Homecoming

Yesterday I got to experience what is great about living in a small town. A friend's son has been serving in the Air Force and yesterday he returned to Ohio from Afghanistan. Millersport turned out with flags and banners,they gave him a police and fire truck escort, and all of the school kids came out of the school and lined the street to thank Garrett for his service. When he saw the crowd, they stopped the car and Garrett got out and greeted all the kids. It was a wonderful homecoming for a local hero, and, to me, this represented the best of small-town life - that here in the small town, we can all stop and honor someone who made a sacrifice for our freedom.

Latest Adventure

I didn't post much about our most recent adventure in foster parenting because I didn't think it would be prudent; first of all, the birth family could read about the boys or see their picture and figure out where they were, and secondly, because it was tough going (and I didn't end up blogging much during those four months partially because of that).  It was tough having four boys, age 6 and under, especially with what J&N had suffered through before they came to our house.

I learned a lot about myself, about others, about spiritual warfare, and about the "system" in the process.

About myself... in Brother Lawrence's The Practice of the Presence of God, he expresses surprise not in the fact that humans can be so horrendously evil, but in the fact that we're often not.  During the last four months, I came to understand how (often foster) parents can do horrible things.  Not that I ever condone doing evil to a child (or anyone else), but I began to understand how someone could.  But there were many times when I was stretched way too thin.  I was glad to have my "out" - running - where I could get away and reorient myself toward God.

I already knew that there are people who understand "different" kids and people who don't, but I didn't know how much that would show up.  There were some people who I frankly didn't know very well who stepped up tremendously to help out with the boys, especially during church.  Church was a difficult time, because for a while the nursery was not staffed during the early service, (and since both boys have attachment issues, we felt that it was important to keep them with us)... so the boys were in worship... not a big deal, as we always keep our other two in that service... except that J&N had never experienced church before.  Or positive discipline.  Or sitting still.  And so they screamed through the first few services.  Some people just got annoyed and complained.

But there were several others who stepped up and helped.  Tremendously.  They were awesome.

I learned more about spiritual warfare than I ever thought possible, and I'm still learning.  These boys were victims of generational curses - something they never chose for themselves.  Their parents, grandparents - who knows how many generations - were filled with the evil they had inherited and they had chosen.  When J&N first came into our house, they were saturated with those curses. They were tortured little boys.  Happily, and thanks to a lot of prayer, when they left our house, though they still have issues, they were no longer the same tortured little boys.

I was reminded of the system, which doesn't necessarily exist to do the best thing; it sometimes exists to do the cheap thing or the expedient thing.  This isn't a slam on the case workers; I've found that the social workers are one of two things: they are either so jaded and cynical that you wonder why they're still in it; or they're idealistic people who want to help... and they're buried alive with too many cases for one person to adequately handle.  Unfortunately it ends up that lies, misinformation, and lack of communication are the order of the day.

I understand that God calls His people to care for orphans and widows, but with my experience (and the experience I've watched others go through), it does take a special calling to be a foster parent.  It's definitely not for everyone.  If God is calling you to do it, then do it with gusto.  But if God is not calling you to it (and be sure to discern the difference; don't just say God isn't if you haven't taken time to listen), then find other ways to care for the orphan and widow in your community.

Hard

God never told us life would be easy.  In fact, Jesus said, "In this world you will have trouble." (John 16:33b) But The LORD is good, a refuge in times of trouble. He cares for those who trust in him. (Nahum 1:7). This is why Jesus went on (in John 16:33) to say "But take heart! I have overcome the world."

Life is hard.  But God is good.

Remember

 Do you remember the “good ole’ days”? Unless you’ve been living a blues song, you probably do (and maybe even then).  Many people can identify those times that “were the best days of our lives.” How about you?  When were those best days? I remember being a teenager, being told “enjoy these days; they are the best days of your life,” and I always found that rather depressing.  If those days were the best ones, why live out the rest?

I’ve met many parents who absolutely loved some previous stage of their children’s lives; they loved the tiny baby in arms or they loved the loving toddler.  Some just loved the adventurous preteen or the active teenager. 

Then there were all of the wonderful moments in our lives – I know plenty of people who would love nothing more than to go back in time and relive various memories, especially to relive special times with loved ones who have since passed away. 

