This Island and a Glimpse of Heaven

I took this picture less than a month ago, on the north shore of Kauai. This photo is now the desktop background on my PC at the office. It miss this spot a great deal, and this photo touches, for me, the wonderful beauty of the mystery of this journey through life. I still cannot believe I stood waist deep in warm Hawaiian waters and took this picture. Why was I given this wonderful moment with my sweet family, and why have I been graced with a loving wife and two wonderful girls?

I am of the opinion that it would be wonderful if much of life could be set to music, and if this moment were to be set to music it would be the music of Israel "IZ" Kamakawiwo'ole, and, it would be this song (go ahead and play it from NPR while you read the rest of this). "IZ" only lived to the age of 38, but seemed to have a wonderful spirit, which lives on in his music.

One of my favorite authors is Frederick Buechner, and he wrote something in Longing for Home, that has marked my life, because he described so well moments I have had in my own journey through life. In short, Buechner described an otherwise ordinary day at Sea World with his family in which he had the sense of mind to recognize that God was showing him something remarkable. For more details, buy the book, you will be glad you did.

Have we all not had brief moments where we have fleetingly seen a glimpse of the Home we are heading to? The trick is recognizing these moments. They are like trying to hold mercury in your hands, they slip away so quickly. The wedding of dear friends, the embrace of a loved one, the smile of a baby, a brilliant sunset, a quiet night in a place where there are millions of stars overhead. Most remarkably of course, the presence of God, strangely warming our hearts.

On that warm summer day on Tunnels Beach, I felt almost sure that heaven had dipped so low I could nearly touch it. I know its there, and someday, I will head Home. May we be granted the grace to recognize when Heaven passes near, while we are still down here.

Something to Think About Tomorrow

Tomorrow, if you go to church, and the air conditioning is turned up too much, or you have to deal with someone who is a bit cranky - think on this. I suspect your attitude might improve.

Living with Not Knowing

Two weeks of not knowing, of going to bed every night and waking up every morning wondering how much damage your home has sustained. Is it repairable, still under water? Does it smell, is it moldy? When can we go home? Is the furniture all ruined? How much will insurance pay, or will it pay for anything at all? Who else even wants to go back? What is our life going to look like?

And then there is the church. It might have sustained water damage too, we don't know yet. Will some of the key leaders never return to New Orleans, because their jobs with Shell Oil have been permanently transferred to Houston?

I had my first phone conversation with Pastor Mike yesterday, and he is spending all his energy on pastoring his flock scattered around the country. Its not easy. Long days, late nights, and still not knowing. Mike and Christina's "shotgun" house is 150 years old, as is their church. Mike is fairly sure that both sustained damage, just how much, he still does not know. The Hoggs moved into their house just this past July. It might take two weeks or more before Mike can return to New Orleans to survey the damage.

In the midst of the chaos and confusion, Mike has a miracle to report. Everyone in his congregation has been found and is safe. Now scattered all over the country, they continue to be in regular communication via phone and email. Mike is concerned that some folks may not ever want to return, either forced into this decision by employment, or traumatized by the whole experience. As one church member told Mike, "Humanly speaking, I don't want to go back.., but we're going to seek the Lord and find out what He wants us to do". May we be praying for all in Mike's flock and others in similar circumstances throughout the Southeast.

Mike needs a truck for use in assisting folks to rebuild. We are on it here.

Pray that we can find him one cool truck!

Sharing Jesus at Work

Dodger 7, Rockies 8....sigh

Well, it seems that there is a rather obscure discussion going on about faith/work/vocation in other quarters of the Blogosphere. My friend Pastor Mark Roberts has written this, as a part of Theologica, a new effort of World Magazine. Good for all these folks participating in this effort. But my reading thus far, leaves me wanting more substance. Sort of like listening in on CS Lewis and JR Tolkien in the pub discussing things abstract and theological, whilst pipe-puffing. People! Keep in mind that the landscape of real-world vocation is much more messy than pastors and theologians allow or perhaps understand.

