timbslim

I have always had a big mouth. I have talked for a long time. I just called my mom to verify this next statement. I said “da da” at four months old. I started jabbering at four months old. It have been seeking an audience ever since. I’ll talk to a wall. I have talked to people who called the wrong number. In the third grade, Mrs. McBee nicknamed me hot lips. I was always talking for other people. All of my teachers agreed on one thing, that I should simply shut up. I won’t keep you in suspense; I didn’t. I kept right on taking all the way to the twelfth grade. I didn’t even let college stop me. My dad used to tell me, “Son, don’t let your mouth overload your butt,” or “Don’t write a check with your mouth that your butt can’t cash.” To put it more simply, “Don’t say more than you can do.” I have often found myself in situations where I have done just that. I do it pretty regularly. I run my mouth too much. I have found that this principle of not saying more than you...

The ball is hit. J.T. takes off from first rounds second and doesn’t tag the base. He is almost to third when the third base coach yells and motions for him to go back, he can’t go to third without tagging second. J.T. turns around, heads back to second, and stops there. No foul. It was a madhouse. People were screaming. Parents were going nuts. Everything rode on this unexpected and explosive play. It was a T-ball game. I was in Martin. Martin is a community just outside of the Jasper area down around Parish, Alabama. Martin is an interesting place. The folks there don’t get out much. I won’t say too much more for fear of my life. They are good people, but…never mind. Cindy Robinson had asked me to go to J.T.’s game with her. My friend, her husband, Frankie was going to be out of town. She didn’t want to go by herself. I totally understood. I agreed to go, big mistake. T-ball is great. The kids have a great time. It’s the freakin parents that screw it all up. The...

Mike and I got off the plane in Las Vegas, Nevada. We were on a three-day trip. That’s right; a three-day trip. It was 1994, I believe. It was the early years of my many travels. I had only been a few places. Mike’s wife Jan booked our flight and hotel accommodations. I had bought an Isuzu Trooper earlier that year. Isuzu sent me two tickets to the Celebrity Golf Association Tournament in Tahoe, Nevada. I asked Mike to go with me. Jan made all our reservations. Due to my lack of westward travels, I didn’t realize that Las Vegas was a long way from Tahoe. Jan missed it too. We realized about two months from the trip that we would never be able to make the tournament because it was too far away. So, Jan booked us a flight from Vegas to Tahoe on the day after we arrived in Vegas. The trip was crazy. Remember that what you are about to read we did in three days. Day 1: Mike and I left Birmingham one morning and arrived in Vegas that afternoon. We rented a car and headed t...

Brad and I pulled in. There were small planes buzzing all around. We were at the Moontown Airport just north of my house. It was a constant flurry of activity for such a small airport, unlike the everyday business I’m sure. But today was a big day. Grown men could be little boys today, little boy with great skill and complicated toys. Just watching them rip up and down that grass runway was exhilarating. Planes were above rolling, diving, looping. It was an exciting environment. Brad parked us. We got out and met up with his family. They are great people. Eleanor, Allan’s wife, is a sweetheart. She may be one of the nicest and sweetest people in the world. I love kidding around with her. Scott and Rusty were there. Scott is a big kid, a 6’6” kid. Rusty was preparing his girlfriend to fly with Allan when Brad when I approached the plane. Scott’s wife Kelly, her brother, and his kids were all there. Kelly wasn’t going to ride. She had been up before. She also threw up....

I hadn’t slept the night before my flight. Frankie had been to see me. Frankie was the kind of guy that never said much. But when he did, it really meant something. His wife on the other hand, said stuff all the time. It usually had the opposite effect. (I love you Cindy. You know that’s a joke. I had to squeeze that in). Anyway, Frankie called me around 10:30pm the night before I was supposed to fly out at 6:30pm from Huntsville. I lived in Curry at the time. He said, “I want to talk to you about this mission project.” I said, “O.K.” Frankie got to my house around 11:00pm. We talked for about four or five hours. We were making some final decision about the mission project. We decided that our group wasn’t ready for it. So, I decided that I would table the trip that was only a few months away. We asked the Lord to either prepare the hearts of our students or tell us not to go. To keep it short, we ended up going. Instead of trying to sleep, I finished packing and hea...

Just an update before I blog a bit: I got to watch Sutton score the only goal for his team in his game the other day (actually Wednesday night). He called me that day and said that he was playing against a men’s team. I thought he was exaggerating. He wasn’t. They were men. I am now in Pompano Beach, Florida. I came down to see Brad and Mandy Jones. On my way back I will stop in Merritt Island, Florida to bring Jake Pohly back to Huntsvegas. I’ll enjoy the beach for all of you. Last night I remembered a story that I need to tell you. It was a cold winter morning in Hueytown, Alabama. My dad was a pastor there. We lived across the street from the church, Union Hill Baptist. My dad had gotten a phone call from one of the youth. She and a friend needed to get into the church. My dad left to go unlock the door for them. If you don’t know, my dad is a big guy. Back then, he was probably 6’4” and weighed 225 lbs. He was an exceptional athlete in high school and college. He wa...

I remember years ago discovering the Philipians 3:10. “That I may know Him and the power of His resurrection and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death.” It sounded so cool the first time I read it. But, there was this nagging something in my gut when I read the last two dependent clauses; “and the fellowship of His sufferings,” and “being conformed to His death.” I have to admit that I didn’t fully understand that at the time. I believe that in that moment, God spoke to my heart a profound truth that I would only understand later, after many years of living. Right then, I knew that I would one day know exactly what it meant. You see, knowing him in the “Power of His resurrection,” would be awesome. It is awesome. I know that power. I have lived it via Christ’s death, burial, resurrection, and gift of Holy Spirit. But, there is no fullness in sharing only in a partial life in Christ. There is only fullness in knowing all of Christ. Jesus’ life was ce...

There aren’t a lot of people that can say they have been electrocuted and lived to tell about it. I am one of those people. Now, I don’t want to set myself up as a miracle case. I have a great friend, Bob, who was electrocuted bad. He lost his right arm, two fingers on his left arm, his left knee was blown out, and much more. He really almost died. It was bad. But, I was slightly electrocuted once. When I was a teenager, my dad was the pastor of the Blooming Grove Baptist Church in Curry, Alabama. Curry is a small place. It isn’t even an incorporated town. It is more like a community. Great place to grow up, right on the lake. Oh, I miss the lake. Anyway, my electrocution is the topic, not my growing up years. In the early years of my youth, we lived behind the church. I hated that; that is another story too. One night I was up real late. That is a real shocker, huh? I looked out the window of my bedroom and saw something that I had been noticing for a while, but never...

I was in Duseldorf, Germany in 1991. I was staying with my friend Stefan and his mom. Stefan was an exchange student at my high school the year before. He and I had become friends. He had invited me to come and see him. I thought, “Why not?” When I first got there, we went skiing in Switzerland. It was great. I wrote about this trip earlier. I recently remembered a part of the trip that I have not shared in my blogs. After skiing in Switzerland, we returned to Stefan’s home in Duseldorf. We did some touring around of cities nearby. I loved it. I even went to one of Stefan’s English classes with him. He started back to school while I was there. I was nervous. They asked me a lot of questions. I guess they thought that I knew everything about the English Language since I spoke it. I rose to the challenge. I impressed them. I probably bs’d my way though it. I am good at that. That is not what I wanted to share with you. There was an event that I’ll never forget. I w...