Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Joining Hands
This week sees two big events within the Body of Christ. Tomorrow is the National Day of Prayer and Saturday is Thrivent's Join Hands Day. My own congregation will be participating in both events. I'll definetly be participating in both as well. Why not consider joing your brothers and sisters in Christ and doing so also. God bless and keep you all.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
On your marks, Get set...
Sunday night was a bit frustrating as my youngest finally got his very own big wheel so he can now race his older brother on his tricycle. Assembly is not my forte and though I can follow directions well, when the directions are vague...trouble looms. The big wheel was finished long after dark, so the boys didn't get to race until Monday night when it was extremely cold and windy so they were cut short.
Even with the seat all the way up, my youngest still just barely touches the pedals and so he prefers just going with his feet on the ground ala the Flintstones, which works for him though he likely be going through shoes faster. He just needs to grow a little in the legs and get used to it.
Of course, my oldest is now a terror on three wheels as he can be down the block and out of sight in an instant (meaning it is difficult now to garden and watch him on his bike at the same time now). We live on a quiet dead-end court so the traffic is minimal, but the neighbors do come in and out and some people turn around there so he needs to learn when he can go, and when he needs to stay on his marks, set and ready, but without actually going.
It ought to be a fun summer!
Even with the seat all the way up, my youngest still just barely touches the pedals and so he prefers just going with his feet on the ground ala the Flintstones, which works for him though he likely be going through shoes faster. He just needs to grow a little in the legs and get used to it.
Of course, my oldest is now a terror on three wheels as he can be down the block and out of sight in an instant (meaning it is difficult now to garden and watch him on his bike at the same time now). We live on a quiet dead-end court so the traffic is minimal, but the neighbors do come in and out and some people turn around there so he needs to learn when he can go, and when he needs to stay on his marks, set and ready, but without actually going.
It ought to be a fun summer!
Monday, April 28, 2008
With Calluses to Prove it
My sister--my bride and I (that is my wife and I, my mother-in-law gets a bit confused everytime I call her that) completed round one of our spring yard prep this weekend. The first lawn mowing of 2008 was accomplished after several days of vigorous raking by both of us. Neither of us wore gloves as we should have and both of us have wounds to the webbing on our hands between the thumb and forefinger.
We are both tough though and with a few bandaids and ointment, we'll muscle through and get ready for round two...the actual planting of flowers & veggies.
Thanks sweetie for all your help in getting it done this week. Hope your hands feel better very soon.
We are both tough though and with a few bandaids and ointment, we'll muscle through and get ready for round two...the actual planting of flowers & veggies.
Thanks sweetie for all your help in getting it done this week. Hope your hands feel better very soon.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
A Toad Named Froggy
What a precious day we had today experiencing the joy of God's Creation with all its goodness. While raking the yard this morning, I came across a toad taking up residence there and showed him to my 5 year old. He was fascinated...which I found surprising as I was expecting him to be fearful and reluctant to observe closely...but fascination overcame those.
"Can I take him inside?" he asked "Can I keep him as a pet?"
"No." I replied "He lives out here in our yard. Why don't you go put him in our garden and see if he likes it there."
My son carried him in the big plastic bowl out to our garden and let him go.
"I've named him Daddy." he said as he stood bent over at the waist and looking at the toad in the dirt.
"What have you named him?" I asked
"His name is 'Froggy'" he responded
"You know he's a toad, not a frog." I thoughtfully corrected.
"I know Dad. He's a toad. His NAME is 'Froggy'" he corrected back.
What a day we spent in that yard today. Our small tiny piece of His awesome creation became a place for us to share a special moment of discovery. When creation touches me so, I often read through Psalm 104 and I did again this evening. "I will sing to the Lord all my life; I will sing praise to my God as long as I live." We promise to look out for Froggy if we see him as good stewards should.
"Can I take him inside?" he asked "Can I keep him as a pet?"
"No." I replied "He lives out here in our yard. Why don't you go put him in our garden and see if he likes it there."
My son carried him in the big plastic bowl out to our garden and let him go.
"I've named him Daddy." he said as he stood bent over at the waist and looking at the toad in the dirt.
"What have you named him?" I asked
"His name is 'Froggy'" he responded
"You know he's a toad, not a frog." I thoughtfully corrected.
"I know Dad. He's a toad. His NAME is 'Froggy'" he corrected back.
What a day we spent in that yard today. Our small tiny piece of His awesome creation became a place for us to share a special moment of discovery. When creation touches me so, I often read through Psalm 104 and I did again this evening. "I will sing to the Lord all my life; I will sing praise to my God as long as I live." We promise to look out for Froggy if we see him as good stewards should.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Pew Poetry ~ Hymnody
Hymnody
The organist grinds out the intro, and I draw in a breath
The congregation sings out the hymn, but my voice sounds worse than death.
Oh how thankful I am, that those near me can keep their poise,
As I now just how grating, is the sound of my "joyful noise"
I can see those behind me, yanking on my invisible bridle
It's like being judged by Simon, if I were on American Idol
But on I go singing out, even though I stink,
My wife suggests that perhaps I should try to lip sync
But in the end it is the words, the message that I bellow
That to God's ears has the sound as beautiful as a cello
So there I'll be every week, standing in my pew,
Contributing to the hymnody and giving God his due.
The organist grinds out the intro, and I draw in a breath
The congregation sings out the hymn, but my voice sounds worse than death.
Oh how thankful I am, that those near me can keep their poise,
As I now just how grating, is the sound of my "joyful noise"
I can see those behind me, yanking on my invisible bridle
It's like being judged by Simon, if I were on American Idol
But on I go singing out, even though I stink,
My wife suggests that perhaps I should try to lip sync
But in the end it is the words, the message that I bellow
That to God's ears has the sound as beautiful as a cello
So there I'll be every week, standing in my pew,
Contributing to the hymnody and giving God his due.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Baseball on AM Radio
At our house, we don't get the Eastern Seaboard Propaganda Network, or any of the regional sports stations that show most of the televised baseball games. So to see a game on TV nowadays, I'm left only with the Fox game of the week on Saturdays. But I love baseball. So to follow my beloved White Sox, I'm left with busting out the old AM Radio and trying to bring in that far away Chicago broadcast.
Call me a throwback, but I actually PREFER listening to the game on the radio then to watching it on TV. At night I can cruise the dial and actually pick-up Cleveland, St.Louis, and many other AM broadcasts at varying strengths and unlike television, where the score, inning, outs, baserunners, speed of the last pitch and even current temp is all there on the screen as soon as I turn the game on, with radio, you have to work at figuring out what the score is, what inning it is, who's batting, who's pitching, etc. There is some "effort" involved and some ownership involved as the mental images of the action being described are all mine. We've all heard of "listening skills" but who's ever heard of "television viewing skills"? It takes practice, it takes effort, it takes discipline to enjoy a baseball game on the radio as opposed to just watching it on the tube.
As men, I think sometimes we need to remind ourselves of that when it comes to listening to our wives, our children, our neighbors, even our enemies. I once had the pleasure of hearing Martin Marty speak while I was in college and one of the things he said that stuck with me is that the difference between an argument and a conversation was that the latter actually requires you to listen. In an argument you merely want to get YOUR point across, often times over and over and over. Though you may pause to allow your opponent to make their point...you aren't listening to it! Conversation involves listening. It involves participation of both parties, even when they are not the ones speaking.
Heavenly Father, please help me to be as good a listener with my wife, children, neighbors, and enemies, as I am with a baseball game on the radio.
Call me a throwback, but I actually PREFER listening to the game on the radio then to watching it on TV. At night I can cruise the dial and actually pick-up Cleveland, St.Louis, and many other AM broadcasts at varying strengths and unlike television, where the score, inning, outs, baserunners, speed of the last pitch and even current temp is all there on the screen as soon as I turn the game on, with radio, you have to work at figuring out what the score is, what inning it is, who's batting, who's pitching, etc. There is some "effort" involved and some ownership involved as the mental images of the action being described are all mine. We've all heard of "listening skills" but who's ever heard of "television viewing skills"? It takes practice, it takes effort, it takes discipline to enjoy a baseball game on the radio as opposed to just watching it on the tube.
As men, I think sometimes we need to remind ourselves of that when it comes to listening to our wives, our children, our neighbors, even our enemies. I once had the pleasure of hearing Martin Marty speak while I was in college and one of the things he said that stuck with me is that the difference between an argument and a conversation was that the latter actually requires you to listen. In an argument you merely want to get YOUR point across, often times over and over and over. Though you may pause to allow your opponent to make their point...you aren't listening to it! Conversation involves listening. It involves participation of both parties, even when they are not the ones speaking.
