Its Scary Out There at the Edge of the Reef

Pictured at right is my youngest daughter Heather, who, as you can easily see, is an accomplished snorkeling aficionado. As the Hawaiians would say, "Moko ini ale'a huna oli' na na snorkelini", which roughly translated means, "dat' white girl inna polka dot top is gonna drown sure, bro....". Or something like that. At least that what it sounds like right after one of these.

Anyway, last week we spent one of the most idyllic days of my life, and wouldn't you know it, God was right there with us. Right there, on the beach, in the water, all around us. We traveled to the north shore (windward side) of Kauai to Tunnels Beach , pictured below. I could not believe that we had the priviledge of spending even part of a day here. I am fairly confident that when I hit the shores of Paradise, the view will be very similar to this.

Our task this day was snorkeling, as we had heard that Tunnels was one of the best snorkeling spots in the islands. After we ventured into the shallows of the reefs and out to deeper waters, we soon found out that all the advice of both friends and tour books was right on. The underwater world we found was amazing, as you can see below; I am amazed at the infinite creativity of God in fashioning the world around us. The reef at Tunnels is a big one, and extends some 500 yards offshore. This is also a famous winter surfing spot, with some big waves, and also carries some infamy with it, as the spot where Bethany Hamilton was attacked by a shark and lost her arm. Bethany is one of Heather's biggest heros, and Heather has read her book at least two times through during the past year.

As we headed out, I noticed that Heather was more hesitant that her usual self. She wanted me close at hand as we swam through the reef, slowly making our way out to edge of the reef. After about 100 yards, there is a significant drop-off of the reef, from a depth of 10-15 feet to about 30-40 feet. When you head down at this point you can really feel the cold water at the reef thermocline.

If you are 11 years old, sleep in a warm bed in the suburbs of Southern California every night, and have read about girls age being attacked by sharks on just about this very spot, your mind gets to working overtime. Short version - its scary. So we held hands or swam real close together, and explored around for almost two hours, maybe longer. We saw lots of cool fish we had never seen before; big fish, little fish, amazing colors!

Now, as the thick-headed (and only) male in my family, this whole experience took me a while to sort out. Make that a couple of days. The metaphor that occurred to me is that this life we have been granted sometimes feels much like an 11-year old facing a big league reef for the first time. We are unsure, tentative, and often downright scared. That shallow water seems so much safer, maybe we will just stay in close to shore. Out there at the edge of the reef is where the Wild Things happen. But there are amazing things to do and see out there, its worth the journey out. If we are gonna head out there, better to have someone close at hand, Someone who gives us a sense of security.

It is good to know, we are definitely not alone. I have also found it interesting how two of my favorite people have been thinking the same thoughts along parallel lines, here and here.

Vacation Ruminations

Being far from home in an entirely different setting surrounded by those you love is causing me to reflect on the course of life, ponder the direction of things, and dwell on what really matters. Its as if our daily work-a-day life is performed in some sort of repetitive fog, and being away from that pattern can help the fog lift.

We experienced this just this past Sunday as we visited the famous Kalalau Valley, at the top of Waimea Canyon, on the west end of Kauai. The drive from the coast into the canyon is about 23 miles, but takes about 45 minutes to complete, as the road is very windy along the western edge of beautiful Waimea Canyon, dubbed by Mark Twain as the "Grand Canyon of the Pacific". We arrived at the end of the road, in the remote northwestern part of the island. In the past crews have tried to construct further roads here, only to literally abandon their equipment on hillsides and swamps, overwhelmed by the forces of nature. Soon, our family almost felt overwhelmed by nature as well.

As we arrived at the end of the road after the lengthy drive, we found ourselves in fog bank, with whisps of clouds floating over the parking lot. Now imagine this scene for a minute, my wife and I with two girls of 11 and 14 years in the car. Can you not just imagine their wonderfully cooperative and happy spirits after 45 minutes in the back seat of a Mustang Convertible? Might I just trust you to understand that their collective mood was somewhat less than optimal? Very well then.

As we approached the railing the view was stunning. Of clouds and more clouds, that is. Clouds in front of us, clouds behind us, over us, and around us. Normally in situations such as this, I am inclined to sigh deeply, or perhaps even emit a "harrumph!", and venture back to the car to head home. But for some reason, there was something calming about being there in the clouds. I didn't feel a need to leave immediately, nor did my wife. I thought outloud, perhaps if we just wait, the weather might change. And so, we waited. Five minutes turned to ten, and ten to almost twenty.

And then, within seconds, the clouds vaporized, and there before us was a glimpse of heaven, the striking Kalalua Valley, awash in late afternoon sun, all the way to the Na Pali coast. I snapped the photo above right at the moment the fog cleared.

Perhaps if we let Him, God might clear the fog in all of our lives. If we let Him. I wonder.

Charles Warren Stoddard has gone to the Sandwich Islands permanently. Lucky devil. It is the only supremely delightful place on earth. It does seem that the more advantages a body doesn't earn here, the more of them God throws at his head. This fellow's postal card has set the vision of those gracious islands before my mind again, with not a leaf withered, nor a rainbow vanished, nor a sun-flash missing from the waves, & now it will be months, I reckon, before I can drive it away again. It is beautiful company, but it makes one restless & dissatisfied.- Mark Twain's letter to W. D. Howells, 10/26/1881

The Exotic Isles - Past and Present, and 10 Things

Friday – Sunday – August 19-21

Greetings from our nation’s 50th State, the Land of Aloha. I ventured here several times as a child with my parents, but those vacations typically consisted of a view of the interior and pool area of the Hyatt, Marriott, or whatever, and not much ground level experience of life in the Islands. I also found this website, which celebrates the old Coco Palms Hotel on Kauai (note snazzy photo herein – that is NOT my wife and I) , which has been closed for more than a decade following the 1992 devastation of Hurricane Iniki. I learned about it while doing this, which is something I have always wanted to do.

This is a special time off for our family. Our girls are promoting from Middle School to High School and from Elementary to Middle School – both this fall. We felt it was time for a special vacation, one in which we can enjoy the gift of family and splurge a bit. So here we are 2,300 some-odd miles from home, and happy as clams.

Our family is big on exploring and experiencing new things. For instance, today we did this. I learned also today that Steve Case, the founder of AOL, purchased 17,000 acres of former sugar plantation land in eastern Kauai several years ago, and leases the land to various public and private uses. For a real estate guy, there is lots of interesting stuff to learn. We went tubing on his land today. From one Steve to another, thanks.

During some exploring and snorkeling downtime last night, our family together watched Because of Winn Dixie, based on the classic childrens’ book by Kate DiCamillo. This is a wonderful film, full of love, heartache, magic, and good moral themes that I can recommend to anyone. Outstanding film-making! India Opal, the girl who is the main character in the story, wants to learn 10 things about her mother, whom she has been separated from since she was small. In this theme, I thought I should post 10 things about myself for my readers (all 12 of you) to know about me (not necessarily in any particular order).

