The Flog – The Fabry Log

As a writer, you set goals for your work. Each day I try to write a certain amount of words or a certain amount of pages. I know, because the delivery date of the manuscript is set, that if I put off until tomorrow the writing of those pages and words, it only increases the number down the road. So I stick with it, put my rear in the chair, and put my fingers on the keyboard.

I was recently on Nancy Turner's program on WMBI in Chicago. She asked, "How do you find time to write when you have 9 children and do a radio program each day?"

I'm a big believer that whatever you think is important, you'll do. If your marriage is important, you'll make time to deepen that relationship. If your children are important to you, they'll know it by the time you spend with them. And if writing is something important to you, you'll find time in the schedule to do it. Turn off the TV, turn off the distractions, and do what God called you to do. And, by the way, I probably wouldn't do the writing thing if it weren't a deep-seated calling I feel.

With that said, I reached a goal I had never considered reachable before. Last night I helped my 2nd daughter, Megan, move an entertainment center into her apartment. My son, Reagan, went with us. What were we thinking naming them Megan and Reagan? Anytime we called them the other would yell, "What?" Anyway, after we moved the behemoth in, Reagan and I went to the local grocery store. It's called King Soopers-just the Colorado version of Kroger. Reagan found his Nerd's ropes and I went looking for a sandwich or salad.

As we passed the end cap of books, all the bestsellers from top writers, my eye stopped at the bottom of the rack. There was a familiar crimson and gray cover with Jim Tressel's face on the front. I helped him write The Winners Manual in March and April of this year, and here's that book in my local grocery store.



I had always hoped I could buy a book by Chris Fabry where I buy my beans and turnips, but I don't think it seemed believable to me. I pointed at it and said, "Hey Reagan, look!"

He smiled big and put up his hand. I gave him a high five. The lady behind us had a bag full of cheese in her cart. She was older. She had no idea what was going on. She smiled anyway. I wanted to say, "This is a good book to read while you eat that cheese." I didn't.

I guess I have another goal now. Wouldn't it be great if a person could buy a book of fiction I've written at the grocery store? Then I could say I've bought both dog food and Dogwood.

I'm coming to the great state of Alabama on October 7th. The Chris Fabry Live! show will originate from there and I'll be signing books and meeting listeners at 7 PM at the Booksamillion store at 1624 Gadsden Highway, Birminham, AL.

Booksamillion asked me to come to a manager's meeting and I'm excited about the opportunity. If you're in the area, I would love to see you and match a listener with a face. I hope to see you then.

We took a 3 mile hike on Saturday to combat diabetes. The "Walk for the Cure" became more like a crawl because there were so many people. What a great problem to have. In the picture above you'll see our family, along with some good friends who were there for the walk and the chicken afterward. See the home-made "Colin's Cure Crew" T-shirts. Colin is behind Brandon in the front. I am wearing my San Diego Padre hat.

In the picture below, Colin sits in front of Andrea, showing the correct way to give himself a shot.

If you're looking for the perfect book for a book club/reading group, I think Dogwood is a great choice. I was talking with a friend today who said her plan is to get the group to read it next month and then have me speak to the group members.

Great idea. And if you have a book group you'd like me to speak with (via phone), I'd be glad to set that up on a first come, first serve basis. Get a copy of Dogwood and see what you think. You can email me at chrisfabry@comcast.net.

Order Dogwood through Amazon by clicking the link below.

Seven years ago our lives, our worldview changed. Our view of the enemy. Our view of our country. Our view of ourselves. It all changed on that bright, September morning.

Did it change us enough? Today we’re going to hear from you about that.

Most of society just wants to be entertained. From sports contests to the latest scandal, we rush to see the latest pop culture news. We turn away from problems, the deep issues that enslave us, and turn to something easier to deal with.

On that day 7 years ago, only a few people rushed toward the problem. Most of us ran from it and watched from afar. Most of us covered our mouths, pictured ourselves in those towers or on that plane heading for the Pentagon, or the aircraft that was turning and heading for Washington. The one that crashed in Pennsylvania. The people in those planes and in those buildings who lost their lives, who were thrust into eternity in those horrifying moments of explosion and fire, or collapse of the world around them, those people had their lives unalterably changed forever.

They were killed. We have been inconvenienced. We now call $4 a gallon gasoline a crisis. And certainly, I don’t like to pay $4 for a gallon of gas anymore than you do. It hurts the economy. It hurts my pocketbook. But compare and contrast that day 7 years ago with what we’re going through.

So tell me today, what changes you have seen in your life? Did September 11 change the way you look at elections? It has for me. I’ve always believed we needed a strong military presence to be able to fight the forces of tyranny. But I also believe we need a strong, moral center to our nation, and it is that moral center which informs all of our activities. Our military, our judges, our representatives, our corporate heads, our teachers, our servants. Without that moral center, we simply become a nation of opinion polls. Our objective standards dwindle, and we wind up watching TV and shaking our heads about what we’re up against.

As some have said, if you don’t stand for something you’ll fall for anything.

