Good bye's

In my work we talk a lot about how to say good-bye. A lot of really hard but really good things can come out of families intentionally using the time they have with loved ones preparing for their death. I've heard many a time from family members that there are times when they feel that "this visit" was the last time they would see their mother, father, or whatever family member again. Even though they weren't necessarily going to die that night or within the next few days due to geographical distance or some other reason there would probably not be another time to see them.

If you were in the same position, have you thought of what your last words would be? How about if you were the one leaving and you were the one that would "they" wouldn't see again? What would you want them to know?

All these questions were brought up as I did my weekly bible study fellowship questions. A part of our study covered Acts 20: 22 - 38.

²² “And now, compelled by the Spirit, I am going to Jerusalem, not knowing what will happen to me there. ²³ I only know that in every city the Holy Spirit warns me that prison and hardships are facing me. ²⁴ However, I consider my life worth nothing to me; my only aim is to finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the good news of God’s grace.

²⁵ “Now I know that none of you among whom I have gone about preaching the kingdom will ever see me again. ²⁶ Therefore, I declare to you today that I am innocent of the blood of any of you. ²⁷ For I have not hesitated to proclaim to you the whole will of God. ²⁸ Keep watch over yourselves and all the flock of which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers. Be shepherds of the church of God,^[a] which he bought with his own blood.^{[b] 29} I know that after I leave, savage wolves will come in among you and will not spare the flock. ³⁰ Even from your own number men will arise and distort the truth in order to draw away disciples after them. ³¹ So be on your guard! Remember that for three years I never stopped warning each of you night and day with tears.

³² “Now I commit you to God and to the word of his grace, which can build you up and give you an inheritance among all those who are sanctified. ³³ I have not coveted anyone’s silver or gold or clothing. ³⁴ You yourselves know that these hands of mine have supplied my own needs and the needs of my companions. ³⁵ In everything I did, I showed you that by this kind of hard work we must help the weak, remembering the words the Lord Jesus himself said: ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’ ”

³⁶ When Paul had finished speaking, he knelt down with all of them and prayed. ³⁷ They all wept as they embraced him and kissed him. ³⁸ What grieved them most was his statement that they would never see his face again. Then they accompanied him to the ship.

Some things stand out to me as I read about Paul's good-bye.

1. He tells them why he is leaving - basically he is getting his instructions from God.
2. His future is unknown to him - the only thing he does know that it's not going to be easy.
3. Despite knowing the difficulty ahead of him he considers his own life less than what God has for him.
4. He leaves with a clear conscience regarding his relationship to those he is leaving - he has to his best ability imparted the truth about the gospel to them.
5. He warns and encourages those he is leaving that things will not be easy for them either and tries to prepare them for things they might experience.
6. He commits them to God and encourages them that he himself is dependent on God for all of his provision and they should be too.
7. He kneels with them, prays with them, and weeps with them - showing that he is connected to them and loves them but his love for them is only possible because of his primary love for the Lord.

Just in case you don't understand the depth of relationship here and the difficulty of his departure read the first verse in chapter 21: After we had torn ourselves away from them, we put out to sea and sailed straight to Cos.

I remember that every time we would leave my grandparents house when I was little they would cry. We didn't live close so we didn't have the opportunity to see time very often. I always wondered why they cried. Saying good-bye to people that mean that much to you - even if it is likely that you will see them again is hard. But that is the great mystery here - we don't ever really know if we will see the person(s) we leave again. Stuff happens. So I guess the moral of the story is be intentional with every moment so that when it does come time to say good-bye, if you are given that chance, the love you express will be the capstone to a lifetime of that very expression rather than a last ditch effort to say and do what should have been said and done all along.

G'nite

It's late. I'm tired. And I have the workout that puts the "x" in P90X tomorrow morning at 5am. So I am simply posting a good night wish.

May your dreams be sweet
and warm covers on your feet

A blissful rest be yours
No tossing, turning, or snores

Waking up refreshed and happy
May your tomorrow be good and not crappy.

I was a math major so get off me.

Hot Topic

I ran across this article on CNN.com about hospice chaplaincy. Being a hospice chaplain myself, I have had some of the same experiences as the lady who wrote the article. I would say we differ on some aspects of how we approach our job, but overall I thought her articulation of what we experience was well done. It is so hard to explain the experiences I get to be a part of when you can't really understand unless you have experienced it yourself.

