Free Republic

Chocolate Tree ''All You Can Eat": A Rookie's Tale We were what the locals called "First Timers". "Pace yourself", they would say. What does that mean,"Pace yourself"? I would soon learn. The veterans to this affair were obvious. They were the ones who brought bottles of water or milk. Some even had glasses of wine. Glasses of wine! Many brought their own plates or plastic bowls. I was a rookie, and it showed. The gates opened, and the crowd that had gathered stormed the Chocolate Tree like the opening scene of "Saving Private Ryan". I grabbed a tiger paw and...

He sat alone waiting anxiously from word from his lawyer. Releasing a nervous sigh he glanced at his watch. Time seemed to be at a stand-still as he fretted about the decision that would determine his fate. He leaned forward in his chair wringing his hands pondering the horrific events that led to here. How could he have been such a fool? Often he had been warned about the dangers of the pet he loved. He ignored those warnings, and now it was too late. He was forced live through the nightmare he helped create. “That thing is dangerous”, they...

He sat alone waiting anxiously from word from his lawyer. Releasing a nervous sigh he glanced at his watch. Time seemed to be at a stand-still as he fretted about the decision that would determine his fate. He leaned forward in his chair wringing his hands pondering the horrific events that led to here. How could he have been such a fool? Often he had been warned about the dangers of the pet he loved. He ignored those warnings, and now it was too late. He was forced live through the nightmare he helped create. “That thing is dangerous”, they...

It had been a long and challenging trip. Working for the family business meant a lot of sacrifices, but it was well worth it. After such a long journey, it was so good to finally be home. His wife greeted as he entered. They held each other with a closeness that took forty-three years to fully ripen. She had been the delight of his life. The early days were tough, but as the years passed their love reached heights that he never knew were humanly possible. He often wished she were at his side during his recent travels. There were...

We had planned it all out. The day was supposed to be beautiful. It was supposed to be a joyful bicycle ride. We were supposed to laugh together as we always did. As the driver tearfully agrees, we weren’t supposed to be hit by that truck. We had planned to meet our families to go to the game. Our wives were supposed to chat endlessly as they always did. We weren’t supposed to meet them at the hospital. We had planned to ride again on Sunday again with our wives and children. After Sunday services we were supposed to enjoy...

We had planned it all out. The day was supposed to be beautiful. It was supposed to be a joyful bicycle ride. We were supposed to laugh together as we always did. As the driver tearfully agrees, we weren’t supposed to be hit by that truck.

Do you ever run across a familiar scripture only to be stunned by the immense beauty of the treasure that has always been there at the surface, but somehow was hidden during your previous journeys? When your eyes finally catch glimpse of it, you stand and stare astounded by the discovery that had just been opened to you. How could I have missed this gem? “Therefore, in all things He had to be made like His brethren, that He might be a merciful and faithful High Priest in things pertaining to God, to make propitiation for the sins of the...

I have been reading “The Life and Diary of David Brainerd”. Truthfully, the book is not the most interesting read. However, I vowed to myself that I would complete it. The book is simply the daily dairy entries of an early American missionary to the American Indians. I’m not quite half way through the book, but so far the entries sway between two positions. Brainerd struggles with his feelings of unworthiness and distance from God followed by moments when God feels so close. What fascinates me most about his entries is that Brainerd is often deeply disappointed in how much...

I believe that Christ died to save me from my sins. . . . unless of course they’re the ones I enjoy. I believe that God has a plan for me . . . I just don’t trust Him enough to follow said plan. I believe that apart from Christ sinners will spend eternity in Hell . . . . I sure hope they figure that out somehow. I believe that God answers prayers . . . especially those that I wrap in worry and fret. I believe my church does an awesome job . . . . I just...

It's been a long day. My boss is upset. My customers are upset. My spouse is upset. My kids are upset. I'm sure if he could speak, my dog would say he's upset, too. I want to run. I want to hide. I want to give that dog something to be upset about! Why am I not a joyful Christian? I go to church on . . . most Sundays. I can even remember at least one of the three points in the pastor's sermon. . . or was that Oprah? I read my Bible every. . . now where...

