Recently Rob Bell was interviewed in CT – and shared a theology to which I wholly subscribe, although I am not a theologian.One comment in the article is that Mr. Bell is reframing the gospel in North America for the last couple of hundred years, with many of his comments contained within his new book Jesus Wants to Save Christians.I might just have to buy this book.
“The story (of the Scripture) is about God’s intentions to bring about a new heaven and a new earth, and the story begins here with shalom – shalom between each other and with our Maker and with the earth.The story line is that God intends to bring about a new creation, this place, this new heaven and earth here.And that Jesus’ resurrection is the beginning, essentially, of the future; this great Resurrection has rushed into the present.
The evacuation theology that says, “figure out the ticket, say the right prayer, get the right formula, and then we’ll go somewhere else” is lethal to Jesus, who endlessly speaks of the renewal of all things.”
Evacuation! I like this A LOT.
First, Mr. Bell is echoing N.T. Wright in many of his recent books in terms of “the Kingdom being at hand”.Second, I have to confess that I have been a subtle victim of this “evacuation theology” that has turned the church into a sometimes strange fortress against, rather than for, and involved with the world.
And finally, I am touched by Mr. Bell’s use of the present tense to describe Jesus’ words – note above that it is “endlessly speaks” that is used, rather than something like “spoke”.Imagine that, a resurrected Christ, one who still speaks.
I hardly ever talk about my work here on the blog. But today, something fascinating happened. I was allowed on a private tour (along with other real estate professionals), to the very top of Freedom Tower 7 - at the World Trade Center.
Above is the view from from the top floor of Freedom Tower 7 in New York. The first phase of the rebuild of the World Trade Center.
Racing Forward My mind had been engrossed in my work for the past several hours, and the earth had not waited for me, turning on its axis without my permission. Time rushing forward.
I walked into the parking lot next to a rush-hour street, above me hung a sublime golden twilight sky - the few wisps of white clouds looked like the perfect brush strokes of a master, painted with ease and perfection. Creation shouting, if I would but listen. The cars continued to rush by, and I was aware of a sense of timelessness, even in the midst of this busy commuter evening.
I got in my car, backed out of the parking space, and began the trip home. It was not two blocks away, when stopped at a busy intersection, I was presented with a visual, living reminder of the fleeting, struggling nature of this life we all lead.
Struggling Home To my left, out of the car window, was an elderly man, towing behind him a small shopping cart. He was not on the sidewalk, but moving diagonally through the gas station on the corner. He was not moving easily, not at all. Not really walking, more like shuffling, very very slowly. It was as if he was existing in a time warp that was 1/5th that of everything around him. Going 15, in a world of 75 miles per hour.
The most striking feature, and the image that is burned in my memory now, was his posture. Or perhaps the complete lack of it. In fact, his body was almost completely bent over to the point where he did not look forward as he shuffled; rather, due to age, or time, or pain, or maybe disappointment, he looked down, directly at his feet. He moved so slowly, never looking up, towing his little cart of groceries.
Hurry up, little old man. Get out of that gas station parking lot, before someone honks at you, and scares the daylights out of you.
Time seemed to stand still just then. My mind filled with all sorts of thoughts, sitting at the traffic light, under that early evening sky:
Who was this old man? Where was he going, and would he get home safely? How much farther did he have to shuffle to be safe at home? Did he have family? Did they know if he was ok? Where had he been in life? And what physical ailments, or emotional burdens had reduced him to this slow plodding shuffle?
And then, the light changed.
I eased forward, heading home. The old man continued his slow plod, in the opposite direction as me, receding in my side-view mirror.
I hope he did not have far to go. To get home. And as I moved on, the sky above this little scene glowed a brilliant orange and red that brought tears to my eyes.
Fitting It Together The writer and philosopher Laurens van der Post, in his memoir of his friendship with Carl Jung, said, "We live not only our own lives but, whether we know it or not, also the life of our time." We are actors in a moment of history, taking part in it, moving it this way or that as we move forward or back. The moment we are living now is a strange one, a disquieting one, a time that seems full of endings."
I agree. Over the past several months, we have witnessed the sadness and loss of the death of two very dear friends. Two really wonderful men; one, Jim, passing far too early in life, from cancer. In his early 60's with way too much life left to live. Another friend, Frank, in his 80's, after a battle with Lou Gehrig's Disease that left him comatose for months, but still alive.
How might can I fit together these deaths, that struggling gas station man, and that stunning sunset together?
I am not sure how it all fits, other than to say that there is a form of great and tragic, wonderful and ominous orchestration going on around me, every day, if I would but take the time to see it all.
And, if I am a part of this symphony of life, may I play a joyous, hopeful, and comforting part.
