The Power of Prayer

For those of us who practice religion, we know that despite our best efforts, we sometimes can't help but be bored by the banalities of our faith.  Or, better put, by our inability to properly focus our attention on the intricacies of our faith.  Call it what you will, sometimes you just stare holes into your wristwatch or slip into unconsciousness, your head teetering and tottering on your elastic neck while someone at the front of the room tries to save your soul from damnation.   I learned from my father years ago it's better to lean forward, bow your head, and give the illusion of serious, meditative contemplation.

I was thus engaged this morning during Sacrament meeting (in my defense, Celeste is out of town, and she is normally my first defense), when I heard a voice.  No, it was not the voice of God or angels, but it was nonetheless arresting.  It was the voice of the purest form of Southern Redneck; a true backwoods accent that would have put the entire cast of The Andy Griffith Show to shame.   My attention piqued, I looked up to see a fitting man for the voice.  At the pulpit stood a gruffly shaved gentleman I'll call Brother Ray.  Brother Ray is a heck of a guy.  A little rough around the edges, but he's good people, no question.  He just recently started coming back to church after years of inactivity.  He's possesses a unique talent for fixing things with his hands and a heart of gold that urges him to do more than he is asked for less than he deserves.  On this occasion, Brother Ray was wearing a light blue short-sleeved shirt with a forest green tie to go along with his closely-cropped red hair.  In his beautiful Dixiean accent, he explained to us that he had been asked to speak about the power of prayer.

"Well, I hope y'all don't mahnd, but I'm gonna' do somethin' a bit different t' start out."  He then bowed his head and started praying, and we, not knowing what else to do, followed his lead.

"Thank yeh," he said after he finished.  "I'm a bit nervous.  I haven't givnnuh talk in church since I got outta' prison."  He talked about how prayer had been there for him while he was locked up, and that through that experience, he learned that prayer can take many forms.

"You don't have t' be on yer knees t' be prayin'," he said.  "You don't have t' be crying tears big as horse turds er nothin'.  God don't care if yer at home er in yer truck er whatever, he just cares that yer doin' it."  

He then proceeded to tell us about how prayer had saved him from another round of incarceration after he was slighted by another man on an air-conditioning job.  He got in his truck and sped off to the man's home.

"I jumped inna mah truck and flew down the road hot as hell.  I was s' dern mad I thought 'When I get this sucker I'm gonna' break his neck.'  Then I decided to pray before I knocked on his door and got a feelin' to go eat somethin' first.  So I got me a burger anna Coke, and by the time I got back, I didn't have no more hate in me.  I was calm from the Holy Spirit, and I worked out a deal with the man jus' like that."

He topped off a wonderful talk, peppered with the occasional non-sequitur, by thanking his wife for sticking with him, and expressing his love for his two boys.  "The younger one there, I think he might a been born with twelve night-crawlers up his butt cause that boy can't sit still, but I love 'em."

I didn't sleep a wink.

How To Make a Cornhole Set

For those of you who know me well, you know that I was raised on sports, politics, and mixed cereal.  My siblings and I were very well taken care of in our youth, but with an attorney for a dad and a homemaker for a mom, let's just say we never learned how to build things, repair things, or perform tasks under the hood of a car.  Of course, we learned other things with as much if not more value (I can tell you the name of every president and state capital while juggling fruit), but it has hurt my standing with the bonafide country boys of the Carolinas when they all start swapping stories of replacing alternators or framing a house, and I'm standing there like a fool concealing the fact that the only tools I own came from IKEA.

If this looks familiar, then you know my pain. 

My oldest brother Wade has probably done more than any of us to self-correct our overly white-collared upbringing.  A few years ago he bought some land at the south end of Cache Valley and started to farm it.  Just like that, he went from being a business man to Farmer Joe (actually, he kept doing the businessman thing during the day, then farmed by night, just like Batman).  He went from knowing nothing about farming to tilling his own ground, raising his own goats, and castrating his own pigs.  Nothing says "I'm a man" like slicing off a pig's genitalia, then living to tell about it.

I wasn't ready for livestock castration (nor will I be in this lifetime), so I recently endeavored to do something that would callous my hands and require the use of highly dangerous power tools (using a tool that has enough torque to take off your left hand really lets people know you mean business) to bolster my blue-collar credentials.  And so, I decided to build a Cornhole set.

For those of you who aren't familiar with Cornhole it's a very popular sport down here in the South.  You find it being played at barbecues, tailgate parties, and on the infield of a NASCAR race.  It's kind of like horseshoes, but without the need of a sandpit, stakes, or a sledgehammer.  You can buy a set online, but building was easy and fun.  Here's how you do it, in the most technical terms I can summon:

1. Buy a bunch of stuff

You'll need wood, and lots of it.  I recommend purchasing it from a lumberyard or a home improvement store as opposed to chopping down a nearby tree, but whatever works for you.  You'll also want to pick up some nails, screws, a hammer, and several thick gauze bandages.

Avoid if possible.

2. Assemble the stuff

Cut the wood to size using a table saw, mitre saw, or extremely gritty sandpaper.  To assemble, put screws in the wood and connect the wood.  While Elmer's glue would probably be fine, these screws will ensure a stronger bond and a longer life for your cornhole boards.

3. Make the stuff look cool

Using primer, paint, and polyurethane, decorate your cornhole boards to your liking.  Favorite sports teams are very common, but as you can see from the example below, there's plenty of room for creativity (fresh tip: choosing a red color scheme for your boards is a great way to help hide those unsightly blood stains!)

An unfortunate decision.

4. Enjoy the stuff

Grab your cornbags and get throwin'!

Go Pack.  Go Heels.  Huzzah for summer.