The Shack

William Young, author of "The Shack", was in Orlando at the Christian Retailers Convention that I attended this last week. After hearing a bit about the book from newly made friends, I found myself in a conference room watching and listening to the author as he told the story of how this book came to be.

I was immediately drawn in by my own curiosity. It held the title of "NY Times Best Seller", and enticed me with the question, "Who is God, really?".

Hmm, I know the answer to that question...at least I thought I did.

Having just read the last page of this masterpiece, I admit that a new found understanding of Him has been revealed. Almost like a new layer has been peeled back and exposed for my pleasure.

I can see why this book has been a best seller. It breaks and rebuilds the reader. It shatters stereotypes and predetermined ideas and replaces them with character traits that are more in sync with what is written in black and red. Truth be told, reading this book was like drinking from a fire hydrant. I will certainly be revisiting this story again and again.

What a phenomenal gift that God has given to us through William Young. Knowing that it will eventually make it's way to the silver screen has me waiting in anticipation.

Bravo, William Young! And thank you.

Chapter one can be read beginning here.

I Know What Fire Tastes Like

I spent this last week in Orlando, FL for a Christian Retailers trade show. I was there to help promote get the WORD out clothing co. with my dear friends and company owners, Robb & Marie Jackson. It is ALWAYS a blast whenever we get together. We all have the same sense of humor, the same deep rooted faith and the same desires to see get the WORD out become everything that we believe it was meant to be.

The first opportunity that allowed us an evening of casual/no obligations dining was Wednesday night. Having previously been there, I recommended that we dine at Tijuana Flats, a local fast/casual restaurant whose claim to fame is their "hot bar".

The "hot bar" consists of about 12 different hot sauces varying in flavor and intensity. On the milder side, you will find "Sissy Sauces" including my personal favorite, "Slap My SWEET Ass And Call Me Sally Sweet". It is the perfect blend of spice and sweetness. It's yummy!

On the extreme opposite are "Death Wish Sauces". I've never ventured to that side of the hot bar, knowing full well that the intensity would be a little over the top for my comfort level.

Somehow in the middle of dinner, my brother in law, Justin, brought over the hottest sauce available. Looking back, I may have mentioned that "hot" doesn't bother me so much as "onion-ish" flavoring. And I may have inadvertently let the words, "Sure, I'll try it," pass through my lips.

As I grabbed a chip and began to thoroughly dip it in the sauce, I noticed that Marie also grabbed a chip and dipped it in the sauce as well. She didn't quite get the same amount on her chip as I did, but the fact that she was traveling down this road of stupidity with me says a lot about her character and loyalty. My sista wasn't going to let me do this alone. So we counted down and on "one", popped our sauce covered chips into our mouths.

Now, you'd think that common sense would have some sort of bearing in my life. I'd like to think that I'm somewhat intelligent. For Pete's sake, I use to write in programming code; I'm not an idiot... on most days, that is. On this particular day, all common sense and intelligence not only left my brain, but also wiped their fingerprints on the way out. You see, I figured that if I was going to truly experience this "Death Wish" sauce, I would need to roll the contents around in my mouth so as to insure complete coverage of the roof, cheeks and tongue before swallowing. So, that is just what I did.

The initial wave of intensity wasn't so bad. It was hot, spicy and intense...but tolerable. And just as I opened my mouth to say so, it hit me. Passing air through my mouth...the simple act of breathing intensified the sauce to an indescribable level. Ten seconds in, the insides of my mouth literally feel like they are ON FIRE. Beads of sweat formed not only on my upper lip and forehead, but also on my scalp. A white fog seemed to have settled around my eyes...could it be the smoke coming from my mouth? And as if they were in a tunnel, I hear Robb, Justin and Jessica laughing hysterically at both Marie and I. At this point, I look over to Marie only to see her sticking her tongue into a cup of ice water. Great idea!! I grab a cup myself and as I lower my head downward, streams of snot come gushing out of my nose.

Once I manage to mop up that lovely mess, I begin to alternate between dipping my tongue and lips into the cup of ice water and wiping the insides of my mouth with napkins. I could give a flying fart about how I look to others in the restaurant and the scene that we are making. The pain is FOR REAL. Unfortunately, neither the napkins nor ice water really help to alleviate the pain. It would seem that time would be the only antidote.

Justin coaches us through the traumatic event with giggles all the while. "Stay with it...enjoy the endorphin rush...stay with it." I'm thinking that I will strangle him when this is all said and done.

Within 5 minutes, I believe we were both able to regain our composure. The pain had subsided enough to allow us to act in a manner which wouldn't warrant a call to the psych ward.

I don't regret the experience. And the fact that Marie stepped up alongside made it even more of an experience. Hey, we bonded in a way that few will ever understand. Never mind the fact that the bonding occurred over a sauce in the same "Death Wish" category as "Ass Reaper" and "Colon Blow".

Ah...good times....good times, indeed.

You just lost one...