Heavenly Father, please help me to be as good a listener with my wife, children, neighbors, and enemies, as I am with a baseball game on the radio.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Work, Occupation, or Profession
The Puritan's were famous for their "work ethic" that encouraged each other to stay busy so that their minds wouldn't have time to think about stuff like sinning. In other words, stay busy, stay out of trouble. Of course we all know that though in the short-term there may be some success with such a philosophy, in the long run even keeping busy cannot overcome the sinful nature in all of us.
That got me thinking about jobs in general. Are our jobs simply work? Are they "occupations"? Or are they "professions?" If what we do is simply our "occupation," doesn't that imply that we do it merely to "occupy" our time? If it is merely "work" isn't it just doing something other than "resting"? I personally like to think of my jobs as "professions." In fact, in my part-time evening job, I am an adjunct "Professor," so "profession" is right on the money. Profession implies more than mere occupying time and even more than simply working. It implies belief. It implies passion. At the start of the each semester I often tell my students that a professor is more than just a teacher, a teacher teaches while a professor professes knowledge. A math teacher might teach you one plus one equals two but a math professor will profess to you that he believes that one plus one equals two.
As members of the body of Christ, I think we all need to be "professional" church workers. We all need to go beyond being mere fellow workers in the kingdom and start being fellow professionals in the kingdom where our our passion and zeal go hand in hand with the tasks laid before us. I am not occupied with the Lord's work, I profess my faith through service to my God and my neighbors. I pray that the Lord will strengthen me for all my professions each day so that I might walk in His way and carry out His will.
That got me thinking about jobs in general. Are our jobs simply work? Are they "occupations"? Or are they "professions?" If what we do is simply our "occupation," doesn't that imply that we do it merely to "occupy" our time? If it is merely "work" isn't it just doing something other than "resting"? I personally like to think of my jobs as "professions." In fact, in my part-time evening job, I am an adjunct "Professor," so "profession" is right on the money. Profession implies more than mere occupying time and even more than simply working. It implies belief. It implies passion. At the start of the each semester I often tell my students that a professor is more than just a teacher, a teacher teaches while a professor professes knowledge. A math teacher might teach you one plus one equals two but a math professor will profess to you that he believes that one plus one equals two.
As members of the body of Christ, I think we all need to be "professional" church workers. We all need to go beyond being mere fellow workers in the kingdom and start being fellow professionals in the kingdom where our our passion and zeal go hand in hand with the tasks laid before us. I am not occupied with the Lord's work, I profess my faith through service to my God and my neighbors. I pray that the Lord will strengthen me for all my professions each day so that I might walk in His way and carry out His will.
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Who's Your Favorite?
This past Saturday saw the visit of a Model Train show at our local Civic Center so my oldest and I decided to check it out (my younger son was running a bit of a fever and doesn't do well in "look but don't touch" environments so we opted to leave him home). So my older son and I checked out the layouts and hit most of the booths selling supplies from big Lionel to tiny "N"-scale trains and he just had a ball. We used the "hands in your pockets" rule to keep him from touching the trains. When we had had our fill of trains, he wanted a big soft pretzel for lunch so it was off to Target and he got the pretzel. He had a great day.
When we got home, his mommy asked him about his special day with daddy and then asked him "who was his favorite?" to which he rightly replied "Daddy AND Mommy!" Sometimes, even when parents ask silly questions, kids can give the best answers
When we got home, his mommy asked him about his special day with daddy and then asked him "who was his favorite?" to which he rightly replied "Daddy AND Mommy!" Sometimes, even when parents ask silly questions, kids can give the best answers
Monday, April 21, 2008
Dinner Out...Side
Thanks to the efforts of my sister, my bride, yesterday afternoon. The family was able to enjoy our first of what will hopefully be many, 2008 meals on our screened-in deck. While I toiled away in the playroom getting the boys toys orga-noized, she washed down the table and chairs, siding and everything else on the deck and got it ready, then ran out for some fresh burger patties and veggies to go with it and of course, a new supply of charcoal.
I got the grill going for the first time in '08 and we enjoyed a sitdown dinner out...side that is and it was a beautiful evening. Here's to more of the same this year and thanks for making yesterday such a simple yet special dinner together. Love you lots.
I got the grill going for the first time in '08 and we enjoyed a sitdown dinner out...side that is and it was a beautiful evening. Here's to more of the same this year and thanks for making yesterday such a simple yet special dinner together. Love you lots.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Grace & Peace in Abundance
This afternoon was just one of those days. Grace and Peace in abundance. We had spent much of the day cleaning inside and had now shifted to the outdoors. The screenporch was getting a thorough spring cleaning from winter wear-n-tear and my older son was out in the backyard while my younger lay inside taking a nap. The grill was fired up for the first time since last fall and fresh burgers were going on the grill.
As the thin layer of smoke wafted upwards from the grill, carried on a slight breeze, the gentle rythmic creeking of my son's swing going back and forth backed a Mourning Dove's call as it perched on a wire nearby. There was no traffic, no hustle and bustle, no sirens, trains, or even earthquakes to disrupt this moment of 1
Peter 1:2b (NIV): "Grace and peace be yours in abundance."
It was and I am forever thankful to my Lord and Savior for the simple blessing of that moment
As the thin layer of smoke wafted upwards from the grill, carried on a slight breeze, the gentle rythmic creeking of my son's swing going back and forth backed a Mourning Dove's call as it perched on a wire nearby. There was no traffic, no hustle and bustle, no sirens, trains, or even earthquakes to disrupt this moment of 1
Peter 1:2b (NIV): "Grace and peace be yours in abundance."
It was and I am forever thankful to my Lord and Savior for the simple blessing of that moment
Friday, April 18, 2008
Shake, Rattle, & Roll
Well, both my wife and I woke up at 4:30 this morning...both to yell at our son for shaking the bed. What is funny is that my wife was in my son's bed (he was having a rough night with "monsters in my closet" and I was in our bed, and my son was actually at that point in with me). So my wife was yelling at no one and I was yelling at a child asleep on the bed motionless. Meanwhile, the screenporch was bouncing up and down on its supports, the walls were clearly shaking, and the headboard to our bed was rattling against the wall.
Now this isn't an all to uncommon phenomenon here in the heart of the prairie as we have plenty of "big winds" and of course T-Storms & even Tornados & Microbursts that shake the house even worse. They all bring with them a lot of noise though, and this morning it was eerily silent. We got up and checked the house for damage. She lived in California for many years and I was stationed there for a while myself so we both knew from experience that this had all the tell-tale signs of an earthquake...you just don't EXPECT that on the prairie. We thought maybe there had been a big explosion out at the ADM plant but we are close enough to that that we would have HEARD it and not just felt it. It had to be an earthquake.
As you most likely know by now, it was in fact an earthquake striking to our southeast here in the heart of the Illinois. No rivers flowed backwards and early reports indicate little damage and no injuries so this wasn't the monster mid-west quake they predict will someday shake the prairie again like it did way back 1815 in New Madrid, Missouri where it made the Mississippi flow North for a time. I'm sure the next few weeks will be filled with news features on "how to survive the big one when it comes" or "what should be in your earthquake survival kit" or "is the end coming soon" and I just know the Global Warming evangelists will be out preaching that this is yet another sign of death and destruction that awaits mankind unless we all buy hybrids and change to fluorescent bulbs.
We survived the big shake of '08, the biggest here in Illinois since the big shake of '68. Damage free, worry free, and not very likely to be watching the local news for a few weeks as I am just not in the mood for their "special reports" on our impending doom. Have to try and find Bill Haley & the Comets singing "Shake, Rattle, and Roll" today and give it a spin on the old turntable. Have a great weekend
Now this isn't an all to uncommon phenomenon here in the heart of the prairie as we have plenty of "big winds" and of course T-Storms & even Tornados & Microbursts that shake the house even worse. They all bring with them a lot of noise though, and this morning it was eerily silent. We got up and checked the house for damage. She lived in California for many years and I was stationed there for a while myself so we both knew from experience that this had all the tell-tale signs of an earthquake...you just don't EXPECT that on the prairie. We thought maybe there had been a big explosion out at the ADM plant but we are close enough to that that we would have HEARD it and not just felt it. It had to be an earthquake.
As you most likely know by now, it was in fact an earthquake striking to our southeast here in the heart of the Illinois. No rivers flowed backwards and early reports indicate little damage and no injuries so this wasn't the monster mid-west quake they predict will someday shake the prairie again like it did way back 1815 in New Madrid, Missouri where it made the Mississippi flow North for a time. I'm sure the next few weeks will be filled with news features on "how to survive the big one when it comes" or "what should be in your earthquake survival kit" or "is the end coming soon" and I just know the Global Warming evangelists will be out preaching that this is yet another sign of death and destruction that awaits mankind unless we all buy hybrids and change to fluorescent bulbs.
