winterlake church

Okay - if you’re following at home, I (Travis) have been using the WLC blog as a personal journal of sorts.  And that’s a little weird to me, because I’ve always felt uncomfortable trying to blog “for” the church.  It’s like, do I put announcements out here, or updates, or just leave it blank until brilliance strikes me, or what. 

So what am I doing about it?  I’m moving my stuff.  If you want to read my blog, go to www.blueroomworthy.com and read away.  I’ll update it regularly, like I’ve tried to do here.  And make sure you read the first post so you understand the name . . .

If you’re here to keep up with the WinterLake Project, this blog won’t be updated nearly as often, and, in fact, you’ll probably get the same or better information at www.blueroomworthy.com - so go there, subscribe, and follow along.

Thanks for keeping up with us!

-Travis

These are the things I learned about this year that I can’t live without . . . Actually, I could live without them, but they sure make things better.

1. Google Reader:  How on earth did I know anything about anything prior to bringing the Google Reader into my life . . . RSS was a myth to me before May.  Now, I no longer surf the internet; the internet surfs me!  If you don’t have a Google Reader set up, what are you waiting for?  It’s free, and (like most stuff from Google) amazing.
2. Apple:  I got my first Mac this year.  It’s a MacBook Pro.  But the laptop thing isn’t what’s changed my life.  It’s OSX.  It’s the intuitive way things are set-up.  I’ve networked Windows computers for years, and it’s still a struggle sometimes.  I figured it out on the Mac in about 10 minutes.  Amazing.
3. Jott:  Forget stuff?  Bad at writing down lists?  Are you a serial texter, who texts while driving, thus putting your life (and the lives of those around you) at risk?  Jott is the answer.  It’s free (it’s in Beta).  You set up your account, add some contacts, and, voila, you’re able to do voice to text/e-mail from your cell phone.  Use this to remember things, and impress girls.
4. Wordpress:  I’ve blogged for a long time.  Looking at the archives, about 5 years.  I’ve used blogspot, and blogger, and Typepad, and Virb.  Wordpress rocks.  My friend Steve is pretty sure the internet is built on Wordpress.  Matt thinks it’s one of the coolest things since sliced bread.  They’re both smarter than me, so I defer.  I do know it’s easy to use, and looks really good.
5. Chick-fil-A Honey Roasted BBQ Sauce:  Usually, you just ask for BBQ Sauce.  Or Polynesian Sauce.  Or Buffalo Sauce.  And, as you know, it comes in those little round containers with the peel back lid.  I beseech you, try the Honey Roasted BBQ.  My friend Trevor turned me onto it this year.  It’s in a regular packet, just like Ketchup.  It’s out on the floor, available for mass consumption.  And it’s the condiment of the future.

Take care of these 5 things this year, and your 2008 will be amazing like my 2007 was . . . Okay, maybe you don’t have to do everything on the list for your year to be amazing.  And, even if you did, you’d still be a year behind me.  But, I promise you’ll enjoy all of ‘em. That’s it for ‘07.  Have a Happy New Year. 

About 4-5 years ago, Kristen and I had the privilege of leading one of the great youth small groups of all time . . . I’m talking about a Hall of Fame small group . . . from our initial group of 9 kids, it grew to over 30, with as many as a hundred different kids coming through the front door of our house.  The core of this group was amazing . . . a budding photojournalist, 4 (to be) college baseball players, the student body president, the homecoming queen, musicians, soccer players, volleyball players . . . all of them embracing each other in a true community, the likes of which I had never witnessed before . . . Tim started coming to our group during (I think) his senior year.  Diana had started coming (maybe) 3 months earlier.  We noticed quickly, though, that there was something there, even as both went through various flirtations with others at the group, they had an irresistible (inflammable?) chemistry.As they aged grew older matured, I’ll never forget the late nights spent talking in our living room . . . there was little conversation that was off limits; actually, most of Tim, and Jack, and mine’s conversations took place in front of Halo, while the girls hung out in the living room.  It was clear to everyone there that someday, these two would be married.Well - last night it happened.  A beautiful, lakefront ceremony, with a cool breeze and no bugs and an elegant string duet and tearful vows was the setting for one of the most perfect weddings I’ve ever been to.  The reception was exactly what I thought it would be for Tim and Diana, lighthearted and full of love, and a good time.Anyway, just wanted to use this space and this time to say thanks to Tim and Diana.  Thanks for letting us be a part of your lives, and share in this moment for you.  Tim, thanks for the matches in Beaver Creek, and tearing out the posts in those ugly windows in my kitchen, and playing flag football, and being a thoughtful, decent guy . . . Diana, thanks for the talks, and getting to baptize you, and (from Kristen) for what you said to her last night . . . sometimes, when you work with youth, you don’t really get to see tangible results of what you’re doing . . . You guys are a huge blessing to us.Congratulations, Tim and Diana!  We love you guys! 

Second only to flooring questions, I get questions about Coleman the Wonderdog. 