The Bible tells us to remember.  The book of Deuteronomy is full of the word “remember.” God continually reminds His people what He has done.  Why does He do that? He gives us a memory on purpose.  He wants us to look back and to see where He has been at work in our lives, especially where He has delivered us.  In Deuteronomy, He reminds His people how He brought them out of Egypt miraculously, how He fed them and took care of them, how He drove out their enemies before them. 

Unfortunately God’s people often got caught up in their memories and looked back nostalgically to places and times gone by.  They got so wrapped up in the memories, their version of what happened, that they could hardly face the present, let alone the future. They constantly grumbled that they wanted to go back to Egypt (where they were enslaved), and because of their obsession with their twisted memories, they couldn’t accept the present, let alone the future.  They couldn’t understand or accept how God was working, providing for their every need.

They missed out on the reason for these memories: to encourage us in the days to come.  Not to repeat the days in the past, as good (or bad!) as they might have been.  When we look back and see how God has worked in the past, we are empowered to live today (and tomorrow) in full trust and to use our memories to encourage others!

Hard Time Blogging

I've had a hard time blogging recently because much of my time has been consumed with other things.  I believe in blogging, and it's a good outlet for me - somewhere to put my thoughts on "paper" - but especially with the Bible reading challenge, that time just isn't as plentiful.

Plus, since January, I've been making an attempt to write in my actual journal as I read the Scriptures.  I've enjoyed doing that as a spiritual discipline in the past, but lately I'd gotten away from it.  But the side effect of writing in my journal regularly and of reading scripture for well over an hour each day is that the blog gets a little less attention.

Thanks for continuing reading!

Learning Something New

I love getting exercise (no surprise to you if you know me), and I find running therapeutic.  Honestly, when I go running, it's usually because I need to.  Partly because I've become an endorphin junkie, partly because it's my quiet time with God, partly because it's the only time when I have the patience to listen to sermons, and partly because of the physical challenge, but I need my runs.

As we've been blasted with snow lately, running just hasn't been my preferred option.  Sure, I could run, and some of my colleagues don't let a foot of snow keep them from running outside, but I'm just not into wet feet and slipping and sliding (and the potential for injury).  So I've been trying cross country skiing.

Though I've done it a few times before, it's really something new for me.  I had to figure out how to dress for it (hint: treat it like a run; otherwise, I'll overheat immediately!); I had to figure out where to go (there are some very nice trails nearby, but getting there is the issue), and I had to figure out how far is a decent workout.  But even more important than those has been this: I'm figuring out what motions are best.  I found that if I pick up the skis (in a running motion), I can go a little faster in the short term, but it has been causing a snow build-up on the underside of the skis, which, in turn, slows me down when I try to slide the skis (even downhill). So I have to learn how to move most efficiently.

This is something that carries over to all of life.  Whether we like it or not (or recognize it or not), things are changing.  If nothing else, every day we're all one day older.  Technology is changing things faster than ever. And life and ministry requires us to develop new strategies.  Sometimes what seemed to work before doesn't really work anymore, and what seemed most efficient isn't anymore.  Sometimes making assumptions (like I, who assumed that a running motion would be faster on the skis) just leaves us bogged down.

This is especially true for the church, who sometimes gets bogged down in "the way we've always done it."  I'm not talking about church tradition (United Methodists base our belief primarily in the Bible, but we acknowledge that we interpret the scriptures largely through our reason, experience, and tradition); tradition is rich and beautiful and helps connect us with years of Christians who have gone before us, and tradition helps us from making the same mistakes made by those who went before us.  I'm talking about an "this is how we've always done it" attitude. 

What are some methods that might need updating in your life?

The Decade that Was: A Retrospective

Now that it's a good solid week into 2010, I thought I'd write up a brief retrospective of the past 10 years.

2001: I was in my last year of seminary at Asbury, living in Nicholasville, KY, running a 3 mile loop pretty much daily with Nate and Scooter.  I got a job offer in Ohio, so after graduation, I became the Associate/Youth Pastor at Stonybrook UMC.

Life changed pretty quickly with two events in 2001: the death of Troy Simpson, a young man I'd just gotten to know, but who was good friends with pretty much everyone I was friends with in Gahanna.  I'll never forget his funeral... mostly because it took place on September 11.

2002: Work. That seems like all I did.  60 hours per week usually. I played bass in the praise band at church, and I started guitar lessons.  Tara got her Master's Degree at Ohio State, and I got to play (guitar) in her recital.