We survived the big shake of '08, the biggest here in Illinois since the big shake of '68. Damage free, worry free, and not very likely to be watching the local news for a few weeks as I am just not in the mood for their "special reports" on our impending doom. Have to try and find Bill Haley & the Comets singing "Shake, Rattle, and Roll" today and give it a spin on the old turntable. Have a great weekend
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Guys & Grills
We, meaning some of the men of my church, recently had a meeting to plan our 3rd annual Dad (and Granddad) & Kids Camping trip coming up in May. The hilight of the meeting really came when we started talking about the grilling capacity of our campsite and how we might INCREASE it. We have a line a very large grill that would do just that and just this week, another email went out talking about upgrading Saturday night dinner for the adults (kids love to grill hot dogs on the open fire) to steak! [Insert the Tim Allen grunting noise here]
What is the fascination with raw meat over red coals that so many of us men have? I mean many of us are extremely adept cooks in the kitchen with a saucepan and burner--but put us outdoors with a Weber and we suddenly kick it up a notch [insert Emeril "BAM" here]. Is it the raw and rugged, throw back style of cooking? Is it the risk and danger brought by having red hot coals that can't be tamed with large flare ups every time a bit of grease drips from the succulent burgers and then going in armed only with tongs and the lid to the grill?
I don't really have an answer. I just know I enjoy being a grill master myself and now that spring is finally showing up it is time once again to start grilling! Gentlemen...start your charcoal!
What is the fascination with raw meat over red coals that so many of us men have? I mean many of us are extremely adept cooks in the kitchen with a saucepan and burner--but put us outdoors with a Weber and we suddenly kick it up a notch [insert Emeril "BAM" here]. Is it the raw and rugged, throw back style of cooking? Is it the risk and danger brought by having red hot coals that can't be tamed with large flare ups every time a bit of grease drips from the succulent burgers and then going in armed only with tongs and the lid to the grill?
I don't really have an answer. I just know I enjoy being a grill master myself and now that spring is finally showing up it is time once again to start grilling! Gentlemen...start your charcoal!
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Soaked In Memory
When I was in the Marine Corps, I had the distinct pleasure(although I didn't necessarily feel that way at the time) of attending the NCO Leadership course at the 1st Marine Expeditionary Brigade schools on Kaneohe Marine Corps Air Station in Hawaii. Towards the end of the course, we spent a week in the field and it was off to the Kahuku's we went.(The Kahuku's was a training area, with lots of hills, known for its distinct red dirt that would permanently stain your gear and clothing) One of the exercises we did in the field was a hump at MOPP-4.(MOPP was Mission Oriented Protective Posture and was designed to protect us in case of Chemical or Biological weapon attacks). The day started with us filling in the previous night's foxholes (we always left the training areas in better shape than we found them). As we were filling those in, we were placed on MOPP-2, meaning we had to don our chemical weapon protective suits. These were heavy, charcoal-lined suits to keep chemicals off our skin. We kept working under the hot Hawaiian sun and soon had the area back to how it was when we had arrived the day before and all our gear was packed and ready to be humped to the next site. By that time, we were at MOPP-4, meaning we had every bit of chemical weapon protection on including overboots, gloves, gas masks with hoods, and it was high noon in the hot Hawaiian sun. Did I mention that it was hot? Did I mention that we were now wearing our normal camoflage utilities AND these heavy charcoal-lined suits with a hood and gas mask covering our heads?
We humped in our squads with all our gear down a long trail. I emphasize two things: down (as in we were going down a steep hill) and all our gear (we had everything we brought into the field on our backs included a M2 50-caliber machine gun and its extra barrel, tripod, and ammo. We got the squad to the bottom of the trail in tact. We were all sweating up a storm in those suits, my gloves and boots were sloshing in collected sweat.
We were then told we needed to proceed...right back up to where we had been that morning. I remind you at this point that we had been travelling all down hill on this hump to that point, so a return to the beginning meant turning around and staring up at a mountain that we now had to climb.
Each of the NCO School class squads had made it down without a problem, each squad was together so that, had something happened at the bottom of the hill and we had needed to go into action, the squad would have been able to quickly pull together and piece together the parts of our primary weapon (that machine gun) and get busy. Going up the trail was an entirely different scenario. Gravity wasn't helping us as it had on the way down. Proper spacing between the squads was soon lost and with it, any inkling of who was in what squad. Remember, we all had these heavy suits and gas mask with hoods on. No one could really recognize anybody was the spacing was lost and squad integrity fell apart. Soon it became an individual struggle to get up that hill. You looked constantly up, at how far you had to go and pushed on (no one was looking back down at those struggling to take that next step). I was among the first 5 or 6 Marines to make it to the top. I had my squad's tripod, none of the rest of my squad was with me. The rest of the class began trickling onto the site. We were all soaked in sweat and still struggling to catch our breath within our gas masks (these could not be removed without going through the proper procedures for decontamination (this was an exercise but we training for the real thing so we had to do it all by the book). I likely lost about 20 pounds that day. After a while, they finally got everyone up that hill and all the gear too. Had we had to go into battle at the top, it isn't very likely we would have had even one intact M2 to fire, or any ammo to fire it with as that was all still working its way up the hill with other individual Marines. Those of us in the vanguard that made it up first had been feeling pretty smug in the early stages of our recovery. We had made it. How great were we? We were the best! Ooops.
We all failed miserably that day. The mission was to get the squad from point A - B (or really from A - A) and we failed. We left guys behind. We left vital gear with those guys. We left capabilities with those guys. Eventually the every individual within our squad, and all the other squads, made it to the top, but no SQUAD made it to the top as a unit, with all of its capabilities and equipment ready to go.
It it is one of those memories that quite literally SOAKED into my brain-housing group, so much so, that I have never forgotten the lesson I learned in my failure that day in the Kahukus. If I focus on me, I might make it to the end but I'm just as likely to be alone when I get there. If I focus on the group, serving others, I not only am just as likely to get to the end, but I'll have everyone else there with me when I get there!
Leadership isn't about getting there first, being the best, being the fastest, or being the strongest. Leadership is about making sure the last one gets there, making the least better, making the slow faster, and making the weak stronger. So much more so with Christian leadership and the Body of Christ. Are we focused on our own faith so much that we fail to bring the Body of Christ to the end with us?
I pray that God would give us the strength and wisdom each day to serve each other so that all of us poor miserable sinners can go about "encouraging, comforting and urging [each other] to live lives worthy of God, who calls [us] into his kingdom and glory" ~1 Thessalonians 2:12 (NIV)
We humped in our squads with all our gear down a long trail. I emphasize two things: down (as in we were going down a steep hill) and all our gear (we had everything we brought into the field on our backs included a M2 50-caliber machine gun and its extra barrel, tripod, and ammo. We got the squad to the bottom of the trail in tact. We were all sweating up a storm in those suits, my gloves and boots were sloshing in collected sweat.
We were then told we needed to proceed...right back up to where we had been that morning. I remind you at this point that we had been travelling all down hill on this hump to that point, so a return to the beginning meant turning around and staring up at a mountain that we now had to climb.
Each of the NCO School class squads had made it down without a problem, each squad was together so that, had something happened at the bottom of the hill and we had needed to go into action, the squad would have been able to quickly pull together and piece together the parts of our primary weapon (that machine gun) and get busy. Going up the trail was an entirely different scenario. Gravity wasn't helping us as it had on the way down. Proper spacing between the squads was soon lost and with it, any inkling of who was in what squad. Remember, we all had these heavy suits and gas mask with hoods on. No one could really recognize anybody was the spacing was lost and squad integrity fell apart. Soon it became an individual struggle to get up that hill. You looked constantly up, at how far you had to go and pushed on (no one was looking back down at those struggling to take that next step). I was among the first 5 or 6 Marines to make it to the top. I had my squad's tripod, none of the rest of my squad was with me. The rest of the class began trickling onto the site. We were all soaked in sweat and still struggling to catch our breath within our gas masks (these could not be removed without going through the proper procedures for decontamination (this was an exercise but we training for the real thing so we had to do it all by the book). I likely lost about 20 pounds that day. After a while, they finally got everyone up that hill and all the gear too. Had we had to go into battle at the top, it isn't very likely we would have had even one intact M2 to fire, or any ammo to fire it with as that was all still working its way up the hill with other individual Marines. Those of us in the vanguard that made it up first had been feeling pretty smug in the early stages of our recovery. We had made it. How great were we? We were the best! Ooops.