First, I have to note the comment of my blogging friend, Mark Smith. I have reproduced Mark's comment to Mark Roberts thoughts on vocation below:

"Hi Mark, You made a good point when you said, “So, I expect that this might help to explain why Arch and I see things differently. And, if I were in his shoes, I might well see things from his perspective, and vice versa. We're both reading the same Bible, but we're seeing it in light of our pastoral concerns and challenges." It seems to me that most Pastors, male and female, are much more relational than the typical believer in the pew. Therefore, what usually gets preached from the pulpit is the need for more and better relationships in and out of the Church, but what gets heard and felt by the believer in the pew is a sense of failure in trying to achieve the Christian purpose. I think you are right that vocation and relationship are intertwined, but Arch is right that "relationship" has been over-emphasized (my word) to the detriment of being who God calls us to be.

Failure! Yes! That is it. I feel quite often as if I am a failure because I do not have a weekly morning Bible study at my office which attracts (by my winsome and charismatic Christian character) a wide and varied collection of hungry seeking people. And I sometimes feel like I don't measure up as a Christian because I have not lead anyone to Jesus as a direct outgrowth of my job. (Steve, the way you completed that Excel spreadsheet was so perfect, please, tell me about Christ!) Paint an "L" on my forehead, because I do not have this terrific "ministry" at my job. What am I to do with these feelings, and where did they come from?

As the Christianity Today (CT) article on vocation points out, our work as Believers is not necessarily about being "nice." Gasp! What, we are not to be like Ned Flanders?!! I agree completely with CT that "as good as those things may be, business is fundamentally about serving others." There is a whole topic for another post.

And yet, is it possible to serve others, do my job as best I can, day after day, year after year, and still build something that counts for Kingdom values - even if not one soul sees the Kingdom as a result of my work? I wonder. What do you think?

Faith, Work and Church - The Big Honking Disconnect

My experience of 26 years in Christendom and the protestant church leaves me with the distinct impression that those of us who dwell Monday to Friday in the working world are not understood by many pastors. But this does not mean that others have not considered these issues - I direct you here and here, for starters.

From the Christianity Today article, lets touch on a couple of things. First, pastors and church leaders need to "help business people develop a fundamental understanding of what it means for Christians to engage in business." Wonderful! Some other points, which bear future discussion.

1. I am not supposed to be primary an evangelist at work. Yee-gads, is this true?!!
2. My secular vocation is as noble as those who work in the church.
3. Work is part of the good creation, and deserves the attention of pastors as they contemplate spiritual direction and guidance of their flocks. I would love to know where in the world this is actually happening.
4. If churches are to take the task of connecting the secular and sacred, what should it look like? So, how do we see this actually happening?

Is Secular Work of Real Worth, or Not?

There is an editorial piece in this months Christianity Today that pushes some major buttons for me. Entitled "Neighbor Love, Inc.", the article (not available online yet) is about work; the secular kind, that is. The kind that 99% of the working age folks in the world get out of bed and head off to five days a week. And sadly, the kind of work that a large portion of the clergy has not a clue about.

Here is my dilemma; when each Sunday rolls around, I attend church, and my experience with the Church (in the universal evangelical sense) is that I am left consistently with the impression that what I do as a vocation and, what I believe to be a calling, five days out of most every week hardly ever connects with what I am learning, doing, and experiencing on Sunday. Very little connection what so ever, thank you very much. Its as if the working world speaks English and the church-going world speaks, well, some form of language only understood by drunk Portuguese sailors.

I cannot tell you how many times I have sat through an otherwise average or good sermon, and thought to myself, "the person delivering this message has no idea whatsoever what my Monday to Friday world is like". And, might I ask why the only theme I seem to hear about the working world is a variation on the topic of "Sharing Jesus With your Fellow Employees"? Not that I am against that concept, but hearing it over and over again is like driving a car with only one radio station, when you well know that other people can get XM satellite in their cars.

So why is there this massive disconnect between the secular and the sacred? What is going on here? Why do many evangelicals fail to make a real connection between the working world and the cloistered world of church. More thoughts later, but in the mean time, I am open to suggestions (hint: comments?).