1. I am an only child, and intermittently shift from blaming all my weaknesses in life on this one fact, to attempting to just “get over it”.
2. My finding Christ at the age of 21, and meeting my wife at age 29, remain to this day the first and second greatest miracles of my life.
3. The birth of my daughters Kelly and Heather, in 1991 and 1994 respectively, are the third and fourth (not necessarily in that order) most wonderful things ever to happen to me.
4. Everything I like to eat best, is not good for me. In N’ Out Burger, Dove Bars, and chocolate brownies. I rest my case.
5. I fall half way between and introvert and extrovert in most personality tests. This can be hard to live with, just ask my wife. It is sort of like being socially pi-polar.
6. The last Democrat I voted for was Jimmy Carter.
7. The first Republican I voted for was Ronald Reagan. I have a story about his change of mind, which is partially informed by this.
8. The three people I respect most in the modern context are; Billy Graham, John Wooden, and George Bush.
9. I struggle daily with the story of the Rich Young Ruler. It feels like it is about me. Probably will for the rest of my days.
10. In my mind, the greatest moment in baseball was Kurt Gibson’s homer in the 1988 World Series. I thought I had died and gone to heaven.

There, 10 things. Up next, more on vacation.

Aloha!

Tomorrow morning our family leaves for 10 days in Hawaii. We are all very excited for the opportunity to play, rest, explore, eat (!), create family memories, and enjoy God's creation.

I will not be blogging for at least the next six days, as the first place we are staying only has dial-up access, and I need to get a non-blogging life! I think this is Devine Providence. I have my swim trunks and underwater digital camera housing. What else do I need? Oh yeah, toothpaste.

I might touch in here next weekend, but then again, you may never hear from us again - From "Take Another Road" - by Jimmy Buffet:

Take another road to a hiding place

Disappear without a trace

Take another road in another time

On another road in another time

Like a novel from the five and dime

Take another road in another time

One Really Bad Comparison

Alright. I have to admit something here. Take away my Good Christian Who Never Says Critical Things Sunday School Attendance Badge, but James Dobson makes me feel bipolar. While I am thankful for the emphasis on solid values of Focus on the Family (I have a friend who works there) and all the good this organization has done, there are some times when I could just scream at the dumb things Dr. Dobson says. Remember Sponge Bob?

Last week was one of those times. When I am the same age as Dr. Dobson, I hope I have enough sense to speak less and listen more.

Of Pounding and Straightening

More today on the "Genu Valgum Kid" (pictured at left) - lessons my daughter has taught me in character.

Yesterday we left off with Kelly's return from the hospital. She was told to keep all weight off her legs for the first week or so, and that meant a wheelchair to get around. The hospital has doped her up fairly well before she left, and so life was fairly pleasant; for about the next nine hours. And then it was, for a 12 year old, and for her family, pretty much H-E-Double Hockey Sticks.

Kelly woke up the next morning in the worst, most debilitating pain of her life. I have never seen her like that, and it was very hard to watch. I did the compassionate, mindless father thing that I often do, and showed little compassion. For this, I will always be sorry. I have a heart of stone sometimes. Bad genes, and a selfish and sinful heart. For the next week or so, we had to do just about everything for Kelly. Here was this strong, healthy, almost-teenager reduced to pretty much the state she had been in when she came into the world - dependent on us for everything. As she began to bear weight on her legs about a week later, it was very hard to watch. And in this, the Body of Christ was evident; our Fuller Seminary/house guest/family member/ordination candidate Jill was a godsend to us all. Friends brought movies by, care packages came in the mail.

Here we learned another lesson about the psychology of the orthopedic profession. Never tell the patient that the procedure they are about to go through will be so painful that they might wish they had never been born. And also don't tell the patient that you will have to cut through major muscle surrounding the knee in order to accomplish your medieval task of pounding staples into their bones in order to correct this odd malformation. And one more. Don't tell the full extent of the slow nature of the recovery process.

Recovery was slow. Slow as in continental drift. Physical therapy consisted of the very basics; attempting to stand and walk again, through the intense stiffness and pain of post-surgical healing. When asked, Kelly will tell you that the dealing with the pain was, "like learning to walk for the first time again". But Kelly persisted, she did not give up. In spite of the pain, even though she spent the first two weeks being pushed around school in a wheelchair. Even though she spent the next four weeks on crutches. She did not give up. She worked, went to therapy, continued in school, and developed character. Character like I have never seen, through a difficult journey for a 12 year old girl. And now, she wears on the inside of each knee a scar. But maybe when she looks at those scars, they might seem like badges. Badges of courage and character.

I have been blessed to have a daughter like this. For some reason that only God knows, her legs started out in life a bit off of center. Walking on tip toes, smiling and moving forward. A scary day at the hospital, and as she slept there in a medicated fog of general anesthestic, a pounding sound in a cool, sterile room, surrounded by those who would help her begin the task of healing. A groggy awakening to the smiling faces of her family. Intense pain, very slow recovery, feeling insecure, beginning all over again. And in the end, something crooked became straight. And a girl learned an early lesson in what life is sometimes about.

Maybe that is how it is for all of us. We don't like the diagnosis that life gives us, or maybe God gives us. Its scary. Maybe we can just leave things as they are, then it won't hurt. Kelly elected to face the pain, and the pounding, and the recovery. She showed me in new ways what healing is about. Sometimes, healing means being willing to be healed.

May we know what in us is crooked, and Who is our only hope to make it straight.

Making the Crooked Straight

This journey of life is mysterious, hard, and delightful, all at once. As I have mentioned, 0ver the past month I have spent a considerable amount of emotional effort looking after the care, feeding and emotional stability of my parents. Dad is 85 and Mom is 84, and clearly, they need more help. This opportunity to focus on the needs of others has been strangely beneficial to me. Life has become much less about me suddenly, and that is good. At 47, I have had the opportunity to reflect on what my life is about.

These changes have had caused me to reflect upon the character of the people I love the most - my family. Today, I thought I might share with you part of the story of one particular person who has, through the fates of life, shown me courage, endurance, and perseverance. My oldest daughter Kelly is now 14 years old, and heading to high school in just a matter of days. Even though she makes me crazy sometimes, Kelly is a wonderful kid. She has a smile that lights up the room, a sense of humor that consistently cheers her family and friends, and is just about the best friend a person could want.