We all failed miserably that day. The mission was to get the squad from point A - B (or really from A - A) and we failed. We left guys behind. We left vital gear with those guys. We left capabilities with those guys. Eventually the every individual within our squad, and all the other squads, made it to the top, but no SQUAD made it to the top as a unit, with all of its capabilities and equipment ready to go.
It it is one of those memories that quite literally SOAKED into my brain-housing group, so much so, that I have never forgotten the lesson I learned in my failure that day in the Kahukus. If I focus on me, I might make it to the end but I'm just as likely to be alone when I get there. If I focus on the group, serving others, I not only am just as likely to get to the end, but I'll have everyone else there with me when I get there!
Leadership isn't about getting there first, being the best, being the fastest, or being the strongest. Leadership is about making sure the last one gets there, making the least better, making the slow faster, and making the weak stronger. So much more so with Christian leadership and the Body of Christ. Are we focused on our own faith so much that we fail to bring the Body of Christ to the end with us?
I pray that God would give us the strength and wisdom each day to serve each other so that all of us poor miserable sinners can go about "encouraging, comforting and urging [each other] to live lives worthy of God, who calls [us] into his kingdom and glory" ~1 Thessalonians 2:12 (NIV)
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Taxing Weekend
No, our taxes were done over a month ago. Though today is Tax Day, our taxing weekend wasn't scrambling to get forms completed and mailed, our taxing weekend was in continuing our Spring cleaning.
My sister--my bride, worked on sewing curtains for our kitchen (too match the painting/wallpapering we did back in January). The material looks perfect and when she's done I think it will all come together and she'll have her sunflower kitchen. My weekend was focused on the basement. You know, we painted that and set up a playroom for the boys back in January.
Well, this past Sunday I spent most of the day cleaning the boys, seldom used, playroom in the basement and the boys told me that they wanted their toys...upstairs. The novelty of the playroom in the basement had worn off by mid-January and they never really played down there anymore, so our little experiment is over. I've moved the living room down there and the boys playroom will be upstairs where I living room was, right off the screen porch so during the summer the toys (and boys) can move freely between their playroom and the porch for fresh air fun and excitement.
Oh well. I actually like that basement room as a living room myself, its warm in winter, cool in summer, and is quiet. (No TV noise travelling down the halls to a bedroom with a sleeping/napping child.)
The upstairs room isn't great as a playroom, but it was never good as a living room either as our furniture never fit in the room and always looked awkward (fits great downstairs!) The main issue is that it is upstairs with no doors, right off the main hallway and kitchen so, while it is much better for monitoring the boys as they play, it is also VERY visible to guests and the boys are not exactly neat freaks.
Our next step will be trying to get the boys to keep the room clean, clean up after they play and only get out one or two things at time. No, really, I am serious, we really think our boys will do this. Stop laughing. They WILL do this eventually. I'm giving them about a decade to figure it all out.
Still lots more to do, but the boys enjoyed an afternoon of waterpainting in their new playroom yesterday so it is getting more use than the old one already.
My sister--my bride, worked on sewing curtains for our kitchen (too match the painting/wallpapering we did back in January). The material looks perfect and when she's done I think it will all come together and she'll have her sunflower kitchen. My weekend was focused on the basement. You know, we painted that and set up a playroom for the boys back in January.
Well, this past Sunday I spent most of the day cleaning the boys, seldom used, playroom in the basement and the boys told me that they wanted their toys...upstairs. The novelty of the playroom in the basement had worn off by mid-January and they never really played down there anymore, so our little experiment is over. I've moved the living room down there and the boys playroom will be upstairs where I living room was, right off the screen porch so during the summer the toys (and boys) can move freely between their playroom and the porch for fresh air fun and excitement.
Oh well. I actually like that basement room as a living room myself, its warm in winter, cool in summer, and is quiet. (No TV noise travelling down the halls to a bedroom with a sleeping/napping child.)
The upstairs room isn't great as a playroom, but it was never good as a living room either as our furniture never fit in the room and always looked awkward (fits great downstairs!) The main issue is that it is upstairs with no doors, right off the main hallway and kitchen so, while it is much better for monitoring the boys as they play, it is also VERY visible to guests and the boys are not exactly neat freaks.
Our next step will be trying to get the boys to keep the room clean, clean up after they play and only get out one or two things at time. No, really, I am serious, we really think our boys will do this. Stop laughing. They WILL do this eventually. I'm giving them about a decade to figure it all out.
Still lots more to do, but the boys enjoyed an afternoon of waterpainting in their new playroom yesterday so it is getting more use than the old one already.
Monday, April 14, 2008
The One With All Those Wedding Dresses
Oh my sister, my bride...it was ten years ago this week.
Thursday evening, April 16th, 1998 to be exact.
LoneStar steakhouse was the site of our very first official date. We had known each other for more than year and had done many things together through our church work and even just for fun but never as an actual date. Who knew then what that date would lead to? Perhaps we should have, or at least you should have, and maybe you did?
That night at the restaurant, my back was to the bar part of the restaurant but you were facing it. From your seat at the table you could see the televisions above the bar and as you have admitted, you were actually watching Friends as it came on those TVs at 7pm that night. I looked it up on IMDB. The episode that aired that night was Season 4: Episode 20 entitled "The One With All Those Wedding Dresses" in which the three main female characters in the show all wear Wedding Dresses to cheer up Rachel, depressed that Ross and Emily are soon to be married.
What an interesting foreshadowing of where this date would lead. It was the ONE with the wedding dress in the end. Your wedding dress. You are as beautiful today as you were on that evening, on our wedding day, on every day since. I love you and am forever blessed that you said yes to the date, and yes to me forever.
Thursday evening, April 16th, 1998 to be exact.
LoneStar steakhouse was the site of our very first official date. We had known each other for more than year and had done many things together through our church work and even just for fun but never as an actual date. Who knew then what that date would lead to? Perhaps we should have, or at least you should have, and maybe you did?
That night at the restaurant, my back was to the bar part of the restaurant but you were facing it. From your seat at the table you could see the televisions above the bar and as you have admitted, you were actually watching Friends as it came on those TVs at 7pm that night. I looked it up on IMDB. The episode that aired that night was Season 4: Episode 20 entitled "The One With All Those Wedding Dresses" in which the three main female characters in the show all wear Wedding Dresses to cheer up Rachel, depressed that Ross and Emily are soon to be married.
What an interesting foreshadowing of where this date would lead. It was the ONE with the wedding dress in the end. Your wedding dress. You are as beautiful today as you were on that evening, on our wedding day, on every day since. I love you and am forever blessed that you said yes to the date, and yes to me forever.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
WCIPAI?
Remember the WWJD fad? Everything from bracelets to t-shirts to pencils to candy emblazened with the 4 letter question: "What Would Jesus Do?" The goal was to get people, especially young people, to stop and think before they acted. So in the midst of temptation you look at that rubber bracelet on your wrist and are reminded to look to Jesus the Messiah for an answer, and hopefully do God's will instead of your own in any given situation.
For me, in those moments when I get a chance to stop and actually think before I act, I turn to an entire book of the Bible. I find a complete book much better than an excerpt because the message is whole and intact and it speaks to me about how I should live, how I should proceed in any situation. So here is the entire book for you to read as well (I realize it is a whole book so take your time):
It is a short book, a brief letter from Paul to his friend and fellow worker Philemon in Colossae. So how does it speak to me? How does it help me when I am struggling to do the right thing? Look at the three main characters. You have Paul, writing from prison to his friend, and fellow Christian worker Philemon, likely a leader in the church at Colossae. The third character is Onesimus. A former slave from Colossae. Philemon's slave, who ran away. So what does it have to do with me? Where am I in the story? That is the question I have to ask. What Character In Philemon Am I? WCIPAI?
Am I Paul? Am I out there sharing the good news with the lost, even in my low point (prison in his case)? Do I offer myself as Christ did to pay the debt of my neighbors, my enemies?
Am I Philemon? Do I forgive those who trespass against me? Do I do the right thing by God, even when it seems to directly contradict what the right thing by the world, or the secular law is telling me?
Am I Onesimus? Am I out there answering the call and entering into the urgency that is the ministry that God calls me to, even when that means risk, perhaps even my livelihood, or even my life?
Onesimus has committed a crime. The penalty for his crime is death. He is a runaway slave and faces the death penalty if caught. Some would say his crime isn't a crime. Slavery is wrong and therefore his "crime" isn't really a crime...every justify sin the same way? Oh, this or that isn't really a sin, I'm not doing anything wrong and therefore I don't face the death penalty cause my action isn't really sinful. More importantly though, Onesimus is now being asked to return to Colossae (carrying this letter and also a letter to the Colossians, both of which will become part of the New Testament scripture) and face that death penalty. What do I face to do the will of God each day? Am I willing to face it?
