting unbearable anyway, but I’d’ve been long gone without the morphine, gabapentin, and oxycodone which combine to fight the pain now.

A month of thanks. Just like any other month, except this month is sponsored by the Russians on Facebook.

Nov 18. I am thankful for all the students I’ve had the privilege of working with in my career. When I was twenty, I was helping my mother teach her band classes in Newcastle. One afternoon, she was too sick to be there, so I covered her class. (What goes around comes around - now I’m the one too sick to be in my classroom so my assistant covers for me. Funny, God. Funny.)

That particular afternoon, every child was of their father the devil - even sweet little Brandy. I was still young and terrible, not to mention a type A personality. I did a terrible job that afternoon, and it was the most miserable experience I’d yet had teaching.

As I drove home, still fuming, I felt ... really ... ALIVE. Puzzled, I went to where my mom lay in her bed, told her about the class and how I’d felt.

Her explanation has stuck with me: You feel alive because what you did *mattered*. Succeed or fail, at least you get to have the feeling that what you’re doing matters.

Which is NOT what I’d thought about working as a chemical engineering graduate from Caltech for a SoCal oil company, my assumed destination had I chosen to return there instead of staying home to care for my mom. That afternoon, after asking one question to each of my teacher-parents (“knowing what you know now, would you still have gone into teaching?” Yes.), I chose my lifelong occupation.

And it rewarded me no end. I don’t mean the handful of plaques for my work, or trophies from band contests, or even salary. I mean the literally thousands of young men and women who it has been my pleasure and privilege to instruct in life basics 101, Smith style. Oh, and an F# is second finger.

To all my kids who are no longer kids, thank you. (And I know we aren’t supposed to have favorites, but I’d take my Kuna class of ‘99 back in a heartbeat....)

A month of thanks. No different than any other month, except that it’s on this blog for a change. It’s November. Go figure.

Nov 19. I am thankful for the Internet and the worldwide media connections it creates. Because of such, I developed an interest in Japanese marching bands, the Canadian CFL, Brazilian music (and occasionally women), and most importantly Australian Rules Football (hereinafter referenced as “footy”).

Footy has been my sporting life blood for about 5-7 years now, although I’ve watched it for more than fifteen, thanks to getting Fox Soccer channel for a couple of years in Payette. Wendy and the boys would go to sleep, and I’d watch the game of the week at 11 pm or so Saturday nights, and then the highlights show on Wednesdays. Developed my first taste during the Brisbane Lions’ three peat in 2001-3, had an enforced hiatus for a few years, and re-caught the bug a couple of years later, watching the Swans/West Coast grand finals, Geelong’s three titles, and when live radio of every game became a thing about six years back or so, I began spending my Fri/Sat over nights for six months a year sleeping with the Internet radio on softly, so as not to wake Melissa first and later any children who might be up. (Dana swears she sleeps through anything, but it stays soft just in case.)

And having followed it semi-religiously, I’ve become enough of an authority that I write opinion pieces about footy for Australian readers! The Roar is an online sports mag down under which I write for (footy AND American college football), and the major footy source in the country, afl.com.au, is considering bringing me in as a “foreign correspondent for next season! Can you imagine any of that happening in the pre-Internet world?

(The funniest part of writing for Australia is that my editor has to correct my Yankee spelling! Think about the way the British spell, and you’re not far wrong.)

A month of thankfulness, Part Three

I want to share these posts with you, to help you consider what you are thankful for. Perhaps some are identical, perhaps some are analogous, perhaps some are completely foreign to you. But the thing that should stick with you is having an ATTITUDE of GRATITUDE, always. Just this one simple change in your life, on its own, can transform you.

Some of the details of these posts are rather personal; obviously, I'm not revealing anything i don't want to reveal. At this late stage, my life is an open book for reading and enhancement of others. But it also means there may be things which don't make sense because you don't know my background. Hopefully it will be clear enough in context, but leave a comment if there's something that's unclear, and I'll clarify. May God bless you in this season of thankfulness. 

A month of thanks.

Nov 11. I had this huge post about how we were founded on the principle that the people should govern - that yes, originally it was the “white male landowners”, but gradually it’s expanded to the ideal that ALL men and women were created equal (even if elements of society today want to renege on that belief today and use bullying tactics to scare us in that direction).