The Blogasmatron

My wife says that I spend too much time on the Internet in the evenings. After I have worked at the office all day, helped get dinner on the table, helped kids with homework, performed various chores, walked the dog, given kids trips around town to multiple random locations and sporting events, etc, etc. She says that I need to spend more time "sharing my feelings" about my day, her day, my life, my future, my feelings, her feelings, my heart, my kidneys, and other major organs. I mean, I don't even usually get a chance to even watch Sports Center, for heavens sake!

So, I have decided that I shall make a small purchase, in order to focus more completely upon my Blogging. To wit, I present, The Oculus, or, as I shall rename my own model, the Blogasmatron. The perfect place to get away in the midst of life and create the thing that really matters more than the people I love; my Blog.

At $45,000, its a deal. If I only had some hair like the guy in the photo.

Remembering the Fallen

Remember.

Mr. Schmitt, Willie Lemon, and Katrina

Today was a remarkable day. The remarkable event took place in church. It was not a stunning sermon, or a remarkable hymn from a large choir, or a massive celebrative service in a stadium church, or just about any of the things we silly self-concerned Christian people associate with greatness, or being on the winning team, or part of the "cool church".

What moved me to tears today was hearing the love of a teacher for his students; a simple love founded out of love for Christ. Students from New Orleans, now scattered about the country by Hurricane Katrina.

Matthew Schmitt, who now lives in LA with his new wife, taught junior high for two years in one of the poorest neighborhoods of New Orleans. Matthew was asked to share with our congregation his journey of sadness, searching, finding, and hope over the past two weeks. Matthew read to us a deeply moving email he had sent to his friends describing the anguish he has felt over the past days, not being able to locate so many of his former students, and the emerging hope he is finding through finally locating students and old friends.

Matthew also brought along two photo albums from his students. Each photo included a note from a student, thanking him for being their teacher. I have never seen anything like it. Let me explain why.

As my Blog title indicates, I live a sheltered life in the suburbs of Los Angeles. We bought our home here because the schools are academically among the top 10% in California. The biggest problem in our junior high typically deals with tardies, bad language, and an occasional troublesome teen. In New Orleans, as in many inner city schools, its an entirely different universe in public education; one of managing deep family problems, coping, chronic under-funding, barely getting by, and daily struggle just to communicate the very essentials to kids. It is hard, very hard to be a teacher, let alone a good teacher.

It seems that Matthew Schmitt made a profound impact on his students, and he will not be quickly forgotten. The photo above is of Willie Lemon, one of Matthews students, and it's theme is in keeping with so many of the notes from Matthew's students. Willie writes:

"I have always tried to get rid of you; but you stuck by my side. You helped me a lot. But I did not know. But now I understand you did everything you can do for me. You have shown me the way."

Matthew Schmitt, be not discouraged. You have performed a noble task. You taught well by the example of your persistence. What you did for two years in New Orleans was not in vain. You have shown the way.

Give.

More on Pastor Mike, receding Water and Hope

We have more information on Canal Street Presbyterian Church, and my old friend, Pastor Mike Hogg. I had a chance to talk with Mike on the phone the other afternoon for about five minutes. He answered me in a whispered voice, and I was immediately concerned he had contracted some form of deadly swamp virus. As it turns out, he was whispering because he was in the library using the internet to return emails.

You can note in the picture to the left, all the dark blue is water (HT to Mark Roberts). Mike and his family are renting a home in Tucson, where the kids are enrolled for the next school year (for now). Their family is fine, given the circumstances. As for their home, it is feared that much of it is a total loss. You can go here to see estimates of current water levels throughout New Orleans; this technology is remarkable.

Pastor Mike has been interviewed by Christianity Today here. Mike is a pastor who understands Hope.

You can help the church here.

Wal Mart and Home Depot Trump FEMA

Over the past several years, Wal Mart has become the whipping boy of the no-growth and slow-growth movement. Never mind that Sam Walton built the model of retailing efficiency, and that today Wal Mart is known as the example of logistical perfection.