2003: Another year of tons of work with little respite, but this year we got to go a couple of neat trips.  We went to England to see my brother, and that was a wonderful trip.  After we got back, we got to see the Grand Canyon when we were in Arizona for a conference.

2004: Life changed forever as we welcomed Jonathan to the world!  I don't like any pictures of me from this time period because I gained a lot of baby weight (and stress weight).  I didn't get any time off for the baby, and that added to the stressful life. That summer we got a new senior pastor at Stonybrook, who we were really looking forward to.  My biggest accomplishment at church was starting youth ministry small groups.

2005: This year we figured out that the senior pastor and I didn't see eye-to-eye.  After a surprise call from the district superintendent, I found out that we were moving from Gahanna.  I learned a lot about both obedience and betrayal this year. This summer we moved from Gahanna to New Knoxville, Ohio. Once again, I was involved in high school soccer, as I volunteered with the team.

2006: Right at the beginning of the year, Tara blew out her knee.  But she had surgery and rehabbed it fast enough to go backpacking in the Grand Canyon in May!  What an awesome trip. This summer at Vacation Bible School, I joined with the pastor of the "other" church in town to do some improv skits.  This morphed into a deep friendship with "PD" in which we would routinely get together and share and pray for one another.  One of the highlights of New Knoxville life was this friendship and the fellowship between our churches.  It was hard being "on my own" in ministry, so it was great to have someone to share with.  In the Fall, I officially became a marathon runner, when I ran the Columbus Marathon. It honestly was a lot of fun.  Until the 19 mile mark. Finish time: 4:26.  But more important than all of that was that this year in August, Andrew was born! 

2007: After having custody of Andrew for six months, we got to adopt him!  So he officially joined our family this year.  I joined an accountability group of fellow pastors, which was ministry-wise one of the best experiences I've had.  I ran another marathon, this time in Louisville (finish time: 4:17).  This was fun until the last couple of miles, and after the marathon, I felt horrible.

2008: We moved again - this time to Millersport, Ohio.  I was so excited to move to Millersport; we already had friends here, and it was close to Columbus. It was a lot of work to move, and even more work on the new house, but it's exciting to be working on a (church staff) team instead of alone.  Jonathan started preschool this year, and he loved it.  He also started piano lessons!

2009: This spring, Jonathan started on a soccer team, and he continued his piano lessons (even had his first recital).  Andrew started preschool in the fall (and was the first to catch his teacher's fish).  We welcomed Baby Jason into our family for 4 months (August 10-December 8) and got a chance to love him.

Now it's 2010... who knows what this year holds for us?!

Looking Out For Pedestrians

When I was in drivers' ed, I remember how our teacher stressed to us, as new drivers, that when we are beginning to enter an intersection, we aren't to do so until we've looked both ways (twice).  The most important part of looking both ways was (obviously) to look for cars, but part of looking both ways was to look for pedestrians.

I've noticed that people don't walk as much these days, and maybe this is what contributes to the following: I've noticed that drivers often don't look for pedestrians.  I've noticed this as a runner (where I'm always vigilant when crossing streets or driveways), but I've noticed it even more as a father, walking with my boys.  Drivers just aren't on the lookout for pedestrians.

It's important (as a pedestrian) that I look out for drivers who aren't looking out for me.  But it's a reminder that it's extremely important as a driver to look out for pedestrians, even when you don't often see people walking around town.

I was thinking about this on my run last night (after a passenger had to alert a driver of my presence).

Sometimes we get to areas in our lives where we haven't been tempted in some area for a long time.  Maybe you used to struggle in some area and you knew you had to remain vigilant all the time, but those struggles haven't surfaced in a long time, and you've stopped looking out for them.  Like the alcoholic who used to stay away from bars because he knew he'd be tempted, but he hasn't had a drink in such a long time, so why not stop by the bar with his friends - after all, alcohol isn't a problem anymore, is it?  Or the married person who knows he or she will never have an affair, so even though they know they shouldn't be spending so much time alone with someone of the opposite sex, they think it could never happen to them, and they lose their vigilance.

The lesson is that we need to remain vigilant.  Even (especially) in areas where we think we're in the clear.  Take an extra look for pedestrians today.

