Top 10 Reasons Why They *Heart* Me

I may come back later and post an actual picture of my Valentine's Day card once I figure out how to black out the names.

But here they are, in order, according to Miss Kitty and the Anti-Girlfriend:

10. You make us feel like Darling's Day darlings everyday.
9. Well, let's just say Arturo and the Harp.
8. You say, mış mış, Miss Kitty cooks better than Mrs. Yates.
7. We think your blog might win a Pulitzer some day.
6. You know we women love a lacquered rose.
5. You can live on 5 lira a week.
4. You have a poster of Turkish fish on your wall.
3. You cook better than Chinese take-out. Do you deliver?
2. You smell like a Turk.

And finally...

1. Because you're a Turkish boy in a Turkish world.

Number 9 is a great story that I'll have to tell you all in person some day. It won't do to just read it. Number 5 may be an exaggeration. It's really only like 3 lira a week. Number 2 is the one that really worries me. I mean, is smelling like a Turk really a good thing? But Number 1 is just flat wrong. I'm not a Turkish boy, I'm a Turkish MAN!

Thanks for the reciprocation ladies. It is much appreciated!

Stats for Sat. Feb 17th

4 Fouls, 3 Steals, 3 Blocks, 14 Rebounds, 22 Assists, and 5,348,792 points in 92 minutes played.

Oh, and one tackle.

Those are very rough estimates, but should be close. We played BBall with the same boys yesterday morning. And yes, again, they wanted to meet at 8:30. Incredible. But this week was a little better in that they brought more people and we had Crack back, so we had a full court, five on five game going on. It really felt good to run. And we did some running. It became clear to us that if we would just run the court that we could get some easy baskets and wear down the older guys on the opposing team. It worked. I still say we won the game, though the Turkish scoring system seems to be a little off at times, if you know what I mean. It was in this first game that I had a chance to dunk it. I mean, the chance was there, just not the ability. Also, I had a nasty block. I was caught on the short end of a two on one, but it takes more than superior numbers to frighten me. The ball handler drove and went for the lay up. The ball never left his hand. Nothing is more fulfilling than rejecting a shot in basketball. The final game is when I did my scoring, stealing, and tackling. The guy I was guarding was a little reckless with his dribbling and allowed me to take it from him a couple times. He also didn't play a whole lot of defense, leaving me open around the free throw line on numerous occassions. I wish I could say I shot a high percentage, but I'm still working to get the J back. I did knock down a fair number of them though, and probably was among the scoring leaders. The tackle came on a loose ball. It was rolling towards half court and me and their biggest player were running neck and neck trying to get to it. There was a little bumping, trading of paint for all you NASCAR fans. I started to lose my footing, but instead of just giving him the ball and a man advantage, I decided to slide on the ground and grab it. I knew it'd be traveling and that I'd end up out of bounds anyways, but it was better than giving him the ball with me sprawled out on the ground at half court. So I hit the deck and apparently the big man isn't agile enough to avoid a 6'3" guy doing a perfect slide into second and keep his balance at the same time. He ate it, but, thankfully, was okay. Thankfully because even on a broken ankle, he would've been a hand full in a fight. All in all it was my best performance of my budding Turkish basketball career.

I haven't been feeling good physically the last two days, so if you could, just say a quick prayer for that. But if you're going to take the time to pray for me, I'd rather you take a few minutes and pray for a friend of mine who is also sick, and much worse so than me. It is hindering God's work in another country and needs a lot of prayer. Thank you.

10 Days and Counting

Now, I know what some of you are thinking already. C-Love hasn't showered in a week and a half. While that may or may not be true, that is not the point of this post. The point is, today marked the 10th day in a row that I have been up at or before 9 AM. Amazing. Simply amazing. I'd like to think it is a sign of my increased discipline, something that I have been working on recently. But I have to give credit where credit is due. Mrs. V prayed that I would get up for a prayer meeting and every since then I've been inexplicably waking up at the crack of dawn (it's relative). Mrs. V can you start praying for me to learn Turkish and to be able to dunk from the free throw line?

But that's not all the exciting news this week. Valentine's Day was yesterday!!! The one day a year when C-Love really gets to shine. And remember, they don't call me C-Love for nothing!



Miss Kitty's husband is out of town on business and since the Anti-Girlfriend is actually part of "the Unit," I felt the need to do something to let these ladies know that they are loved on V-Day. So I put together a nice lunch of General C's Chicken Fried Kung Pow Wanton Rice, cute bottled Cokes, and Reese's cups (a little sweet for the sweets of the team, if you will). On the table were two of the finest, freshest, and most heavily lacquered roses you can buy from the creepy guy on the street corner, bundled with some wild grasses and weeds picked that very morning from the ally behind the grocery store. And to set the mood, I put together an iTunes playlist of the greatest love songs of yesterday and today, complete with Chicago, Journey, Edwin McCain, and my hometown heros, Hootie and the Blowfish. It was a setting that even Delilah (the radio host, not the temptress and traitor) would've been proud of.

I hope everyone enjoyed their Valentine's Day as much as I did, and that you were awake before 9 to enjoy it.