I found that the comments by people regarding the article were much more entertaining and enlightening than the article itself. Comments ranging from critiquing her use of grammar to evangelicals bashing her for not "saving" her patients to atheists questioning why anyone would let her in the room in the first place. Perhaps anyone who reads those comments might gain a little more perspective of what it is like as a chaplain trying to come alongside those who are dying and their families. Keep in mind however, that hospice is only one context of chaplaincy. Our agency serves people in the hospital, the cancer center, the jail, the juvenile justice system, and emergency services in addition to hospice. All in the name of trying to care for people who are hurting. All with the possibility of facing comments like those posted in the comments section of the article. It's never the same day twice!

Read the article here.

Here is just a sample of some of the comments - some I find funny, some make me shake my head in disbelief, and some I just don't know what to think. Remember, it is just a sample of the comments - others were very nice and thoughtful. Read them for yourself at the bottom of the article. There is something like 35 pages of them.

Brent Slensker

Religion befuddles EVERYTHING! And as EVERYONE knows....It should NOT rear its head Online

caw

I'm still waiting for the single verifiable and recorded miracle to occur (and not just a statistical anomaly). Come on God, split that Red sea again and the whole world will be converted. If you're real, then why did you give us brains that question and then fail to answer the questions?

Drew

People like you really have to get your head out of the bible; spirituality is about your own PERSONAL relationship with god, not the dogma in some stupid old book

George

I find it odd that no one is mentioning the elephant in the room. This article was written by a woman. Women should not be chaplins or pastors. Only liberal churches do that.

Luke Emery

So basically we have religious people coming in homes of people who are dying to exploit them for their sort of pseudo-pity, self-righteous gain.

Maybe we should also have a "Reason Police" that walks into peoples homes and say "Hey guys, your god is fake!" as they are dying.

howash!

Divinity studies is like going to study at Harward to become a "sanitation engineer". Ridiculous!

howash!

I think no one needs a religious buffoon around at this private time of their death!

Chris

So, you do not talk to them about God, or try to pray with them....so what good was your divinity studies; oh you learned about love. I would ask for my tuition back. A 3yr old knows more about love and dependance, and that is how God wants us to come to Him...as little children.

All In

"There are some things in life, and they may be the most important things, that we cannot know by research or reflection, but only by committing ourselves. We must dare in order to know. Life is full of situations to which I can respond not with part of myself but only with commitment of my whole being." J.H. Oldham

When I coached baseball we had a saying: Desire, Discipline, Execution. Three parts to what was supposed to lead to success. The first thing was to want to succeed - to have the desire for an intended outcome. Next came discipline. Discipline to put in the work to practice the fundamentals, increase your skills, and be disciplined to practice even while unsupervised. And lastly, when game time came, to bring the desire and discipline together along with execution to achieve the desired results. Basically, these themes built on each other. Two of the three were in their control. You can pretty much know how bad you want something and you can, if you're honest with yourself, evaluate your level of discipline and know whether you put in quality work. However, executing when the rubber meets the road at game time is the tough part. Sometimes it happens just how you imagined and sometimes it doesn't.

By the way, I don't think that these three principles were only applicable on the baseball field. They apply to school, work, family, faith.....
Obviously, if it were this easy we would have won state each year and life would lived successfully, happily ever after and I would have a NY Times Best Seller. It didn't work out that way -

I guess the only disclaimer I would make about this philosophy - make sure at stage one, the desire stage - is that your goal is a worthy one.

And it never hurts to ask for a little help. Asking for wisdom in choosing what to desire; asking for the will to be disciplined even when you don't feel like it; and asking for the ability to put your faith into action - all for the purpose of loving with your heart, soul, mind, and strength.

I am convinced that God loves baseball. And the Yankees.

Family Movie Night

Have you ever been to one of these? WOW. Family movie night at my daughter's school brought out the hoards. It was kind of organized chaos - popcorn everywhere, wriggly bodies, and the smell of feet. Nice.

The movie was Kung Fu Panda II. I saw about 1/2 of the movie and heard about 1/4 of the sound. This is my second experience.....it seems to be growing in popularity.

I used to sometimes think things like "I can't wait for this to be over." Honestly now, I don't think that way anymore. In the kind of work I do I am always reminded that time is precious and I choose not to wish my life away. And, I love my daughter.

It must be family movie night because we get home from my daughter's official movie night to find my son watching Kindergarten Cop. Classic. My favorite line - "Boys have a penis. Girls have a vagina." Somehow it's funnier when a 5-year-old says it.

