Hat-tip goes to Reddit for this gem.

Today, I scheduled an appointment to have my iPhone and AppleTV checked out – both of which were having issues. As I was driving towards Kenwood Mall, where the Apple store is located, I noticed traffic was especially terrible. Things became clear when I saw that the traffic lights near the mall were not working. Eventually, I got into the mall parking lot and I was on my way in for my appointment.

But the mall wasn’t normal. All of the stores to my right were normal, but all of the stores to my left had no electricity. It hit me as strange. Half with power, and half without. The majority of stores without electricity had pulled down their gates and the employees were sitting in a dark space looking confused. That’s when it hit me…dangit…the Apple store is on the left too. They’re not going to be able to help me and I’ve just driven 30 minutes for nothing. I thought I’d better check it out and see if the power would come back on soon.

Then I walked up on this scene…

A store without power, dark and closed, but all of it’s employees outside trying to help people. As I looked around, I noticed more and more Apple employees all over the place. Many of them had taken customers with computer problems to working electrical outlets all over the mall. Just because they couldn’t fix the computer in their store, or sell anything, didn’t mean they weren’t going to help their customers.

I walked to the food court and there were Apple employees everywhere. They had devices plugged in anywhere they could find power, and they were fixing people’s computer/iPad/iPhone problems on the fly. It was impressive. Especially compared to all the other stores who had locked everything up and took the opportunity to NOT help anyone.

Apparently the electricity was out for over two hours. It came back on while I was there. I went back to the Apple store and there was a massive line of angry people. The crowd was eventually calmed by hoards of Apple employees who went person to person to see if they could help with whatever needs right then. A guy came up to me and fixed my phone and another guy’s phone at the exact same time. Then, they took me inside the store, and replaced my AppleTV for free even though their system still wasn’t up and running.

And that is why I love the Apple company.

SuperBowl XLVI will not be one that I forget anytime soon. My memories of this particular night will not be those of Eli Manning or Tom Brady, rather, a different guy named Finn Detzel. He’s the one who always keeps things interesting. My son, the terrorist of my heart.

Some friends invited us out to their house for a SuperBowl party and things were going to be great. It would be nice to get out and go somewhere with our whole family — this particular house was about a half hour away, kind of in the middle of nowheresville. On our way to the party I noticed we were low on gas, but that wasn’t a problem…we would have plenty of time to get gas after the game was over.

Once we were there, things were splendiferous. I unveiled the roasted vegetable flatbreads I’d made earlier. It was a healthy alternative since some of us are trying to drop some poundage. People were talking, kids were playing and running all over the place. Sometimes it’s the most wonderful thing to be at a party that isn’t at your house.

Around halftime, some of the guys headed downstairs into the basement and sat around doing what guys do. That’s when we heard that unmistakable sound. Someone was falling down the steps. I raced across the room and caught Finn just as he bounced off of the floor at the bottom of the stairs. My boy had just kartwheeled end over end down twelve wooden steps.

He screamed, he cried, and then he got over it pretty quickly.

Shortly after that he was running around again. I’d checked him over and he seemed like he was okay. Thank goodness. That boy must be made of rubber I’d thought. But a few minutes later he tired out, sat down on the couch with mom and fell asleep. Five minutes later he projectile vomited all over the place. That’s when we called the doctor. They told us to take him to the emergency room.

We hopped into our van and headed towards a small hospital to have him checked out. On the way, he continued to throw up and that’s when I really started to panic. Could he have actually gotten hurt? He never gets REALLY hurt…just boo boos. He has to be okay. Panic is a funny thing, it can make you quickly forget how low on gas you are and before you know it, your van is sputtering and running out of gas on the side of the highway.

I was able to coast to an exit ramp and just as I came to a stop I told Allison to lock the doors. I sprinted to the closest gas station I could find — well, the second closest gas station, of course the first one would close early. They charged me a ridiculous amount of money for a one gallon gas can, but it didn’t matter. I’ve got to get my boy to the hospital. I filled it to quickly and spilled gas all over myself and the can. Twisted the lid on and I was off sprinting again back to the van. My lungs burned and I was freezing. I’d taken my shirt off and put it on my little buddy since he’d puked all over his own clothes. I hadn’t run like that since my motorcycle accident more than a year ago.

Reaching the van I was sure everything would come together. I emptied the gallon of gas and was ready to take off to the emergency room. But the van would not start. I don’t know if it was just too low on fuel or what happened, but despite my greatest efforts…it wouldn’t go. I punched the hood. I cursed the situation. I wanted to lift the van and flip it on it’s side.