Philemon has been wronged. He is being asked to forgive. He is being asked not only to forgive Onesimus for his actions, but also to forgo the penalty. Forgive the debt owed (A LIFE) for the crime committed. Doesn't sound terribly difficult but he is being asked to do it as a leader in a community where the community will view his action (forgiving a runaway slave and not only that, accepting him back as his equal and fellow worker) would be taken as socially revolutionary, even dangerous. Peer pressure would be strong against Philemon to do the right thing by Colossae and not by God. Philemon's prestige, his reputation are at risk. What will he do? What would I do?
Finally there is Paul. He is in prison and meets up with a lost soul in Onesimus and shares the good news with him. Onesimus, despite all the wrongs he's done, is saved by the grace of God through faith in the redeemer, Jesus the Messiah. Paul is in prison, his journey of faith has landed him in the pit that is prison and yet he sees opportunity even here! And then he takes it a step further. He offers his own life in place of Onesimus' life. He tells Philemon that he, Paul, would pay the debt owed by Onesimus, which we know is death. He offers to do just as Christ did for us upon the Cross, paying our debt in full. Am I ever like this at all? Do I see despair as opportunity? Do I offer myself in place of my neighbor? In place of my enemy?
WCIPAI? I start each day asking this question. Which Character In Philemon Am I going to be today? I then pray to God that he will give me the strength and courage to be all three when called upon to do so.
For me, in those moments when I get a chance to stop and actually think before I act, I turn to an entire book of the Bible. I find a complete book much better than an excerpt because the message is whole and intact and it speaks to me about how I should live, how I should proceed in any situation. So here is the entire book for you to read as well (I realize it is a whole book so take your time):
"Paul, a prisoner of Christ Jesus, and Timothy our brother,
To Philemon our dear friend and fellow worker, to Apphia our sister, to Archippus our fellow soldier and to the church that meets in your home:
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. I always thank my God as I remember you in my prayers, because I hear about your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for all the saints. I pray that you may be active in sharing your faith, so that you will have a full understanding of every good thing we have in Christ. Your love has given me great joy and encouragement, because you, brother, have refreshed the hearts of the saints.
Therefore, although in Christ I could be bold and order you to do what you ought to do, yet I appeal to you on the basis of love. I then, as Paul—an old man and now also a prisoner of Christ Jesus— I appeal to you for my son Onesimus, who became my son while I was in chains. Formerly he was useless to you, but now he has become useful both to you and to me.
I am sending him—who is my very heart—back to you. I would have liked to keep him with me so that he could take your place in helping me while I am in chains for the gospel. But I did not want to do anything without your consent, so that any favor you do will be spontaneous and not forced. Perhaps the reason he was separated from you for a little while was that you might have him back for good— no longer as a slave, but better than a slave, as a dear brother. He is very dear to me but even dearer to you, both as a man and as a brother in the Lord.
So if you consider me a partner, welcome him as you would welcome me. If he has done you any wrong or owes you anything, charge it to me. I, Paul, am writing this with my own hand. I will pay it back—not to mention that you owe me your very self. I do wish, brother, that I may have some benefit from you in the Lord; refresh my heart in Christ. Confident of your obedience, I write to you, knowing that you will do even more than I ask.
And one thing more: Prepare a guest room for me, because I hope to be restored to you in answer to your prayers.
Epaphras, my fellow prisoner in Christ Jesus, sends you greetings. And so do Mark, Aristarchus, Demas and Luke, my fellow workers.
The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit."
Philemon (1-25) NIV
It is a short book, a brief letter from Paul to his friend and fellow worker Philemon in Colossae. So how does it speak to me? How does it help me when I am struggling to do the right thing? Look at the three main characters. You have Paul, writing from prison to his friend, and fellow Christian worker Philemon, likely a leader in the church at Colossae. The third character is Onesimus. A former slave from Colossae. Philemon's slave, who ran away. So what does it have to do with me? Where am I in the story? That is the question I have to ask. What Character In Philemon Am I? WCIPAI?
Am I Paul? Am I out there sharing the good news with the lost, even in my low point (prison in his case)? Do I offer myself as Christ did to pay the debt of my neighbors, my enemies?
Am I Philemon? Do I forgive those who trespass against me? Do I do the right thing by God, even when it seems to directly contradict what the right thing by the world, or the secular law is telling me?
Am I Onesimus? Am I out there answering the call and entering into the urgency that is the ministry that God calls me to, even when that means risk, perhaps even my livelihood, or even my life?
Onesimus has committed a crime. The penalty for his crime is death. He is a runaway slave and faces the death penalty if caught. Some would say his crime isn't a crime. Slavery is wrong and therefore his "crime" isn't really a crime...every justify sin the same way? Oh, this or that isn't really a sin, I'm not doing anything wrong and therefore I don't face the death penalty cause my action isn't really sinful. More importantly though, Onesimus is now being asked to return to Colossae (carrying this letter and also a letter to the Colossians, both of which will become part of the New Testament scripture) and face that death penalty. What do I face to do the will of God each day? Am I willing to face it?
Philemon has been wronged. He is being asked to forgive. He is being asked not only to forgive Onesimus for his actions, but also to forgo the penalty. Forgive the debt owed (A LIFE) for the crime committed. Doesn't sound terribly difficult but he is being asked to do it as a leader in a community where the community will view his action (forgiving a runaway slave and not only that, accepting him back as his equal and fellow worker) would be taken as socially revolutionary, even dangerous. Peer pressure would be strong against Philemon to do the right thing by Colossae and not by God. Philemon's prestige, his reputation are at risk. What will he do? What would I do?
Finally there is Paul. He is in prison and meets up with a lost soul in Onesimus and shares the good news with him. Onesimus, despite all the wrongs he's done, is saved by the grace of God through faith in the redeemer, Jesus the Messiah. Paul is in prison, his journey of faith has landed him in the pit that is prison and yet he sees opportunity even here! And then he takes it a step further. He offers his own life in place of Onesimus' life. He tells Philemon that he, Paul, would pay the debt owed by Onesimus, which we know is death. He offers to do just as Christ did for us upon the Cross, paying our debt in full. Am I ever like this at all? Do I see despair as opportunity? Do I offer myself in place of my neighbor? In place of my enemy?
WCIPAI? I start each day asking this question. Which Character In Philemon Am I going to be today? I then pray to God that he will give me the strength and courage to be all three when called upon to do so.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Perplexed In the Pew (More Pew Poetry)
I got up late that morning, hit snooze once too often,
I didn't heed the warning, the loud buzz I had to soften.
So I rushed through my routine, showered, shaved, and dressed,
Skipped the usual caffiene, no time, and I was already stressed.
My cheeks settled into a pew, as the pastor spoke the invocation,
The service sailed on through, then came time for my donation.
Had I arisen early, and taken the proper care,
In my pocket most surely, an offering would be there.
But alas in my haste, the offering was left in my till,
I had not even placed, in my wallet a single bill.
I looked around my seat, could I borrow from a friend?
But wanting to be discreet, I couldn't ask them to lend.
The collection plate was coming, what was I to do?
Hand in pocket simply thumbing, a DIME, no its TWO!
Two coins o so tiny, would they be enough?
dingy, not new and shiny, still God would not rebuff.
So into the plate they clinked, pastor's eyes caught mine and tensed,
I could tell by the way he blinked, he had seen my mere 20 cents.
OH of all the days, for my morning routine to have been breached,
I could feel the pastor's gaze, on stewardship he had just preached!
I didn't heed the warning, the loud buzz I had to soften.
So I rushed through my routine, showered, shaved, and dressed,
Skipped the usual caffiene, no time, and I was already stressed.
My cheeks settled into a pew, as the pastor spoke the invocation,
The service sailed on through, then came time for my donation.
Had I arisen early, and taken the proper care,
In my pocket most surely, an offering would be there.
But alas in my haste, the offering was left in my till,
I had not even placed, in my wallet a single bill.
I looked around my seat, could I borrow from a friend?
But wanting to be discreet, I couldn't ask them to lend.
The collection plate was coming, what was I to do?
Hand in pocket simply thumbing, a DIME, no its TWO!
Two coins o so tiny, would they be enough?
dingy, not new and shiny, still God would not rebuff.
So into the plate they clinked, pastor's eyes caught mine and tensed,
I could tell by the way he blinked, he had seen my mere 20 cents.
OH of all the days, for my morning routine to have been breached,
I could feel the pastor's gaze, on stewardship he had just preached!