And fall we did on 9-11. We were paralyzed by the shock of what we were seeing. People jumping to their deaths. Buildings that were supposed to be indestructible collapsing on top of themselves. People running in terror, while our enemies danced and celebrated.

But we did not stay down long. From every corner of this country, men and women banded together. And that is the American spirit. That is something that could not be changed by 19 deranged fanatics who believed their deaths would serve a heavenly cause. People saw the need and they volunteered—without leaders in government telling us we should. They served. They fed the hungry. They grieved with family members. They worked clearing debris, at great cost to their own health, because there was a chance that another person was still alive under all that concrete and metal.

We learned about heroes that day. Men and women who ran headlong into buildings or cockpits or burning rubble in order to save people they did not even know. We learned that we have real enemies. We learned that people of different political stripes could come together. At least for a week or two.

We also learned we were vulnerable. That a great nation, a melting pot of so many people of different backgrounds and races and religions and from every part of the planet, we learned we were vulnerable to a relatively small group of people bent on our destruction.

And perhaps this is my greatest concern. That we have been lulled into complacency again. That the roots of change in our collective lives have not grown sufficiently deep enough. I hope you can allay those concerns today.

I had lived in Colorado for only a year in 2001. I had become a Denver Broncos fan. And on September 10th, Ed McCaffrey, a wide receiver for the Broncos was tackled in a Monday Night game and sickeningly his leg was broken and he was carted off the field. It ended his season. And I woke up that next morning thinking about Ed McCaffrey and what a terrible thing had happened to him. And how awful for the Broncos that this player wouldn’t be able to play.

The events of that day changed that perspective. It caused me to see how close to eternity you and I are every day. And I live with a sense of awe that we do have people who will run to the problem instead of away. We do have people who are willing to serve and protect us, even to the potential loss of their lives. Do we deserve such people? I don’t know that you can ever deserve that kind of courage and bravery and heroism. The kind that was evidenced on 9-11. I don’t know that we deserve the kind of servants we have in our military who right now are in harm’s way in Iraq and Afghanistan. I don’t know if we deserve the heroes from World War II who ran up Omaha beach. Does anyone deserve that? Does anyone have a RIGHT to ask of another, put your life in front of me to keep me from danger. Give your life in my place.

It is not a right. It is a privilege we have to live in this country.

And here is what I am most encouraged about in this remembrance. That privilege is a metaphor of actions by God Himself, when he, with perfect knowledge of what was to come, stepped out of heaven and took our place and gave his life that we might be free. That we might be forgiven. That we might become citizens of heaven. For it was into this terror filled world of sin and darkness, that Jesus came and gave himself. He did not HAVE to do it. But in his love and mercy, he was constrained by his own promise, his own plan, to not only step into our world, but to change it one heart, one soul at a time.

I feel, at times, the same complacency when I look at that rescue mission. That I take this for granted. That I am not doing as much as I could. And days like this that commemorate both death and destruction, as well as life and courage, remind me that we have a much bigger task than an election or a Supreme Court Justice or a righteous cause to pursue, as important as those are. The greatest task given to us as His followers, is to run toward the problems of this world, to run toward the people who do not know they can be free, who have not yet embraced this savior, who need to know there can truly be change that will last forever.

My brother and sister in law sent me the following and I thought you might enjoy them. You may have seen these before. The first is a brain test. I'm not sure it works here as well as on the email, but try it.

ALZHEIMERS' EYE TEST
Count every ' F ' in the following text:

FINISHED FILES ARE THE
RESULT OF YEARS OF SCIENTIFIC
STUDY COMBINED WITH THE
EXPERIENCE OF YEARS...




How many 'Fs' did you count?

If you said 3, you're normal. Most people say 3.
There are actually 6. Read the above again.

Here's the reasoning. The brain cannot process 'OF.'

Now, a few pretty good puns.

1. The roundest knight at King Arthur's round table was Sir Cumference. He acquired his size from too much pi.

2. I thought I saw an eye doctor on an Alaskan island, but it turned out to be an optical Aleutian.

3. A rubber band pistol was confiscated from algebra class because it was a weapon of math disruption.

4. No matter how much you push the envelope, it'll still be stationery.

5. A dog gave birth to puppies near the road and was cited for littering.

6. A grenade thrown into a kitchen in France would result in Linoleum Blownapart.

7. Two silk worms had a race. They ended up in a tie.

8. Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.

9. Atheism is a non-prophet organization.

10. Two hats were hanging on a hat rack in the hallway. One hat said to the other, 'You stay here, I'll go on a-head.'

11. A small boy swallowed some coins and was taken to a hospital. When his grandmother telephoned to ask how he was, a nurse said, 'No change yet.'

12. A chicken crossing the road is poultry in motion.

13. The short fortune-teller who escaped from prison was a small medium, at large.

14. A backward poet writes in-verse.

15. In democracy it's your vote that counts. In feudalism it's your count that votes.

This is the view from the trail we took Sunday afternoon. We liked it so much we went back Labor Day and encountered more people, some bikes, a dad speaking Deutsch to his child, and people on horseback. Of course, the kids had to pet the horses. That's Pikes Peak in the background and a train snaking through the valley below. Just a gorgeous scene, don't you think?
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