Then I talked about how the 240 years of believing in the American Dream - the idea that the economic power belongs not to the bourgeoisie but the innovative and hard-working - led us to become the greatest economic and not coincidentally military power on earth. And that a strong military can be a danger when its beliefs run contrary to the nation’s, but that we’ve been blessed with ten generations of leaders and recruits who were the staunchest defenders of those principles - sometimes even more so than the elected and unelected people in our government. They have defended not just the people of this nation, but the very principles this nation stands for.

Finally, I thanked the men and women who have served in that military, who put their lives and families at risk so that I never had to, and that I have never forgotten that privilege, I promise I never will forget it, and that I prayed that those who read this would never forget those who were the living manifestation of Romans 13. It was a really great post, to be honest; I was very proud of it.

However, that post seems to have disappeared into the ether. So this is not that post; it is merely a tribute to that post, a tribute to the tribute to the men and women who may not have made this nation the exact ideal the Founding Fathers envisioned, but who have made it closer than any other nation than any other country in existence. Thank you, veterans.

An intermission, on an ugly topic...

In 1986, the McMartin pre-school trials were a frightening moment in American history, when people were convicted in the public eye through only the testimony of young children - children, it turned out, who could be easily manipulated by prosecutors (even well-meaning ones) into accusing people they SUSPECTED of guilt.

I know this because a twelve-year old foster child wrongly accused me of such behavior that year as a math teacher because she was getting a D in my class and wanted to get me in trouble. It was professionally the scariest moment of my life. I have always been grateful to both her foster mom and my principal, both of whom believed in me and refused to go public with the child’s allegations without more proof, despite the public mood - and sure enough, it quickly turned out that the child was lying about a great number of things, including some items she’d stolen, and my crisis was averted. But those types of accusations ruined many people back then.

I wonder how many men are being accused falsely now and are watching their careers explode. I’ve no doubt most if not nearly all of these accusations are probably true, as there’s been an unspoken culture of male sexual gratification for decades, it seems. But it would be trivial to do what the poor twisted foster girl did to me right now: accuse someone you didn’t like for your own vengeful purposes without evidence, and the public would believe your accusations over his defenses without question in this environment.

It’s hard to say that without sounding like I’m belittling those women (and men) who are finally seeing some justice for their pain. That’s not it at all. It goes back to the American ideal: innocent until proven guilty, not the other way around. More than anything else, we are supposedly a nation of laws. I would hate to see that vanish in a climate of innuendo and hatred.

A month of thanks.

Nov 12. I am thankful for the pain and severe fatigue that I enjoy from my Tubular Aggregate Myopathy.

I have to be, because God allows it to take over my body.

Originally, its purpose was to slow me down enough to bring me to the Lord, with Melissa’s loving help, and it did that, forcing me to quit my band teaching career along the way. I appreciated that, actually, and the morphine, oxycodone, and gabapentin were able to keep me sorta functional in the meantime.

Now, it’s progressed to where I’ll be retiring at the age of 53 as soon as the paperwork and evaluations get done. No amount of medicine is preventing the fact that I can no longer drive or even travel any significant distance, or do more than superficially hold or touch my children or my Dana. I’d thought it was to give me time to write for the Lord, but I barely have the energy or strength to do that anymore.

So, I don’t understand what the purpose of its continued progression is, except perhaps to teach me humility. Which is fair, because the pride of life is what’s killing me, and my loving God knows what needs to be honed before I enter His Kingdom. So thank You, God, for loving me enough to force me through this. It means I really am Your child.

A month of thanks. No different than any other month, except this one’s on Facebook.

Nov 13. I am thankful for where I live, and where I have lived.

I spent the first 28 years (minus a year and a half at Caltech in Pasadena) living in an old house in little Newcastle, California. Three acres on a little knoll, pastureland and gardens and room to run around and explore. It was wonderful.

After both of my parents died and I didn’t have anything tying me there, and as I saw the prospects for education in general and music ed in particular looking worse and worse - and the urbanization of the region increasing by leaps and bounds - I resigned at Penryn and spent my spring break looking for a place to move to. The Treasure Valley, greater Boise, felt like Sacramento had growing up, and so after the school year ended I moved up to stay with my godparents Jerry and Vivian Gilbert in Emmett, while I looked for a job.

God was looking out for me even then. Despite moving so late, I had four job offers as a band director in my first ten days there. I took the job in Kuna and spent a year in an apartment in downtown Boise, a wonderful time I spent with my dear Heather Kelly-Smith. Over time I found a house out where Edwards is now, and after she met her future husband, Jesse, I ended up meeting my first wife, Wendy. We bought a house on the Meridian side of town, the house where Hamilton was born. Seven great years teaching in Kuna and living in Boise.

