A God Is Great Zoe Home Makeover

My mother is world-famous for making connections. She's savant-level at connecting people to people and their moms. And their churches. And their pastors. And the seminaries the pastor went to. And perhaps a professor at that seminary.

Mom: Oh, so you go to St. Paul Lutheran? That was Pastor Keefe's old church.
Target: Yes. Pastor Keefe. He baptized my Linda.
Mom: Keefe baptized my Erin's second grade teacher. Good man. Went to St. Louis Seminary, I think. The Holy City.

That's how it works.

So Mom will appreciate this:
Warning - deep history to ensue:

I was going to drive to Chicago for a shoot and decided that, despite how broke we were, I'd download an album and listen to it. I went to Amazon.com and downloaded a single mp3 of a song I had heard part of on the radio. Loved the guy's voice.

I downloaded the wrong song so I went to download the right song while listening to the wrong song. I loved them both. Decided to download the whole album.

A week or so later, I'm addicted and listening to it as I go to get my pregnant wife's sonogram. They told us my daugher had a heart defect, which would require surgery. I drove back to work listening to a song from the album: Shine Your Light, singing over and over again, Oh My God, Shine Your Light on her, that she might live. I was crying.

I wrote the artist, Robbie Seay, on his blog. I told him thank you for the song, that it was all I had.

Five months later, Zoe was born and God let her live. Her condition, this world's tilting to sin and destruction sought to claim her cells but God wanted her alive. We were told she'd die. Soon.

I wrote Robbie again. I told him thank you for his music because now it truly was sustaining me. Robbie wrote back. He gave me love and support and prayers.

My friends at work became the most profound hands of God I've ever seen. They brought food, they offered help, money, love. They were amazing.

My friend at work, Brooke, had a friend she grew up with, Heather. Heather is married to a pitcher for the Houston Astros. Heather came to work and visited with me and became determined to do something for Zoe.

My friends at work asked Robbie Seay to come give a benefit concert for Zoe. He said he would. And, on her 108th birthday, he performed in Brookfield. We talked and met and prayed.

As a thankyou, Brooke and Heather set up a special treat for Robbie - field-level seats for his favorite team, the Houston Astros. And...a thank you on the scoreboard. And...a meet and greet with the Astros. And...a feature on Fox Sports Net about Zoe and Robbie and Heather's husband, Chris.

Robbie went to the game, and took his brother and a family - the Beach family. The Beaches are adopted and have special needs and are being lifted up by Robbie and Chris's church, Ecclesia. I was so excited that Robbie would get something special from all of us. It sounded like they had a good time. I wrote about it.

A blog reader in Houston read my entry and decided to help the Beach family. She and members of her church gave gifts and support. "Barb read about a family that had reached out to Robbie Seay that needed help. It was a huge family that took in foster children and orphans and lost everything in the hurricane. Barb's efforts allowed her to donate 4 boxes of clothes and $200 in Wal Mart gift cards."

(The "Barb" mentioned above is St. Mipps' sister, Barb. That's for you Mom connection types.)

Barb has continued to support the Beaches. In fact, she nominated them for ABC's "Extreme Home Makeover." Here's Barb's explanation: "Robbie Seay's wife Liz was helping them out and I read about them on Zoe's blog . . . then we decided to help them out . . . so I contacted Liz and it was a done deal. They have 15 kids that they've adopted and foster, all with special needs. Their house was damaged and they were living in side-by-side trailers. They are all at Disney World this week as that crew comes in to makeover their home!

After the fact, I believe he even blogged about how we'd made that connection because of Zoe."

So Robbie Seay is on Extreme Home Makeover. It's filming now, in Houston, and will be on in March.

Jen says, "I've decided. They will no longer be referred to as "special needs" children, but as "special agents." Their mission? To give us unconditional love, to show us God's grace in all things, and to help make us better people. I think we are the ones with greater needs in this world. God bless all of you special agents out there, and thank you for all that you do for us!"

The Family Angel And The Best Sandwiches Ever

Mipps had a blue four door Buick Skylark he drove everywhere. Since he had it in high school and then college with me, I still think of him with his Skylark.

One summer, we drove to Madison to apply for summer jobs. I'm not sure anymore what the true motivation was to apply for jobs in Madison, but I'm sure it was related to females. We spent the entire day filling out applications everywhere, and then jumped in the Skylark to head back to Green Bay.

