The Kingdom, The Kids, & The Cowboys

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Category: Carrie-Anne (Page 1 of 14)

It Can’t Be Both

June 10, 2025 / / 0 Comments

We went to Houston last weekend for Carrie-Anne’s annual follow-up at M.D. Anderson and she got another perfect report. She’s great. No signs of cancer anywhere. Perfect picture of health. The doctors and oncologists refer to Carrie-Anne’s breast cancer as “history,” something in her past. Just walking the halls of M.D. Anderson, you’re reminded that not everyone gets that outcome. And we are eternally grateful. Two more years, two more of these annual appointments, and they don’t ever want to see us again. As wonderful as they are at that place and as beautifully as we’ve been treated, we’re good with that.

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“When Peter came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he was clearly in the wrong… he began to draw back and separate himself from the Gentiles because he was afraid of those who belonged to the circumcision group.” ~Galatians 3:11-12

Peter is refusing to share meals with Christians who have not been circumcised. He’s drawing back and separating himself from the Gentile Christians because some of the other Jewish Christians have started to talk.

Evidently, the Jewish and Gentile Christians in Antioch were all eating together. They were all experiencing and expressing their Christian unity together at these communion meals, these fellowship feasts. They weren’t worried about the Law of Moses because they’re all one in Christ. They ate together all the time. And when Peter came to Antioch, he joined in. He’s good. He’s participating in these church meals, these symbols of Christian unity. But then these Jewish Christians from Jerusalem show up and Peter excuses himself from the table. Either the presence of these men or their message–something–shook Peter up. The text says he was afraid. And he stopped eating with the Gentile Christians. His actions were so public and so influential that even Barnabas and some others also stopped attending the meals.

What Peter is saying by his actions is that Gentile Christians are only second-class Christians. Peter and these Jews are claiming to be better Christians. They are more saved, more correct, closer to God’s will, because of their Jewish culture.

If they want to eat with Peter and the other Jewish Christians, if they want the full benefits of God’s salvation, then they have to belong to a certain group: MY group. You have to conform to OUR rules. You have to adopt OUR customs. You have to embrace OUR traditions. Peter is saying, in essence, that salvation and the unity of God’s people is based on both grace and faith and circumcision and the law.

It’s got to be one or the other; it can’t be both.

This is not just a minor disagreement over a technical theological point; this is the very heart of the Gospel. It’s not a little squabble over a biblical interpretation; this is about our identity in Christ. Peter is “not acting in line with the truth of the Gospel” (Galatians 3:14).

When I was young–3rd, 4th, 5th grade, probably–I remember having conversations with Terry Brence, a friend of mine who lived around the corner. We played together nearly every day and I remember talking to him several times about “church.” I told him on many occasions he was not going to heaven because he didn’t go to church. I also remember telling Sherry Taylor, the girl who lived across the street, that she was not going to heaven because she was not going to the right church. She didn’t go to my church.

This is the way I was raised. I could invite my friends to VBS at our church, but I couldn’t attend VBS at their churches when they invited me. It’s not the right kind of church. They don’t do things the way we do things. My parents would invite my dad’s friends from work to attend our Gospel meetings, but we wouldn’t go to their churches when they invited us to their revivals. We were withdrawing and separating. And it wasn’t just our practice; it was our vision and mission!

We were so focused on our Church of Christ distinctives. We were obsessed with what makes Churches of Christ different from everybody else. We took pride in it.

We call it a “Gospel meeting,” not a “revival.” Because “revival” is not a biblical word. Although, it is.

It’s “preacher,” not “pastor.” Because “pastors” are really “elders.” But we don’t call our elders “pastors,” either, because that’s what the denominations say.

And we are NOT a denomination! Denomination is not a biblical word! We are different from everybody else!

We baptize by immersion, we do it the right way. And, yeah, we know some denominations baptize the right way, but they do it for the wrong reasons. 

We call it an “offering,” not a “tithe.” It’s an “invitation song,” not an “altar call.”

I heard Ian Fair say one time that if we were so bent on being different from everybody else, why don’t we just put bars on all the church doors and go in and out through the windows.

Well, no, that would be silly. Just make sure you call it an “auditorium,” not a “sanctuary.” 

Our focus on our distinctives, our obsession with what separates us from the rest of the Christian world, has resulted in several generations of us referring to the Churches of Christ as “The Church.”

