November 2005

Smaller Freak of Nature
11/2/2005 6:21:08 AM
I've reached a milestone. I have lost over one hundred pounds in the last three months. I have had several experiences that make me feel like I’m really making progress. We were eating at the Chinese restaurant the other day—I was celebrating my milestone— and a couple walked up and asked me if I was Eddie Thompson. They told me they thought so, but I looked smaller; they weren’t sure. Someone else said something similar, “We heard you had lost weight but we didn’t think this much.” I was walking in the neighborhood the other day, putting in some exercise, when my mother-in-law almost drove right by me before suddenly stopping and backing up. She hadn’t recognized me coming down road. She hadn’t really seen me in the last two months. When my mom came back from a week’s visit down South she had a similar moment when she first saw me. She didn’t know it was me coming down the road, walking towards her house. A woman I went to school with, who works in the same bank with my mom, told mom that she saw me walking into a local drug store but wasn’t sure it was me. It looked like me, but it seemed to be a smaller version of me. She had to look in the parking lot for my truck to make sure it was me. All of that sounds ridiculous and outrageous to me. Although I can tell I’ve lost weight, I certainly am not that different. To me, I’m still about the same, just a little smaller and with a lot more energy. But it certainly is encouraging to hear people say things like that. It makes me realize that I am on my way to something life-changing here. I am still a huge freak of nature: Just a hundred pound smaller freak of nature.

Kids & Geezers
11/5/2005 7:07:48 PM
Tonight was just a wonderful night. A couple from the church invited my family to their family cookout. The location of the event could not have been more beautiful. A cypress house, situated along a bend in the Ouachita River just North of Columbia, Louisiana, built up high to avoid the occasional floods, with moss filled live oaks and cypress trees creating a lovely fortress, was drenched in harvest moonlight and the glow of a quaint little fire where kids roasted wienies on homemade sticks cut from long, thin limbs of small sycamore seedlings. The embers spewed sparks into the air occasionally, adding light to the untold number of stars we could see in the clear autumn night. Frogs and crickets sang down by the river while we chatted about nothing in particular, laughing as stories were told and ideas exchanged. We figured out how everyone was somehow either kin to one another or else kin to someone who knew one another until nobody could argue that it’s certainly a small world we live in. There, under those stars, around that fire, with the kids chasing one another like their parents and grandparents had done around similar fires and those exact stars for generations, I breathed deeply of good old family fun. I always loved these sorts of parties growing up. I still do. I felt like a kid tonight. And I felt like an old geezer, too. The weird part was that it didn’t matter which I was feeling: It was great being both tonight.

Deerslayer
11/8/2005 7:01:27 AM
I feel like I should come clean with you guys. I killed a deer. A female deer. A little female deer. It was doe day, I was hunting, and the little critter rambled out of the woods near me: You do the math. For the last couple of years I've gone hunting with a man from my church. It's been an ongoing joke that I haven't killed a deer even though the young kids in my church have done so. This is the first time I've actually seen a deer with a rifle in my hand. I'm shocked the creature didn't bolt with all the noise I made swinging my chair around, getting my gun in position, taking it off safety, and breathing so hard and loud I scared myself. It was certainly a rush. It was my first deer, even though it was a small one. I am told they are much more tender to eat that way. I admit that I felt a little guilt when I got home and my little neice almost cried when she discovered I had shot Bambi. It was a beautiful sight emerging from those hardwoods, feeding on the rye grass in one of the three lanes upon which my stand sits. It seemed a violation of some sort to kill that deer; yet that is why I was there in the first place. Venison is very lean. Very good for me to eat. I'd certainly shoot again. I just wanted to say that it felt weird to harvest my first deer.

The Greatest Of These
11/11/2005 7:56:04 AM
"Faith, hope, and love: The greatest of these is love." I was thinking the other day how each of those represents levels of walking in the Kingdom of God. A circumstance was brought to my attention that was causing much consternation in someone. A co-worker of a friend of mine had stabbed her in the back and caused her harm in the eyes of her employer. She told me that she knew she should forgive them. That perfect love would do the right thing. She wasn't sure she had the faith to do it. I assured her she could do what God was nudging her to do. His Word is conformation. She knew all the scriptures. Finally, she said to me, "Should I forgive them when I don't really 'feel' like forgiving them. Wouldn't that be walking in hypocrisy?” My response was simple: No. That would be walking in faith. By Faith, you do what God says to do even if it makes no sense and drives you nuts. Or you can do it by Hope, where you walk in a place where you do the right thing in hopes that it will turn your enemy around and make your circumstance at work better in the long run. Or you can do it by Love, where you forgive your enemy because that is what is best for your enemy. You know how it feels to be forgiven. You understand the dynamics guilt brings to guilty. Forgive your enemy because you wish the best for them. Pick your motivation: Faith, hope, or love. Just let obedience have her path in you.”