It's all pointless babble. I know. Maybe tomorrow I'll have something "deep" to write.

Good perspective

I ran across this video of Ray Lewis talking to his team after their loss last week. What great perspective on losing and what is really important. I thought it was worth passing on. Do you think he does any sit-ups?


http://www.nfl.com/videos/nfl-locker-room-mvps/09000d5d8264b360/Ray-Lewis-postgame-speech

The tragic, laughable, beyond amazing Truth

"What is truth?" Pilate asked.

I posted a little while ago about this book, "Telling The Truth" by Frederick Buechner. We had to read this book as part of a theology and film class I took in seminary. It basically encourages preachers to present the whole truth of the gospel in its tragedy, comedy, and fairytale wholeness. Buechner summarizes better than I ever could so here's what he says:

"It is possible to think of the Gospel and our preaching of it as, above all and at no matter what risk, a speaking of the truth about the way things are. And it is possible to think of that truth as tragedy, as comedy, and as fairy tale.

"The gospel is bad news before it is good news. It is the news that man is a sinner, to use the old word, that he is evil in the imagination of his heart, that when he looks in the mirror all in a lather of what he sees is at least eight parts chicken, phony, slob. That is the tragedy. But it also gives news that he is loved anyway, cherished, forgiven, bleeding to be sure, but also bled for. That is the comedy. And yet, so what? So what if even in his sin the slob is loved and forgiven when the very mark and substance of his sin and of his slobbery is that he keeps turning down the love and forgiveness because he either doesn't believe them or doesn't want them or just doesn't give a damn? In answer, the news of the Gospel is that extraordinary things happen to him just as in fairy tales extraordinary things happen. Henry Ward Beecher cheats on his wife, his God, himself, but manages to keep on bringing the Gospel to life for people anyway, maybe even for himself. Lear goes berserk on a heath but comes out of it for a few brief hours every inch a king. Zaccheus climbs up a sycamore tree a crook and climbs down a saint. Paul sets out a hatchet man for the Pharisees and comes back a fool for Christ. It is impossible for anybody to leave behind the darkness of the world he carries on his back like a snail, but for God all things are possible. That is the fairy tale. All together they are the truth."

I guess this resonates with me because I have experienced truth in these three ways. I have felt the sting of sin and looked in that mirror only to see that chicken, that phony, and that slob. I have laughed those tears of joy in recognition that beyond that reflection in the back corner of the room there is my Lord and Savior who waits to catch me every time I fall - to lift my chin, restore me, and utter..."do better now my child." I've shaken my head in disbelief and awe at how beautiful things are produced with bent, battered, and broken tools such as myself that God chooses to use - how He uses all things toward His purposes.

"What is truth?" Pilate asked. With this he went out....

A Beautiful Love

Dr. Ira Byock has written a book that we use a lot at work. In his end of life work he has seen what becomes most important to people at the end of life. Basically his thesis states that there are four things that matter most to people hence the title of one of his books, "The Four Things That Matter Most." These four things are to say and hear "I love you" with those who are most important in your life; to say and hear "thank you" with those who are most important in your life; to offer forgiveness; and to receive forgiveness.

All too often we work with families that wait until their loved one is in a terminal state or at least with a terminal diagnosis to express these things - if they do at all. It is almost the mentality of cramming for a test on the night before rather than studying all semester and learning the material as you go.

However, there are times in our work that we see families that have been intentional about showing and expressing these 4 things throughout the life of the patient. And you know what - I can tell you it makes a difference in the way those patients are able to die.

This came out loud and clear today as I sat with the daughter of a patient who told her mother, "I am so glad that you spent your whole life hearing and knowing how much you are loved by your family." Her mom just laid in bed with a huge smile on her face.

Beloved, let us love one another. For love is of God and everyone that loves is born of God and knows God...

Give thanks in all circumstances...

Forgive as you have been forgiven....

I love my job. For the people I work with, the people I get to meet, and the incredible things I get to witness. I love my job.

I got a feva...