But that kept growing, too. Wendy and I were both country folks, and when Payette came calling with an offer I couldn’t refuse, we moved into our favorite house, the original hospital in Payette on Center Avenue, built in 1900. A big box, beautiful home in a lovely little town an hour out of the city. Even with the difficulties of the job, that was a wonderful place to live and raise our boys.

And for the last twelve years, God’s places us all here in the loving, lovely community of Jerome. I’ve always loved the Magic Valley - had offers to work down here for years, and though the offers were never right, we loved the idea. My dear friend Riqui Peterson had this band job before me, and set it up wonderfully for me to succeed here. We had a lovely house here, where the kids and I continued to live after Wendy left; where Melissa and I spent our marriage; where we lived until a year ago this month when it was clear I was too ill to care for the home anymore and I moved to this trailer park.

So now, I’m in a perfect place for my current situation- tiny home big enough for the kids. But to my surprise, it’s been great for the children too. It’s the first real neighborhood with other children we’ve been in, and the three youngest in particular love it here. Rutherford spends more time outside than he ever had before! And yet it’s quiet here, close to the middle school, close to the J Center. Perfect.

And when it’s time to combine families with Dana, we are both confident that God will find us a perfect home in Jerome to settle into. He’s been so good to me and to her throughout our lives.

A month of thanks. No different than any other month, except the thanks are also on Facebook.

Nov 14. It seems appropriate today to express my thanks to not just Pastor Gene Kissinger and Jerome Free Will Baptist, my current and presumably final church home, but also to my other church homes: Clay Ramirez and Jerome Believers, Kevin Lindley and the Life Church of Jerome, and Jeff Norton at Northridge, which is where I first attended even before being fully led to my knees while married to Melissa (who’d been saved since she was nineteen).

They have all been such amazing men of faith, men of Scripture, and four of the finest examples of what a Christian should look like. Well-read and extremely adept at sharing God’s Word with not just Scripture itself (the absolute must) but with real life stories and examples, analogies and applications to our lives. Each has his strengths and areas that I’m sure they’d be the first to describe in humility, but every one of them was a literal God-send for me and my family, exactly who we needed at that moment in our lives.

Now, Jeff and his amazing family (Caron and their children) are on the east coast again, in their original stomping grounds. (And I miss them terribly. Even by pastoral standards, Jeff Norton may be the most upstanding man I’ve ever known, true to His Principles to the core.) Jeff is the most erudite Biblical scholar I’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing preach.

Kevin and Allison Lindley have found their calling elsewhere, too, and last I heard were awaiting God’s directions for their next step. I, too, have that sensation in my life right now: knowing that it’s time to leave this post but not sure what the Father has in Mind for me next. Scary, if you don’t have complete faith in His Plan for your life. (And He has never failed me. Ever.)

Clay and Heather and their beautiful little ones are still here, doing what the two of them do best: bringing newcomers to Christ in easy to swallow steps that don’t water down the Gospel, but still make church an easier transition for those who hear His Call but may fear what Christianity might “mean” in their lives. Believers was always filled with young people, many of whom were even younger in the Lord than I.

And Gene and Sandy Kissinger have been friends of mine for years - their oldest child and mine were classmates. Gene’s guidance as a pastor and as a friend has been one of the most indispensable elements of my life these past few years: he has been my biggest supporter as a writer, and so unwavering in his imitation of Christ as to be living proof of the Holy Spirit’s presence in the world. As he would undoubtedly say with all humility, he couldn’t possibly be so perfect a demonstration of everything a pastor should be without Godly aid. My children and Dana and I have been unreasonably blessed by his teaching, his example, and his friendship. (And we’re now sort of related, since their daughter married my step-son. Or vice versa.)

In my final career, God has called me to go to work full time for Him (although certainly not behind a pulpit!). I can only pray that I can do half the job these four men have given me as examples to follow. Thank you all.

A month of thankfulness, Part Two

I want to share these posts with you, to help you consider what you are thankful for. Perhaps some are identical, perhaps some are analogous, perhaps some are completely foreign to you. But the thing that should stick with you is having an ATTITUDE of GRATITUDE, always. Just this one simple change in your life, on its own, can transform you.

