A friend of mine is working at Yahoo and he mentioned that I should really give the special Yahoo program for cell phones a try (just browse to mobile.yahoo.com with your cell phone and you should be prompted to install it). So I downloaded it and he’s right — it’s awesome!
One of its niftier features is that it’s super‐easy to upload pictures directly to Flickr from my cell phone. So I’ve just uploaded some stuff I’ve been sitting on for ages.
Anyway, expect to see some more random pictures from my cell phone now and then in addition to the photos Paula uploads to our family gallery
I’ve been meaning to blog this forever, but I kept forgetting. On the first floor of the renovated Old Union is an acrylic sign telling the history of the building.
For the longest time (months) it had a glaring typo (I think it’s been fixed since I took this photo). It really amused me.
If you have a hard time seeing it, look under the word Union or click on the picture to view it with the error highlighted.
Our College Winter Conference
is this weekend, and I’m in charge. So for the last few days I’ve been bombarded with phone calls or urgent emails relating to some minor crisis about the event. It reached a fever pitch yesterday when I received a message about every ten minutes (or so it seemed).
That’s not a big deal — it’s what you sign on for when you agree to direct a retreat or conference.
However, I also had to preach last night.
Being interrupted every ten minutes does not lend itself to robust sermon preparation. I’m very particular about my sermon preparation routine. I like to research my topic thoroughly, write out what I intend to say word for word, and then rehearse it (at least once, preferably twice). When speaking in the evening, I usually manuscript in the morning and rehearse in the afternoon. That didn’t happen yesterday.
The bottom line is that I walked into last night’s meeting less prepared for a sermon than I have been in years. I felt certain that the message was going to be a flop.
While delivering it, I felt as though I was fumbling for words and rambling incoherently.
But at the end of the evening, one student prayed to receive Christ and another prayed to rededicate herself to Christ.
It was a humbling reminder that it’s not about me and my preparation; it’s about God using broken vessels to achieve His will.
Yesterday we were giving away free homemade chocolate‐chip cookies on White Plaza, and we got all sorts of wonderful reactions. My favorite was from a master’s student in engineering who grabbed a cookie and then looked at the poster next to the cookie pile.
It was an advertisement for the upcoming Francis Collins talk
. If the name doesn’t ring a bell, Collins coordinated the Human Genome Project that decoded human DNA. He’s also a follower of Christ.
Anyway, this guy just stared at the poster for about a minute, befuddlement sprawled across his face. He looked at the picture of Collins on the cover of Nature magazine. He read his scientific credentials. And then he read the topic of the lecture again. Then he sort of murmured, “Wait. This can’t be right. This doesn’t make any sense.”
So we explained that yes, Francis Collins really is one of the world’s leading geneticists. And yes, he really does believe in Jesus. And he’s going to be talking about it Stanford.
The student said he’d be there, and I hope he does show up. He seemed quite earnest. There are a lot of students on campus who don’t allow themselves to consider God seriously because they assume that science and faith are by definition opposed to one another. We hope that by showing them a world‐class scientist who loves God we can dispel some of that prejudice.
I love this job.