Basketball at what time?

If it hadn't have been written out in a text message, I don't think I would've believed it. But when me and Chris Mullins decided to meet two Turks to play basketball, they told us to be ready to go at 8:30! Yes, 8:30 in the morning. That was a hard pill to swallow for two reasons. First of all, it was a Saturday. No one, for any reason other than fly fishing or duck hunting, should be awake at 8:30 on a Saturday morning. Since Saturday morning cartoons lost their widespread appeal roughly 15 years ago, I don't think I've been up before 9 on a Saturday for anything. The second reason it was hard to hear is because this past week I have had to wake up at or before 7:30 everyday. I don't like it, but I can handle it when it is work related. But when you start talking about playing basketball with a couple of Turks, it's hard. But, I told myself, I'll regret it if I don't go. And I was right.

We played at a nice indoor court at the local university. Mullins is by far the best player around and I just look silly shooting at the same basket as him. But I will take solace in the fact that I was better than the two Turks. We ended up playing some four on four with some other guys that were there. They play by a whole new set of rules here and at times it was frustrating. But we had fun and headed into town to grab a milkshake (I know, pretty random for a post basketball snack in Feb.) and some lunch. It was on the way home from lunch that things got interesting.

The fact that my church meets in the basement of a rundown mall brought it up, and somewhere between lunch and my house we started talking about God. We covered everything you can imagine over the next two hours. Like Mullins would say later, life doesn't get much better than sitting down with two Muslims, drinking tea, and laying out the plan of salvation directly across the street from a very large Mosque. We hammered on the love of God, the sacrifice Jesus made for us, and our need to put our faith in that in order to be saved. The guy who seemed most interested made the claim that this idea was "the Great Unfairness." Men should be held responsible for their own sins. You are correct my friend. There is nothing fair about it. But God still chose, out of his great love for us, to bear our sins on our behalf. It's not fair and really, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but that's the truth. That's the Gospel.

I think it will take time, but this man seems open. He seems hopeless and sad. He has a very downcast air about him. He needs joy, he needs life, he needs Christ. Whether or not he will ever accept is out of my hands, but I know that he will hear the story again. That is in my control. And, luckily, he wants to get together for basketball again next week.

Rex, you are awful, and the Baker.

First of all, I'd like to say that Peyton Manning was not the most valuable player on that football field. He had a decent game, granted, but he was not the reason that Indianapolis won the Super Bowl. Rex Grossman is. He's awful. I know his completion percentage was actually pretty good. But please people, 20 completions for 165 yards? 2 Interceptions? 2 fumbled snaps? The worst part about having Rex Grossman at quarterback is that you can't "mix it up" much. You're constantly afraid of throwing the ball. The Bears were predictable because they have a handicap at QB. And when the game was still in reach, early in the 4th quarter and only down by 5, Rex made the play of the game for the Colts. He threw a horrible pass, absolutely horrible, that resulted in a 56 yard return for a touchdown and in effect, put the game out of reach. Even though Peyton's numbers were decent, I still say he needs to prove to me that he can win the big game. He threw 8 picks in the post season. 8! That's after throwing 9 during the whole regular season. I can't argue against the fact that he played good enough to win. But I have to disagree that he played good enough to be the MVP.

So with that out of the way, let me tell you about the Baker. He's a short little guy that gets really excited to see me (or any of the local foreigners) come in to the shop. He's always up for talking, which is just what I need to learn this language. Before the game last night, I was on my way to our office to do some studying. I needed to get away from the distractions of home and I needed the fast internet to make some phone calls on Skype. So I was walking to the office with my Bible in hand when the Baker called me over so he could snap a photo of me with his camera phone. I obliged and we started talking. After the usual small talk, he asked what I was carrying. I handed him my Turkish Bible and he opened it up randomly and started reading. That's where the conversation started. It didn't end for over an hour. We covered a lot of ground and he got to read a lot of Scripture. He asked good questions. I would try to give him an explanation and then I would just find some Scripture that spoke to the issue and let him read it for himself. I ask that you continue to pray for him. Ask that the Spirit would be moving in his heart so that he can see the Truth.

There were two funny things that happened last night during this share time. The first is that at one point during the discussion, the Baker told me I was "ters." I did not know this word. But, the Baker had my dictionary in his hand, so he looked it up for me. He found it and read the following definition, "excrement of an animal." You don't say. I asked to see the dictionary and sure enough, the first definition given is "excrement of an animal." BUT, the second definition is "wrong, opposite, contrary." Now, I'm going to extend some grace and give him the benefit of a doubt here and say that he was just telling me that I was wrong. At this point in my time here though, neither one would be a surprise to me.

The other funny thing was actually a thought I had as I left the Baker. The Baker and the Pants Man are the two guys in town that I have shared the most with. They have heard the fullest explanation of our Gospel and they have actually had the opportunity to read the scriptures for themselves. This is great. I love these guys. But the thought occured to me. Isn't it ironic that the two guys I have shared the most with in my brief time in this country are both named Mohammed? It made me laugh out loud as I walked down the sidewalk to the office. How funny.