We needed to be rescued and thankfully my wife’s sister and her husband were able to come to our aid. They brought more gas and we got the van started. They took Allison and the other kids home and Finn and I were finally off to the hospital. I reeked of gasoline and I looked insane as we arrived at a small hospital that I’d never been to. I carried my boy inside and we were able to walk him directly to a hospital bed. He was still vomiting profusely. They hooked him up to different machines, asked me why I smelled like gas, asked me if I’d hit him, and poked and prodded.

After about an hour of testing, I thought they were going to give me some good news and let us go home. Instead, they told me they were afraid he might have a skull fracture and they were putting us in an ambulance to take us to Children’s Hospital where he could receive better care. I paced and cried as they loaded him onto a stretcher and put him into that ambulance. I wasn’t allowed to ride in the back with him and angrily rode shotgun to the next hospital.

On arrival, they asked me if I was a mechanic due to the gasoline smell, and again questioned if I had hit him. He was hooked up to other machines and continued to throw up. He cried as doctors tested different things and I cried watching…trying to be strong and comfort him. They put him into a CAT scan machine and I had to hold his arms down and head still at the same time.

Thankfully, he didn’t have a skull fracture, just what they determined to be a “major concussion”. We kept an eye on him for a few hours and they prescribed an anti-nausea medication. After giving me a list of things to watch for, they let us go in the middle of the night. A nurse told me that the Giants had won the SuperBowl. Allison came to pick us up since our van was still in the parking lot at the other hospital. She had to get her cousin to come over and stay with our other two kids since they were well asleep by that point.

Finn threw up around 15-20 times that night and finally got some sleep. The next day he was sluggish and fell back to sleep for the longest nap of his life. When he woke up, he was fine. Back to normal. Ready for dinner. And he’s been fine ever since.

This kid is going to kill me.

Leaving work last night I was feeling groggy. I decided to stop at the gas station on the way home for a caffeine boost. My new checkered purple shirt kept me alert for the majority of Thursday, but it was time for an alkaloid stimulant to take over. As I pulled into my dealer’s driveway, I noticed a woman struggling with something in the engine bay of her car. Searching for a space, I see a man step out from the store and glance over at the damsel in distress. He keeps on a walkin’.

I say out loud, “I will help you, struggling lady.”

A parking space is located and I hop out to assess the situation. “Can I help you with something?” She looks up at me and that’s when I notice the quart of oil and her particular situation. She simply cannot unscrew the oil cap from the engine. “I just can’t get this stupid cap off.”, she says. I think, Lady, you are in so much luck. I am an experienced oil cap remover. I have man hands. Remove your dainty paws from that dirty engine and I will impress you with my hulk-smash power. Or something like that.

I confidently grab hold of the greasy lid and take her for a twist. It doesn’t budge. I change my position and give it all I’ve got effectively twisting my skin halfway off rather than the oil cap. Oh crap. This oil cap is planning to embarrass me and take a whiz on my efforts. So I decide to do what always makes things better…hit it. I don’t really hit it as I would have if she wasn’t standing there though…I rapped on it a few times. Don’t make fun of me…that’s what I did. I didn’t punch it, and I didn’t tap on it, and I didn’t knock. I rapped on it the way I would with a chamber door. The cap surrendered and easily untwisted. I realized I should rap on things far more often.

“There you go. Have a good day.”

As I turn to walk she stops me saying, “Thank you so much. Can I ask you a question?…I um…well…I don’t want to offend you, but…uh…are you gay by any chance?”

Wha? Can’t a guy wear a nice purple shirt in 2012 without…wait…was it my gentle rapping?

“Uh…nope…why?”

“Oh God…I’m sorry. This is ridiculous, but me and my friend always find ourselves in these situations where we need help, but no one stops to help us. We always say, ‘Only gay guys help fat ladies.’ — I’m fat, but you helped me and I just had to see if we were right…sorry.”

This planet sometimes…

“No problem…have a good one, okay?”

On my way home I think about what I should have said instead of ‘have a good one’ and I have a tinge of regret. I should have said to that woman before I left, “You are beautiful!” That would have made the story so much better. That would have made her day so much better, and it would have made me so much better. Next time though…next time I’ll tell her that she’s beautiful. Whoever she may be.

We’re still alive. Thanks for asking.