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Reflecting on 5 Years of Fatherhood
This week marks the fifth anniversary of my becoming a father. It offers a chance to pause and reflect on the past five years, the ups and downs, joys and sorrows, triumphs and failures, that have occurred along the journey of fatherhood. The following are but a few lessons learned along the way:
1) Give a timeout, TAKE a timeout ~ timeout is an effective disciplinary tool. It is also an excellent way to maintain parental discipline. Don't punish in the "heat" of the moment as your anger may make you "overreact" give the timeout and take one yourself. Pause and settle down for a few minutes. THEN, and ONLY THEN, talk to your child about what they did wrong, how to correct that behavior in the future and that you love and forgive them. Its all about give and take, so give one and take one simultaneously.
2) There is NOT a single event, tv show, book, magazine, phone call, household chore, or other preoccupation that is MORE important than interacting with my boys.
3) I need to remind myself every morning that my boys are going to eventually leave home with what I LIVED OUT in that home, not what I said and didn't do myself.
4) Protection can lead to suffocation, whilst exposure can lead to edification. Sometimes you have to let go a little and let them fall down.
5) I love you is something my boys can never hear enough, and I will never grow tired of hearing it from them either.
6) Know your role. Mom always seems to get top billing for the boys. She is the star. Dads are like character actors, we often get supporting roles. For some dads, that can be humbling, discouraging, even upsetting. They key to remember is that even if you only get a few lines and mom seems to be in every scene, NEVER miss your cue or be too busy to say your few lines. The only way to get a bigger part is to NAIL every one of your scenes in the small parts you get. If my boys say "Daddy" instead of "Mommy" I better take advantage and show up!
1) Give a timeout, TAKE a timeout ~ timeout is an effective disciplinary tool. It is also an excellent way to maintain parental discipline. Don't punish in the "heat" of the moment as your anger may make you "overreact" give the timeout and take one yourself. Pause and settle down for a few minutes. THEN, and ONLY THEN, talk to your child about what they did wrong, how to correct that behavior in the future and that you love and forgive them. Its all about give and take, so give one and take one simultaneously.
2) There is NOT a single event, tv show, book, magazine, phone call, household chore, or other preoccupation that is MORE important than interacting with my boys.
3) I need to remind myself every morning that my boys are going to eventually leave home with what I LIVED OUT in that home, not what I said and didn't do myself.
4) Protection can lead to suffocation, whilst exposure can lead to edification. Sometimes you have to let go a little and let them fall down.
5) I love you is something my boys can never hear enough, and I will never grow tired of hearing it from them either.
6) Know your role. Mom always seems to get top billing for the boys. She is the star. Dads are like character actors, we often get supporting roles. For some dads, that can be humbling, discouraging, even upsetting. They key to remember is that even if you only get a few lines and mom seems to be in every scene, NEVER miss your cue or be too busy to say your few lines. The only way to get a bigger part is to NAIL every one of your scenes in the small parts you get. If my boys say "Daddy" instead of "Mommy" I better take advantage and show up!
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Corn Dogs on Chinese Night
It was Chinese cuisine for community group this past Saturday and we had plenty to choose from, I even offered my own version of a homemade Chinese dumpling (potsticker if you will) and we all ate great. Now there are many youngsters in our group so as an alternative, we had some Corn Dogs ready and they went over well with kids. So...can Corn Dogs be Chinese? I mean googling it basically tells us that the Corn Dog is American cuisine, invented here and almost exclusively found here. So my initial reaction would be nope, its not Chinese cuisine. But when you think about it, isn't it really a hot dog with bun attached served on a chopstick?
The rest of us all ate our Chinese food with that most western of culinary devices, the fork. It was Chinese night, why weren't we using chopsticks? So, in the end we ate Chinese food with American utensils and the kids ate American with Chinese utensils (the chopstick).
Isn't that the beauty of community? Everybody brings to the table their little bit and combined we enjoy a complete feast. This week will be Italian...which we all know is really just westernized Chinese food anyway...and we will all enjoy it.
The rest of us all ate our Chinese food with that most western of culinary devices, the fork. It was Chinese night, why weren't we using chopsticks? So, in the end we ate Chinese food with American utensils and the kids ate American with Chinese utensils (the chopstick).
Isn't that the beauty of community? Everybody brings to the table their little bit and combined we enjoy a complete feast. This week will be Italian...which we all know is really just westernized Chinese food anyway...and we will all enjoy it.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Five Years Ago Today
It was five years ago today, my eyes saw you for the first,
I touched your tiny hands, whilst you were being nursed,
From delicate to sturdy, you've grown by leaps and bounds,
Your mind ever expanding, now sentences instead of sounds.
You'll always be our little boy, no matter how big you grow,
You will always have our love, though that you surely know.
You are five today, and tomorrow you'll likely be fifty,
Oh that you could stay a boy, now wouldn't that be nifty.
Continue to love your mom, and we will cherish you,
We promise to equip, for all that God would have you do.
It is amazing how fast those five years have gone. At age 5, you have already seen us move from an apartment to a house, to a new city and state in another apartment and yet another new house. We hope now you are enjoying a little more stability of environment and continue to grow up to be all that God calls you to be. You are a special boy, just as your little brother is, and we all love you. We hope all of your remaining years are filled with the health and happiness you have enjoyed for the first 5. God Bless you little one. Happy Birthday.
I touched your tiny hands, whilst you were being nursed,
From delicate to sturdy, you've grown by leaps and bounds,
Your mind ever expanding, now sentences instead of sounds.
You'll always be our little boy, no matter how big you grow,
You will always have our love, though that you surely know.
You are five today, and tomorrow you'll likely be fifty,
Oh that you could stay a boy, now wouldn't that be nifty.
Continue to love your mom, and we will cherish you,
We promise to equip, for all that God would have you do.
It is amazing how fast those five years have gone. At age 5, you have already seen us move from an apartment to a house, to a new city and state in another apartment and yet another new house. We hope now you are enjoying a little more stability of environment and continue to grow up to be all that God calls you to be. You are a special boy, just as your little brother is, and we all love you. We hope all of your remaining years are filled with the health and happiness you have enjoyed for the first 5. God Bless you little one. Happy Birthday.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Waking Up With Wonder Woman
Tomorrow marks the 5th anniversary of the day I woke up with Wonder Woman. It was Tuesday, April 8th, 2003. Interestingly, thanks to there being two leap years since 2003, the 5th anniversary will fall on a Tuesday as well. The events that follow are as they happened, to the best of my recollection:
In the five years since that day, she has never ceased being Wonder Woman. She is amazing in every way as a wife, a mother, and as a fellow worker in the kingdom. We talked about that day last night as we drifted off to sleep and how exciting it was and she still remembers that multi-tasking morning fondly. She has since also delivered our 2nd son and we continue to raise them both.
What I've realized over the years is that I had never gone to bed with Diane Prince, she had always been Wonder Woman, it just took a major event like the birth of our son to open my eyes to the fact. I am no longer blind. I love my sister, my bride as my sons also love, honor, and cherish her. We thank God every day that He has blessed us with her and we ask Him now to continue to keep her in his care. She is a wonderful woman. She is our Wonder Woman.
It was in the 5 o'clock hour on a Tuesday morning in April. My wife and I were sleeping in our bed in our 3rd floor apartment in Dubuque, Iowa. As was often the case during the later half of her pregnancy, my wife had very little room left in her abdomen for organs like her bladder to fill to capacity, so she rose early to relieve some of that pressure. Usually she returned from those trips in the night to her side of the bed without stirring me, but this morning was different, she no longer was the "Diana Prince" I married, she had transformed into her alter-ego, "Princess Diana" aka "Wonder Woman." Wonder Woman woke me in the 5 o'clock hour that morning to inform me that her most recent trip to the bathroom had been rather unusual. I of course realized it had been unusual cause she left as one person and returned as another, but when your wife is in her ninth month of pregnancy, stating the obvious is never something a husband should do, so I asked her what she meant.
She described it like "going way too much and without having control." It seems her water had broke in the best of circumstances, as she sat on the one place in the house specifically designed to catch all that water. That is Wonder Woman for you, her water breaks and she leaves no mess, no sign of it at all. She called her doctor who asked her if she was in any pain, which she wasn't and he said he would meet us over at the maternity ward of the hospital later that morning but that we should head over asap. So my wife headed back to her bathroom to prepare and I packed up what we would need and hopped in the shower. We both emerged in the 6 o'clock hour at which time my wife informed me that she was still not in any pain, that she had even managed to shave her legs in the shower but she was still "leaking" a little so we might want to put a towel on the front car seat.