Tippy Toes
When Kelly was little, she went everywhere on tip toes. When she walked, her heels really never touched the ground. I think it is a metaphor for how she lives life - always expectant. The orthopods we took her to cleverly called this condition "toe walking" (now there is what a med-school education will get you - sophisticated sounding diagnoses), and suggested we cast both her feet, to mid-calf, for a period of a month or so, in order to stretch our her Achilles tendons. We, as the serious and caring parents, considered the doctors' advice, and put her in casts. She was about 4 or 5, and she was a trooper, running about for about six weeks in two purple leg casts. She never broke her smile. We were hopeful the "toe walking" would taper off after the casts came off. It didn't. She just kept on moving through life on tip-toes.

Genu Valgum
When she approached Middle School we began to notice that she was markedly "knock-kneed", (or Genu Valgum - as medically termed and pictured above) and could not put her feet together without crossing her knees. More visits to the orthopods. Now it was getting more interesting. A surgical procedure was required, on both knees. Not easy. Slow recovery. The visit to the first orthopedic surgeon was less than fruitful, due to a noticeable lack of bedside manner. This seemingly gentle doctor told Kelly, "this is easy to fix, we just pound some surgical staples into your knee". Now, I don't know much about medicine, but the use of the verb "pound", is not in my mind a subtle way to explain something to a 12 year old. Kelly's eyes became noticeably larger as the use of the word "pound", and I somehow sensed we might seek a second opinion.

The second doctor was a much more diplomatic, and grandfatherly soul. He took a look a the xrays, looked at Kelly, and said, "Would you like to get those legs straightened out?" She nodded, apprehensively. He then smiled and said, "lets take care of this then - I can have you out of the hospital the same day". What a difference the initial approach makes. Kelly was steeling herself for this, not sure at all of what lay ahead.

The surgery took place on a January morning. Kelly was completely sedated, and had the surgical staples shown above inserted into both knees. Ok, not really inserted, more like, well, pounded. Kelly was in recovery in less than 90 minutes, and home late in the day.

More on the outcome, and lessons for our family - next up.

You Just HAVE to get this Book!

About once every couple of years, I come across a book that resonates with my soul. This is the book, and the author is pictured at right. Buy this book! Trust me on this, you will laugh, you will cry hard, and you will be encouraged. This is tangible faith, take it outdoors and into the street faith, messy, mysterious, and wonderful faith, expressed in beautiful ways. Go here to learn more about him and visit his web site. I have been following the wonderful writing of Gordon now for about nine months, and my life is so much richer for it.

Its a small world, as it turns out, Gordon just recently had the opportunity to meet a very dear friend of mine, Dale Bruner, at Laity Lodge in Texas. Gordon has appreciated deeply Dale's theological reflections for years, as I have been deeply thankful for the friendship that my wife and I have enjoyed with Dale and his wife Kathy. I love this small world concept, and I love the heart and writing of Gordon Atkinson, a brother in Christ from Texas.

How beautiful is the body of Christ.

Interrupted by Children While Driving to Work

While driving to work today, my usual calm ride was interrupted by the images of hungry children in Niger. I listened to this (go ahead and listen), and my heart filled with a sense of dread. Then I thought about going here to learn more. So I did.

And then I did this. Please, do the same, in Jesus' name. Its simple, really. Talk about WWJD......

Dinner with Frank

As we travel through this life, there are a few people who make real impressions on our lives. These are the souls who leave an imprint on us, leave us feeling hopeful about the future, and gracing us with humor, love, and a simple charm. People such as this are rare, and when we find them, life is sweeter for having been in their presence.

For the past 15 years or so, I have known a good and gracious man named Frank. Frank is much of the kind of man I want to be "when I grow up" I tell myself. Frank grew up in the eastern US, moved to Southern California just after World War II, settled down, and started a family with his sweet wife Jane. They have had children and grandchildren, seen births and deaths, joy and heartbreak. Frank grew up in a Jewish home, and came to accept Christ as a young married father here in Los Angeles. He has been very involved in the life of our church for more than 30 years. Frank and Jane's life together has been a blessing to those around them.

Frank is one of the coolest older guys I have known. About 15 years ago, there was an active and fun young couples group at our church. Several folks from this class have ended up in the ministry over the years, making career changes to follow Christ. Frank was a mentor and friend to many of the guys in this class. However, Frank's mentoring sometimes took a different form - poker night. Frank often organized poker night for the younger guys. We all love Frank.

Recently, my friend Frank was diagnosed with ALS, or Lou Gehrig's disease. Frank is 80 years old, but is the youngest 80 year old I have ever known. I swear he looks 65, and I suspect this is the result of Grace upon his life. Although his body is beginning to give way and he cannot walk anymore, his sense of humor is completely intact. He gets around these days via an electric wheelchair.

Last night our family made him dinner at his home, and afterward, Frank and I had a brief moment together in the dark on his patio under the stars. I asked Frank how he was doing, and how he was feeling. "You know, some days are better than others. Sometimes I get down, but you know, the Lord gives me great peace." Knowing Frank as I do, I know he meant that; he has never been one to spout Christian platitudes. Great peace. What a sweet gift. Come to think of it, that is what Frank is to me - a sweet gift.

The Stupid Tree

Short post today. I agree with Mark Brewer's concept of the "Stupid Tree". I am often ashamed at the mindless behavior of the career bureaucrats in the PCUSA. I have great respect for Mark, and for his view of what is really important in the world.

Something is Very Wrong Here!

Last night we had our dear friends, Mike and Nancy Litteken over for dinner. The kids splashed in the pool, the dad's cannon-balled the kids, and the weather was just about perfect. That weather is why there are 36 million people in California (note: there are 31.7 million people in ALL of Canada, the largest land mass in the world).

Anyway, we barbecued some steaks, shared an old bottle of wonderfully good cabernet, and enjoyed greatly each other's company. We have known Mike and Nancy for all of our almost 17 years of marriage, and I have known Nancy for a bit longer, when we worked together on this. Good friends are a blessing indeed.

Mike and Nancy have an 8 year old daughter named Molly, who loves life, and never seems to hold still for a moment. She is always the center of attention, and she loves to make people laugh. Molly has Down Syndrome. Molly's parents have big dreams for her life, as all we parents do for our kids. (For a girl who is realizing her dreams, and is pictured on this post, go peek here, and take a look around while you are at it, it will do your soul good)

As dinner was finished, and twilight filled the sky, Nancy and Mike told us of their time last weekend at the National Down Syndrome Congress in Anaheim. The weekend was a time of gathering, learning, sharing, and being granted hope for families on the journey with Down Syndrome. Our conversation was rich and fascinating. Nancy and I are so glad we know the Littekens and that Molly has swimming lessons in our pool every week.