She was raised in The Church. Are they members of The Church?

We say “The Church” and we’re only talking about us!

We’ll admit that folks in other churches are Christians, we’ll acknowledge that they’re saved. But some of us are reluctant to call them brothers and sisters in Christ. We hesitate to fellowship with them.

That kind of thinking and talking and acting  is the very definition of drawing lines, drawing back and separating. We’re claiming to be better Christians, more saved, more correct, closer to God’s will, because of our Church of Christ culture.

If you want me to call you a brother or sister in Christ, then you have to belong to MY group. You have to conform to OUR rules, you have to adopt OUR customs, you have to embrace OUR traditions. What we’re saying is that salvation and the unity of God’s people is based both on grace and faith and interpretations and methods.

It’s got to be one or the other; it can’t be both.

Peace,

Allan

Net Fishing

March 18, 2025 / / 0 Comments

Carrie-Anne and I were blessed by God over Spring Break to travel with Travis and Donna McGraw and Bryan and Becky Gibbs to visit some of our GCR missions partners in Brazil. We took off and landed eight different times over the nine days, from DFW to Rio and Sao Paulo and from there to Foz do Iguacu and back, mixing in some incredible sight-seeing while meeting and getting to know some of God’s greatest servants.

Our first stop was in Niteroi, where we were privileged to worship and I was honored to preach with our brothers and sisters at Nathan and Sarah Zinck’s church. Carrie-Anne and I have known the Zincks since our days at Legacy when they were in the beginning stages of raising support for the mission in Niteroi. Nathan translated–paraphrased (?)–while I preached the groaning and glory from the middle of Romans 8. And we sang in Portuguese some of our favorite songs like Love Lifted Me, Because He Lives, Oceans, and You Are Holy. GCR provides financial support for the seasonal interns who work with the Zincks, and it was good to meet them and see where they live.

 

 

 

 

While we were in Niteroi / Rio, we took a train to the top of Mount Corcovado to see the iconic Christ the Redeemer statue that overlooks the city.  Nathan gave Carrie-Anne and me a personal tour of Sugarloaf Mountain, the 1,300-foot peak that rises straight out of Guanabara Bay and is accessed only by a series of cable cars. I also accidentally ate a grilled chicken heart. And we enjoyed a lot of really good Brazilian pizza.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

From there it was off to Campo Grande and the Ser Cris Bible School that GCR has supported financially and spiritually since its establishment in 2001. I had met Zanatta, the school’s director, last fall when he visited us in Midland. But what a joy to hang out with his wonderful wife, Leila! And what a thrill to meet the talented professors and staff at this important school. I so enjoyed talking American football with Breno and Gabriela and listening to his deep thoughts on the damage digital media is doing to the Church’s witness and our Christian discipleship–kindred spirits! David was so generous and kind. Jose Luiz was so hospitable in hosting us. It was obvious to see the love these teachers have for one another and the great team they are together. And they merged us right into the jokes and the prayers, the planning and the ministry.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ser Cris is an ecumenical training school for preachers, missionaries, and church planters and anyone wanting a good, solid theological education. A dozen different churches have been started by graduates of Ser Cris in eight different Brazilian states. And the numbers of students is finally on an upswing again after some COVID and post-COVID dips.

And I was diagnosed with pneumonia on Tuesday. I spent six-hours in a Campo Grande emergency room with Carrie-Anne, Becky, and Leila. Blood tests, a CT scan, two breathing treatments, and three prescriptions. Total cost for all of it: $330. Socialized medicine? Why not!

We added two days of sight-seeing to the end of our trip so we could visit Parque Nacional do Iguacu where Brazil, Argentina, and Paraguay all come together at the incredible Iguassu Falls. It took all of both days to see the glorious canyons and hundreds of falls, from the tops of the cliffs on the Argentina side to the roaring and foaming pools on the Brazilian side. I have no words to adequately describe the beauty and the power of these waterfalls. And the hundreds of pictures and video I took don’t come near doing any of it justice.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We got home Saturday afternoon, thankfully, the day after one of the worst wind and dust storms Midland has seen in decades. And, yes, of course, I have already been to Whataburger and Abuelo’s.

There are tons of things to write regarding this extraordinary trip. There is so much I am still processing; our time in Brazil was significant on several levels. But let me attempt to share with you today a main takeaway. This is important.