I’m on the journey of being inspired again. It’s been an interesting year. Leading a church can be really hard…especially when you want to lead a family too. Here are a few updates in the form of iPhone photos…

I know I’ve like my previous babies, but I really like this one. Claire is my pretty little baby. Would you believe she’s more than 4 months old already? How brutal and beautiful time can be.

The kids seem to like each other more and more every day. They fight, they bite, they cause each other torturous strife…but they like each other. And nothing in the world compares to watching your kids play together.

Even though Finn is 3 years younger, he is almost as big as his older sister. He gets more hilarious every day…probably because we can understand more of what he’s saying now. That kid says a lot of funny stuff.

More soon…

Kristin! And a very deserving random winner you are. Enjoy your $25 Amazon gift certificate.

I’m teaching something soon about adventure, and how it can pull you from a rut.

You can enter yourself into a random drawing for a $25 gift certificate from Amazon.com by answering this question:

What’s one of the biggest adventures you’ve ever been a part of?

Answer that by tonight at Midnight and you’ll be entered to win. Easy peasy.

Proverbs 14:4 says,

Where there are no oxen, the manger is empty, but from the strength of an ox come abundant harvests.

Without oxen…the stables stay clean. You don’t have to pick up ox poop. There are no ox-related problems to deal with. Life is less messy. It’s easier. But…

You don’t get any fields plowed.

There are no ox-related benefits to reap.

The use and blessing of a working ox isn’t a part of your life.

This has nothing to do with livestock.

Perfectionism has no place with humans. Every strength has it’s weakness and every gift has it’s downside. Are you going to be like the man who buried his single talent in the field because he was afraid he couldn’t do something perfect with it?

If you want to accomplish anything of value, you’re going to have to shovel some crap.

The terrors of the night can be overwhelming when you’re two.

Is there something under the bed?

What was that shadow?

I’m going to find mom and dad.

It doesn’t happen often, rather, what seems like the most perfect interval of time. Sometime between 2 and 4am I am invited into overtime with my boy. We’ve tried to send him back to bed, but on certain nights…you just know. And so we grab our blankies and we head into the living room. We snuggle and watch a movie or play a game on a digital device that we take for granted.

For certain people, overtime means pay plus another half…if it’s really special…double your normal wage. I’m not sure how to calculate what this falls into, but I love the overtime with my son.

I’ve been letting this little baby Claire sleep on me whenever I can…

I’ve been taking pictures of other people too…

I’ve been working closely with this dirty guy…

He is now the Executive Pastor of Vineyard Westside Church. He executivizes things.

I’ve been getting used to my new position at work. A little over a month ago, I was promoted to Senior Pastor. Although I’d prefer to be called Señor Pastor…it’s going pretty well so far. I’ve got a lot to learn, but thankfully God has been giving me what I need day to day.

Someday…I may blog regularly again.

Mama did exceptional this go around. Labor was rough, but I’d like to say she dominated it. Even though this was our third baby, we still had a lot of unknowns this time. With Ava and Finn, Allison had minor complications resulting in a C-Section and a forced induction. For you car nuts out there, this means my son was turbocharged. This time everything went according to plan, therefore, it was Allison’s first experience with the waiting game of full labor.
Babies really shouldn’t take so long to bake.

Lots of waiting eventually leads to 10 minutes of pushing and all of the sudden there’s another human lying on your chest. It’s surreal to say the very least. Babies are God’s way of saying that the world should continue. You have to agree when you hold a newborn and get lost in their massive tininess.

Claire Adele Detzel (that’s what we’re calling her despite the pleas of many people who are not her parents) was born on September 21st. She weighed in at 8lbs 14oz…a solid pound and a half heavier than her big brother.

Coming home was a little scary. A new human was getting ready to move in on the turf of a 5 year old and a 2 year old. This could be disastrous. But Claire was welcomed with open arms and her sister even devoted a wall to her.

Baby boy becomes big brother overnight and Big sister becomes downright stoic.
Mom and dad can’t help but to beam in awe at the 3 marvels set before them.

I am a very rich man.

My Granddad, Ralph Detzel, passed on from this life and received his ultimate healing on Monday morning. The phone buzzed early enough to worry about whatever news waited on the other end. I answered, listened, and only responded with “Oh…okay. I’ll be right there.”

