Today is December 5th and the beginning of the Baseball Winter Meetings in Dallas. For those of you who've been with me on this blog since summer, you know my unabashed passion for Texas Rangers baseball. The Rangers figure to be, according to most baseball scribes, one of the five most active teams at the Winter Meetings.
The Winter Meetings are to baseball executives what "Black Friday" is to bargain shoppers. And while the bargains might not be as easy on the wallet, the wheeling and dealing of baseball players should be fun to watch. And with the current crop of free agents being what it is, there figures to be a significant hike in the number of deals at this year's Winter Meetings.
I'm thinking new Rangers GM Jon Daniels is looking for a signature move that places his stamp on the team. It should be fun to watch unfold.
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Quick funny from the Gardner house last night: Following church one Sunday night each month, Allan invites the youth group to stay over at the youth house for dinner and a movie. Last night, Sloppy Joe's was served as the meal alongside the classic movie, "Hoosiers."
Trae and I stayed for about 30 minutes and enjoyed the meal and the first part of the movie. When we got home, Mandy asked Trae, "What movie were you all watching?" And without batting an eye, Trae innocently replied, "Who's Yours." Classic.
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Well, I missed. Missed a good one. At least a 10-pointer, perhaps 11. After a bow hunting crash course on Friday afternoon, my nieghbor and friend Jamie Schumacher decided I was ready and qualified for an actual bow hunt.
Only one problem: I wasn't near as confident as Jamie!
Saturday morning brought a beautiful sunrise to the Texas Hill Country. Just after daybreak, several does began feeding by us. We must have seen 15-16 different does pass through. Two four points presented themselves when finally, the big hoss showed up. I feared with all those eyes around that drawing the bow would spook the does and they'd all scatter but, amazingly, they did not. Consequently, in my haste to get a shot off, I rushed (fearing the flight of the does and the big buck) and shot just over the back of the deer.
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I've often wondered throughout the course of my ministry if every church should have a "Deacon of Relaxation." Not talking therapy sessions here, but simply a leader who, in the midst of those times when we make mountains of molehills, could be a trusted and respected person to calm the nerves of the over-reactive.
Maybe Barnabas was that kind-of leader. He's called "The Son of Encouragement." Perhaps a portion of his encouragement was directed at quieting the spirits of those who were unsettled.
In a heritage such as ours in the churches of Christ -- where we have historically granted "liberty in matters of opinion" -- things are sometimes said in the course of a Bible class or a discussion group that might be unsettling. Uncomfortable.
And in those moments, wouldn't it be nice to have a "Deacon of Relaxation" who could encouragingly say: "Hey folks, Chill out. Everything's gonna be just fine if you just relax."
