okay . . . I plan on still blogging here but you can go to:

 http://www.myspace.com/sycamoreskidmore  

I am not sure why I gave in, but being connected is nice.

**SKID**

So, I can now move on after sharing the Top 10 things I get tired of reading about on Xanga.  (By the way, you have not stopped.  Apparently my rant only made some people say, "Oh, I forgot about that great quiz I have not passed on to a bunch of people who barely know me so I will do that and share my answers and over-disclose).

Side note: So go ahead and post and totally ignore my 10 most annoying things . . . I actually read a post the other day that had 7 of the 10 in ONE POST.  Anyhow, just PLEASE don't send me an email with the subject: " I know you'll reply only if you love God" . . . because if showing my love for God were demonstrated (or measured) by something like replying to an email . . . I would be the Pope.

There IS one more thing I read about a lot that is not annoying but equally disturbing in an entirely different way.  I see it in almost EVERY update of my subscription list.  I'm 34 so my circle of friends is not too hung up on it, but I read about a lot of BROKEN HEARTS.

 . . . but don't think I am annoyed.  I just hurt with you.  I just read about one today.  And boy do I go back to 9th grade when Rachel C. really did some open heart surgery on me . . . and no she was not a surgical resident at the local hospital . . . or if she was she forgot about that part where you use anesthesia before you cut someone open and pull their heart out.

Anyhow.  There is a part of me that would love to be 17 again (minus the Honors Chemistry), but I really am glad to be 34 and on the other end of the broken heart business.  Well, wait . . . when I find out a friend of mine is working through an affair in his 15 year marriage, I guess broken hearts don't really have an age limit . . . but safe to say there are less of them . . . not that isn't even true . . . there are less of them that deal with who I will be dating after the game on Friday night.

For those who even come close to reading this far (most high schoolers shy away from reading anything that is (a.) more than three lines (b.) isn't followed by a price and the words "Make it a Combo for an extra 1.99 or (c.) does not contain the words Hit the "A" button to start a new game . . . anyhow if you are reading this far . . . here is my take on broken hearts . . . (this is an edited version of my comment to the broken heart I read about today)

I think the Wizard of Oz (well, after he had been exposed as the guy behind the curtain) told the Tin Man that hearts would not be worth making until they were made unbreakable.  I have never agreed with that . . . and maybe it was not what he said (I could never stay awake for that part so until I was like 16 I did not realize that Dorothy ever made it back home), BUT I digress . . . my point is there is no worse feeling than a broken heart, but I don't know that I would trade it or wish that I had never felt mine break because until I know my heart's limits and limitations, I can never appreciate the other half of what comes with having a heart.

Also, a broken heart is often the only motivation to grow in ANY area of your life (not just "romance").  I was in 9th grade when mine was stepped on and all but surgically removed for the first time, and I am 34 and can STILL remember how it felt . . . but I am actually thankful for that because it keeps me from reading about the broken hearts of others and saying "So what's the big deal?  Get over it."

I am thankful that my heart could break.  TRUST me, a HARD heart is far worse.  It says a lot about a person whose heart can actually break.  It shows the amazing love that your heart is capable of.  Surely there can be another way to show that we think, but I believe that God in his infinite wisdom created us so that we would be able to have even the slightest feeling of what it feels like to have something you love leave, lie to you or let you down . . . so that . . . well do I really have to explain this one?

So to my friend I wrote to tday and to you who might be reading this lonely and broken-hearted, I say I am sorry for what you are feeling.  I know it hurts.  It is a hurt that really does not compare to most hurts. (I guess you were waiting for a "but" to come here.  There is not one.  You hurt.  So allow yourself to hurt for that is the only way you learn valuable things about how you were made.)

In the shadow . . .

**SKID**

 . . . and Mckee, here is where you comment on how long this post is . . . but if you reply, I will trust it is only because you love God.

I will warn you now.  This is the longest post I have ever done, and yet I think might be THE most significant of my ramblings to date.  There may be some humor, but I have tried to uncover a truth that you may have overlooked.  Read on if you dare.

I may not post every day, but I do read Xangas every day.  I have noticed a pattern.  There are some things that I pretty much expect each time I catch up on Xangas:

SO HERE IS MY TOP 10 LIST of things I am TIRED OF SEEING ON XANGAS (in nor particular order except for number one)

(bear with me through the first few . . . I am working towards sharing by far the MOST common thing I have seen in the entries of others)

I know each day I will see:

10. LOTS of words that are not spelled correctly.  (I wanted to write "misspelled words" but I wasn't sure if that was the right way to spell "misspell")

9. someTHING that is referred to as "gay" that could in no way even have a sexual orientation because it is a THING.  (Various examples of things that people say are gay: school, homework, practice, being grounded, your cell phone, a test, a family vacation, or a gift you received, etc.)

8. icons, icons and more icons.  If they charged for icons and all that money went to one cause, we might be able to purchase the planet Jupiter (AND have money left over to build a craft that would take us there)

Needless to say . . . I don't understand icons.

(we are still getting to the ONE thing that see more than any other)

7. internet shorthand that even the CIA could not decipher.  Sometimes I wonder if while you were typing, a small rodent must have run across your keyboard and you were so shocked that once you killed the rodent you did not have the presence of mind to delete all that it typed with its little paws as it scurried across your keyboard.

