Carey Casey wants to start a revolution. He travels around the country, rallying and recruiting men to join him and asking them to enlist for the cause. His goal: an army of 6.5 million.

Not to be confused with any militant operation, Casey's is more of an intimate and personal quest: changing the world one championship father at a time.

The face of the Houston Astros has changed.

Jeff Bagwell has been retired for nearly four years. Craig Biggio bid farewell to Minute Maid Park after the 2007 season. And last year, fan favorite Brad Ausmus packed up his catcher's gear and opted to close out his career with the Los Angeles Dodgers.

Houston is officially Lance Berkman's team. And he's OK with that.

Retracing the steps of Tre’ Kelley’s childhood is a sobering, sometimes harrowing, task.

To start, you must visit the areas of Washington, D.C., that aren’t in any travel brochures. You must go into the neighborhoods of the Northeast where vice is readily available — where the sounds of “Pop! Pop! Pop!” and the ensuing drone of police sirens, like banshees wailing in the night, are a familiar dirge. Only a short drive from the city’s majestic monuments and stately halls of legislature, it is worlds apart. No one goes sightseeing in this part of town.

In America, we believe that we can make everything better. In fact, we relentlessly pursue improvement. And this can often be a good thing! It can make us examine our hearts and actions and get right with God and others. It can bring new advances in medicine, travel, industry and the environment. It can even help us discover and understand God in new and deeper ways.

But many times our efforts to improve on God’s design give us a far inferior result.