At the tender age of fifteen your beauty first serenaded me. Your pretty blue eyes, delicate lips, and soft flowing hair together created such sweet harmonies. Your precious smile cast an irresistible melody to my young heart. However, in the complacency of marriage your sweet song became muted to me. Selfish pride covered my ears. Indifference drowned out the melody that once made my heart dance. Emptiness might have been our fate except for a beauty whose stanzas were not yet complete. Unnoticed to me at first, your outward beauty had been augmented. A kind word without cause. Honor though...

Each week it’s the same thing. Our players run up and down the court in a freakish Tasmanian frenzy. If we call any plays at all, they are completely lost in execution. I sit there watching, frustrated and increasingly angry. “Guard your man”, the coach chants. Man? Man! Are you serious? Guard the post! Guard the post! Why would you ever run a man defense against this offense? “Get open! Get open!” Seriously? What kind of advice is that? Get open? Run a pick for goodness’ sake. Make him open! “Shoot! Shoot” No! Don’t shoot! Go to the hole! Go...

You would think I could remember this. After all, it’s my rule. That’s why it’s called, “Randy’s Rule”. However, its importance never hits its mark until after I’ve become frustrated beyond measure. My most recent fishing expedition was no different. “Heston, stop that!” “Emma, will you just please stop casting long enough for me to untangle the other 3 lines?” “Payden, please do not cast so close to your sister’s ear!” I lost my chance to catch something because of tangles in trees and attention spans shorter than my own fuse. I lost my cool. Ultimately, I lost sight of...

I am not a good singer, but I love to sing in the choir. I love being able to see the faces of those being blessed in song. I love the privilege of being able to contribute to their blessing. My favorite time to sing is when the song makes me think of being in His presence, lifting my voice with all of the saints in heaven.

There I stood in the center of the great heavenly arena. Seats wrapped around me in a large horseshoe shape. They rose from the floor where I stood to an enormously great height. Directly in front of me was the judgment seat of Christ. All of the saints were taking their places. Seating was assigned from least at the top to greatest at courtside. Miraculously I was able to recognize all of the faces present. Immediately to my left on the bottom row was Paul. Seated with him was Stephen. They greeted one another and chuckled like a couple of...

For a long while, I never gave the Reparations debate much thought. I saw the articles, the protests, the fervor, but was convinced that the logic would falter under the weight 138 years of gone by. However, my apathy ceased when the champion of all liberal causes, Phil Donahue, presented the case for Reparations on his highly acclaimed show on the cable news network MSNBC. Clearly the handwriting is on the wall. Phil and his army of viewers will likely sweep Reparations through Congress after the 2004 elections. Given the inevitable, I have now begun to an attempt to assess...

Timing, they say, is everything. Casey Cagle played only one season as a strong safety for legendary football coach Erk Russell. The year was 1984, and Georgia Southern narrowly missed the playoffs that year. Over the next two years Erk’s Eagles began their storied march winning back-to-back Division 1-AA championships. With his unfortunate timing, Cagle “missed it by that much” as Agent Maxwell Smart might say. The same cannot be said of his political career. State Senator Cagle was first elected to the 49th district in 1994 ousting the incumbent Democrat. Cagle’s election was one in a series of Republican...

I am Southern. I didn’t ask to be born in the south. I just was. My family has lived in the rolling hills of north Georgia for generations. Prior to that, I am told that my band of Grizzles lived in North Carolina after relocating from Virginia. Some very informal genealogy research I’ve conducted suggests we Grizzles (once spelled Grissell) sailed from England to Virginia in the mid-1600’s. I don’t think you can get much more Southern than that. This is not the worst of my crimes. I am . . .well . . .a Republican. There, I said it....

The Washington Post reported the ominous headline today, “U.S. Suspects Al Qaeda Got Nerve Agent From Iraqis”. Earlier this week our dear friends in Hollywood took time away from much needed visits with Mrs. Ford so they could persuade President Bush to give peace a chance. Washington let the world know today that the situation in Iraq is a bit more complicated than fueling a stretched limo at reasonable prices. President Bush has voiced skepticism over the inspections process. Skeptics of the President’s skepticism asked that we allow the inspection process to continue. Even conservative icon Jack Kemp joined the...

Most of us thought it. Some of us have said it. A few have written about it. We all should be excited about it. Could this be the team being fielded to go against W? This is simply too good to be true. An old saying comes to mind. What is it? I can’t recall, but I think it has something to do with some fish and a barrel. A liberal will be leading the minority in the house. No, wait. A California liberal will be leading the minority in the house. Better yet, a San Francisco liberal will lead...