When our Lord Jesus says we are fishers of people, I typically picture one guy–me–holding a rod and reel. Back when I used to fish around the Highland Lakes in Central Texas, I used a rod and reel from a friend’s boat or from the top of Wirtz or Starcke Dams. Fishing, to me, has always been experienced as a solo venture, just me and my line and hook.

But that is not how God sends us out. We’re not sent into the mission with a rod and reel, but with one giant net. Followers of Jesus are net-fishers. God is redeeming the world and restoring all of creation with one huge net and every single one of us has our hands on it. It takes all of us, in our own time and context, with our own gifts and abilities, to drag this soul-winning net all over the globe.

It’s not the size of a volleyball net, it spans the continents and centuries of human time and space. It takes disciples of all ages to hang onto it. And we all play a part in the net’s sweeps and dips. A song written by Charles Wesley here. A plane assembled by Boeing there. A pie baked by a widow in 1843. A sermon preached in the 6th century. An invitation to church. An encouraging word. A check sent. A GCR mission trip to Brazil in the 1980s. A baby adopted. A door knocked. A burden shared. A hospital visit. A Gospel meeting. A Vacation Bible School. A thank you note. An article in that biblical journal. The weaving together of all our individual and meager threads becomes God’s great net.

Do you see it?

The net sweeps across the whole world and back. It turns and dips to snag one more soul, to start one more chain reaction you and I never could have planned or seen coming. While you and I were sleeping last night, the net was moving by the power of God’s salvation Spirit. Maybe there is a soldier in Ukraine or a single mom in Vermont or a taxi driver in Tokyo or a school teacher in Kenya who’s been swept up into the net by the love of Christ since you went to bed last night.

I’m holding the same net that’s being held by Zanatta and Breno, which is the same net still being held by the apostles Peter and Paul. You are working the same holy net that’s being held by Nathan and Sarah Zinck and Eugene Goudeau and Jack McGraw. You think you cover an insignificant amount of square footage in God’s Kingdom. But you really cover the whole earth with our God’s glorious net.

Peace,

Allan

35 Years, 4 Churches, and Missed Extra Points

November 25, 2024 / / 1 Comment

Thirty-five years ago today, Carrie-Anne and I drove in my blue Ford Ranger pickup to Amarillo, from my efficiency apartment in Pampa where I was working my first job out of college at KGRO-KOMX radio, and flew to Las Vegas and eloped. We got married at 11:45pm, Saturday November 25, in the basement of the Clark County courthouse, by a sheriff’s deputy who was playing a game of checkers with a co-worker when we arrived. We weren’t the only ones getting married at the courthouse that night, but we were the only ones who weren’t drunk. The “ceremony” lasted less than two minutes. It was more about deputy Myers confirming our identities and making sure we signed on the correct lines. We stayed at the Fitzgerald on the Vegas strip, ordered Domino’s Pizza delivered to our room, and got up at 6:00 the next morning to fly back to Pampa because I had to be at work Monday for my adult contemporary hit morning show.

Even today, I have no idea what we were thinking. Carrie-Anne and I have made a lot of impulsive decisions together over the years, but that was by far the biggest–it probably set the tone for our behavior together as a married couple. And, it is, I should note, by far the best.

Sometimes my head and my emotions still think the mid-30s is the age of my dad, not my marriage. It’s hard to grasp the idea that I’m old enough to have done anything for 35-years, much less be married. But most of the time, it feels like Carrie-Anne and I have always been together. Always. You know what I’m talking about, like I can’t even begin to imagine my life without her. Actually, it’s not really my life, it’s more like our life. Our life together. I don’t really think in terms of “me” or “my” anymore; it’s “us” and “ours.” Always.

Being married to Carrie-Anne for 35-years is an indescribable blessing from our God and an undeserved honor from Carrie-Anne.

Thirty-five years ago today was the first time I ever flew on an airplane. We had a short layover in Denver on the way to Vegas and bought matching Broncos sweatshirts in an airport gift shop. We got married at the courthouse because it was just a ten dollar fee and the Elvis chapels were all between $75-150. Everything about that weekend was an impulse. Or insanity. Or instinct.

Best decision I ever made and the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.