We learned of something last night that is amazing and outrageous all at once. I have to tell you about it. It seems that there is a problem in the medical community that is nearly beyond belief. Nancy and Mike shared with us that they heard a speech by Dr. William Bronston, indicating that a large majority of the people with disabilities interviewed regarding organ transplantation believed they were subject to "wholly illegal, explicit and de facto discrimination" regarding organ transplant availability. The National Work Group on Disability and Transplantation, founded by Dr. Bronston, reported that "survey results indicate that policy and practices in the transplantation field have resulted in effectively excluding persons with intellectual and other disabilities." The study group attributed this to the improper use of "psychosocial" criteria employed in qualifying transplant candidates and the lack of awareness training, which serves to perpetuate express and de facto discrimination. To read more, go here, and here - this one will make you more upset.

Ok, I know that I have gone on long here, but I think the second paragraph of the Declaration of Independence says something about "all men are created equal". Not to mention, um, well, what the Scriptures tell us! In closing, I am not sure whether we should all be writing our congressmen about this, or writing letters to the editor, or forming a PAC. But can we agree that something is very wrong in our culture if disabled people are not treated as full equals?

One Very Cool Very Job Above Earth, And An Uncool One Down There

This bottom photo was taken yesterday, during a space walk on the current Shuttle Mission. Can a job get any cooler than this? I think not! And what about the top photo, how about the view from this bedroom window. Truly stunning! It is beyond me how anyone can become blase about the space program. I mean, it may be somewhat inefficient, but its nothing compared to working at the UN.

Our Place of Weakness

As I have mentioned here, my perspective on life has been altered significantly in the past weeks by the declining health of my parents. This morning, I was reading this, and was struck by the words of Henri Nouwen describing meals at L'Arche Daybreak Community in Toronto:

"During times of prayer at the end of each meal, it becomes clear that these Daybreak meals have the quality of a memorial. We lift up not only our own life to God in gratitude, but also the lives of those of whose weaknesses we are aware, and especially the lives of those who are dying or have died. Thus, we make all par of our "fellowship of weakness".

Reading this made me think, yet again of this verse, upon which my faith is centered. I am thankful today for a God who knows our weaknesses, and makes Himself known in the midst of weakness.

How Do You Spell Shellacing?

To answer avid reader Tod Bolsinger, this was a long weekend. On Saturday, my daughter Heather and I headed to Riverside for the 11 year old girls All Star State softball championships. The result of that game was less than splendid. There is a rule in girls softball that if a team is ahead by more than 10 runs in the 4th inning, the game is mercifully ended; hence the term "mercy", often used as a verb, as in, "we mercied them". We got mercied.

Last night was the second game in the (less than winners) bracket. Something interesting happened in this game. At the field at which we played, there is an interesting tradition of turning off the electronic scoreboard in center field if one team is ahead by what is determined to be "too many" runs. Long story short, the scoreboard was turned off, in the 5th inning - because of the less than stellar performance of the South Pasadena team. One problem for us; our best pitcher took off to Guatemala with her anthropologist professor parents to study monkeys. Good for her. Better exploring the jungles than pitching in 90 degree heat in Riverside.

Now, let me add here that my daughter is a completely happy girl, even after this loss. Perhaps that is because her parents were not so absorbed into this whole sports thing that it rules our lives. Life moves on, and now, at long last, after a month of summer school and thrice (or more) weekly practices, my 11 year old can be, imagine this if you can, a kid. A kid. Swimming in the pool, hanging with friends, even (gasp) watching some Disney Channel (right now, her favorite program is this).

This is a funny culture we live in, where half of a kid's summer is dominated by sports. I am not completely comfortable with it all, especially with an eye on Kingdom things, I wonder if this sports obsession we have is all that good. The way sports affects some families we know is probably not healthy. I have always thought that kids should be kids as long as is possible. The way that our media and culture bombard them to be little adults is frightening, and we need to let our kids grow up at a slower pace if that is at all possible.

Final and somewhat scary thought. Next year, Heather turns 12. At that age, the All Stars can end up in the National Little League Champships! Maybe we will go to Guatemala instead.

The Girls of Summer

Tonight I find myself in Riverside, California, 70 miles from home. We are watching a softball game, in which my 11 year old daughter and her team is playing for the State Championships. Unbelievable. Long way from home. I need to be less cranky about the long drive in traffic (always here in LA), and embrace these fleeting moments of life.

I will admit, there is nothing quite like the green grass of a ball field, right at twilight. This is a lovely world, sometimes. But, to keep it in the proper context, check this out, and then pray, and maybe even give.

I will let you know the results soon.

Lets Focus on What Really Matters

The Body of Christ. Young and old, rich and poor, strong and weak, confident and fearful. The Scriptures call us to unity, to a life together that is distinct, unique, transformed. Different, set apart, yet completely loving and wonderfully attractive. Its a mystery, and often a journey rather than a destination. Why can this not be our focus?

My old (not that old) friend KC, who is now pastoring at a church in Sacramento, is one fellow who constantly seeks the heart of Christ, and wants to model servant leadership in the best way he knows how. I am so very glad I know him, this morning, I checked his blog and found this and below it, this. As I read these thoughts, I could hear the crack of a wooden bat at a high outside fastball. KC hit it out of the park. I love this guy.

KC's thoughts of Miss Mears stuck me. Henrietta was a woman who was unabashedly focused on introducing people to Christ; it was all that really mattered to her. We have a building at our church named after her. She was influential in the life of many great Christian leaders; Bill Bright, Billy Graham, and Rafer Johnson.

In contrast to this focus, over the past six months, our church has been going through an almost unbelievable time of pain and sadness for many. I have discussed this before here and here. It seems unrelenting.

This past week brought about the resignation of yet another member of the Session, or governing body of the church. But this was no ordinary resignation, this was a resignation filled with fanfare, declarations of persecution, and publicity. Within hours of this resignation, announcements were made on several websites that serve to promote the one-sided view of the staunch supporters of the senior pastor. I will not link to these sites, as they lead to further division of the Body, rather than uniting it.

What should be happening instead? All this blustering, fawning of persecution and secretive plots against the church has me thinking. Thinking about the cross. A single event that towers over history, a day and a weekend that changed everything, everywhere, forever. And yet, we sad, broken, sorry Christian people behave often as if none of this really happened. We are not any different than the world around us. Its all about (me) us, our agendas, our perceptions of who is right and who is wrong. Humility is lost. Excuses abound. Grace has vanished.

Can I state for myself alone that I would be absolutely lost without the transforming grace of Christ. All I own, all those I love, all I hope to do going forward from this day is meaningless without being framed in the light of what Jesus has done for me - and for all of humanity. Its all meaningless without knowing that our lives are lived with a divine purpose in mind. Its all that matters. We have lost our focus. We all need help.

Ben Stein Gets It Right

You know how you get those emails at the office that are sort of annoying; like the "pass this on or you will be hit by a bus", or "write your congressman about this", or "hello, I am the widow of the Nigerian Consulate in Bhugmamaland and I have US $50 million to give you, if you will only write back and give me your bank account PIN"?