Singing God's Praises

This morning I woke up early enough to feed the baby and to go for a run before I needed to be at the church to prepare for worship. It was a fantastic morning for a run - 43 degrees (cold enough to wear tights & gloves, warm enough to not feel frozen) - and the sun was just beginning to rise.  As it hovered just below the horizon, the sky began to change color, first subtly, then dramatically.

I was listening to praise music on my iPod: Robby Seay Band, to be specific, and the song Beautiful Scandalous Night.

I have to admit that I'm already very much in the swing of Christmas preparation - my prayer has been that Christmas will be a fantastic time of worship, of celebrating Jesus' birthday, both for me and for my church.

But the very thought of Jesus willingly giving his life on the cross, in the context of His birth in the manger, when in the beautiful colors of the morning, the rising sun in the background...

...it was almost overwhelming.

I am continuing to worship God and to sing His praises - O for 1000 tongues to sing my great redeemer's praise!  Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty!!

Alone

Isn't this one of our biggest fears?  To be alone?  It's one of the things I have heard people talk about as they prepare for the inevitable; I just don't want to be alone. Maybe you know someone whose one wish is to not get "stuck" in a nursing home - alone.  I know that our church has several elderly people who are shut-in, and one of their sorrows is that they often feel like the church has forgotten them.  We are working to reverse this trend, but it's a real issue. This is a struggle for me as the pastor as well.  Pastors are already stretched to wear many hats; we wear some of them well and struggle with others. I received word (second-hand) that I didn't care about someone in a congregation I've served (because I didn't visit them enough).  The truth is that due to the size of the congregation, I myself cannot personally care for everyone like God does (and to be fair, I had visited them multiple times).  I've chewed on that word for a while, however, and this is one of the reasons why I am hoping our visitation team succeeds; that they remake (or build new) connections with those who are shut-in.

I wrote an article for our newsletter about loneliness and focused on these elderly (and mentioned our visitation team) and I got an e-mail from someone who isn't elderly but who is still lonely.  She is an active participant in our church, but she's had a hard time - in spite of being active, she is still all alone.

We did implement (bring back?) a "meet and greet" time in our morning worship services, and one complaint I heard was "we already greet each other; why do we have to have this greeting time?" But the unfortunate thing is that lonely people often aren't greeted in "informal" before-and-after service greeting times.  And then they are the worst kind of lonely: lonely in a crowd.

Being alone isn't by itself a bad thing - we should always take the time to be alone.  Even Jesus did this regularly. But all of us (even introverts) were made for relationship (as an aside, this is partially why Trinitarian theology is important - God is always a relational God, Father, Son, and Spirit, sacrificially loving one another).

There is a balance, because each of us can only be fully engaged in relationship with so many people.  I read a blog post last week and an article today that say that we can only be friends with 150 people (Dunbar's Number - popularized by Malcolm Gladwell, who we saw at Catalyst, in his book, The Tipping Point).  When we try to stretch this, it just doesn't work.

This has a big effect on church - there will be people who are on the fringes (for various reasons) - and part of the challenge is to integrate them into the regular life of the church.  So they won't stay alone.  Certainly there are some who come in and want to remain on the fringes; they want to come in  and check things out with no commitment (you see this a lot in large churches - you can't "hide" in a small church), but for most, it's difficult to be noticed and accepted.

And then, in the community in which they should be most loved and accepted, they end up alone.


My sister once lamented the reality of having to "break into" a church.  No, she's not a criminal (though her brother's nom de plume is "the Thief). Her point was that it's often difficult for someone who is new to a church to establish themselves as gifted and available.  Her experience came in the drama group in a church she joined shortly after college; though she's always been an excellent thespian (I was going to say "drama queen" but I didn't want her to take it the wrong way), but she couldn't get a part in their church plays. 

Involvement is one of the cures for being alone in a church setting, but what happens when involvement is eschewed?

And what happens when groups reach their threshold?  Though Dunbar's Number is 150, there are groups in which the maximum is 10 or 12.  We believe that cell groups are this kind of group, and when they grow beyond the threshold, they need to birth a new group.  But other groups can reach their threshold: I was in a praise band and when we got new members, we had a hard time accommodating them.  You can only have so many guitars playing on stage at once.  The church where I was accommodated the larger numbers (a couple years later) by forming multiple bands, each of which would play perhaps every third week.  I don't know how this works for practice - would all groups practice together?  Would they practice separately?  What about space and time issues? Etc.  There are definite growing pains.