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At the end of last night’s 4 Midland Thanksgiving service, Darin Wood, the pastor at First Baptist who hosted us so graciously and generously, asked everyone to stand and hold hands across the aisles while he led us in a closing prayer. We were at the end of 65-minutes of worship together across our denominational lines. The combined choir was made up of worship team members from all four of our churches: First Baptist, First Presbyterian, First Methodist, and GCR. We sang a few familiar hymns like “Fairest Lord Jesus” and “Majesty” and a couple of songs I’d never heard before. Each of the four preachers got about nine minutes to remind the almost one thousand Christians in attendance how special this is, how blessed by God we are, and how important a witness it is to our city. We poked fun at ourselves and laughed, we clapped and cheered at the experience of our unity in Christ and the desire for even more expressions of it going forward, and we sang at the tops of our voices. And then, at the end, Darin asked us to hold hands together across the aisles.

I don’t have a picture of it. Not yet. I’m working on it. Surely somebody took it. The only photograph I have in my possession right now is this one Ryan took from the front row. It’s of us four pastors, holding hands in front of our churches. Or, more accurately, in front of God’s Church.

The real scene was in those pews. The physical act of embracing our unity in Christ, the literal movement across aisles and toward one another in Jesus, the visual experience and expression of God’s will for us in Jesus, was overwhelming to me. I confess, my eyes were not closed during that prayer. I can’t be sure my jaw was not on the floor in amazement and awe at what our God is doing in and through our four churches in Midland.

The day began with a preacher swap. I opened my sermon at First Baptist by just looking at the congregation for about 20-seconds, silently, and then saying, “You think this is weird? We’ve got a Methodist in our pulpit today over at the Church of Christ!” Meanwhile, Steve Brooks was telling the folks at GCR a story about his decision to become a pastor, and how he never dreamed it would ever lead to him preaching at a Church of Christ! There was also a little texting stunt that blew up my phone–our church at GCR seems to be easily influenced by outside sources. And, yes, I did stumble off the first step of the stage at First Baptist while I was preaching. I was mortified. Embarrassed and shocked. I tried to make a joke about it, but it was lame. One guy told me after church he was glad I caught myself because their insurance isn’t very good. I was told last night they edited my misstep out of the video version that will appear on their website. Grace.

There’s a lot to talk about and think about as it relates to our 4 Midland events yesterday. I’ll make just two observations right now.

One, we four pastors never once talked about what we were going to talk about in each other’s pulpits. Seriously. We have lunch and pray together every month, we’ve been planning this special Sunday together for almost a year, we’ve been emailing and texting about this for a long time, but none of us felt compelled to talk about what we were going to talk about. Nobody questioned anybody with a, “Hey, you’re not going to say this, are you?” Nobody cautioned anyone with a “Make sure you don’t say that.” It never happened. The friendship we share among us has led to a growing trust that makes those kinds of conversations completely unnecessary. We see our relationships as a partnership in the Gospel of Jesus Christ, which has led to a mutual trust and respect for one another and for our four congregations, so that it never occurred to any of us to preview one another’s sermons. Can you imagine a kind of love and trust for each other, a kind of unified understanding and sense of purpose, that would lead preachers to invite other preachers from different denominations to speak to their congregation on a Sunday morning like that? Without insuring they won’t bring up a controversial issue or say the wrong buzzwords?

That’s the power of relationship and grace.

My hope is that by modeling that kind of trust and respect and love and honor between us pastors, our churches will learn to exhibit those same behaviors with other Christians and other churches and, by God’s grace, eventually some kind of Gospel movement might happen in our city.

Secondly, I must acknowledge that while we were worshiping together with the 4 Midland churches last night, not one person was focused on the issues that historically have divided us. Nobody was thinking about the nuanced differences in our baptism theology or our communion practices. Nobody was distracted by our different church leadership structures, our different views on ordination, or what we call the preacher and the auditorium / sanctuary / worship center. None of that mattered last night. We were in a room with a cross, a table, and water. We were with baptized disciples of Christ who claim Jesus as Lord. What else is there, really? Nothing else mattered last night. Which tells me, none of those other things really matter much at all.

People keep telling me that last night was a little glimpse of heaven. Yeah, none of those things we argue about are going to matter there, either.