Well today, I got an email that made me weep. It seems that Ben Stein has written his last column, but it might have happened a while ago, I can't be sure. Either way, take a minute and read it. You will be glad you did.

Its like Ben crawled inside my head, and read my mind. Take a minute, read it, and be blessed. I would love to have a meal with Ben.

God Speed STS-114

About 12 years ago, I had the privilege of watching a shuttle launch at Kennedy Space Center. I will never, ever, forget it. We were standing almost 3 miles away, and I could feel the rumbling of the liftoff in my chest. It was a pre-dawn launch, and the sky lit up like it was daylight. In some small way, the experience left me feeling that this might be a glimpse of Glory to come. Amazing, striking, beyond belief. I know people think the space program is questionable - but go to a launch, meet people involved in exploration, and you might feel differently.

Five men and two women, floating in space for the next 13 days. Adventurers, explorers, heroes all. God speed, good men and women!

Heaven on Earth and a Weekend Away

Have you ever been here:

Santa Barbara, California, is, in my feeble mind, just about as close to Heaven on earth as one can get. Nancy and I spent two days, without kids here this weekend. Wonderful. Perhaps this is why one of my favorite Americans had his family ranch close to Santa Barbara; it really is God's country. Amazing Mexican food here! Ok, enough sounding like a travelogue.

In other news, the Norris clan continues to span the globe in search of adventure. This week, our 14-year old daughter Kelly is here, on a one week mission trip with her high school fellowship. You can view all the action and updates right here And Heather, the 11-year old wonder, has participated in an amazing team (look at the photo on the far right, that is her team!) I love the web!

In other thrilling news, you will recall that I have been the wandering churchie in the past. This weekend gave my wife and I another shot at being the Mystery worshippers at Santa Barbara Community Church. After my lengthy reviews of other worship services, I have but one thing to say......Wonderful. Heartfelt worship, a casual yet inviting environment, excellent exposition of the Word, and a genuine community of Believers. Thank you God. One warning, wear Rainbows to this church, or be uncool.

Katie and Emily Benton - Make America Proud

I just sat down to check blogs, and spotted this on Fox News. The Benton sisters, injured in the London bombings, spoke to the media today, and it was eloquent. I feel better about America, and the state of our collective souls, just listening to them. I hope that my daughters can have their character and poise, when they reach this age.

Wait, I am sounding like my Dad again. What has become of me, in my middle age?

Lets Not Take Ourselves Too Seriously

For me, the photo at the right is hysterical. The dapper dancing fellow is Jack Roberts, four year old son of Supreme Court nominee John Roberts. According to the New York Times, the Robert's married nine years ago, when they were both in their 40s, and tried to have children. After several failed adoption efforts, they now have Josephine (5) and John (Jack) (4). That is a great story in and of itself. Kids help us not to take ourselves so darned seriously, don't they.

Possible captions might include:

President Bush: "Welcome to the White House Conference on the Crisis of ADHD and America's Stylishly Clad Youth"

Jane Roberts: "Jaaaack, please stop that or Josie is going to put her shoe on your bottom, VERY hard!"

Josephine: "Mother, I don't think Jack took his medicine today"

President Bush: "We are gathered here today to pronounce this Wiggly Sear Sucker Kid Suit Month"

Judge Roberts (through clenched teeth): "Ack Jay, opp stay the ancing day, ow nay!"

Judge Roberts (again through clenched teeth): "Heh, heh, Jack, oh Jack......don't make Daddy go get the Restraining Order Paddle"

Jack: "Neener, neener, neener, I'm performing my own personal filibuster right here."

Jack: "Eyow, I am a bad little dancing white boy!"

Your suggestions are welcome...

Kids Have Very Good Things to Teach Us

Last night, my daughter Heather and I (pictured at left) drove together to the airport to pick up our dear friend and house guest Jill. I love these times in the car with my girls, as it provides us with precious time together to talk about whatever runs into our minds.

As we zoomed down the 710 freeway, this conversation took place:

Heather: "Dad, you know the kid in school with only one arm... (this is a wonderful boy who, through some minor birth defect, is missing the lower portion of one arm)....I was just thinking, Dad, how would he drive a car?"

Me: "Well heck, with one arm, I suppose" (to which I then demonstrated driving with one arm - please don't tell the CHP!) You know, people with handicap's find amazing ways of compensating"

Heather: "Yeah, he is a great kid, they even have a special jump rope for him at school; he can hook one end of it over his shoulder, and he can jump rope just fine"

Me: "That is very cool, I would love to see how that works."

We then drove on for a while, and Heather wanted to play one of the CDs her Mom has in the car, and she went to this song, which is my favorite. I told Heather it was, and she said, "Its my favorite too." I silently thanked God for Heather, I still cannot believe she is my daughter. I love my girls!

The deeper message here for me is, that even in the midst of messy church behavior, Christ is Lord, He is honored by our worship, and we need to continue to seek His face.

I am a sinner. I disappoint those I love often. I cannot make it through this life on my own power. I hope I can have a life that learns to adapt, so I too can hook one end of that jump rope over my shoulder, and jump rope just fine.

What should John Roberts say to the Senate?

President Bush's nomination of John Roberts indicates that the Senate Judiciary committee will be having a partisan free-for-all in the coming days.

How should John Roberts respond to questions from Senators? Look here for an interesting model.

In summary:

"Ginsburg’s hearings demonstrate that there are many valid reasons why a judicial nominee may decline to answer the questions posed by individual senators. Justice Ginsburg declined to answer, or gave only generalized answers, to a vast number of the questions she was asked during her confirmation hearings. Despite this, Justice Ginsburg was confirmed by a vote of 96-3, which suggests that the Senate recognized her reasons for caution as valid and appropriate. In light of this precedent, the Senate and current judicial nominees should carefully apply those same reasons for caution (discussed above) to establish a common understanding of the rules for a confirmation hearing. This understanding will help in avoiding much of the delay and conflict that has become part of the confirmation process."

Life is Short, Lets Make a Difference

Tonight, my wife and I finished watching this, which we had recorded several weeks ago from PBS. It is amazing. Really. Buy the DVD, you will be very glad you did. You Pastors who stop by this blog, this series would make wonderful grist for a discussion of how the church can be effective in the world. Interesting note - not one of the "New Heroes" discussed on PBS had any visible form of Christian faith attached to their work. Think how much more effective the Gospel might be if tethered to social action in developing countries.

Today, as I was running errands in the car, I thought about how many times I use the phrase "life is short" in describing to others why some stuff in life is just not important, like staying later at the office, making more money, or focusing on unimportant details. And the events of the last week or so with my parents brings this all into sharper focus. Will we have lives that make a solid difference, that lift others up, and that leave our corner of the world brighter and more full of God's grace? I sure hope so.