About 45 minutes outside of Madison, something bad happened to the car. Dash lights went on and it lost power. We rolled along the emergency lane. Neither of us had any money at all.

Somewhere in Sun Prairie, Mipps rolled the car into a mechanic's garage. He said something was wrong with the computer, and....(that's when both of our minds shut down. THERE WAS A COMPUTER IN THE SKYLARK? HOW DID WE NOT KNOW THIS? DID IT TALK?)...it was going to cost almost $1,000.00 to fix it.

And that's in 1988 money.

Now it's 9 pm and we are starving. We haven't eaten all day. We drove about 15 mph to the closest grocery store, and pooled our money: under five bucks. So we bought a package of pastrami and a loaf of white bread and jumped back in the car to head back to Madison. We weren't sure where we were going in Madison, but it was closest.

So there we were, driving down the highway at about 30 mph, eating our sandwiches in silence. "You know what, Mipps?," I said, "these are the best sandwiches I've ever eaten."

They were.

Now it's 20 years later and one of us has escaped from Skylarks and whitebread sandwiches. But Mipps didn't forget who rode shotgun. Thanks, Mipps, for the sandwich, the Skylark, and for 20 years, being the Batiansila family's angel.

Worlds Collide! Mipps and Charis

Mipps accidentally came across Charis in Target. While many at BNS thought that this might have caused a shear in the time-space continuum, it seemed like a typical normal "Hi...you're a friend of the family's" moment.

Then Mipps brought up the blog, which brought a blank stare from Charis.

More Press on Martina's Robots

Channel 2 - WBAY TV in Green Bay - where Greg interned back in the day* - is running a story on Martina's robots at 4, 5, and 10 tomorrow. I think. Stay tuned, and BNS will see if there's a link that we can find.

*Two interesting notes: 1. One guy who sat in the newsroom while Greg worked, sometimes working, but sometimes talking on the phone with his wife, was Kevin Rompa. Kevin would sometimes turn to Greg and say, "Greg, don't hate me because I'm beautiful." Kevin also advised Greg to not get into the news business, advice Greg took and went on to fame as a member of 98 Degrees. No, wait. After toiling for years at a bunch of jobs, Greg found people who will pay him to essentially do nothing more than walk into an office and do what he would have done for free. Please do not tell Greg's employers this. 2. Mipps is currently in week 4 of dating this Channel 2 luminary. This puts her in the lead. Much like Pat Robertson at CBN, BNS does not officially endorse candidates for Mipps, but as a private citizen, holds no opinions until we can verify the whole pig thing.

These Are My Friends (Text of a card I sent to my friend, Mark Natzke)

***Mipps knew that my car - the silver bullet - a 1994 Prizm with 255,000 miles on it - was dead. He knew that my family couldn't live with one car. He knew that we were in a bind. And he knew what it means to be a friend. He helped me get a car.


These Are My Friends

That's what my Dad said one summer as we pulled away from a house. We drove close to 1500 miles that summer, from New Orleans, up through New Hampshire and back down through Indiana. At each place, the door opened, the table was laid, beds were made, and laughter and true joy abounded.

So Dad pulled away from the Herrs house in Keene, New Hampshire and he stopped the car. Up to this point, this meant 1) He forgot or lost something (a genetic trait he lovingly passed on to me) 2)One of us was going to get the beat down (a genetic trait he lovingly passed on to me or 3) He was going to announce that he and mom were going to have another baby (Another...you get the picture).

But he went off the menu that time. He turned to us and said, "These are my friends. Now, show me yours."

Wow. That's setting the bar high. The Herrs had taken us to their private lake and we had climbed a mountain and picked berries. All 12 of us.

So, I can say with absolute pride that I have another trait my father passed on to me. A friend who loves like Jesus. Who has given beyond any comprehension. Who has been at my side through all of it.

And, so, last week as I explained some stuff to Kellen, you know what I said? I said: Imagine if you and Andrew (classmate) were still friends in 30 years. Could you be? What would it be like? This is my friend. Show me yours.

No word can say what you mean to me. Kids and wives and divorces and implosions aside. Nothing I, a professional writer can say.

But you're a part of the story now, a genetic trait I hope to pass on. Thank you, friend. Thank you.