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It took the worst special teams game in NFL history for the Cowboys to beat Washington yesterday and end their five game losing streak–two kickoff returns for touchdowns, two missed PATs, three missed field goals, and a blocked punt. The two teams combined for 41-points in a wildly entertaining fourth quarter. They gave us a year’s worth of crazy highlights in a single half of football. They gave us some energy, finally, in a rivalry that was once the best in football but has been dead now for about 20 years. They gave us a heart-stopping finish. But they didn’t give anybody any illusions that the Cowboys were somehow about to right a sinking ship.

Peace,

Allan

Stadium Glare and Septum Repair

November 14, 2024 / / 0 Comments

It will forever be hilarious to me that Jerry Wayne spent over a billion dollars to create the only football gridiron on the planet with an East-West orientation. Now, he’s tripling down on the end zone windows, claiming that it provides a home field advantage for his team. Evan Grant crunched the numbers and is reporting that the Cowboys are 29-29 in all games at AT&T Stadium that start between 3-7p. The team is 107-68 in home games that start at 12noon or evening prime time. It’s not the only thing preventing the Cowboys from winning a divisional playoff game for now the 29th year in a row. But this week it is the most glaring of hundreds of things Jerry does to get in the way of his team.

In other news, watching the Cowboys this season is reminding lots of people about the ’89 team that went 1-15, the Campo years with Quincy Carter, Anthony Wright, and Chad Hutchinson, and even the 1960 expansion team that didn’t have the benefit of an NFL draft. The numbers are historically bad. We are watching one of the worst Dallas Cowboys teams of all time. And, yes, one of the worst NFL teams of all time. This version of the Cowboys is the first team in NFL history to trail by over 20 points in five straight home games. That record should be extended against Houston on Monday.

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Carrie-Anne and I spent five days in Los Angeles recently so a world-renowned surgeon could operate on a sinus/septum issue that’s been causing her problems for much of her life. It’s a one centimeter hole on the inside of her tiny nose that has led to a lifetime of migraine headaches and sinus infections. There’s a guy in Houston who fixes these by cutting across the bottom of the nose, pulling all the skin up toward the forehead, and knocking it out in about an hour. Yikes. This guy in L.A. goes in through the nostrils and takes more than five hours to, in his words, carefully build the ship inside the bottle, with tiny instruments and cameras.

After the pre-op appointment Thursday afternoon, C-A and I ate dinner at the iconic Mel’s Drive-In on Hollywood Boulevard and then that was pretty much it for the next four days. They wheeled her back for the surgery at 8a Friday morning and we didn’t leave until after 5p. And she was absolutely miserable. Super sore. Swollen. Groggy. A little discolored. And absolutely not wanting to leave our hotel room for anything.

So, yes, we spent the whole weekend watching football and movies in the Hampton Inn in L.A., less than five miles from Hollywood and the Sunset Strip and less than 10 miles from the beach.

Thankfully, her follow up appointment was Monday morning. Dr. Hamilton pulled the packing out of her nose and nasal passages–about three miles of gauze that I thought never would stop coming–and checked her out and gave us some care and maintenance instructions and sent us on our way. Carrie-Anne still didn’t feel great, but she was good enough for us to drive up and down about twelve miles of the Pacific Coast Highway and eat lunch at Duke’s on the beach in Malibu. A long, wonderful, relaxing lunch. Coconut shrimp and fried fish, while watching the pelicans dive and the dolphins jump out on the sea. I don’t think C-A actually tasted any of her food, but we had a blast.

We got home Tuesday night and today Carrie-Anne is still a little swollen, still very sore, and still unable to breathe through her nose. There’s a protective foam packing inside her little nose that’s supposed to come out tomorrow. They gave her a solution to spray up there that’s supposed to dissolve the foam and pretty much take care of itself. We’re very hopeful. The suspense is killing us.

The good news is that her follow-up in L.A. is December 5 and we’re planning to spend three full days doing the touristy stuff we couldn’t do this time. We won’t go back to Mel’s–I think a person only does that once. But we’ll hit the Hollywood Walk of Fame, cruise up and down Sunset Strip, maybe take in a show, see if Jimmy Kimmel’s taping one of those afternoons, and go back to the beach. In our sweatshirts, probably. And we’ll certainly go back to Duke’s. Carrie-Anne will be able to taste her fish then. And she’ll let me take pictures.

