With the Winter Olympics on center stage this week, there's a persistent memory that keeps flashing back in my brain. I'm not sure which looms larger to me - the Olympic memory or the lesson I learned from it.

It was February, and I was speaking at a conference in Holland. The Winter Olympics were going on in Europe that year, but they just weren't on my radar. Until the afternoon I had the TV on in my room while I was getting dressed for the next meeting. The commentary was all in Dutch - which was all Greek to me. Until the announcer spoke a name I knew.

They came from 80-plus nations, hoping for Olympic glory. The athletes of the Winter Olympics descended on Vancouver with lots of hype and lots of hope. Yes, there were clouds in the Vancouver sky, but that didn't dim their flame.

But then came the big cloud that has hung over the Olympics since before the opening ceremonies. The sudden and violent death of one of their fellow Olympians. If you've watched the Olympics much, you've seen repeated replays of the fatal, high-speed accident that ended the life of a young Georgian luge racer in a moment. Even the high-flying celebration and pageantry of the opening ceremonies came to a jarring halt when the stadium went quiet for a moment of silence in his honor. You could see the deep emotion on the faces of some of the world's best athletes as the glory was, in that moment, overtaken by grief.

It sure seems like the "Odd Couple" to me - bloodthirsty vampires and romance. But several of the blockbuster books and movies of this past year manage to put them together.

The vampires aren't the old Bela Lugosi movie type - some crazy old guy in fangs and a tux. They're hunky young guys who just happen to have some unique dietary needs. And in the story, there's a young girl who falls madly in love with vampire boy, to the point of being willing to exchange her soul for a love that will last forever.

The New Orleans Saints are Super Bowl Champs - and the toast of New Orleans. I remember when they were "toast" in New Orleans.

The Saints' fans suffered through some terrible losing seasons. It got so bad that fans came to games wearing paper bags over their heads and signs that said "Ain'ts." That's pretty bad. As a Giants fan who's been with them through some super bombs and Super Bowls, I'm happy for the New Orleans fans who stuck with them through thick and thin.

How funny! A recent survey just revealed that more people watch the Super Bowl for the commercials than the game. Come to think of it, I've seen some fairly boring Super Bowl games, but the commercials were interesting.

They're saying that at least 150,000 Haitians died in that monster quake. Imagine - 150,000 people who were here one day and gone the next day. It's staggering! But something hit me when I heard that death toll. More than 150,000 people go into eternity every day on this planet - ready or not.

We'll take any hope we can get from Haiti. More came today.

When it seemed that no one else could still be alive in all those collapsed buildings, a boy thought he heard a voice from the rubble of a bank building. The husband of a woman who worked there had been frantically trying to find his wife. When the boy told that man about what he had heard, the husband went for a nearby rescue team from California.

CNN and other networks went to church yesterday. In Haiti, that is. Because the faith celebrated there Sunday has become part of the story of Haiti's darkest hour.

It's not a surprise to those of us who have been with these precious brothers and sisters. Some of them live every day with a tenacious faith that sustains them through their grinding poverty. And when they worship, it's not all buttoned down like so many American churches. It's exuberant!

It's hard to stop watching what's happening in Haiti. The days I've spent ministering among those precious people have bonded my heart to that place, and broken my heart for what I'm seeing. Time is running out in Haiti. There will be years to rebuild, but only hours to rescue. Who can wait for the professional rescuers or the right equipment?

The sadness in Haiti is overwhelming even seasoned reporters. One anchorman just said, "As the images continue to fill our screens here in the newsroom, I find myself starting to turn away. Because after a while, it's just more than..." and his voice drifted off.