Howdy. I'm Matt Todd. My wife and I have four kids and a dog,. I'm passionate about orphan care. I'm a die-hard fan of the Evansville Aces, the Indiana Hoosiers, and Star Wars. I'm trying to live life by the Todd family motto: "It behooves us to live!"

Will the real Matt Good please stand up?

Matt Good
Originally uploaded by mattdantodd.

I saw an exact replica of my college roommate tonight. I’m not kidding. Christy and I were driving into the Target parking lot (Happy Sales-Tax Holiday, everyone!) when we saw a guy in the parking lot and were absolutely convinced he was my old college roommate.

Matt (yes both of us are named Matt. We were “Big Matt” and “Little Matt”…creative, huh?) Good was my roommate at Milligan all three years we lived in the dorms. We shared an apartment our Senior year. We were very good friends, although we ran around in some different circles. He was even in our wedding.

I have not heard from him since 2003. Actually, that was when I called him to tell him about Greg’ passing. He dropped a bomb on me by telling me he was getting married soon and he promised to invite me to his wedding. I confirmed his email address and he promised he’d write me back.

He did.


Haven’t heard from him since. None of our common Milligan friends have.

So you can imagine our surprise when he showed up in the Target parking lot in Johnson City, Tennessee (last I heard, he was in Indianapolis)! The guy looked at me like he recognized me and kept on walking. I knew it was him, so we began to stalk him in my car. Finally, I figured out where he was going and cut him off at the pass.

I got out of the car and he looked at me. He kept on walking. I said, “Do I know you?”

“No,” he replied. With that, I realized that it, indeed, was not Matt Good. The guy had a much deeper voice than Matt’s. His teeth had a bigger gap than Matt’s ever had (he had braces while we were in school). Not only did I feel like a big ol’ idiot, but I was also quite shocked and dismayed that this Matt-lookin’ guy wasnot the Matt Good!

This guy was an absolute clone of Matt Good. I promise! He dressed like him, had similar facial hair, walked like him and even made similar facial gestures.

There can be only one Matt Good. This other guy must have just been a faker or something.

The picture included is circa 1995. Matt’s the one on the right. Yes, his hair is longer than Natalie’s, the girl on the left. He was quite smitten with her. She didn’t really return the same level affection.

If you have seen this man or know of his whereabouts, please have him contact me immediately!

Chapel part II

There are very few songs that make me cry. In fact, I think there are only two. I don’t always cry when I’m singing them, but it is not unheard of for a tear or two to fall during these songs:

Blessed be Your Name
This song carried a lot of meaning before this Summer. It always used to make me think of my friend Greg, who died suddenly last year.

Then, we sang it at Jaron’s dedication and funeral services. Now, I can’t sing the song during a worship service without weeping. It’s not that I don’t believe the words – I do with all my heart. There’s just so much more power to those words now.

Give Thanks
I had forgotten about this song until we sang it in Chapel today. It’s old-school contemporary, if that makes any sense. I remember singing the song in church (back when it was Cullen Avenue – not Crossroads, like it is today) a lot right after my Grandpa died (over 15 years ago!) of a massive heart attack. Needless to say, it was unexpected. I remember thinking, How can I give thanks when something so terrible has happened to me? Can I honestly say that I am rich and strong because of what the Lord has done for me? I don’t think so. Of course, I know now that I can sing those words with conviction, but that’s what I remember thinking at the time.

I don’t know how long it has been since I sang this song as part of a worship service, but I do know it has been a long, long time. As we sang it this morning, all of those emotions and questions and struggles I was wrestling with after my Grandpa died flooded my memory and I wept. I almost had to leave the room because I was concerned about making a scene.

It is amazing to look back and see how far my faith has come. At the same time, I wind up asking the same questions from different perspectives. Have I really grown that much, yet learned so little? I think that is part of the journey of humanity.