Peace,

Allan

Rangers – Astros Pics

July 16, 2024 / / 0 Comments

Carrie-Anne and I put the finishing touches on our summer vacation with a long weekend in the Bayou City. Of course, nobody plans a trip to Houston in July, but C-A had her one-year check up scheduled at M.D. Anderson. Yes, it’s been a full year since Carrie-Anne completed her last chemotherapy treatment and was pronounced cancer-free by our surgeons and doctors in Houston. The appointment  was already on the books and, as our great fortune would have it, the Rangers were also in Houston at the same time to play the Astros at Minute Maid Park. So, our one-day trip turned into a four-day trip so we could take in a pair of games in one of baseball’s best rivalries.

Upon our arrival in H-Town Thursday evening we encountered a significant hurricane-related issue: our hotel was without power and totally shut down. Five days after Beryl, and there were still almost a million people without electricity, including at our Hampton Inn. There was no one there to help us, no one to talk to about our reservations and next steps, no one answering any phones–just two handwritten signs on the doors that said “NO POWER.” We learned over the next three hours that lots of hotels in the Houston area were down and the ones that were operational were all full with Houston residents looking for some relief and utility workers who had streamed into town to help restore the power. We got on two waiting lists and finally secured a room for Thursday evening at one place and for the next two nights at another.

Praise our God, C-A’s appointments were great. All clear again! If nothing happens of concern–it shouldn’t–we’ll do two more of these over the next two years and be totally done with all of it. Thank our Lord! Her surgeons and oncologists have been so wonderful to us, a true source of encouragement and confidence through this whole thing. We are grateful to God that we got hooked into M.D. Anderson the way we did. We praise him for C-A’s healing and recovery and good health. And we continue to pray faithfully for all those who are dealing with this horrible disease.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Before and after the baseball games, we did some sight-seeing around downtown Houston, mainly around the convention center and the shopping district on Main Street. We took in some of the funky art around the Chase Tower, ate at the downtown Pappasito’s (of course!), and found Biggio’s, a perfectly spread-out two-story sports bar that bears the name of the legendary Houston Hall of Famer.

As for the baseball games, we scored some wonderful seats about 30 rows up from the third base on deck circle and experienced a blowout win by the ‘Stros and a dramatic extra-innings win by the Rangers. We saw the Rangers’ season-long offensive woes up close and personal–nobody on this team outside of Semien and Seager are doing anything. Whereas the booing seemed to motivate Adolis Garcia last year, it’s having the opposite effect now–the Rangers playoff MVP looks lost. Andrew Heaney gave up a couple of bad homeruns and Rangers-killer Jose Altuve did it to us again. We wore our rally caps dejectedly for most of Friday’s game, but then delighted on Saturday when Nathaniel Lowe won the game with a two-out RBI single in the 10th. This was right after Carrie-Anne got really worked up screaming for Mauricio Dubon to get tossed for arguing an overturned call at first base in the 9th. Big Game Nate did what he needed to do to keep the Astros in check and the bullpen was marvelous, highlighted by Yates’ 1-2-3 10th. The win was truly satisfying and led to some unexpected celebrating with several tables of other Rangers fans at Biggio’s after the game.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We listened to Sunday’s rubber match on the drive back to Midland, a Rangers win that featured another good start by Mad Max and two two-run homers by Josh Smith. Texas took the series, evened up the Silver Boot standings, and heads to the All-Star break one game back of Houston and five behind the M’s in the AL West. And maybe with some momentum. Hopefully.

Peace,

Allan

Chicago Pics

July 11, 2024 / / 0 Comments

Since she’s an academic counselor now and not a teacher, Carrie-Anne only gets two weeks off during the summers. So, if we’re going to do anything or go anywhere, it has to be the first two weeks of July. This year we decided to escape the heat and spent five days up in Chicago.

C-A’s never been to Chicago. I’ve been nine times as part of the two-year Transforming Community program I went through in 2018-2019 and just love the whole city. I know some of my affection for the Windy City is certainly tied to the spiritual growth I experienced and the relational changes that happened with me and our Lord during my retreats there; that was a significantly important time for me and for my ministry–truly transformative. All that is connected with my heart and my head to Chicago, no doubt. But I also just really love a big, bustling, diverse, busy, city with a million things to see and do.

We didn’t do a million things in Chicago this past week. But almost.