And churches, by our nature, are supposed to grow. And when we grow, we reach thresholds.  Some have addressed this issue by coming up with satellite, video, and internet campuses.  Others have added services to their existing locations.  Others have planted new congregations. But all of these require sacrifice and change, which are difficult, especially because we often develop close bonds with people with whom we have been praying and praising, whom we have been supporting and encouraging.

The truth is that Jesus promised that he would never leave us alone; the Holy Spirit is always with us.  But sometimes this world can seem empty and lonely.

Seasons of Life

Today as our church buries one of our own, I am reflecting on the seasons of life. We do not get to choose how we come into this world or (usually) how or when we exit; these are simply seasons of this life.

One dies, another is born.

One suffers, another celebrates.

In the midst of struggle, someone is victorious.

One of the strangest things to contemplate is how life goes on, unaffected. When a funeral falls on a sunny day... (I vividly remember the bright blue sky on the day of Troy Simpson's funeral, which turned out to be a horrific day in the life of our country - September 11, 2001). A wedding party takes pictures in a park, while businessmen rush by, needing to finish up Friday's work (on Saturday), oblivious to the celebration happening in front of them. A funeral procession comes by, and traffic stops (or doesn't stop) and drivers wonder, "Who was that? Maybe someone I knew?"

And life goes on.

If this world were all there was, I think I would be overwhelmed with grief. Life would be meaningless; even the greatest legacy we could leave would not be enough. But this world is not all there is, and for that I am grateful.

Exhausted

Sorry for a lack of posts here - I am beat. It is hard work having a baby in the house, even when the baby is wonderful. Waking up twice a night every night is no picnic, even when the wonderful little fella sucks his bottle right down and goes back to sleep.

Unfortunately this leads to mental exhaustion as well, and when it comes time to write something new, well, let's just say it doesn't come easily!

I've kept up the running, mostly because I want to do well Saturday in our local 5K, but I will just have to accept it if I don't do as well as I have been doing lately; some of my runs have been miserable!

Despite the level of exhaustion, I've been doing pretty well personally, and our family is grateful to have friends who have stepped up and helped out!

Rising Park: 100 year celebration

A few years ago, we had driven from New Knoxville to Lancaster for Tara's participation in the Lancaster Festival, and one day I took the boys to the park. It was a fantastic park (yes, New Knoxville's local park was a nice one, and it was within walking distance, which we loved), but Rising Park was fantastic.

It was only about 7 months before we were appointed to Millersport, and another 4 months before we moved, and we found ourselves frequently going to Rising Park. The first trip there (as area residents) was rather surreal - it felt like a dream.

Anyway, today they were celebrating 100 years of Rising Park, and of course, we were there.

The day started with a 5K run, which started on the hill, giving us a good, long downhill out of the park. This time I didn't go out with the sprinters, and I ended up having one person pass me the whole race. It was kind of lonely out on the course: two guys battled it out for 1-2, and there were four more who emerged as the "lead pack" and the rest of us kind of straggled out behind. It was a fun race and a very fast course, but the best part was having my family there to cheer for me (and Jonathan had this little "horn" he was blowing to cheer me on, and I just loved hearing it).

I finished in 21:05, but I figure the course was 1/100 mile long, so I might have managed to finish under 21 ;-)

After the awards (I won my age group), we headed around the park. There were inflatables for the kids to play on, and we were the first ones there, so they had free reign. Awesome.

Then we headed around the loop and found that they had tons of free stuff. Like free hot dogs (I know, I don't like hot dogs. But they were free, so I had two). Like free apples, bananas, candy, bottled water, apple/cinnamon or strawberry breakfast bars, and ice cream!

They had speeches, historical reenactments, and even a kids' fishing area.

It made for a fantastic morning with the kids, and sometimes I still wonder if it really is a dream.

A Difficulty with "Reality"

...TV that is... or social networking... or blogs...

In real reality, there are rules of etiquette that govern daily life. But in reality TV, those rules are thrown out.

In real life, when something "private" goes on, it stays private. A difficulty with this comes when something tragic, but private, happens, such as a miscarriage or finding out about an infidelity in the family.

When something like this happens, people often don't know about it and say something that seems rude, but they had no way of knowing.

Of course, on the other side of things is the attitude that seems all-too-common in blogs, on Facebook, and on reality TV.