Some of the details of these posts are rather personal; obviously, I'm not revealing anything i don't want to reveal. At this late stage, my life is an open book for reading and enhancement of others. But it also means there may be things which don't make sense because you don't know my background. Hopefully it will be clear enough in context, but leave a comment if there's something that's unclear, and I'll clarify. May God bless you in this season of thankfulness. 

A month of thanks. No different than any other, except the thanks are also on our blog.

Nov 6. I am thankful for my son Hamilton Smith. He will be turning 21 in February, and he is a grown man in so many respects. I wish I saw him more - he moved into his mother’s house full time when he was 16 - but when I do, I remember how proud I am of him. He wants to be a biomedical engineer - making robotic parts for people who've lost theirs. His school of choice messed him up, so he's back in town at the local junior college to right his ship and head out to sea again. He has not allowed this set-back to change him, for which I am thankful.

A month of thanks. No different than any other month, except the thanks are on our blog.

Nov 7. I am thankful for my son Emerson. Though his life was brief, his soul lives on and waits for me to see him in Heaven once the Lord comes to get me. His presence there is my driving force, my best hope of convincing his mother to accept Jesus Christ as her savior and go to Heaven as well.

I pray for her salvation daily, as much as a play for my eldest son’s.

And I can hardly wait to see Emerson again.

A month of thanks. No different than any other month, except the thanks are on our blog.

Nov 8. I am thankful for my son Sutherland. I’m always proud of him for the usual reasons: he’s smart, empathetic, amazingly talented as a singer, actor, artist, dancer, writer, and the list goes on.

But here’s something important: I dropped off some black clothes at rehearsal for him on Saturday. After having been joking about the bag holding something illicit, we exchange a hug and, as I’m heading out the drama room door, he says, “I love you, Dad!” I reply in kind, but as the door slowly closes, I can hear three of his friends teasing him about saying that to me - and he immediately starts defending his displays of affection with gusto! I think all five of these kids would do the same - I’ll tell you R’s take tomorrow - but in high school, I was extremely impressed he would do more than shrug it off. Thank you, son. (Grandpa Stan in particular would be pleased.)

A month of thanks. No different than any other month except that the thanks are on our blog.

Nov 9. I am thankful for the existence of Rutherford S. P. Smith, my youngest son. Thirteen and every bit the semi-emo teenager. Everything is “sick” right now. Hair growing to a far-off destination, namely his eldest brother’s length. So happy to have his own room once Isaiah moved out that he hardly ever leaves it.

            And yet ... close to straight A student. Empathy beyond every other child. Known amongst his peers as the best ear in town; I know this because he’s occasionally late getting home from having talked a fellow 13-year old off the figurative ledge.

 And when I told him Sutherland’s take on loving his dad (see the above post), he said, “Yeah, my friends all think I’m weird because I actually CARE what my parents think, and I WANT them to be happy.” Oh, the shame!

A month of thanks. No different than any other month, except that it’s on our blog.

Nov 10. I am thankful for my twins. After all boys, Wendy and I were surprised to get pregnant one last time. She learned over the years how to break the news more genteelly: with Hamilton, it was holding a stick in front of my sleeping eyes and saying, “Ya wanna talk about it?”, while this time it was a nice dinner out, kids with our best friend, and guess what, hubby?

            I remember the twin news better than the pregnancy news, though. She called from the road after the first ultrasound, and said, “Meet me at the curb, and don’t bring the boys.” She got out and handed me the photo. I stared at the two feet for a while until it dawned on me that they weren’t two feet: they were two bodies. Twins.

I was finishing year six in Payette, a community that had lived with our ups and downs, our lost Emerson and our successes with South and Rowdy. And those who cared were split into two camps.

Half were like me, thinking how cool twins (identical, to boot!) were going to be, regardless of gender. The other half had fingers crossed: “I hope they’re girls, I hope they’re girls...”

When she’d gotten the vital ultrasound reveal, she shared the info with me so brilliantly that I stole the reveal for my band. She went shopping afterwards, and the last things she holds up are two little dresses. Girls. I did that to my high school band the next morning, and the flute and clarinet girls all screamed with glee, deafening the rest of us.

Of course, my 5’1” bride barely made 32 weeks with twins from her 6’2” husband. We never got to induce because her body wanted those babies OUTTA there. Besides, “baby girl B” was looking for a way out her rib cage, instead of the designated exit. C-section rescue involved 23 of us in the operating room, ironic when it had just been me and Wendy and the dog for H’s birth.