Sick by Shel Silverstein

'I cannot go to school today, '
Said little Peggy Ann McKay.
'I have the measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet, my throat is dry,
I'm going blind in my right eye.
My tonsils are as big as rocks,
I've counted sixteen chicken pox
And there's one more-that's seventeen,
And don't you think my face looks green?
My leg is cut-my eyes are blue-
It might be instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my left leg is broke-
My hip hurts when I move my chin,
My belly button's caving in,
My back is wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains each time it rains.
My nose is cold, my toes are numb.
I have a sliver in my thumb.
My neck is stiff, my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper when I speak.
My tongue is filling up my mouth,
I think my hair is falling out.
My elbow's bent, my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is one-o-eight.
My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole inside my ear.
I have a hangnail, and my heart is-what?
What's that? What's that you say?
You say today is...Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going out to play! '

Down but not out...

Surely goodness and loving kindness....

I meet a lot of people who say they are worried about the "state" of the world. That there just isn't any good left and that humanity is declining in its morality and goodness. Sadly, it is from people of faith that I tend to hear this the most.

In the kind of work I do I get to be around people that truly represent the good. I have the privilege of working beside people who show genuine care and compassion to those who are dying and to their families. I expect to experience that when I am at work because that is the very nature of what we do.

This weekend I got to experience kindness and concern in a different context. I was on the receiving end and it wasn't at work.

Experience 1: My beloved truck which has so faithfully got me around through the ice and snow decided to rebel for some reason and just stopped. Thankfully, we had just pulled off on a side street when everything shut down. My first reaction was less than honorable as my jaw clenched and some unfortunate grumblings made their way out under my breath. Trying to restart it, a guy in another truck pulled up beside and offered his help. I declined and said that my son and I would just push it into a parking lot and without hesitation he said, "Ok - I'll help you push then." He pulled up ahead and came back, in the slush and all, and helped us push the truck into a neighboring parking lot. I thanked him for his help and he was on his way.

Case 2: We ran into old friends at Costco - friends we hadn't seen for probably at least a couple of years. As we were talking, they made it a point to introduce their two sons to our son. Their mom stated, "We want them to meet Cade because we pray for him every night so now they can have a face with the name." We had been in a small group with this family before we moved to New Jersey. While in New Jersey my son was diagnosed with a rare eye disease and they have been praying for him ever since. That has been 5 years.

Both of these experiences were kind of convicting for me. On the one hand, having the openness to see and act upon opportunities and to come alongside people when the opportunity presents itself. Am I too focused on my own schedule and agenda that I pass by people that could use a hand? Did I get so mad at the inconvenience of my truck breaking down because it messed up the plans I had in mind? What was in the guy's heart that made him stop to help? Secondly, the consistent, faithful, intentional concern to lift others up in prayer by name causes me to pause and evaluate my own prayer life. Am I just as intentional with my prayers? By even asking the questions I am admitting that I need a little work in both of these areas.

So tonight I am thankful for the examples of these two experiences - one from a stranger and one from long time friends. And when I think about it - I am surrounded by a lot of people that inspire me and challenge me in these and other ways. I am a blessed man.

And surely, there still is goodness and loving kindness in the world.

Money Ball and Regrets

"It's easy to be romantic about baseball." from the movie Moneyball.

"Baseball was, is, and always will be to me the best game in the world." Babe Ruth

So I watched the movie Moneyball last night. Great movie. There are few baseball movies that I don't like. Field of Dreams is my #2 all time favorite movie. It was #1 for a long time but was knocked off by a non-baseball flick. Hard to believe but it's true.

There is something about the game of baseball that resonates with my soul. The sights, sounds, smells, strategy....all of it.

In my work I often ask people about regrets they may have as a way for them to acknowledge them, talk about them, and possibly heal from them. Sometimes it happens and sometimes it doesn't. Asking all these questions of others forces me to ask them of myself from time to time.

If there is one thing I regret (trust me, there are a lot more than one) it is that I never pursued playing baseball after high school. Why? I've come up with a list of excuses over the years - I was in a "relationship" and didn't want to go anywhere far away (lame I know); An injury during summer ball after my senior year (true but ever heard of rehab?); I just wasn't good enough (maybe, maybe not). If I am perhaps honest with myself, maybe it was that I was scared of not being good enough - of getting rejected. In order to avoid rejection, I didn't even try in the first place. It's hard to be rejected when you aren't there to be rejected in the first place.