But certainly you also know that Wal Mart, Home Depot, and their other large retail friends are, in actuality, evil incarnate. Also (he said breathlessly) that they are part of an nasty capitalistic conspiracy to dominate the lives of us all? In a nearby town to our house, Wal Mart has been trying for years to build a new store on the site of a tired old nursery that is an eyesore. But the residents of the local community would prefer the sad old nursery to a new Wal Mart in which they could buy kitty litter far cheaper than just about anyplace in town.

But wait. If I read this correctly, it turns out that these private companies have become the major saviors of the disastrous aftermath of Katrina. Home Depot, WalMart, Black & Decker. So then, private companies can actually add something to the world that is positive? Is this possible? How shocking!

Intelligent Design and Unintelligent Comments

Daniel Schorr almost made me drive my car off the road again recently. His thoughts on Intelligent Design seemed to me to be angry, vindictive, and without any form of theological reflection. The undertone of his comments about Christian folk felt condescending, patronizing, and simply annoying. More of the same from the main stream press.

Now, a quick look on the web indicates that Mr. Schorr is now 89 years old, and has had a remarkable and distinguished career in journalism. He brought us much of the Watergate story, and did the first interview with Nikita Khrushchev. However, a remarkable career in journalism does not excuse grandpa from saying silly things. I have told my girls that when and if I reach my 80's, that if I begin acting like a cranky old guy or start spouting off completely silly things, they have complete release to thonk me on the upside the head. Mr. Schorr's smug attitude about crucial world-view topics is frustrating to me, he needs thonking.

Mr. Schorr observed that President Bush had "staked out a non-position" on the debate between evolution and intelligent design. Bush had said that "both sides ought to be properly taught in the schools of America." Then, with a snide tone that came right through my car speakers, Mr. Schorr linked the devastation of Hurricane Katrina with the concept of intelligent design with the following invective:

"[Bush] might well have reflected that, if (hurricane Katrina) was the result of intelligent design, then the Designer has something to answer for."

Alright now. This is shallow thought, and NPR can do much better than letting their "very senior correspondent" hall off on topics like this whenever he likes. While I do not pretend to be an apologist for Ats of God, I also understand enough of the mystery of God not to tell Him that He has "something to answer for".

I would direct Mr. Schorr (who comes from the Jewish tradition) to Job 38. To me, it is sad that a fine man who has a remarkable career as a journalist should conclude that God is in big trouble with us humans because he has misbehaved. This indicates a complete misunderstanding of the order of God's creation. I would also direct Mr. Schoor here and here; for two separate deep and thoughtful responses to the calamities of life that are far more than I am capable of conjuring up here.

Pastor Mike, The Diaspora, and The Body

About 15 years ago, as my wife and I were newlyweds, we had the blessing of being involved in a couples small group through our church. As a part of this, we met a wonderful couple - Mike and Christina Hogg. They became our good friends, and I still remember the way in which they approached all of life with joy and good humor - and most importantly, with a focus on the Kingdom of God. Mike was finishing up his studies at Fuller Seminary, and Christina was spending much of her time looking after their 2 young children.

Since that time, Mike has spent time as an Assistant Pastor at another church in the New Orleans area, and more recently, was called as the Senior Pastor of Canal Street Presbyterian Church. We have kept in touch mainly through Christmas cards and seldom placed phone calls (mostly from Mike to us - pictured above with the very snazzy vestiments). Over time each of our families has grown; ours from two to four and the Hoggs from four to SEVEN (count 'em).

To this day, I will never forget dropping in on a preaching class at Fuller, the day Mike was to deliver a sermon. His text was this, and to be frank, I cannot remember much of the sermon but Mike's conclusion. When he finished, he looked at us all and said, "Indeed....................................what kind of man................is this" - with the pauses caused by Mike's inability to speak due to the tears he was trying to hold back. In short, my friend Mike loves Christ deeply; he felt this sermon in his soul.

I did some messing around tonight Google Earth, and found exactly the location of Mike & Christina's home and Canal Street Presbyterian Church. Mike lives very close to his church. Since I am a commercial real estate guy, I have reviewed this image and compared it with those found at Digitalglobe, and it is difficult to say, but it looks like there is a lot of water in the neighborhood.