6. the words, "um" "like" and "whatever"

5. someone a little too happy to own a digital camera (often with the picture resolution of that Mars rover that sent pictures of rocks back to earth)

4. the word s*ck . . . I can't even bring myself to type it (it is not "sick", "sack" "sock")

3. any list of questions asking me to reveal WAY too much about myself to people who don't really want to read it AND who don't really believe what I would say.  The ONLY way to make these long list of things interesting would be if they used THEM for the confirmation hearings of Supreme Court Justices.  Example: "Judge Alito, have you ever been kissed in the rain?"

2. fonts so small that I need a monitor the size of Montana to read them, but it does not matter because you are writing in LIGHT BLUE on a YELLOW background and once I enlarge the font, I am likely to find things that s*ck, that are gay and question quizzes asking me if I take showers or baths.

But there is one thing I used to VERY tired of until I really took the time to read it.  Here is the number one thing . . . and I KNOW you have seen it . . . but don't skim over it too quickly.

It's this list called "Every Girls' Dream."  It comes in many forms.  Sometimes it is a long list and sometimes not so long . . . (I guess depending on how desparate the person typing happens to be)

I'll be honest.  I never really read it for two reasons:

a. I am a guy and NOT interested in every girls dream . . .and very confident that I am NOT it so there is no use in needlessly lowering my self-esteem.

b. I have a hard time reading it because it is often written in that micro font using multiple colors, animated text and surrounded by icons of Britney Spears, two people holding hands on the beach, and SpongeBob.

HOWEVER . . . after reading this, I find this list amazing.  Here it is (with my commentary)  As I REALLY read it, I realized that this "man" is described in Philippians 2:1-11 (as well as on numerous pages from the gospels and even in the Old Testament stories) and if more teen guys could live by THAT list, then most of these things in the list I have been so bothered by begin to take on NEW significance. (my comments follow the hyphens below each item)

So here is the list I am told (nearly every day on Xanga) is EVERY GIRLS DREAM:

1. Getting kissed in the pouring rain.

-Noah understood this.  The disciples on a boat in the middle of a storm lived this, and a woman at a well who lived in a perpetual downpour felt this.

I finally did it.

After 10 years of marriage and 6 years of having kids, we finally pulled it off.

I put lights on the house.  All over the house.  Melissa went to Target and I told her to spare no expense as we sought to turn our house into a haven of holiday jubilation.

Daisy is finally old enough to appreciate and enjoy them . . . and is actually exicted about turning onto our street and coming home.

She loves looking at lights and "everyone else" has them.  I could only hear "Daddy, why does OUR house have to be boring?" only so many times before deciding to do something about it.

So about 10 hours of being on the roof, on a ladder, and out of my mind . . . and it is done.  It's not quite the North Pole, or the Griswold homestead . . . but planes heading for the Nashville Airport have actually gotten confused and almost landed in our driveway.

Here is the cool part . . .

As I pulled out of our driveway in the evening and headed down our street earlier this week, a car passed me and was heading down our street (towards our house).  I watched in the rear view mirror as the tail lights on the car lit up red as he neared our house.  They drove slowly until they passed and then kept on going to their home . . . which I am sure was dimly lit and boring . . . but for a moment, they had to stop and celebrate.

My house is one thing . . . but my life is another.  Is there anything about the way I am letting my light shine before men that they may see my deeds and glorify my father who is in Heaven (Matthew 5:16)?  In other words, is there any contribution my life makes to the kingdom that causes passers-by to put on the brakes and enjoy the work of God for even a moment?

I am under no illusion that people are impressed by the hours I spent on the ladder.  They are amazed at the LIGHTS . . . a concept I did not come up with.

When we work, God is glorified.  People stop.  They look.  They continue on their way, but they have had a moment of clarity, celebration and/or peace that we have helped create by simply "arranging" what God has given us that is amazing.

I am thankful that God gives me the opportunity to "arrange" in a variety of settings here on this earth.  When we worship, we are arranging lights.  When we give toys to inner city kids, we are arranging lights.  When we sell Christmas trees so we can shop for children, when we give a party for the boys at Cedar Grove, or when we send support to a missionary we are arranging lights. 

My prayer is that you and I will be about "arranging lights" so that people will stop . . .

 . . . for when they see our lights, God is glorified.

And they (like Daisy) just might look forward even more to the trip "home."

O Come let us adore Him.

**SKID**

Halloween Report:

Daisy: Little Orphan Annie

Anna Belle: Tennis Player

Lila Mae: Hippie

Daddy: Tired.

Worst things I ever got as a kid trick or treating:

-small tube of toothpaste (really small - smaller than the small ones you get to travel with - I mean this was communion size small - like something only dentists can get . . . I suppose because you could only brush one TOOTH with it so they would not be put out of business . . . as if to say, "Go ahead and eat all that candy, but this is my little smug reminder that you will need to be seeing me real soon."

-floss (from the same stupid house the following year)

-little red box of raisins (I suppose to keep you "regular" after getting your system clogged with all that candy)

-little rubber bouncy ball (what in the world? . . . and for the dummy kid who actually thought it was edible . . . those raisins were NOT going to help him)

-a nickel (from some stuck up person who actually wanted little children to think "Wow, that guy is so rich he is giving away money!" . . . I guess if I took a whole bag of Hershey's miniatures and divided them among the total cost, a nickel would be a better deal, but for the love of Frankenstein . . . how was I supposed to DRIVE MYSELF to the store to buy my own candy.  Must have been friends with that moron dentist.

-a pencil (yeah, he was real popular . . . "Oh good, now when trick or treating is over, I can get right on that homework."

Hope you, my friends, got candy and lots of it.

In the shadow of HIS cross

**SKID**