That is a regret for me. Not so much that I never played, but that I didn't even pursue it. I let my own doubts of my ability stop me from even trying. I experienced the same doubts when we left for Princeton as I started seminary. That old familiar voice of doubt regarding whether or not I could cut it academically were loud as we drove across the country. Something transformed inside of me as we ventured out from the comfort zone of familiar and easy. I started to see that freedom lies not so much in making sure you are always doing the right thing which is basically motivation from avoiding rejection by not doing the wrong thing. Freedom lies in living life as a response to the love I have been shown which is motivated by unconditional acceptance. Writing it out is a lot easier then putting it into practice and I still find myself at times focused on performance but I think if I were 18 again I might have given baseball another shot.

I keep this letter to remind me that certain opportunities come along once in a lifetime and to "try and fail is better to have not tried at all."

New Life

Do you know the significance of the number 1,292,976,000? How about 604,800?

How do you measure the significance of a life? Today will forever mark two events in the lives of people I know.

Today marked 41 years since Sarah breathed her first breath. Her birth has affected my life significantly for the better. Not just mine but obviously our kids' lives as well since they basically wouldn't be here without her. Just thought I would state the obvious. Today we celebrated the fact that she was born and that she is part of our lives. We celebrated the difference she has made in our lives through the way she loves us, cares for us, prays for us, and is simply there for us. We celebrated because she is alive and for who she is.

One of her favorite authors is Henri Nouwen so I thought I'd throw in a little snippet of what he says about the importance of celebrating birthdays:

Birthdays need to be celebrated. I think it is more important to celebrate a birthday than a successful exam, a promotion, or a victory. Because to celebrate a birthday means to say to someone: "Thank you for being you." Celebrating a birthday is exalting life and being glad for it. On a birthday we do not say: "Thanks for what you did, or said, or accomplished." No, we say: "Thank you for being born and being among us."

On birthdays we celebrate the present. We do not complain about what happened or speculate about what will happen, but we lift someone up and let everyone say: "We love you."

Today also marks the day that a family will forever remember as the day their baby died. After being with the family this morning I reflected on the two contrasting meanings of the day. On one hand, there is celebration for life - remembering a birth. On the other hand, there is tremendous grief and the marking of a death. One life born 41 years ago and one life ended in 7 days.

How do you measure the significance of a life? Both my wife's life of 41 years and the baby's life of 7 days have had an impact that has changed the lives around them. The mom said this morning as she held her baby, "I wouldn't change any decision we made. {the baby} has taught us so much and we are different people because of our time together. "

Each second we have counts. Each second is significant. Whether you are 1,292,976,000 seconds old (41 years) or 604,800 seconds old (7 days). Never underestimate the impact you have on other people and celebrate each and every second you have been given with your own life and the lives that are closest to you.

For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.

Psalm 139:13-14

What would I say?

Adopted twice.

Baptized twice.

Both effective.

So I just got done watching a video by Mark Schultz explaining the significance behind his song "Everything to Me." Yikes. His story hit close to home in that I am adopted as well.

I have often thought about the circumstances that surrounded my adoption. It is easy for me to conjure up different scenarios as to why, for some reason, my biological parents could not or would not keep me for themselves. Were they young college lovers who indulged in a night of passion and wound up with more then they bargained for? (That is my favorite one by the way.) Was I the product of a criminal act forced upon my biological mother? (An entirely different feeling about that one.) Or am I actually a mixture of the proper ingredients in a test tube? (Far fetched but interesting to say the least. Might explain my fear of getting trapped in a big PVC pipe.)

I've never had a problem with being adopted. Both my sister and I were adopted at birth. She found her biological mother and who her bio-mother said the father was but he denied it was him. Nice.

For me, truthfully, I really haven't thought that much about it. I guess I have the curiosity I mentioned above regarding the circumstances but I have never felt that my life was missing anything because I didn't have that relationship with my biological parents. Some people win the lottery but I was blessed with something beyond "luck" like that. My mom and dad, not to mention my extended family, are just plain good people. They aren't people I would hang around because I had to, they are people I hang around because I want to. And I love them.

As far as growing up feeling "adopted" I never experienced that. I suppose that isn't necessarily the case in all adoptions. I remember talking with a gal at seminary who was also adopted. We shared our stories together and at one point she stated, "For you, the only one who knew you were adopted was you and your family and anyone you chose to tell. For me, it was a little different." I am white and adopted by a white family. She is Asian and adopted by a white family. She made a good point.