What should have been private becomes public. This Jerry Springer method of dealing with private matters has simply caused gossip to go "big screen." And at least Jerry Springer had his "guests" (if you can call them that) confront one another.

Reality TV seems to always come with a camera on a participant, ready to record their private thoughts. Instead of filtering those thoughts through a trusted friend or confidant, the participant is encouraged to "unload" - often the most unpleasant things about other participants.

If you know me, you probably already knew that so-called "reality" TV is one of my frequent targets, but I'm not just picking on the wannabe-pseudo-celebrity in this post. As I point a finger their way, the other three fingers point back at us, the bloggers.

Would we say what we say about someone if we were saying it to their face instead of posting it (often pseudo-anonymously)?

Another Good-Bye

On the very first day of my very first seminary class, I met him. Many of my colleagues had told their various horror stories of seminary Greek - they waited as long as they could to take it, but being a contrarian by nature, I set out to take it first.

I entered the classroom and scanned the scene, and found the seat nearest the back left corner (by the chalkboard). The corner seat was already taken by a blonde guy with as big a head as I have. Maybe even bigger. His name was Chad Max Miller, and we became instant friends.

As Greek class went on, we found out that it was really pretty easy. Bordering on simple, actually. Especially if you had been a foreign language major in college. As Chad and I had both majored in German in college, we found that we were simply tasked with memorizing new word endings and vocabulary. Thus the back corner of this particular Greek class resembled the back of another classroom.

Chad and I were instant friends, not just because we were good at Greek. We had a lot more in common than that. We played pick-up soccer frequently - besides a couple of people I knew from being in class with, pretty much everyone I knew in seminary was someone I played sports with. Chad was no exception. We could always be found playing soccer together. He used to joke that when we started playing pick-up soccer, he was one of the best players, but by the time we graduated, he was one of the worst. And through that time, he had improved his game a lot! It was just that the level of competition went through the roof during our time there.

Chad was an intense guy. We lifted weights together in the seminary's (sad little) weight room - when the sewer backed up and flooded the (downstairs) weight room with raw sewage, Chad and I brought all the equipment upstairs and washed it thoroughly. We stuck a nametag on the door of the (old) weight room naming it "The Outhouse Basement." But here's a little picture of Chad's character: When the student life people tasked one of their employees to move the equipment back downstairs (and were paying her to do so), she came in and asked for some help doing it (there was no way she could do it on her own). We told her the situation and about the smell in the downstairs room, and the student life people decided not to go through with the move. But the woman who was moving it was unhappy: she was hoping for the extra money... to buy her medication. Chad asked her how much student life was going to pay her, and promptly gave her $40 out of his wallet. That was just Chad for you.

Anyway, I was going to tell you about his intensity, not his generosity. We would push each other hard in the weight room, always with the threat of shame if one of us would back down. It was all about honor and shame in the weight room.

One summer Chad and I worked for "Bob" - who was dismantling his house and reconstructing it. We were mostly in charge of taking the brickwork off, because "Bob" wanted to save the bricks (if he used new bricks, he would have had mismatched brickwork). It was ridiculously slow, but it was fun working with Chad. We started the first day wearing long pants and sleeves and so forth, but by the third day, we were wearing shorts and shoes and nothing else. I ended up so tanned that in my Asbury directory picture that next year, I just looked like a smile.

We would be up on the roof with Sir Mix-a-Lot blaring from the system in Chad's rockin' Hyundai or 80s music playing (he was shocked and awed by the speed at which I was able to identify a Ray Parker Junior song - not Ghostbusters), cracking on "The Colonel" who lived next door, laughing at Bob's son (who got fired that summer, yes, by his dad), and idolizing the "real" construction workers who came in and did the real work.

There are too many awesome stories about that summer to tell, but once Chad left a hammer on top of a ladder, and it fell right on my head. Another time I dumped a whole bunch of brick and mortar chunks off the scaffold on Chad. We were tasked with digging a basement under the house and given a jackhammer for the day: Bob told us we could have a steak dinner if we got down 6'. By the end of the day we'd gotten down 1 1/2 feet. Yeah, he had to get some of the real construction guys to do that job (with a backhoe and a Bobcat).

Like I said, too many stories to tell.

Chad took an unconventional path. He was one guy who I believed when he told me that God had spoken to him verbally. That was part of his conversion story. Chad was baptized on the day he graduated from seminary.Chad's seminary job: bartender at my (hands-down) favorite Lexington restaurant. The others in the restaurant knew him as "the missionary." Which was what he was.

