– Two questions, each worth fifty points. 

– Extra credit may be awarded, not to exceed a total of 110 pts.  

– 15 minutes is the allotted time to complete this test.  In the interest of fairness, however,   baptists will have 6 weeks.

– Answers may be submitted by comment or e-mail.  Include name, e-mail address, and the place you want to be buried.


TEST #403B7TX411  Section D


1.  Expound upon spiritual and life applications of the following lyrics.

2.  Name the song and artist.*

*Most of you will need to run a google search.  If you take this quiz in an ATI home, be sure to drape a blanket over your head and the monitor before answering question #2.


“…and the road becomes my bride
I have stripped of all but pride
So in her I do confide
And she keeps me satisfied
Gives me all I need

…and with dust in throat I crave
Only knowledge will I save
To the game you stay a slave
Rover wanderer
Nomad vagabond
Call me what you will

But Ill take my time anywhere
Free to speak my mind anywhere
And Ill redefine anywhere
Anywhere I may roam
Where I lay my head is home

…and the earth becomes my throne
I adapt to the unknown
Under wandering stars Ive grown
By myself but not alone
I ask no one

…and my ties are severed clean
The less I have the more I gain
Off the beaten path I reign
Rover wanderer
Nomad vagabond
Call me what you will

But Ill take my time anywhere
Im free to speak my mind anywhere
And Ill never mind anywhere
Anywhere I may roam
Where I lay my head is home

But Ill take my time anywhere
Free to speak my mind
And Ill take my find anywhere
Anywhere I may roam
Where I lay my head is home

Carved upon my stone
My body lie, but still I roam
Wherever I may roam”

___________ ~___________



My apologies to the poor soul whose post set me on this rant.   You’re a perfectly normal human being, and I appreciate the fact that there are people who have normal lives.  Unfortunately, I’m not one of those people.  I just have issues, and this is one of them. =)

     I have no use in this world for routine.  It’s the very thing that sucks the life out of every moment we draw breath.  It’s the siren song of the world, the ‘sour grape’ that we accept in lieu of the life God made us for – a life of adventure and discovery, where the Spirit directs our every step, and the only routine is abiding in Christ, where we experience constant change as we experience more of Him.  ‘Routine’ seems to be the excuse most people use for a thoughtless, secure and ultimately numb existence.  Whenever I start to settle into any routine, warnings sound off inside me.  I am so prone to become content and apathetic, even in the most simple elements of life, work, and relationships!  My life has always lacked form, consistency, routine, even the basic element of home.  Most of my life I spent hating that fact so much that I didn’t notice that God was using all of that to give me a broader perspective than I ever would have gained otherwise.  Now that I’m starting to mature, the desire for a home, a routine, and a structured American life is starting to set in more rapidly, but alongside it a call from God to surrender that to Him.  To confess that I am a stranger and a pilgrim, and in a very concrete sense I do not seek to be at home in this world.  I’ve really been getting into Hebrews  again lately, specially this part:

 8By faith Abraham, when he was called to go out into a place which he should after receive for an inheritance, obeyed; and he went out, not knowing whither he went. 

 9By faith he sojourned in the land of promise, as in a strange country, dwelling in tabernacles with Isaac and Jacob, the heirs with him of the same promise:

 10For he looked for a city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God.

 11Through faith also Sara herself received strength to conceive seed, and was delivered of a child when she was past age, because she judged him faithful who had promised.

 12Therefore sprang there even of one, and him as good as dead, so many as the stars of the sky in multitude, and as the sand which is by the sea shore innumerable.

 13These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth.

 14For they that say such things declare plainly that they seek a country.

 15And truly, if they had been mindful of that country from whence they came out, they might have had opportunity to have returned.

 16But now they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly: wherefore God is not ashamed to be called their God: for he hath prepared for them a city.

That’s what I’m after.  The chapter goes on to describe my heroes… Those who wandered, destitute and afflicted in sheepskins and goatskins, whose lives would seem to be wasted were it not for the added line, “…of whom the world was not worthy…”.  By God’s grace that’s who I want to be.  Let me wander, destitute, afflicted, a fool for Christ.  I have no greater desire of God but that some day I might join that number “of whom the world was not worthy.”  Even my Lord was a stranger among men.  A man of sorrows, and aquainted with grief.  No, misery does not equal righteousness.  But the faith that kind of life requires, does.  Someday I will have my rest, my home.  But it’s not here.  Peace, rest, and home are found in Christ alone.  Scott Krippayne sings this old song I used to listen to as a kid. Awesome description of peace in Christ.

Sometimes He calms the storm
With a whispered peace be still
He can settle any sea
But it doesn’t mean He will
Sometimes He holds us close
And lets the wind and waves go wild
Sometimes He calms the storm
And other times He calms His child

Peace in Christ is found in the midst of the Battle.  Rest in Christ is found carrying his easy yoke and light burden.  Freedom in Christ is found as his slave.  Home in Christ is admitting you’re a stranger and a pilgrim.  Routine in Christ is constantly abiding in his ever new presence and ever growing purpose.  Life in Christ is death, and life again.  Lose everything to gain something better.  This is the perfect mystery of life in Christ, in the wonder of which I can only echo Paul’s cry,

 O the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! how unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!  For who hath known the mind of the Lord? or who hath been his counsellor?  Or who hath first given to him, and it shall be recompensed unto him again?  For of him, and through him, and to him, are all things: to whom be glory for ever. Amen.