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this tonight. I know that one day I will find out "the rest of the story" and it makes me nervous, excited, curious, and somewhat emotional. For me there is a fine balance with this. I would never want my mom and dad to feel that anything was missing from my life because quite honestly there isn't. My motivation would be purely out of a desire to express my feelings of gratitude and thanks for the decision she or they made. But really, how do you say thank you for such a huge gift? It seems terribly insufficient to simply say that I would just say "thanks." I guess it is one of those things that you think you may know how you would act or what you would say but until it happens you don't really know. Being the cry-baby I am I would probably not be able to say anything but simply let my tears express the difference that decision made for me.

Honestly, I wasn't expecting to go here tonight. Today was ok. Kinda blah. Slippery and icey, grey and dismal. People dealing with tough issues in their life. But watching Mark's story and then the video of the song has given me a lot to think about and definitely with overwhelming gratitude in my heart. When God talks about adopting us into his family it takes on more meaning for me in that I have a tangible picture of that through my situation. The sacrifice made by my biological parent(s) gave me the chance for a new life. I'm sure that some people, like Mark did initially, view their adoption as rejection or a "giving up" of them to strangers. I choose to see it as an act of love and sacrifice and for that I am humbled, thankful, and speechless. I guess the proper response is to live in such a way that honors the life I was given and not take for granted each breath I am gifted each day.

Blasts from Winter's Past

Short on words tonight. Computer crashed. Reloading everything. New operating system. PAININTHEBUTT. Why? Why does something work one second and then not work the next? Anyway...I wanted to keep my post streak going so pictures will have to suffice for tonight.

White Pass

Sun River


Portland


Princeton
NYC - Rockefeller Center
Princeton

Some yard somewhere
Richland
Two snowbunnies that we picked up

Snow Day?

So.....the question is.....will there be a snow day tomorrow? I remember having a big bank of windows in my classroom when I used to teach. Whether it was high school or middle school if snow started falling there would inevitably be at least one student (usually a girl) who would exclaim with great excitement - "SNOW!" We never really out grow that do we. There is something about snow that excites even the grumpiest grump.

I am reading this book "Telling the Truth." It was assigned reading for a class I took in seminary and I picked it up again about a week ago. Honestly, when I read it for class I read it because I had to read it or at least portions of it. I can say that it didn't impress me the first time around. Probably because I knew that there would be some paper to write or discussion to have in precepts. This time around is a completely different experience. I don't know what it is but I have been devouring it this time like a pit bull on a poodle. I won't go into too much detail but the basic premise of the book is that the gospel is tragedy, comedy, and fairytale and to preach the gospel in its entirety you must address all three. If you are wincing at the terms the author uses to describe the gospel, namely tragedy, comedy, and fairytale the best suggestion I have for you is to read the book. I had my doubts at first glance as well and that's probably one of the reasons I didn't enjoy it as much the first time because I might not have given it a fair shake.

So what does this have to do with snow? It just so happens that the little bit I read last night flurried around the theme of snow. (Get it? Flurried....how clever)

Here is what it said:

You wake up on a winter morning and pull up the shade, and what lay there the evening before is no longer there - the sodden grey yard, the dog droppings, the tire tracks in the frozen mud, the broken lawn chair you forgot to take in last fall. All this has disappeared overnight, and what you look out on is not the snow of Narnia but the snow of home, which is no less shimmering and white as it falls. The earth is covered with it, and it is falling still in silence so deep that you can hear its silence. It is snow to be shoveled, to make driving even worse than usual, snow to be joked about and cursed at, but unless the child in you is entirely dead, it is snow, too, that can make the heart beat faster when it catches you by surprise that way, before your defenses are up. It is snow that can awaken memories of things more wonderful than anything you ever knew or dreamed.

I remember being on a winter retreat in high school at a camp on White Pass. I woke up early for some reason on Saturday and walked a short trail that overlooked a lake. That morning has always been imprinted on my mind because it was so quiet and peaceful.....and it was snowing. Big, fat flakes were floating down all around me and since it was so quiet I could hear them as they landed. Hard to explain the feeling but if you've ever experienced something like that you know what I'm talking about. A feeling of being connected to something bigger than just yourself.

The book has caused me to think about a lot of stuff so I am sure you will be hearing more about it. As for tonight, I will leave you with one final thought: Don't eat yellow snow.

(The picture is of our two of our kids on a "snow day" when cabin fever struck with a vengeance. Notice the shirt my daughter is wearing.....oh the irony.)

Life in a Day

An individual has not started living until he can rise above the narrow confines of his individualistic concerns to the broader concerns of all humanity.
Martin Luther King Jr.