Geaux Tigers!
11/12/2005 7:06:15 PM
For those of you who aren't from the South, you will just have to indulge my impulse to do a little bragging about LSU's overtime victory of Alabama tonight. Football dominates Saturday evenings down here. My Crimson Tide friends will understand: LSU!!! LSU!!! LSU!!!

The Millers Ministered Last Night
11/15/2005 9:22:19 AM
A couple of my old youth ministered in my church Sunday night. It was very gratifying to see some of the seed I have planted over the years bearing fruit. Tony and Melissa Miller were stars of my youth group at one time in Jena. They were both very talented. It is great knowing that I had something to do with developing their talents, but the thing that makes me most joyful is that each of them have overcome personal obstacles and shortcomings that had them bound up. They have matured into awesome ministers of Christ. And I had a little something to do with helping them along the way. Nights like Sunday night are worth their weight in gold when one is considering if progess is really being seen through one's ministry. It made me realize that there are a host of former youth and former congregants who are out there pouring out their hearts and souls for Jesus. I feel encouraged today.

The Agony Of Defeat
11/18/2005 8:01:29 AM
For the first time since I began my new weight loss journey, I gained weight this week. I feel like a failure. I don’t want to make any excuses. But I will now embark upon passionately listing my excuses for you now: On Monday, I was walking along at a wonderful pace, exercising like never before, and my feet had no pain whatsoever. This is the first time I’ve experienced that since the day I began walking to energize my metabolism. I have been constantly hampered with painful tendons in my heels. Not on Monday, though. I felt like I was walking on air. I began to wonder if this is what it was like to be a normal human being. Able to walk with no discomfort at all. Able to actually enjoy the moment. Suddenly, about two hundred yards from my destination, my right heel, which, for the first time was cooperating with me, suddenly popped. I couldn’t take another step. Making it to mom’s house from there, limping and struggling along, was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I won’t go into how depressed I’ve been over that. How unfair it all felt to me. Anyway, the second thing that messed me up this week was our church fellowship. The whole church/food culture is exactly why I’ve been doing this semi-radical sabbatical from the church get-togethers. I haven’t learned my lesson yet. I planned to break the diet, but I really went overboard. Everyone wanted me to “try” their dish. I’m not one to disappoint, you know. Well, now I’m the one left disappointed. Not being able to exercise and increasing my caloric intake is the recipe for weight gain I experienced this week. Basically, I failed. And it’s not even Thanksgiving yet. Then comes Christmas. I have my work cut out for me over these holidays. Pray for me!

The Thrill Of Victory
11/19/2005 7:27:26 AM
Wow! What a difference a couple of days makes! I put in a couple of long sessions in the gym and put the smack down on my diet. The results are awesome. My foot has recovered enough to exercise some, though it's not well enough to walk a mile yet. I've lost an astounding amount of weight in two days. Maybe I needed a week like last week to let my body know there is still a little something called "food" out there. Maybe my will-power needed a break as well. Whatever! I am feeling invincible today. All credit goes to the One Who gives me the grace to overcome the obstacles that arise along my life's path.

Thanks-Judgement Day
11/22/2005 11:47:22 AM
My favorite family holiday is coming up in a couple of days, but this year it's going to be much different. My mother's mom isn't doing very good. All of her kids are going to be there this Thanksgiving with her. The problem with that is we have always met here in Jena with my mom for the holiday. My family is very close, and the four siblings always do their best to be together with mom on Thanksgiving to eat her dressing, which is the best in the whole world, bar none. Last year, Packy broke tradition by hosting Thanksgiving in Houma. His kids are getting older, and it's just to much to pack them up for Thanksgiving and again on Christmas, taking them away from their church family and their friends. We chastised him for not being here on our traditional day together, but he needed to start his own tradition with his own family and his church family. Packy will be unable to come to Jena again this year. Neil had a motorcycle wreck and is recovering in Thibodeaux, which is just a stone's throw from Houma, where Packy and my grandmother live. Stacey is going to load mom up with her and head on down to Houma. So all of the family will be in Houma for Thanksgiving this year except for Laura and I. We have commitments here already. So this will be my first Thanksgiving celebration in my own home. I guess I'll be starting my own tradition, just like Packy did last year when he stayed down South and held Thanksgiving in his home. I gave him a hard time over it last year. Funny how things are turned around this year. I guess you just can't judge others without that same judgement falling back on you.