Part of the journey for me is to figure out what that would look like for a guy like me. I own a small commercial real estate appraisal and consulting firm in Old Town Pasadena. How do I use my business, the money it generates, and the experience I have to do something unique and lasting for the Kingdom? Perhaps helping with land use decisions in the developing world, is this possible? Suggestions are welcome! Also, look here in the coming days, to see what interesting things my friend Tod might have to say about all this. Lets link hands, and figure out what God might be calling us to do.

De Nile Is Not Just a River in Egypt

The past several days have been odd ones for me. As I have noted here, my elderly parents have recently required a greater amount of my time and energy than I have been used to in the past. This investment of my life into theirs will likely increase in the weeks and months to come. This is difficult for me, as I grew up in a home where painful things were not discussed, where problems were minimized, conflict was not dealt with in a productive way, but, mind you, everything was always "fine". I have been in a state of denial for some time that this season of life was approaching.

I was raised in the 60s and 70s in a time where "dinner parties" were the big social event, and I played with Matchbox cars, Etch-a-Sketch, and electric football (where the little men jiggle like mad, and then fall over). My Mom wore a moo-moo when the guests came over, and served a "gourmet dinner", as my Dad called it. Much barbecuing occurred on the back deck by the pool. "Cocktails" were consumed prior to dinner, and after about age 15, I was the bartender. Only child bartender, imagine that.

Yesterday, my folks and I met with the social worker who is assisting in our care-giving, to discuss what comes next. We agreed that care will 8 hours a day, every day of the week. Someone will be there to watch over them all day, until they have completed dinner and are heading off to bed. Dad is worried that we will not let him drive any more, and I am not sure what to do about that yet. Mom is more amenable to moving to an assisted living facility, but Dad is not there yet, and may not ever be.

As I drove to my parent's home yesterday, I prayed that I might become a provider of grace, mercy, and peace to my folks. I hope that was accomplished. I am sure they are feeling stress and worry that they cannot speak of. After my 47 years, I have learned that they are not from a very communicative generation. I hope I can be more honest and freeing to my own girls as I age. My sweet wife purchased this book earlier in the week for me, and it has been a source of comfort. Another source of meaning has been this. Another book I have been thinking about getting a copy of is this.

I am loath to admit that all of these changes have had me thinking (is it selfish?) quite a bit about where I am in life, and suddenly realizing my own mortality as never before. Some day, these sad things will be happening to me. However, my prayer is that they may happen in an easier way, a more joyous way, and perhaps even a way filled with laughter. Is that possible? I hope so.

In the end, this life is a mystery. I want to embrace that, and be present in the moments of struggle and pain for Mom and Dad. This is what Jesus would have me do, I am confident. A touch to someone who is wounded, a listening ear to the woman at the well, a confidence that the Kingdom of God lies ahead.

This is Why I Drink...Moderately

I feel vindicated by the Wall Street Journal. For those of you wondering how I do it, this article illustrates is why I am a more humble and generous fellow than the average bear.

Please drop a comment if the link does not work, and I will go have a drink with the Editors and straighten this all out.

Making A Difference - One Pump at a Time

The IDE Foot Pump (flowers not included)

First off, sorry for the huge paragraphs and mega font....Blogger is misbehaving today....

Here in South Pasadena we have been blessed to befriend some really wonderful people. I have posted briefly on the charms of our little town in the Big City here. One of the best blessing we have had is getting to know Jim & Debbie Taylor and their children. We met them about four years ago, have become good friends, and observed as they have begun and adventurous journey toward doing something remarkable - one farmer at a time - half way around the world.

Debbie, is a native of Myanmar (Burma) and has worked in Myanmar since 1995 as a consultant to the United Nations Development Programme and The World Bank. She has over 20 years of experience in developing countries, working in both Cambodia and Indonesia. She holds a masters degree from Harvard University in development economics and public policy. Jim has extensive experience in both the private and public sectors. Prior to launching the IDE-Myanmar program he was a senior executive in a global software company serving the food industry and in a Fortune 400 agri-business company. His development experience includes work in Cambodia, Indonesia, Bangladesh, and India. He holds an MBA from the University of Southern California and a masters degree from Harvard University. So there you are; two very smart and compassionate souls, and wonderful marriage partners.

Two years ago, the Taylors packed their belongings, leased their house on the next block over from our house, and took of to Burma, with their 12 year old son and 16 year old daughter. Jim and Debbie are now working in conjunction with International Development Enterprises (IDE), manufacturing, marketing, and selling a small foot pump (pictured above). The pump sells to rural farmers for $13, and can increase annual income for a small farmer more than $150 per year.

You should know this type of development work has a good track record. In neighboring Bangladesh in the 1980s, IDE came across a locally-invented treadle pump with great promise. IDE helped to refine the pump design, initiate a private-sector supply chain, and actively market the pump to smallholders. The result was a phenomenal growth in the treadle pump market with dozens of manufacturers, over a thousand dealers, and over 1.5 million treadle pump users to date. The rural economy has been lifted to the point where many farmers are now investing in diesel pumps, as they can afford to even further increase investment and productivity in their farms.

Two people on the next street over take a risk, move thousands of miles away from home, and begin to make a difference, one pump at a time. Kingdom stuff.

Google Earth Rocks!

As a commercial real estate consultant, the new Google Earth is amazing beyond comprehension. This software will take you anywhere you want to go on the planet in seconds. Download it today, play with it (waisting about 2 hours easily), and enjoy a truly remarkable product of the Internet age. I am awaiting "Google Universe" next.

Chosen, Blessed, and Broken

From the words of Henri Nouwen:

"When Jesus took bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to his disciples, he summarized in these gestures his own life. Jesus is chosen from all eternity, blessed at his baptism in the Jordan River, broken on the cross, and given as bread to the world. Being chosen, blessed, broken, and given is the sacred journey of the Son of God, Jesus the Christ.

When we take bread, bless it, break it, and give it with the words "This is the Body of Christ," we express our commitment to make our lives conform to the life of Christ. We too want to live as people chosen, blessed, and broken, and thus become food for the world."

Please Lord, let me be like this.

Henri Nouwen 1932-1996

Kindergarten Sunday School Connects with Real Life

My father, Roland, who you will learn about more in the weeks and months to come, is 85 years old, and served in the 5th Air Force during World War II as a B-17 pilot. More later on that.

This past Sunday was my turn to teach the Sunday school lesson to the 11 o'clock Kindergarten class at our church. I have virtually no memory of Sunday school growing up, as my parents were far more "culturally Christian" than evangelical. That is much of the way it was during the 60's and 70s, at least for me. I learned yesterday that Kindergarten lessons are not silly, and really do connect directly to real life.