I might add to King's words that in order to do this he must first know what the broader concerns of all humanity are and to know what those are he must be willing to enter into relationship with those that are "other" than himself.

One of the aspects of my job that I really enjoy is being able to sit and hear people tell their story. I have found that asking the right questions plays a big part in being able to elicit what is most important to people. Giving them a chance to tell what they want to tell and in the way they want to tell it. Story-telling, even if it is your own story, is an art.

"A story is a mind picture painted by the human voice instead of the human hand. A story is a great life-message that passes from one soul to another. It steals as quietly as a canoe into the hidden places where naught else can go; it is as soothing as a song sometimes and at other times it cuts like a two-edged sword. It is quickly given, but it lasts in life through eternity. It has power to bless and it has power to curse." (Margaret W. Eggleston)

As I was on-call last night I figured I would watch a movie to pass some time. I happened upon a documentary called Life In A Day. If you are a netflix or youtube person it should be no problem for you to find. The link at the bottom of the blog will take you right to youtube if you want to watch it. The basic premise of the film is that people were asked to upload video of their story on one day, July 24, 2010 and answer a few questions. I can't remember all of them but the two that stuck out to me were "What do you love?" and "What do you fear?" It was a perspective-giver to me in that it did a good job of showing the diversity of experience and "story" on any given day, in any given culture, at any given place on the planet. Some parts will make you wince, some laugh, and some cry. Or, at least they did me.

I've kinda wondered what the point of all this writing is and why I am doing it. Perhaps the best reason I can think of is that it gives me a medium to share my story with whoever will take the time to read it. I am most interested in having it as something my kids can read later in life - words from their dad's inner sanctum. Ok - that's a little creepy. How about words from their dad's heart that they might find meaningful one day.

The pic is of Cade and me at Camp Ghormley one summer when I was a speaker up there. Lots of good stories about that place.

http://www.youtube.com/lifeinaday?feature=etp-gs-lif-00

Time - friend or foe?

"Put your hand on a hot stove for a minute, and it seems like an hour. Sit with a pretty girl for an hour, and it seems like a minute. THAT'S relativity." Albert Einstein

We went to Southern California for a week over Christmas break. There was barely time to breathe on our trip as we scheduled a full day of activities for each and every day we were down there. As we flew back home after 7 days of jam-packed adventures and fun it almost seemed as if we hadn't even gone. The week literally flew by.

I think of other times such as spending time with families as they wait for the outcome of life-saving or life-ending surgery for their loved one that has just been in an accident. Each minute seems like an eternity as the mind is flooded with what if's, cries to God, and feelings of helplessness.

How can a week go by like a blink of an eye in one context and in another seem like an eternity. Our constant adjustment to time points to, I believe, the fact that we weren't intended to be finite beings bound by time.

C.S. Lewis writes on this in Reflections on the Psalms:

We are so little reconciled to time that we are even astonished at it. “How he’s grown!” we exclaim, “How time flies!” as though the universal form of our experience were again and again a novelty. It is as strange as if a fish were repeatedly surprised at the wetness of water. And that would be strange indeed; unless of course the fish were destined to become, one day, a land animal.

Either situation, a seemingly fast week or a week of looking at the clock repeatedly, can be equally frustrating. If things are good or better yet, amazing, I can find myself almost fatalistically fixating on the fact that at some point the "vacation" will be over which prohibits me from fully embracing the moment and enjoying it for what it is. On the other hand, if things are creeping along at the pace of a colonoscopy I have no problem wallowing in the gravity of the moment and forget that time can also be merciful in that it never stops. I guess that recognizing each moment and honoring the time we have been given (no matter what our situation) might be a good start. To be content in all circumstances as Paul writes. Much easier said than done - I realize that. That is why it is all the more important to also realize that we are not alone in our "highs" and "lows." Others are out there experiencing the same struggle with time and either how fast it seems to be slipping away or how slow it seems to dragging by.

I'd write more but I have to go work out. One hour. Some of you are saying, "Is that all?" while I tend to think, "Wow that's a long time." See- it's all relative.

Chasing the light

So I have this new camera. I saved three years for it and finally convinced myself that it was time to make the jump and buy it. Today was the first day I took it out to do some landscape shots. With photography, so much depends on light. The best light of the day usually means sunrises or sunsets. I got up early to head to a spot for hopefully some good color and sky. The whole drive felt like I was chasing the light. Usually, there is a window where the color is the best and if you miss that window it is kind of disappointing. Anyway, the drive started in the dark, dawn broke, and I found myself in some really beautiful surroundings. A new day.