But perhaps I should let Mike speak for himself. My favorite bits:

"YOU ALL ARE CONSTANTLY IN OUR PRAYERS...,not a minute goes by without our thinking of you all.

I THINK YOU ALL KNOW THIS, but let's agree together that the Lord is indeed going to get us through this...,together. We may not know the how's and when's, but by the end of this whole experience, the testimonies of God's goodness will outweigh the tradgedies by far..., not because of who we are, but because of who God is!!

I HATED TO MOVE SO FAR FROM THE SCENE OF THE CRIME, but it seems best for our fam. and us as C's family releives some of our stress. For the most part, it will not matter where we are geographically at least for the first few weeks? as I mostly coordinate/communicate by e-mail and phone...., I will be back in as soon as the city opens up and will be available to travel as needed..., if the diaspora of CSPC continues to reside grouped in various cities throughout the US, I will make the rounds to see you. I hope Wayne Smith can go with me, at least then it will feel like a rock tour.

Anyway, we are fine, kids are good, keep them in prayer as we lost rabbits, iguana, "cheesecake" (hamster) and had to put the dog asleep on the way out here.., we still have a cat, but he's got a worried look on his face! OFFERS are pouring in from the body of Christ around the country. Homes, offers of finances, clothes, equipment, groups wanting to come in when the rebuilding and clean-up begins...., YOU ALL NEED TO KNOW that people who don't even know you want to help!

The message to you is this, you don't have to do it on your own..., lean on the body of Christ, learn the gift of receiving.., it is the glory of God revealed through his body!

WE ARE A BLESSED PEOPLE..., the generosity of people is more awe inspiring than the greatest storm. Never doubt that this is a great country, and we have an awesome God. Lift our church, city, and national leaders in prayer, refuse to join in on pessimistic finger pointing, continue to pray for unity of our city and country, pray that the end result of this disater will be a glowing city on a swamp, known for it's faith in a God who reconciles and rebuilds even New Orleans!!"

Amen.

Hope, A Lever, and Persistence

This has been one of the most remarkable weeks in American history. We have watched awestruck at the tragic aftermath of Katrina, feeling helpless, feeling weak and small and powerless. Add to this the death of a remarkable Supreme Court Chief Justice William Rehnquist. Yet in the midst of confusion, pain, suffering, and loss, there is now Hope.

I have learned more of my friend, Pastor Mike. He is now in Tucson with family, and will likely be heading back to New Orleans as soon as is practical. When I hear from Mike you will too. The effort is underway for his church, and you can give, right here. Click the Paypal button.

My friend Mark Roberts has spoken with Mike this week, and was impressed. Mike really just wanted to talk about the church's opportunity for ministry in the city, even though their church itself may be severely damaged, even though his own home may be destroyed. Selfless, caring for others, looking for hope. That is what Mike is like. I am blessed to know him.

Now lets see if we can do two things. First, lets make a gigantic lever. Those of you who were not asleep during high school physics class will remember that... "it is possible, as a result, to overcome a very large force at a short distance from the fulcrum with a very small force at a great distance from the fulcrum. Archimedes is supposed to have boasted, having the lever in mind, that given a place to stand he could move the world." And so it is, that those of us many miles from the Gulf Coast can apply our leverage to move things a great distance away. Lets give, and pray, and most of all, persist.

As a nation, we seem to have the attention span of a knat, or perhaps on our best days that of a hummingbird. Fashion tastes only last for a season, the initial run for a TV show is 13 weeks, and fast food is our nourishment. This challenge will require real persistence. To persist is to 1) to be obstinately repetitious, insistent, or tenacious. We must all persist in this effort. Together.

This effort is going to take weeks to dry out, months to repair and replace, and years to rebuild. We have the Hope, we have a great Lever, we must have Persistence. With these tools, we can move mountains, and again, hold back the waters.

Help is on the Way & My Closet

The news is getting better in terms of immediate panic and general chaos in New Orleans and other parts of the south. Lets keep praying, and giving.