I arrived at the hospital 20 minutes later and it was surreal to see his lifeless body lying there. His soul had gone and there was now an obvious vacancy. It hit most of us harder than we expected it to as if he had tricked us one last time. So many false alarms and so many recoveries. Even though he seemed so diminished, I think we still secretly believed he would pull through once again. Even if only to suffer a while longer. But, he went quickly and sprinted the last 100 yards of the marathon.

At 77 years old he took his last breath with his wife of 54 years sitting right beside him. She made the initial call and within the hour Ralph was surrounded by his boys. 4 sons, a brother-in-law, and his grandson. I looked around the room and felt an honor I can’t explain. We were his guys. The ones who were there for him when he needed us. What a privilege.

Romans 8:28 says,
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.

In all things God works for the good…

Even during the bad…even in the suffering. And He did just that. When Granddad’s vitality went missing, we were invited to the search party. He couldn’t cut the grass anymore, so my Uncle Jay was there. Computer problems again and again…my dad and Uncle Eric were there. Needed rides to doctors appointments…my Uncle Jack and I were there.

We got to spend so much more time with him because he needed us to. I had more conversations with him in the past year than my previous 28 years combined. All of us did, and it was so good.

Most men use guns or bows to hunt…my Granddad used Beagles.

Most quiet men are shy and reserved…my Granddad was an excellent dancer who could Jitterbug circles around you.

Most hardworking mechanics lose their gentleness…my Granddad could throw darts and shoot pool like a champ.

I am going to miss him, but I also realize he was born to Heaven on that day and he has all the peace, rest, and happiness that he was missing out on these last few years. This brings a gladness to my heart and closure to the chapter.

Enjoy your eternal time Granddad, as one of God’s airborne troopers. We love you – see you soon.

I’d like to apologize for the poor quality photoshop job above…I did it in 30 seconds.

A few friends of mine were recently discussing the climate of multiple areas in our fair city. I live in Cincinnati. That means a variety of things to those of us who live here, and it means a variety of other things to those who don’t. One of the things it means to all of us, insiders or outsiders, is this; our sports teams suck.

Now before you jump on me for agreeing with this statement (you know…those few fans that actually exist), I’d like to say that I do not agree with this statement. Are our sports teams the greatest? Nope. But, I am a fan of those teams. Because they’re my teams. They represent my city…sort of. I say “sort of” because how many of the Cincinnati Reds were born and raised in Cincinnati? How many Bengals were born and raised in Cincinnati? They represent us…sort of.

It would be an entirely different situation, and quite a bit more understandable, if our professional sports team were a true representation of the talent that comes from our stock. How awesome would that be? Think about it. Every Reds player a native Cincinnatian. Every San Francisco Giant player a native San Francisconite. I actually have no idea what you San Fran people call yourselves. But you can imagine what I’m saying.

What I am not saying, is that I believe our professional franchises should only be filled with native city players. That’s not going to happen and I don’t know that I’d want it to. The point I am trying to get at is that we place a massive amount of weight on the way that people who get paid large sums of money to play games represent cities that they are not usually native to. It’s interesting. And here’s the part that I hate…

I hate that my city lacks the ability to hold it’s head up high because our sports teams aren’t winning championships.

There is a proverb that says, “They will grumble when the market prices are high, and they will grumble when the market prices are low.” It’s absolutely true. It doesn’t make sense at first, but it’s the reality we live in.

“Gas prices are too high!”

{gas prices drop to record lows for the past few years}

“Yeah…but I’m sure they’ll shoot back up soon!”

Even when we catch a break, or experience a blessing of some kind – we’re quick to dismiss it and focus on the negative. It happens in all sorts of areas, but the one that really sticks out to me is with professional sports.

“The Reds have a 3-game winning streak.”

“Don’t worry, they’ll probably blow it tonight!”

This wouldn’t be a big deal if it didn’t bleed over into other areas, but it does bleed over. I believe this mindset has moved in like a dark cloud over my great city. It wasn’t recent either…I believe it’s been here for many years. As a city, we have a defeated, negative, pessimistic, loser mentality. It’s a sad fact, but I believe it exists. IT. MUST. CHANGE.

Did you know that cities of winning sports teams have been proven to have better economies? Residents of “winning” cities make more money annually and lower rates of unemployment. We’re talking about sports teams people…whether they win or lose…determining the outlook and even real numbers in a city. You’d think we were discussing a salvational issue.

I could go on and on about it, but I think I’ll leave it at this;

If you allow your mentality as a human being to be determined by how well your team plays…

…knock it off.