Q: What’s a French Brittany Spaniel?  A:  It’s just like a regular Brittany, only it has a funny accent, eats fries, and drinks Evian.  Or Click here. 

Q: How big is he?  A: 38 lbs. 

Q: Where did you get him? A: Parler’s French Brittanys

Q: How old is he? A: 4

Q:  Would you recommend the French Brittany as a pet? A: Provided you have tons of patience, a big yard, no cats, no dogs, no chickens, no ladders, a fence that’s not able to be climbed, never eat food in close proximity to him, an armadillo free yard, no children in diapers, and a vehicle he’s free to ride in at his discretion, then you could consider a French Brittany.  You could also consider a wolverine.  Actually, they’re very sweet, but really high energy and mischevious, so I’d only recommend ’em to folks who are a little ”off” . . .

Q:  What make him a Wonderdog? A: the fact that we wonder where he is, wonder what he’s into, and wonder how he gets away with it.  Oh, and he wears a cape when he’s saving lives.

Q:  What does he look like?

Have a great day!

. . . We went to Timm’s last night, and while we were there the men were out on the back porch for a little while, grilling and eating. Timm has this gas grill. Since it reminded me of a story, and I’ve got nothing more exciting to blog about, here you go:

I was nineteen years old, and was enjoying my life of balance, having plenty of time for my girlfriend, a cushy 9-5 job, and classes that weren’t exactly overwhelming . . . and I had this tremendous passion for fishing.

Not just any fishing, mind you - snook fishing.  Snook, the official gamefish of the west coast of Florida.  This purveyor of sweat inducing strikes and drag burning runs.  Snook are an inshore gamefish, meaning you don’t need a 35′ SeaRay and 200 gallons of gas to pursue them . . . In fact, many anglers are able to pursue them from shore, from docks, and piers or bridges.  At this juncture in my life, pier fishing was almost second nature to me.  So, that’s really where the story begins.

It was January 12, 1997.  I’m sure of the date, because it was Championship Sunday in the NFL.  I recruited my friend Tony to go with me on this trip.  Tony’s not much of a fisherman - usually, he’d sit off to the side and eat while I tended to the tackle, and the bait, and the fishing . . . Oh, and he’d always have the sports page, trying to get the angle on his next wager . . . Anyway, I told him we’d be able to listen to the game from the bridge, and what manlier way to do a championship game, on the radio, catching snook.

It’s important to note, at this point, that snook are very tempermental gamefish.  Anything under 70 degrees and they develop a severe case of lockjaw.  As we drove towards the Skyway (yes, that Skyway) Bridge, we passed a thermometer on a bank reading 38 degrees.  We didn’t care - we had hot chocolate, and food, and, by the way, we were driving Kristen’s brand new 4Runner, a dark navy blue number that she’d put less than 100 miles on at that point.

We pulled up to the bridge and I hopped out and instantly, the cold wind ripped through my jacket.  It was windy!  Bad windy!  Undeterred, I began to set up for our adventure while Tony guarded the passenger seat and gave me score updates on the Panthers-Packers . . . At some point, I need to tell you how snook fishing off a bridge works:  The way I was taught, snook are attracted to lights.  The lights attract bait, and the snook come to the lights to feed.  As I was an expert on bridge fishing, I had brought a Coleman Propane Lantern for just such an occasion.

So, I lowered the tailgate on the 4runner and started fiddling with the lantern . . . Just like dad had showed me, I turned the gas on fully open . . . and struck a match.  It snuffed out almost instantly.  Again, same thing.  I whistled up Tony, who obediently wandered to the back of the truck and had him act as a wind block . . . still no go.  I get this idea.  I slide the lantern forward, into the actual “bed” area of the SUV, figuring, at least the back was open for ventalation.  The wind was HOWLING!!!  Even inside the truck, it was nearly impossible to get the match lit.  What were we going to do?  Without light, our trip would be a waste . . . Finally, I decide that we’re going to shut all the doors and windows on the truck, and I’ll climb inside, light the lantern, and we’ll quickly take it out and lower over the bridge.  In - out; very quick.  One important thing was forgotten though, as we began preparing for this plan . . . the lantern was still sitting inside the truck, with the propane running WIDE OPEN . . . I noticed a little bit of an odd smell as I climbed into the cargo area . . . Tony knocked on the window and gave me a thumbs up.  I thumbs upped back.

He said it looked like a giant flash of lightning, or a camera flash on a supersonic scale . . . I remember it scaring me out of my wits . . . from the glow of the now lit lantern, he said I looked like Wile E. Coyote holding a match after blowing himself up.  There was hair singed on my arms.  My eyebrows.  The nap on my jacket.  It seemed like it took 15 minutes for him to open the tailgate.  I was sweating.  I handed him out the lantern, ready to resume our mission, and he finally spoke:

“Did you hear if the Panthers scored?”

To this day, I’ll only operate a charcoal grill. 

Happy Friday!!!