All Things

Sometimes I can't turn my mind off. I replay the day - wondering if I should have said more or just been quite. Wondering if I was yielding to the Spirit's leading or suppressing it. Wondering how tomorrow will be or the day after or the day after. That can be exhausting. It's kind of like swimming in one of those jetted pools where you kick and keep moving your arms but you don't ever get anywhere.

I rely a lot on the wisdom of other people when I get like this. I like to read scripture. I like to read books (or parts of books) and sometimes I just like to distract my brain and watch The Office. Michael Scott has some very deep wisdom at times.

Tonight the wisdom comes from John Piper who turns my eyes back to where they should be all the time - to Christ.

"This is all very strange. Because of the gospel, God promises to "give us all things" with Christ (Rom. 8:32). The "all things" turns out to include not just pleasant things but terrible things like tribulation, distress, persecution, famine, nakedness, danger, sword, and death. These are all gospel gifts purchased for us by the blood of Christ. Death is a gift because it takes us more quickly to the great good of the gospel - seeing and savoring the glory of God in the face of Christ. What about these other gifts - tribulation, distress, and so on? How are they benefits that are bought by the gospel? How are they part of "all things" in Romans 8:32 and 28 and Philippians 4:13? The answer is that in the merciful sovereignty of Christ, empowered by his own blood, these sufferings accomplish the greatest good of the gospel, a more pure and authentic and deeply satisfying seeing and savoring of God in Christ."

All things....my worries, doubts, mistakes, intentions.....all things to ultimately place my all in Christ.

Be still

Psalm 46

God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble.

Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way
and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
though its waters roar and foam
and the mountains quake with their surging.

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy place where the Most High dwells.
God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at break of day.
Nations are in uproar, kingdoms fall;
he lifts his voice, the earth melts.

The LORD Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.

Come and see what the LORD has done,
the desolations he has brought on the earth.
He makes wars cease
to the ends of the earth.
He breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
he burns the shields with fire.

He says, “Be still, and know that I am God;

I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth.”

The LORD Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.

Conflict and Humility

So I am waiting in the car with my daughter this morning. It is 6:15 am. I let her stay in the car until her school bus comes so she doesn't have to wait out in the cold. A guy pulls up beside me, honks his horn, and sits there. I roll down my window.

"Hey - you know it's illegal to park within 30 feet of a stop sign. You are putting these kids at risk." His tone is a little condescending for my taste.

I have some options here.

1. Point out to him that he is now technically parked beside me and double parking is illegal as well.
2. Pretend I am deaf and start signing.
3. Turn up my radio really loud.
4. Say thank you and put my window back up.

I'll leave it to your imagination what I actually did. I don't really like conflict. In fact, just thinking about conflict gives me conflicted feelings. What a vicious cycle. I think if you've been alive for 5 minutes you have probably experienced conflict at some point in your life. I got some wisdom today regarding conflict from someone who was in the midst of it. The idea that humility must always accompany conflict is spot on. Humility says that even though we may be squared off towards one another I recognize that you are not perfect and neither am I. Humility says that we can dialogue about our differences without losing sight of our similarities. Humility says that I value you as a person more than I value my feeling of being right. And humility says you may actually be right and I need to change.

I continue to learn how to deal with conflict both as a receiver and as an initiator. I prefer neither but that's not realistic. I recognize my need to be called on the carpet at times and I believe that others should be as well. I do have some beliefs regarding this kind of interaction. Since conflict has to involve at least one person (even if you are conflicted within yourself) remember this little quote from Ravi Zacharias - it's one of my all time favorites. He speaks to having a conviction regarding something and sharing that conviction with another person. This is in the context of sharing your faith but I think it applies to other contexts - especially a conviction that is in the context of conflict.

If a conviction is that which is deeply engraved in your conscience, it is indispensable that it be undergirded with love. If it is not, it makes the possessor of that conviction obnoxious, and the dogma he or she possesses becomes repulsive.

Basically, people won't hear what you are saying if it is not said in a way that communicates a motivation of love and concern for the hearer.

I didn't hear love in the parking nazi's voice this morning as he graciously shared his advice. However, I will probably park somewhere else tomorrow to avoid any conflict. :)

(If life could just be as happy as Ma and Pa in the picture above)