I started making a couple trips down the stairs from our 3rd floor apartment to our car to load our bags and prepare the front seat. After my second hike back up the 3 flights, I found my wife at the kitchen table, writing checks and sealing envelopes, we would need to stop on our way to the hospital it seems to pay a few bills. I was about to ask if she wanted me to run out to the 24-hour Wal-Mart and grab some paint so she could do a quick second coat on the nursery walls before we headed over to the hospital, but again, I had by then learned that my sarcasm was not well received by a pregnant woman, so I asked her if she was in pain, and she said she wasn't and we headed down the stairs. That is to say, I descended the stairs, I think she slid down the railings, but my memory is hazy as I was already exhausted from being woken early and already having climbed up our 3 flights of stairs twice.
In the 7 o'clock hour, we stopped off at the mailbox to pay our bills and headed out to the hospital. I had never parked in the parking garage there as we had always just "visited" the hospital so I ended up parking on the wrong deck and we entered the hospital on the bottom, staff only floor. We were quickly directed up an elevator to the correct floor and checked in at the desk. They got a wheel chair for Wonder Woman and made me walk, something I have always thought should have been reversed but that is hospital policy for you, and we went up another floor or two and down the hall to the maternity ward and right into the suite that would be our home for the next three days. It was finally at the hospital that she felt her first labor pain. We saw the doctor and started our process of walking the halls, massaging thru contractions, taking baths, and eventually Wonder Woman needed an epidural and she got it.
In the 7 o'clock PM hour, after twelve hours at the hospital and about 14 hours after her water broke, Wonder Woman gave birth to our first born son, Tristan. She would continue to suffer through a night of nausea and completely missed the German supper she had ordered (which still upsets her to this day), but she was Wonder Woman, and nothing could stop her.
In the five years since that day, she has never ceased being Wonder Woman. She is amazing in every way as a wife, a mother, and as a fellow worker in the kingdom. We talked about that day last night as we drifted off to sleep and how exciting it was and she still remembers that multi-tasking morning fondly. She has since also delivered our 2nd son and we continue to raise them both.
What I've realized over the years is that I had never gone to bed with Diane Prince, she had always been Wonder Woman, it just took a major event like the birth of our son to open my eyes to the fact. I am no longer blind. I love my sister, my bride as my sons also love, honor, and cherish her. We thank God every day that He has blessed us with her and we ask Him now to continue to keep her in his care. She is a wonderful woman. She is our Wonder Woman.
Sunday, April 6, 2008
Dipstick o' My Soul (Pt.2)
Ah tongue taming. The impossible task. The tongue, like a dipstick, reveals the condition of our heart. It reveals us a sinner. 1 John 1: 8 (NIV) states: "If we claim to be without sin" [that is, if the our dipstick attempts to read "holy"] "we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us." [deceptive tongue]
We can't claim to be what we are not. What is interesting here is that the text doesn't say our words deceive anyone else. They deception is only on ourselves, to make us think we are better than we are, it is a self-centered deception. So is there a cure? Can we tame our tongues? Back to 1 John.
1 John 2:1-6 (NIV) "My dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin. But if anybody does sin, we have one who speaks to the Father in our defense--Jesus Christ, the Righteous One. He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins the whole world. We know that we have come to know him if we obey his commands. The man who says, 'I know him,' but does not do what he commands is a liar, and the truth is not in him. But if anyone obeys his word, God's love is truly made complete in him. This is how we know we are in him: Whoever claims to live in him must walk as Jesus did."
Obedience is the key. Just as I cannot hope to be sinless of my own accord, I cannot hope to be completely obedient, but obedience is the key. I'm no mechanic when it comes to my vehicle, but I can check it out before taking it out on the open road. I can ensure that there is fuel, oil, and fluids, properly filled tires and functioning lights and signals. I can fix all those things when they are in need of repair, but I can identify the need and get it in the hands of one who is capable. In the case of my heart, I can do a similar check each morning. Where is my heart and to whom will I be obedient today, myself or my Lord and Savior? If there is a problem, to much self-centeredness, I can go in prayer each morning and ask for the mechanic--Jesus Christ, the Righteous One--to create in me a clean heart. The tongue linked to a heart made clean by Jesus is a dipstick that can correctly read "holy" and steer us on a course of obedience, and a life of service in the light.
I pray for all of us sinners that we may tame our tongues through obedient hearts made clean each day by the atoning sacrifice of Jesus the Messiah so that God's love may be made complete in each of us according to His will.
We can't claim to be what we are not. What is interesting here is that the text doesn't say our words deceive anyone else. They deception is only on ourselves, to make us think we are better than we are, it is a self-centered deception. So is there a cure? Can we tame our tongues? Back to 1 John.
1 John 2:1-6 (NIV) "My dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin. But if anybody does sin, we have one who speaks to the Father in our defense--Jesus Christ, the Righteous One. He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins the whole world. We know that we have come to know him if we obey his commands. The man who says, 'I know him,' but does not do what he commands is a liar, and the truth is not in him. But if anyone obeys his word, God's love is truly made complete in him. This is how we know we are in him: Whoever claims to live in him must walk as Jesus did."
Obedience is the key. Just as I cannot hope to be sinless of my own accord, I cannot hope to be completely obedient, but obedience is the key. I'm no mechanic when it comes to my vehicle, but I can check it out before taking it out on the open road. I can ensure that there is fuel, oil, and fluids, properly filled tires and functioning lights and signals. I can fix all those things when they are in need of repair, but I can identify the need and get it in the hands of one who is capable. In the case of my heart, I can do a similar check each morning. Where is my heart and to whom will I be obedient today, myself or my Lord and Savior? If there is a problem, to much self-centeredness, I can go in prayer each morning and ask for the mechanic--Jesus Christ, the Righteous One--to create in me a clean heart. The tongue linked to a heart made clean by Jesus is a dipstick that can correctly read "holy" and steer us on a course of obedience, and a life of service in the light.
I pray for all of us sinners that we may tame our tongues through obedient hearts made clean each day by the atoning sacrifice of Jesus the Messiah so that God's love may be made complete in each of us according to His will.
Friday, April 4, 2008
Sniglets for Churchgoers
I used to love Rich Hall's Sniglets. Those words that weren't found in the dictionary but should be! I've had this idea of creating some myself and googled Church Sniglets and sure enough, many others have had similar ideas themselves. Here are a few I've come up with.
Pewget Sound ~ What is politely referred to as "joyful noise" often eminating from my lips during hymns
Pewnitive Damages ~ What those seated directly in front of me suffer as I make my "Pewget Sounds"
Pewnic Wars ~ When you have more than one "Pewget Sound" maker in close proximity with each other
Pewranas ~ Those brothers and sisters in Christ whom we find sitting in our spot one morning, you know, that particular pew you have sat in every Sunday for 5 years running!
Pewpils ~ Those who bring notebooks to Church and take notes during the sermon (God love them!)
Organ Donors ~ Those that hit the right notes, even when the organist doesn't
Forbearers ~ Lutherans at Catholic weddings and funerals. The name derives from the fact that they always say the word "For..." aloud AFTER the congregation concludes the Lord's Prayer with "deliver us from evil"
Cutters ~ Those brothers and sisters in Christ who miraculously appear from the balcony in great numbers just as you think your row is ready to go up for communion. (They are often also known as members of the choir)
Bolters ~ Those brothers and sisters in Christ who miraculously disappear as we return to our pews after receiving Holy Communion. Where did they go?
Pulpit Fiction ~ Those little anecdotes that pastor shares that always seem to happen to them the same week as they are preaching on that topic.
Narwhals ~ Usually ushers, these are our brothers and sisters in Christ who worship standing in the narthex rather than in a pew.
Pewmas ~ Mothers with cat-like reflexes that manage to control squirmy toddlers throughout the entire service (God bless them!)
well, that's a few to start with anyhow
Pewget Sound ~ What is politely referred to as "joyful noise" often eminating from my lips during hymns
Pewnitive Damages ~ What those seated directly in front of me suffer as I make my "Pewget Sounds"
Pewnic Wars ~ When you have more than one "Pewget Sound" maker in close proximity with each other
Pewranas ~ Those brothers and sisters in Christ whom we find sitting in our spot one morning, you know, that particular pew you have sat in every Sunday for 5 years running!
Pewpils ~ Those who bring notebooks to Church and take notes during the sermon (God love them!)
Organ Donors ~ Those that hit the right notes, even when the organist doesn't
Forbearers ~ Lutherans at Catholic weddings and funerals. The name derives from the fact that they always say the word "For..." aloud AFTER the congregation concludes the Lord's Prayer with "deliver us from evil"
Cutters ~ Those brothers and sisters in Christ who miraculously appear from the balcony in great numbers just as you think your row is ready to go up for communion. (They are often also known as members of the choir)
Bolters ~ Those brothers and sisters in Christ who miraculously disappear as we return to our pews after receiving Holy Communion. Where did they go?