Anyway, the lesson was on Genesis 39 and 40; and Joseph's character and behavior, first as a slave for the King, and secondly as a slave in prison. The theme of the morning was, in kindergarten parlance, "I will never get tired of doing what is right". I told the story of Joseph, using my wonderfully cooperative daughter Heather as an example - running errands all over the room (with a smile on her face). I think the kids enjoyed it.

But as my pastor friends have told me, sometimes the sermon is really for yourself, and not the intended audience. And so it was (and is) with me.....

Over the last several months, my Dad's general health has declined significantly, to the point where he and my Mom (84 years old), require much more emotional involvement, time, and care. I am so very blessed to be standing in this with my wonderful wife, who is one of the most compassionate people I have ever met, and with an outstanding social worker who specializes in senior care. As an only child, I don't know what I would do without them. We will work as a team to provide my folks with the best care possible. I hope to share my journey with you here, in order to journal my own thoughts, and to illustrate God's faithfulness. His presence gives me hope, purpose, and compassion to care. That conviction is not something I come about by my own strength. Indeed, His Grace is Sufficient.

It is going to be a tough road, not smooth and easy, as I would prefer. But I know that this road is where Jesus wants me to be. I am not alone in this journey.

And so, pray for me. Pray that I would "never get tired of doing what is right!"

If you have had a similar journey, let me know.

Attitude is Important

This is too good to avoid sharing, with images like these. (HT to Hugh Hewitt) Interesting how that website makes me think about this. And to follow it up, I was struck today by the thoughts of Daniel Henninger of the Wall Street Journal, who connects the dots together in an interesting way about the relationship between the London bombings and other foreign policy issues.

Also, if you want to understand a bit more of the pluck of the British, rent this movie. It has long been one of my favorites; perhaps because it illustrates the character of a people and of a family experiencing war in a way that I have never had to face in my 47 years. I have heard much of war from my 86 year old father though. More on that another time. For more direct from the London source, visit here.

And finally, to get a sense of perspective of all this madness, take a long look at this.

Grace and Peace, and prayers for the people of London.

United We Stand with the British

Today was not an easy day. Unfortunately, now July 7th will have a similar, although possibly different meaning to the people of London that September 11th does to us. We will never forget.

Two things to read and think about. First, this, which is quite scary to me. Al Franken needs to stick with comedy. And next is this, an example of the spirit of the British people, who all deserve our prayers this night.

Lord, hear our prayer for the people of London.

Boy, Aren't We American's Swell?!

Over the past several weeks, there has been much fomenting in the Blogosphere regarding the One Campaign, the G8 Conference, and Live8.

Not to be the guy who is left out, I am taking a brief break from my church musings (I might still have more to say, but I am not sure) to give you a measure of cognitive dissonance over the whole African aid issue.

To start off, David Smith seems to be all in a lather about the One Campaign, claiming that corruption is at the root of all evil in Africa. He is probably right, but sometimes I have a hard time reading because of this log in my own eye, you know?

Then we have Doug Payton at Stones Cry Out commenting that Americans are really generous. I have read this before, I believe in the Wall Street Journal, and other places, and this concept makes me feel strange. We are generous, isn't that nice of us? Come to think of it, we are also clean, brave, thrifty, and reverent (well, sort of), we Americans. Please reference the graphic above, as it is self congratulation time. Oh wait, I forgot to mention that we Americans are also humble. As a matter of fact, in scientific studies, Americans were found to be 15 times more humble that any other major population occupying a land mass north of the Equator.

Alright, I am sorry, the sarcasm is getting too thick. But in response, I want to share with you this (HT to Tod Bolsinger) which for me, captures what really should be happening. I just have to quote my favorite paragraph:

Why appeal to government when the church is a far better resource? John L. and Sylvia Ronsvalle, authors of The State of Church Giving Through 2001, note that if American Christians gave 10 percent of their income to support the work of the church, it would provide $143 billion to equip the church to do what she is called to do. Why ask for a measly $25 billion when the American church has more money and can directly support those private groups charged with addressing the greatest needs in the most effective ways? This approach allows governments to focus on things like building infrastructure and securing peace and justice.

So, is the church a better resource? What you say? No?! What is wrong with us self-congratulatory American Christians? When will the church stand up and become something more than an institution, but rather a living, breathing vessel of the transformational Christ? When will we stop sitting on our wallets and open them? Perhaps then, those around us who sit on the sidelines and giggle at our little church silliness (as I have been recently discussing, and have been a part of myself) will begin to see a community of Believers that actually can and do make a difference? Oh, and if that is not enough, you might want to get a hold of this (it is amazing), because it seems there are a lot of non-Christian folk who are doing work that is more redemtive than a lot of church folk can often do.

Stepping down off my soap box now. Thanks for letting me rant.

Remembering the Fallen

On this day after the 4th, we all need to remember the quality of character of the men and women who protect our freedom and work to bring freedom to others.

Take a couple of minutes to listen to the story of a fallen hero. If you have dry eyes afterward, you are a tougher soul than I.

God Bless Maj. Steven Reich, his family, and his new bride. May He grant them Peace beyond understanding.

A More Perfect Union or Perfect Society?

Today is the 4th of July. I our town we have a "Festival of Balloons" Parade, which is an event that involves a whole lot more people; kids, seniors, parents, and whoever wanders into the parade route than actual balloons. The photo to the right is of a two-story tall inflatable Lady Liberty, who wobbled down the parade route today, being towed by a guy riding an ATV. It was great. My wife and I sat with our dog and watched everything go by - in South Pasadena the joke is that about half of the town is actually in the parade, and the other half cheers them as they go by. It is small town Americana at its best, in the midst of a huge metropolis. What a gift each day here is.

Today, we celebrate the Declaration of Independence, as our nation is 229 years old. Ronald Reagan once said, "You and I have a rendezvous with destiny. We will preserve for our children this, the last best hope of man on earth, or we will sentence them to take the first step into a thousand years of darkness. If we fail, at least let our children and our children's children say of us we justified our brief moment here. We did all that could be done."

It took our little nation more than a decade to get from the Declaration to the Constitution; written in the summer of 1787 in Philadelphia. The first line of the US Constitution reads:

"We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America."

We have come a long way since that hot, sticky summer on the cobblestone streets of Philadelphia. This stuck me as I read this wonderful, haunting article by Angela Beise, who is a missionary in France. Indeed, we must be very careful with our freedoms and with the technologies we are unleashing on the world.

I have a friend named Molly. She is turning 8 years old this month. She lives with a wonderfully loving family near us, dear friends we have know for more than 20 years. Molly loves life, and never seems to hold still for a moment. She is always the center of attention, and she loves to make people laugh. Molly has Down Syndrome. I hate to think what all of our lives would be like without Molly; of how much less color we would see.

Sometimes I wonder, are we really still working to "preserve this last best hope of man on earth"?