Right now, there are the sounds of paper bags being filled down the hall, as all of the closets in our house are becoming a bit less stuffed.

We just got a call from our good neighbor up the street, and believe it or not, she has a friend with a big rig truck. This fine man, who I do not know, has decided he is going to fill his truck full of whatever people in our area can bring (food, toys, clothes), and he is heading east tomorrow on I-10 to New Orleans, or Mississippi, or where ever the need is greatest.

My closet suddenly has more room. I have never met this truck-driving man, but I love him, and our family wishes him God Speed. Just imagine if every block in America did this. And, might I add, the blogosphere is getting it too.

Imagine this also. What if everyblock in America could give consistently like this, each time there was a need. Imagine it. My closet suddenly has more room, now I need to work a bit on making my wallet a bit more empty too!

Peggy Noonan Sums It All Up

Given the events of the last four days, this is completely worth your time.

Some Reporters Love Bad News

I just headed upstairs for a second to watch the news with my wife. The news is not good from New Orleans, and so, I direct you to this. Give, and give again! This is an opportunity for us to really show what the American people are made of.

After just five minutes of the news, I had to leave the room. Keith Olbermann was on MSNBC spouting with lead-in phrases like "hell" and "anarchy". Now, mind you, friends of mine like Mike Hogg will very likely have stories of near hell on earth, and conditions are terrible. But I am also very tired of news people who seems to feed on either disaster or doom. I watched a reporter in New Orleans, during the hurricane, get blown to the ground repeatedly, exposing himself and others to great risk of life and limb (I fully expected to see a STOP sign come flying horizontally down the street and decapitate the poor fool/reporter) so he could, I guess, show us that it was really windy and rainy. Now, is this....news?

Here is something you should read about the way the press is choosing to handle this situation. And here is a balm for your soul, if all the main stream media dramatists have you down. Oh, and blogs are not all bad, after all (go look, its neat). And what should our spiritual perspective be on all this? Try looking here.

Shall I repeat myself? Ok. Give.

WWJD about Katrina?

Imagine your life being swept away. Imagine nothing left. Imagine some of your things left, some it floating down the street, rendered completely useless by water damage. Water that stinks of sewage. Miles and miles of water, water that will soon be full of potential diseases. Water that will take days to recede. Family members or friend swept away in the wind and rain.

We have friends in New Orleans. We can't reach them on the phone, and email doesn't work. (Pastor) Mike and Christina Hogg are ok though, we received a phone message today indicating briefly that their family is ok. But their home, and their church are another matter. Very likely under water right now. Pray!

President Bushes remarks to the nation today included this:

"I also want to thank the American Red Cross and the Salvation Army and the Catholic Charities, and all other members of the armies of compassion. I think the folks in the affected areas are going to be overwhelmed when they realize how many Americans want to help them. At this stage in the recovery efforts, it's important for those who want to contribute, to contribute cash. You can contribute cash to a charity of your choice, but make sure you designate that gift for hurricane relief. You can call 1-800-HELPNOW, or you can get on the Red Cross web page, RedCross.org. The Red Cross needs our help. I urge our fellow citizens to contribute. The folks on the Gulf Coast are going to need the help of this country for a long time. This is going to be a difficult road. The challenges that we face on the ground are unprecedented. But there's no doubt in my mind we're going to succeed. Right now the days seem awfully dark for those affected -- I understand that. But I'm confident that, with time, you can get your life back in order, new communities will flourish, the great city of New Orleans will be back on its feet, and America will be a stronger place for it. The country stands with you. We'll do all in our power to help you. May God bless you."

Ok, here are some resources:

Salvation Army

Red Cross

America's Second Harvest

Catholic Charities

Samaritan's Purse

What do you think Jesus would do?

Katrina - Two Things

When one listens to the news, hears the stories, and sees the devastation, there are two primary reactions:

1. 1. Pray

1. 2. Give

Girls Scouts Join the Chorus of Mediocrity

Megan Cox Gurdon of NRO nailed this.

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...