Pulpit Fiction ~ Those little anecdotes that pastor shares that always seem to happen to them the same week as they are preaching on that topic.
Narwhals ~ Usually ushers, these are our brothers and sisters in Christ who worship standing in the narthex rather than in a pew.
Pewmas ~ Mothers with cat-like reflexes that manage to control squirmy toddlers throughout the entire service (God bless them!)
well, that's a few to start with anyhow
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Beginning at the End
Ever wonder why universities call their graduations "commencements?" Why is it that the very last ceremony, the very last thing you do at college is called "the beginning?" To commence is to rise, to start, its an origin, not a conclusion.
This morning, some 40-odd men of my church, my community, reached the end of our year-long quest for authentic manhood through Men's Fraternity. We've met at 6am on Thursday mornings since last August and we reached our end this morning. We turned in our final exams (aka: manhood plans) and had our final session and discussion and all that remains is graduation. But as we sat there this morning, we all understood that notion of "commencement." That as we go thru our "graduation" ceremony next week it isn't so much about being at the end, but really it is about commencing with our authentic manhoods, with a plan, a map as to where we intend to go. The year long journey wasn't about finding the end, crossing a finish line, winning a race, but rather was about finding an authentic beginning, preparing for the start, conditioning for the journey that lies ahead of us. I think most of us are prepared to begin afresh as authentic men of God. Men who reject passivity, accept responsibility, lead courageously and seek the greater reward that only God provides.
I am ready. My brothers are ready. Let the journey begin and we all look forward to getting back together in the fall for another year of building each other up and hopefully doubling or tripling the number of men we get to join us. Let authentic manhood commence. Let my life be what I do, not what happens to me.
I pray God will equip and bless all of my brothers as they begin their journeys with plan in hand.
Just as David charged Solomon, we are all charged to "be strong, show [ourselves as men] and observe what the LORD [our] God requires: Walk in his ways...so that [we] may prosper in all [we] do and wherever [we] go" ~ 1 Kings 2:2-3 (NIV)
This morning, some 40-odd men of my church, my community, reached the end of our year-long quest for authentic manhood through Men's Fraternity. We've met at 6am on Thursday mornings since last August and we reached our end this morning. We turned in our final exams (aka: manhood plans) and had our final session and discussion and all that remains is graduation. But as we sat there this morning, we all understood that notion of "commencement." That as we go thru our "graduation" ceremony next week it isn't so much about being at the end, but really it is about commencing with our authentic manhoods, with a plan, a map as to where we intend to go. The year long journey wasn't about finding the end, crossing a finish line, winning a race, but rather was about finding an authentic beginning, preparing for the start, conditioning for the journey that lies ahead of us. I think most of us are prepared to begin afresh as authentic men of God. Men who reject passivity, accept responsibility, lead courageously and seek the greater reward that only God provides.
I am ready. My brothers are ready. Let the journey begin and we all look forward to getting back together in the fall for another year of building each other up and hopefully doubling or tripling the number of men we get to join us. Let authentic manhood commence. Let my life be what I do, not what happens to me.
I pray God will equip and bless all of my brothers as they begin their journeys with plan in hand.
Just as David charged Solomon, we are all charged to "be strong, show [ourselves as men] and observe what the LORD [our] God requires: Walk in his ways...so that [we] may prosper in all [we] do and wherever [we] go" ~ 1 Kings 2:2-3 (NIV)
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
If I Were King of the FoRRRRRRRRRRest!
Oh that Cowardly Lion. I just love hearing Bert Lahr rolling those "Rrrr's" in the Wizard of Oz. But if we look back at the story, you realize that each of the four main characters already had what they thought they lacked. As individuals, they might never have found this out, but as a collective group focused on completing a mission, they bring out the best in each other and are soon using the very gifts they thought they lacked without even realizing it.
The Body of Christ can be like that at times. Oh, as Christians, many of us have the heart and soul of a lion, but lack the courage to BE a lion. We can do all things through him who gives us strength but when the time comes to actually apply some of that strength, we resist, we remain passive, we fail to seize opportunities to spread the Word or serve our neighbors. We at times can be like a scarecrow, or tin man, or cowardly lion in our faith lives and yet, when we come together...something changes. Where alone I might have chosen the easier path, together WE seem to build each other up and often collectively choose a more difficult one. We exercise our collective faith with a tremendous strength and servant heart and we get things done. We all know who the real King is, but sometimes we need to come together and encourage each other to remind ourselves of just what that King has empowered us to do.
I am a Christian. I am saved by grace through faith. Hear me ROAR!
The Body of Christ can be like that at times. Oh, as Christians, many of us have the heart and soul of a lion, but lack the courage to BE a lion. We can do all things through him who gives us strength but when the time comes to actually apply some of that strength, we resist, we remain passive, we fail to seize opportunities to spread the Word or serve our neighbors. We at times can be like a scarecrow, or tin man, or cowardly lion in our faith lives and yet, when we come together...something changes. Where alone I might have chosen the easier path, together WE seem to build each other up and often collectively choose a more difficult one. We exercise our collective faith with a tremendous strength and servant heart and we get things done. We all know who the real King is, but sometimes we need to come together and encourage each other to remind ourselves of just what that King has empowered us to do.
I am a Christian. I am saved by grace through faith. Hear me ROAR!
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Family Night
This last Friday was family night at the Y and we took the boys for swimming and snacks. It still amazes how fearless they are in the pool. My own mom is deftly afraid of the water. She lived very near the Fox River in Illinois growing up and had to cross it every day to get to and from school. Her own parents instilled her with a fear of the water as a safety mechanism (she'll stay away from the dangerous flowing water if she is afraid of it so no need to worry about her drowning). She took it upon herself though to avoid passing this trait on to her own children. We lived near a lake and she got us all in swimming lessons at young ages and even, though she was nearly paralyzed by her fears, managed to go into that water with us and even help teach us how to put our faces in the water and blow bubbles (something she admits to this day was extremely traumatic to her). Her efforts paid off of course and all her children love water and water sports and now her grandchildren are growing up fearless of water.
Of course, I'm much like my grandmother. I worry about them venturing into the deep end with that courage and not having the skills to back it up. I wonder why my older son doesn't want me within an arms length of him in water over his head? I think, maybe my grandma was right and maybe I should instill some fear into these fearless boys? It is amazing how things come full circle. My grandma worried about my mom and made her fear water so she would stay away from the dangerous river. My mother took the opposite tack and struggled to pretend not to be afraid to instill us with confidence and comfort in and around water so that we might enjoy it, albeit safely. Now, here I am and I see these little boys so completely fearless that I think they need some fear to keep them safe. It really was "Family Night" as my wife, my sons and I were joined in that pool, not only by all the other families present, but also by thoughts of my mom and grandmother and their dealings with water and fear. Which example do I follow? I see the benefits and risks of each example set, but unlike Timothy, who got that consistent modeling of faith from his grandmother, and his mother (see 2 Timothy 1:5) I am left torn.
Mom, got it right. She endured a lot to right the wrong her mother passed to her and I can't see myself resorting to my grandmother's tactics. I'll just keep them going in their swimming lessons so that that fearless courage in and around water develops along with a sense of responsibility and safety. Keep swimming boys.
Of course, I'm much like my grandmother. I worry about them venturing into the deep end with that courage and not having the skills to back it up. I wonder why my older son doesn't want me within an arms length of him in water over his head? I think, maybe my grandma was right and maybe I should instill some fear into these fearless boys? It is amazing how things come full circle. My grandma worried about my mom and made her fear water so she would stay away from the dangerous river. My mother took the opposite tack and struggled to pretend not to be afraid to instill us with confidence and comfort in and around water so that we might enjoy it, albeit safely. Now, here I am and I see these little boys so completely fearless that I think they need some fear to keep them safe. It really was "Family Night" as my wife, my sons and I were joined in that pool, not only by all the other families present, but also by thoughts of my mom and grandmother and their dealings with water and fear. Which example do I follow? I see the benefits and risks of each example set, but unlike Timothy, who got that consistent modeling of faith from his grandmother, and his mother (see 2 Timothy 1:5) I am left torn.
Mom, got it right. She endured a lot to right the wrong her mother passed to her and I can't see myself resorting to my grandmother's tactics. I'll just keep them going in their swimming lessons so that that fearless courage in and around water develops along with a sense of responsibility and safety. Keep swimming boys.
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