Happy 4th of July!

I'll Take Jesus Door #3, Monty!

Over the past several days, my friends Rob Asghar and Tod Bolsinger have been discussing the same thing, on different yet parallel tracks. Rob has been discussing, as fairly as I think is possible, the history of profound failure in leadership at Hollywood Presbyterian. Tod is beginning what I hope will be a longer discussion of what the church should really be about. You really need to review what these two have been saying.

Tod's recent comments have me thinking about what we expect church to be, and about something I mentioned briefly before. The picture Tod paints of today's church is something I have heard him mention before, of church as some kind of "spiritual smorgasbord", or buffet table, in which you pick the things you want, and leave the stuff you don't like on the table. We tend to demand and then take from church what we want, and leaving the rest behind, including things that might bring so many more people to relationship with Christ and His Kingdom. It gives me the willies sometimes; "Give me Jesus Door #3 Monty, I will take Promise Keepers, Joel Osteen, and hanging out only with people that look like me!"

Maybe in many ways, this is what is wrong with the American church, and why the vitality and charisma of the church here seems so lacking compared with the explosive growth of the church in the third world . Just look at what happened to the church in Western Europe; and I wonder if we might be heading that way as well. Perhaps this is what has been wrong with Hollywood Presbyterian, and why it has gotten itself into such a mess. Too many trees, and not a good view of the forrest. It was "church as usual", or "church for a select few", or too oriented around the personality of a well-meaning but overly controlling pastor. We American church folk need to reexamine the way we do church, the lives we lead, and the core mission of this Jesus fellow that we follow.

However, if we do this, really follow this Jesus, its likely to be messy. He is going to ask us to love the unlovely, to do the hard thing, to live with less possessions, and for our lives to be less self-centered. I am the first to admit, as an only child, that I don't like some of these ideas. Lord help me where I am weak. Help us all.

My Happy Place and a Tour of Hollywood

We just need a good therapist

I have been very busy with work and family things this week, but two of my good friends have started in on further discussions of why the church lets us down, and how we let each other down within the Body of Christ. I often let other people down, including my family, so I know how this feels.

Tod Bolsinger's comments on his "happy place" left me thinking of my favorite comic therapist (pictured above) while Rob Asghar has some of his most lengthy posts ever about all the pain, confusion, and faults of a once-great church, not to mention a newspaper column that is absolutely the most equal-time piece I have seen yet about the way we humans behave in conflict. Well done, Rob!

I might have more to add at some point in all this, but for now, you are left in good hands with these two very good men.

Keeping a Sense of Perspective

For the past couple of days I have been blogging on the rather narrow topic of what I think is wrong with the church I have attended for a number of years. Then today, I stopped by the blog of Keith Smith, and felt a strange chill - as my silly little life was put into sudden perspective.

We need to understand our place in the world, and the potential that we have to affect real change. Our lives can make a difference, in very tangible ways. This is what should really haunt us (play the video!), and make us think twice about what we think is important. Really.

Lord help me from my narrow little self.

Doing The Right Thing, Even if it Hurts....A Lot

Gosh, how could this church have any problems?

As I noted recently, the greatest tragedy in the sad church split that I have been discussing recently has been the inability of those in leadership to really focus on the things that are important, namely the unity of the church around the Lordship of Christ. The ordination vows in the Presbyterian church include the following question of those being ordained to pastoral ministry :

"Do you promise to further the peace, unity, and purity of the church? "

As I have learned, "unity and purity" can mean different things to different people. By way of example, let me share with you a true story:

A pastor I have know of and have respected for many years was, a number of years ago, pastoring a solid and growing church when a faction that didn't like his leadership tried to force him out, by taking a vote of "no confidence". The pastor was stunned and heart broken. As he prayed about what was best for God's temple, he decided that it would really be best if he resigned. Though he felt sure that he could defeat his foes, and also had the support of the local Presbytery, he also believed that this would seriously damage the church over the long run. His career, his income, his reputation . . . none of these mattered as much as the church he loved so much. So he resigned.

Now this is upside-down logic if I have ever seen it. In corporate life, or secular culture, this pastor was what might technically be described as "whimping out". I mean really now, what a chicken, to cower in the face of detractors. Egads. Pathetic. I trust you sense my sarcasm.

What I have witnessed in the past several months at my church, has been the opposite of this story. "Spin" has been the order of the day. Excuses, and blaming, and conspiracy theories have taken the place of humility, repentance, dialog, and a pursuit of unity. It is all very, very sad. And I fear that to those looking in from the outside, this is just another example of the hollow claims that Christian folk can live in community that is any different from the rest of the world. I would hope going forward that we can all, including myself, do better than this. By the way, I have feet of clay that reach up to my neck.

For deeper thoughts than I am capable of on the topic of church/Christian conflict, go here and here.

Too Much Stuff

This week, I came across a haunting article in the Wall Street Journal about the self storage industry. It seems that "whatever the strains and shortcomings of the U.S. economy, we Americans have a whole lot more stuff than we used to. How much? So much that there is enough space in rentable self-storage lockers in the U.S. for each man, woman and child to stand on a spot 2½ feet by 2½ feet, with room left over. The U.S. has 1.875 billion square feet of self-storage space, according to the Self Storage Association.:

I did some quick math, and found out that this is 43,044 acres of land, or 67 square miles. This is horrendous!

Now, to be clear, about 40% of self storage space is occupied by businesses, but this still leaves all of us a square of 1.875' x 1.875' to stand in, or 40 square miles of self storage space. Again, from the Journal:

"....most folks who rent storage space use it to store furniture, kitchenware, clothing, photos and paintings, holiday and seasonal items, books and magazines, towels and linens, the trade association's survey found. About 9% said they store food in them. (Maybe that's what happens when you buy too much at Costco or Sam's Club.) And it isn't just rich folks who have an abundance of belongings: A third of the units are rented by people with incomes under $30,000 a year."

Now really. Something about this is very bizzare to me; and makes me think about this. Now of course, I actually have a storage unit - because the attorney's are in charge of our lives, and I have to keep all my business records for five years. But we don't have a personal storage unit, as my wife and I have decided that if we ever need one, we simply have too much "stuff", and need to give it away to those less fortunate.

But this quote, was to me the scariest of the whole article:

"Forget about two- or three-car garages and finished basements -- today that's just not enough space for U.S. households overflowing with excess furniture, camping gear, sporting equipment," Joseph Quinlan, chief stock-market strategist for Bank of America Corp., said in a note to clients the other day. He even suggested that the ability to put all that stuff in storage units is a "critical prop to global growth" because consumers will keep spending only as long as they have a place to put their purchases. "If U.S. consumers run out of storage space," he quipped, "the global economy is doomed."

Can you hear the creepy science-fiction music in the background. What kind of a society have we created?