I’m mainly just posting a ton of pictures here today. I should have kept up with this while we were on the trip so it wouldn’t be this massive picture dump. But we got up early and stayed out late during those five days. And had an incredibly wonderful time. As always, click on the pic to get the full size.

 

 

 

 

 

We mostly did the touristy things one does while in Chicago. We stayed at the Cambria Hotel downtown, at the corner of Randolph and Dearborn in the middle of the theater district, because most of the really cool stuff is downtown.

 

 

 

 

 

We spent a whole morning at Millennium Park and took all the requisite photos at the iconic “Bean”: the reflections of the downtown skyline, the selfie, the squatty pics underneath the structure, and the zoomed out portrait.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And the splash pad. We didn’t get wet. But we stayed long enough to watch both of the huge face installations spew water on all the kids at least four or five times.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NASCAR was in Chicago over the weekend which made it difficult to walk from Millennium Park to Grant Park along the shores of Lake Michigan. We managed to weave our way around barricades and through the crowds of race fans trying to get a glimpse of their favorite cars and drivers as they unloaded their vehicles and only got flipped off and cussed at once by a cyclist for walking in a bike path.

Of course, we also spent an entire afternoon at the famous Chicago Art Institute where we gazed at the painting that got Cameron so locked up in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and took the somber selfies in front of American Gothic.

 

 

 

 

 

 

You’ve noticed that C-A has straightened her hair. She took the Christmas break to transition from the do-rag to her Q-Tip with a headband thing. And now she’s using her summer break to make the move back to how she looked pre-cancer. The way her hair came back so curly in those super-tight ringlets was surprising and I really thought she was rocking that look pretty well. But I think she feels more like herself now. And she does look beautiful, doesn’t she?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We saw Jersey Boys at the Mercury Theater and laughed our lips off at Second City. I don’t know Jenelle’s last name, but it was her last night at Second City–she’s been part of the group there since 2018—and I promise you she’s about to show up on Saturday Night Live. Or something.  I don’t know what’s next for her, but it’s going to be big. And we saw her on her last night at Second City.

 

 

 

 

 

What else? We spent an evening at Navy Pier and took in the fireworks there over the lake. We did the mandatory architectural cruise on the Chicago River and spent almost all day on the really cool downtown river walk. And we visited the Shedd Aquarium where we fed and petted stingrays and talked back and forth with some Beluga whales.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Luckily, the Cubs were in town so we watched the local boys blank the Halos at the friendly confines of 110-year-old Wrigley Field. Of course, I enjoyed a traditional Chicago-style hot dog, complete with mustard, tomatoes, onions, sport peppers, that neon-green relish, and the pickle on a poppy-seed bun. Carrie-Anne calls it a salad with a weenie. She’ll have no part of it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was easy to root for the Cubs because they were playing one of the Rangers’ rivals from the AL West. And we delighted as the out of town scoreboard on the ivy-covered walls lit up with Rangers runs from their blowout win over the Rays. We stood and sang Take Me Out to the Ballgame as it was led by some B-actor I’d never heard of. And we watched in amazement as 25,000 fans locked arms and swayed back and forth together and sang “Go Cubs Go.” Man, a Cubs game is special. It’s a truly communal thing that I’m afraid could never be replicated in a place like Arlington.

 

 

 

 

 

Oh, and I haven’t mentioned yet that we ate a lot of pizza. Lou Malnati’s was at the top of my list and we made it there at the end of our first full day. Malnati’s gives you the deepest deep dish you can find and it never disappoints. We also got Chicago-style pizza at a place near our hotel called Parlor Pizza Bar and at a joint around the corner from Second City called Professor Pizza. We dined at a couple of historic downtown Chicago pubs and got a fabulous breakfast one morning at Yolk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

We’re home now, but only long enough to mow the yard and do some quick laundry before we take off for Houston. It’s been one full year since Carrie-Anne’s last chemo treatment, twelve months since we rang the bell and my wife was pronounced cancer-free. The first of our annual checkups at M.D. Anderson is set for this Friday; we’re meeting with the cancer surgeon at 9:15 and the oncologist at 11:00. As it turns out, the Rangers are in Houston this weekend to play the Astros, so our one day trip became a two-day trip. And then yesterday it became a three-day trip as we decided to enjoy two Rangers-Astros games instead of one. It’s a vacation! We have to!

Peace,

Allan

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