Since Whitney Houston's sudden death Saturday night, the world's been fixated on replaying iconic - and now poignant - performances of her signature songs. What's stuck in my mind is video they've shown of one of her first performances and one of her last.

The early video shows her as a young girl, singing in her Newark, New Jersey church, belting out "just a little talk with Jesus makes it right." The other video was called "Whitney's last public performance." It appeared to be an impromptu duet. The song - "Yes, Jesus Loves Me." I thought, "Bookends of her life."

Clearly, Jesus was part of the life of this legendary performer whose singular way with a song brought people to call her simply "The Voice." But the effusive tributes and the flashbacks of Whitney's unforgettable musical mountaintops are punctuated with the disturbing images of her personal life spinning tragically out of control. Her "turbulent marriage," her battles with admitted drug addiction, the troubling pictures of a beautiful woman in disarray and decline.

I know you shouldn't yell. Especially on a Sunday. But I did. This past Sunday. During the Super Bowl.

But, hey, my New York Giants were playing for the championship. And they needed my help, my encouragement, my suggestions. How could they hear if I didn't yell? I know it's just earth stuff, but it sure was fun to watch them win. Especially since I have a special attachment to the Giants that goes back to our years in the New York area, when I used to speak for some of their pre-game chapels.

What most people don't know is that some of the Giants' dramatic late-season turnaround is traceable, in part, to a chapel they had last November. The speaker was challenging the attendees to be "all in" as husbands and fathers, as spiritual leaders and followers of Jesus. Then he gave them something I don't ever expect to get from my pastor - a poker chip.

So everybody wants to talk about the commercials. Great. I want to talk about the Giants.

Yes, my team won the Super Bowl! Who cares about the commercials? Answer: the news, the blogosphere, social networks, gazillions of people at the water cooler. Of course, at $3.5 million for each 30-second ad, advertisers are hoping we're talking about their commercial. And buying whatever they're selling.

I didn't see all the commercials, but one of them blew the others away. It wasn't funny or suggestive. It was just compelling. A still photo from it is, in fact, the first thing I saw on my USA Today.

Another sad story from the "entertainment capital of the world." There's a lot of it behind all the Hollywood hype.

The sadness behind the stardom hit me again when I read about what just happened to a woman who has been, at times, the highest paid actress in Hollywood. She's been married to two of Hollywood's biggest actors and a cover girl on national magazines.

Storms on the sun. Right off the bat, that sounds like the makings of a new disaster or sci-fi flick. But, in this case, the results are beautiful. As in an incredible polar light show in the sky last week - with scientists predicting a lot more.

There were pictures all over the news last week of these spectacular colors painting a breathtaking scene in the night sky. It was the "northern lights" - also known as the aurora borealis. It's worth checking out on the Internet. I guess the approach of solar flares from the sun's recent turbulence just added a whole new richness to these lights that have amazed people for centuries.

Wow. For once, the United States Congress was totally united. No partisan torpedoes. No verbal dueling. Even tears of compassion from some usually tough opponents.

Gabby did it. It was just a year ago that Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords was gunned down at a Tucson, Arizona mall. The head wound she received threatened to end her life or, at best, leave her severely handicapped. Yesterday, she made her way to the floor of the House of Representatives to announce her resignation - for now - so she could concentrate on her continuing recovery. She really is a profile in courage.

"So you planning to go on a cruise sometime soon?" The guy checking me out at the drugstore pointed to the newspaper I was buying and asked me that with a wry smile. On the front page was the haunting picture of that capsized Italian cruise ship, overturned after going aground.

Here's a ship, larger than Titanic, eerily leaning into the sea. As of right now, 11 passengers are confirmed dead and more than 20 are still missing. Thousands of passengers are telling their stories of panic, mayhem and harrowing, uncoordinated escapes.

I like Tim Tebow. So this weekend's Broncos/Patriots playoff game hurt to watch.

No last-quarter or last-minute miracles. Tebow's team lost and lost bad. With a final score of 45-10, they weren't just beaten. They were crushed.

So much for anybody who thought Jesus is a ticket to the Super Bowl - or even a league championship. Because without preaching - just by living it - Tim's got us thinking of Jesus when we think of him. The media's all over the Tim Tebow story. Tim Tebow seems to want to redirect the attention. To Jesus.

Two stories in the news stuck out to me. The first troubling story said that Twinkies may be going bankrupt. How can that be? Talk about too big to fail! But, alas, there's word that the company that makes Twinkies may be filing for Chapter 11. Perhaps, if I eat enough of them in the next couple of weeks, I can make a difference.

I really like football. I just don't have much time to watch it. But this past weekend, I watched a whole game! And it wasn't even my team!

I watched the Denver Broncos win an astonishing victory over the heavily favored Pittsburgh Steelers in a wild-card playoff game. But I was watching more than a football game. I was watching Tim Tebow - and the drama that unfolds every time he takes the field these days. Yesterday was no exception.