"Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work." - Thomas Edison

Pam usually works Saturdays but she swapped with someone who needed today off. Good thing, because she's come down with a cold. Bottom line: she's been underfoot all day totally messing up my Saturday routine.

I can't remember the last time I watched a ball game of any variety from beginning to end. I'm too ADD for that. But I made an exception for the Penn State vs. Nebraska game this morning. The best part was before the game began - the team's solemn entry onto the field followed by both teams, every player and coach from both sidelines, meeting at mid-field to kneel while one of the Nebraska assistant coaches led them all in prayer. And this was no perfunctory 90-second prayer. He prayed for quite awhile, and if the players' conduct during and after was any indication he prayed effectively.
After that beginning the teams played a good game that lacked any of the chest thumping and bravado too typical of athletic contests. Sportsmanship ruled.
Penn State lost. After the final whistle everyone in the whole stadium stood and applauded. Just applauded. For a surprisingly long time. Many players from both teams met on the field for another prayer.
Proud to be an American.

I feel lost. Vaguely empty and purposeless. Until the last of the chassis parts come in next week there's nothing I can do on the car. And those steps will only take a couple of hours. After that I'm stymied until the body is back from paint.
Check here tomorrow night for some pics. Hopefully.

I call myself a preacher but I'm really not. Sometimes I hear a true preacher - it seems like they're usually Southern Baptists - and they have a rhythm, a cadence to their preaching that I envy. I talk, they preach. Every word seems deliberately chosen for maximum effectiveness and the total effect feels almost like music. The word oration suggests a speech, and it's not that. It's preaching.
I suppose part of it is cultural. They grew up listening to that kind of preaching and their ears learned it early. They stand up Sunday morning and it comes as naturally to them as rapping does to some kids in the inner city. And for me to attempt that kind of preaching would be about as effective as my trying to rap.
When I preach my sermons in my head the second half of the week I can sometimes hear myself preaching but when I get up on a Sunday morning it comes out talking. I'm not complaining; it's who God made me. But I have a lot of respect for a preacher.