Romans 11:33-36


There’s a kind of emptiness that can fill you
There’s a kind of hunger that can eat you up
There’s a cold and darker side of the moonlight
And there’s a lonely side of love

With you here
Baby I am strong
No sign of weakness
With you gone
Baby I am hanging by a thread

There’s a certain kind of pain that can numb you
There’s a type of freedom that can tie you down
Sometimes the unexplained can define you
And sometimes the silence is the only sound

With you here
Baby I am strong
No sign of weakness
With you gone
Baby I am hanging by a thread

Hanging by a Thread – Nickel Creek


Yet another rainy day.  Bad for work and productivity, great for morale.  I’ve always loved rainy days best.  Storms, rain, heck even hurricanes.  I love ’em.  And today was actually cool enough to throw on a sweatshirt while I dozed off to Nickel Creek (for the zillionth time).  I just can’t wait for fall.  My favorite season is right around the corner and it’s driving me nuts.  There are so many reasons to love the fall, not the least of which is… bowhunting!  I saw a big doe last week on the corner of 14th and Broadway.  For those of you not in Des Moines, that’s downtown, in the industrial section.  Basically nothing but concrete for a mile.  No overpopulation here, nuh-uh.  Got the ol’ Matthews restrung earlier this year and now all I need is new broadheads and I’ll be all set.  Hunting’s never been about the antlers or the meat for me.  I just love being in the woods, specially in the fall.   As far as I’m concerned, there’s no better place in this world than sitting up in an oak tree listening to the wind, smelling the fall air that can only be described as crisp, and watching leaves of fire settle on the forest floor.  It’s my hiding place in this world, my own huge prayer closet. 

     Also, there’s the start of college and (drumroll……)  college football!  Yes ladies and gentlemen, the only sport I care enough about to follow begins September 4 (FSU at Miami, anyway). 

I’m tired.  G’night everybody.


  It’s about 11 thursday night and I have the whole house – and the computer – to myself for once.  I love times like this.  I’m sore all over from a 10 hour work day and then two hours of basketball and workout, but it’s as if my mind is just waking up.  Free for a little from the tiresome concerns of life and business and social maneuverings.  Everything quiet (except my dad’s snoring), it gets easier to hear my own thoughts, as well as thoughts… not my own.  It’s times like this that remind me of who I used to be.  Before the responsibilities, the worries, the pettiness, and the wearisome routine of being pressed into an existence humans weren’t meant for.  I remember hiking in our woods all afternoon on a weekday, just to pray and cry and watch the creation.  I remember writing just for the love of writing, not because I had to spew out a paper before a deadline.  Perhaps best of all, I remember seeing my future very clearly, a time when my choices were of little consequence because of the cushioned bumpers all around my life. 

 “When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.” -I Cor. 13:10

     Slowly, painfully, I realize what I’m becoming – a man.  The age of 18 has nothing to do with it.  Make no mistake:  There are 16-year-old men and 60-year-old children all over.   Manhood is learning to handle the uncertainties, responsibility, and weight of a world I can only surmise that I’ve been placed in “for such a time as this”.  I guess I never considered the possibility that I might one day grow up.  It’s certain that long after the 18 mark, no one took me seriously, and I gave them little reason to.  Life was a game.  If you struck out there was always another inning.  It seems so strange that while there is no set mark of maturity that identifies one as a man, there is little doubt as to the distinction when observing social interactions.  Older and younger people alike just seem to know whether they’re dealing with a child or an adult, regardless of age.  There’s something there that one knows without any rational way of knowing.  Like a figure in the dark: look AT it and you can’t see anything, look AROUND it and it emerges in contrast.  Just sit in a public place sometime and listen.  Listen for the word ‘sir’ and see who it refers to.  Amazing.  In a world where gender, along with race, language, and culture have been blended into annhillation, there’s still an understood dignity that sets apart a man.  Stranger yet is the difficult but apparent truth that manhood is defined in times of hardship, trouble, and adversity.  This last year of fire and blood in my life has just begun to reveal the man inside me that I didn’t know existed.  The only me I’ve ever known is the arrogant boy who avoids hardship and hurt with tricks, games, wit, and blame.  I trusted in these things to be all the strength I would ever need.  I was wrong.   Watching in fear as my defenses were stripped away, from nowhere a strength appeared.  Not really a strength as much as a resolve to face whatever comes.  A spark of courage; brief but bright, quickly quenched by the return of the predictable and safe.  There is nothing more fascinating in my life right now than watching this struggle between the selfish, proud, stubborn boy who dances circles around reality, and the man within – the strength of mind and character that has been honed by God for years and now aches to break free and fight to change a world that the boy can’t face.  A man who has fallen above leaning on his own strength, whose battles are fought on his knees. 

And I’ll let it be known (at times I have shown)
Signs of all my weakness
But somewhere in me, there is strength

And you promised me (that you believe)
in time I will defeat this
‘Cause somewhere in me, there is strength

And today I’ll trust you with the confidence
of a man who’s never known defeat
And I’ll try my best to just forget
that that man isn’t me

~Relient K

  Now that I know I’m becoming this strange adult thing, it becomes abundantly clear that I have to be proactive in deciding WHAT KIND of man I want to be.  Suddenly I find the most insignificant decisions to be impossible tests of maturity, whose consequences could be cataclysmic for myself as well as those my life impacts.  In the gravity that accompanies this thought, I see the great gift of God to all men:  choice.  And through that choice, significance.  I am Adam, and paradise is before me, offered from the hand of Christ my Saviour.  The fight goes on, but tomorrow’s another day.  His mercies are new every morning.

I leave you with a quote that has challenged me all my life.  Back when computers only printed things in small black and white blocks, nothing was more exciting to me then when dad (who was taking classes for computer programming) brought home printed pictures of trains and planes for me to color.  One day I woke up and went to get my schoolbooks and lying on the desk for me was a single page.  There was no picture, but rather, words in large print.  Though I didn’t fully understand it at the time, I’ve never forgotten the words.
“Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear – not absence of fear.”  -Mark Twain