Yard Wars: Revenge of the Leaves
11/26/2005 10:04:40 AM
I needed to work off some of those Thanksgiving calories so I took the rake and attacked the leaves in my front yard. The big, colorful hickory leaves, the other hardwood leaves, and the pine needles mixed together to play to my senses. The beauty of their color reminded me of the colors of the foundation of New Jerusalem. It dawned on me that God must truly appreciate the depth of color. The crunch of the leaves beneath my feet gave rhythm to my movements as I dragged the rake back and forth along the ground in my yard. I imagined I was doing some autumn dance to the God who gives us the rhythm of the seasons. The sharp smell of the pine contrasted with the pungy flavor of the other leaves as I stirred a caldron of fall odors into the stiff wind blowing from the North. I gripped my rake as a sword as I battled the enemy hordes of rebel leaves which had escaped from their prison in the trees. Gleefully, I gazed at the conqueredI needed to work off some of those Thanksgiving calories so I took the rake and attacked the leaves in my front yard. The big, colorful hickory leaves, the other hardwood leaves, and the pine needles mixed together to play to my senses. The beauty of their color reminded me of the colors of the foundation of New Jerusalem. It dawned on me that God must truly appreciate the depth of color. The crunch of the leaves beneath my feet gave rhythm to my movements as I dragged the rake back and forth along the ground in my yard. I imagined I was doing some autumn dance to the God who gives us the rhythm of the seasons. The sharp smell of the pine contrasted with the pungent flavor of the other leaves as I stirred a caldron of fall odors into the stiff wind blowing from the North. I gripped my rake as a sword as I battled the enemy hordes of rebel leaves which had escaped from their prison in the trees. Gleefully, I gazed at the conquered heaps of fallen leaves with a sense of victory and accomplishment. Momentarily, a large, red hickory leaf, floundering on the gusts of the flowing breeze, brushed softly against my cheek in an unexpected kiss from above. I looked up into the vast expanse of tree limbs above me and noticed, for the first time, the enormous amount of leaves swaying back and forth, awaiting the opportunity to break the chains that bind them and cover my front yard like a smothering army of rebels. I grinned knowingly and sheathed my rake for another day.

Getting Lapped
11/29/2005 4:14:41 PM
This evening, Laura showed interest in walking with me if I would take her to the local walking track at the city park. She doesn't like walking at night on the neighborhood streets. There's not enough light, and the road is much less forgiving to the feet than the walking track. I've been encouraging her to get more active with me so I agreed. I remember now why I always prefer walking alone. Being as large as I am, I garner more than the usual share of gazes from the others enjoying the beautiful city park we have here in Jena. Worse of all, I'm slower than the other walkers. These skinny athletes go zipping by me like I'm standing still. Every time one of them passes me I try to steady my breathing so I don't sound like a locomotive coming around the track. Little kids with tiny little legs, following at their mother’s heels, shoot by me like I’m standing still. They almost fall over as they look back at me, deciding whether or not to go “beep, beep” as they pass me. Most embarrassing of all, this elderly couple, who I think unloaded from a couple of wheelchairs before entering onto the track, lapped me at one point. I think it was the proudest moment of their lives. I finished my walk, huffing and limping gingerly on my sore foot, a bit humiliated at my performance, convinced that this would be the last time I come to the public walking track. Laura is so perceptive. She must have known what I was thinking. She sighed as she said, “Could you imagine those people trying to walk around this track with another couple hundred pounds on their shoulders? None of them would make it very far. I’m very proud of you, Eddie.” I grinned. Even though I knew she was saying it just to make me feel better. It did. And I grinned. I don’t mind getting lapped when the one who matters thinks I’m the best on the track anyway.

::: Made by J&C Greer :::