Today I got the news that Chad and his brother, Christopher (who I really only knew from meeting him once - he came out for a visit and played soccer with us. He was really good - oh, and I knew him from his picture on Chad's fridge. I spent a lot of time in Chad's apartment) died in a kayak accident.

His church is honoring him tomorrow (Sunday) morning.

My heart is broken at the loss of a friend. I miss you, Chad. Godspeed. Say Hi to Mike Yaconelli for me. And give Jesus a hug. I'll be along in what - in the face of eternity - will seem like a twinkling.

Do Something New

There are always external pressures that cause us to change. The simple fact that each day we grow a day older is proof enough that change is inevitable, but that's not all. We do new things all the time, whether it's driving a new car (or starting to drive in the first place, which changes the equation dramatically) or bringing up children (where every day is something new).

There are plenty of changes we embrace (like getting a new toy), and some we slowly accept and then love (like the internet or Facebook for some).

There are other changes that are thrust upon us, like the changing of worship style in a church, which is often extremely controversial and painful, or even changing the color of the carpet in a worship center (which can be surprisingly controversial as well). Part of the difficulty of change, I believe, is not just that we have grown comfortable with the status quo, but that our "change muscles" have gotten tight for lack of use.

Physically, I have very tight muscles, and they have sometimes caused problems for me through my life (starting when I was a teenager). The doctors prescribed... stretching. So when I work out, I try to stretch my muscles well so that I am more flexible; a by product is that I am better at running (or whatever exercise I'm involved in) because I've stretched. Even (especially) when the stretching comes after the run.

I was wondering; what are we doing - of our own choosing - to stretch ourselves?

Many of us have "bucket lists": lists of things we want to do before we "kick the bucket" (and I'm not just talking about the lame "check off the ones you've done" list that's making its rounds on Facebook). For many of us, there are all sorts of things we'd love to do, but some of them don't seem in the realm of rational possibility.

But none of them will be possible at all if we don't stretch. Maybe it means we'll have to stretch and save money to do travel to a new and exciting place. Maybe it means concentrated effort to accomplish a new goal.

For me, I had a goal of running a marathon, and through a whole lot of effort, I accomplished it. Twice. I was wondering what might be next, and I started thinking about a triathlon (my brother said "Ironman" but I'm not thinking that big).

I've stretched myself in this way: I have signed up for a triathlon this weekend at the YMCA. It's not a huge one, it's indoors, and it's timed (10 minutes in the pool, 15 minutes on the bike, and 15 minutes on the treadmill).

It's going to be a stretch, but I'm excited!

David Bailey Update:

During the surgery, doctors found and removed a small malignancy. Please continue to pray for David.

David Bailey

This past Sunday, our church hosted David Bailey in concert. I was excited for the concert, as David has a remarkable testimony, and as I had been listening to some of his music in anticipation of the concert. He is a fantastic song writer - one of those guys who paints very real, tangible, accessible word pictures with his lyrics.

On Sunday morning, David brought the special music for church. While his songs were good, he looked about ready to collapse. He explained that he was just exhausted from his travels but that his left hand just wasn't working right (yeah, I know that a left hand never works like a right hand).

Anyway, at his concert, David's guitar was out of tune. Apparently, right before he went on, he told a couple people that he was having a really hard time hearing. I kept hearing one of the strings out of tune and it was pretty distracting to me. But on the other hand, his lyrics and his testimony were extremely powerful and moving, and one thing he said really stuck with me.

Even when you don't think what you're doing is good enough, God can use you
anyway.

This was true of his concert. I know he was disappointed in how he played; you could tell by his demeanor. But there were many in the audience who were really touched by God through him.

It turned out that he was battling a lot more than exhaustion; he scheduled an MRI for when he got home (Tuesday) and is in surgery today (Thursday) to remove a cyst that is causing pressure in his brain. So if you have a chance today, please lift up prayers for David Bailey.

Nobody's Talking...

...about high gas prices anymore. ...and this isn't even the lowest-priced station in the area (it's just the one that is on my walk to work).

(and, yes, that is a little bit of snow on the ground).

I've Got the Power!

Now it's for real. Power was restored to the Greater Millersport Metropolitan Area as of about 7:00 pm last night. Life as we know it has resumed!