I stumbled upon a web site that is helpful for all of us Christ - follower types. It goes by the simple name of "Sorry" in banner links from other websites, and I might add it to my links. I think I will find it good for me to read from time to time. Maybe more often than that.
We Christian folk have done a lot of damage to people, and for that, I am very sorry.
Some apologies from the site that were meaningful to me:
I have been critical and expected you to live according to my expectations. I am sorry. -- Patsy
I am sorry that so often the church has twisted Jesus' message to exclude rather than include people. --Sally
I'm sorry that so many acts of kindness we bestowed upon you had strings attached. --Lee
I'm sorry that I joined with the multitude of Christians who were known by what (who) they are against, rather than what (who) they are for. That’s judgment, not grace! --Glenn
I am sorry that I ran off my mouth instead of just listening to you. --JP
For those of you who bothered to read up on Jesus, I know you read the wonderful stories about people flocking to Him and finding love. Or finding a miracle and you hoped that if you came to church you’d get some too. So you came with that last ember cupped in your hands, coming to find the God you’d read about and the love, treasure and the miracle. We stomped on it. I am mortified that we took your last hope and extinguished it. Lord have mercy. I am so sorry. --Sonja
I am sorry too. Sorry for the life I have lead thus far, ensconced in the little Christian social bubble I have built around me. About not seeking out people in my life, and just loving them, without an agenda. For not listening, for being self absorbed. I am sorry for the gigantic undercurrent of Christian folk in this country that have created a consumer culture that rivals that of WalMart, instead of really loving people till it hurts, and making disciples of Jesus.
I am sorry for the shallowness of my faith, and for ignoring the depth of pain and questioning in the lives of those around me.
I am really sorry for judging those around me, just because they don't go to church every Sunday like me.
It's Lent, and so, a season to reflect on the end of Jesus' life.
They were sitting around a fire. Sort of like a campfire. It was the final night of Jesus' life.
And Peter was there. You know, The Rock of the Church, and the thoroughly ordinary, all in one. He was by that campfire too. Eyes nervously darting around. Not willing to look anyone in the face, at least for very long, for fear the expression on his own face might give away the feelings that were churning around inside him. Much like those feelings that swirl around inside us all at times, when we know we have been self-absorbed, let others down, lied, or acted like a fool with people we love. I do those things lots.
That Peter. Like me. The one that denied Christ three times. The one who was a general disappointment.
The other day, I came across this, from the Gospel of Luke:
60Peter replied, "Man, I don't know what you're talking about!" Just as he was speaking, the rooster crowed. 61The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him: "Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times." 62And he went outside and wept bitterly.
I am familiar with this story, and have read it many times, and skipped right over one little piece - right there, in the middle.
"The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter."
I have been stuck there now, thinking about that look, for several days.
What was in that look; how would his gaze have looked to me? Could I have sensed what he was thinking? How would it have made me feel; would I have felt the warmth coming to my face, if I had received that gaze from him?
I asked a very wise theologian about that look, just the other day. His response was, "I would like to think that look was the same look on the face of the Father in the prodigal son story." Perhaps.
Then I wondered if there might have been something else in that look; very different emotions that we have heard about Jesus that put us more on edge. Like the time he got fed up with smart guys. And probably with humanity a little too, perhaps. He got mad on occasion, that Jesus. And then I asked my wife what she thought of that look. Her response was similar to my own thoughts. "Maybe that look was full of a thousand different emotions". Exactly. Sadness, regret, understanding, empathy, frustration, anger, resignation, pity. How many human emotions are there? So many were likely contained in that look.
So, I am back to thinking about Peter, and what made him sit by that fire, and what made him deny the most important relationship in his young life. And I am back to that look. I think I have an Inner Peter.
I was born I was born to be with you In this space and time After that and ever after I haven't had a clue Only to break rhyme This foolishness can leave a heart black and blue
Only love, only love can leave such a mark But only love, only love can heal such a scar
I was born I was born to sing for you I didn't have a choice but to lift you up And sing whatever song you wanted me to I give you back my voice From the womb my first cry, it was a joyful noise...
Only love, only love can leave such a mark But only love, only love can heal such a scar
Justified till we die, you and I will magnify The Magnificent Magnificent
Only love, only love can leave such a mark But only love, only love unites our hearts
Justified till we die, you and I will magnify The Magnificent Magnificent Magnificent
The view of the Lincoln Park zoo and Hancock building from our hotel; we are 5 minutes by car (and 20 minutes if you want to walk in this weather) from the DePaul campus.
Famous Kelly line several weeks ago, when discussing DePaul University's location in Chicago: "Wait, Chicago is near water? What?"
So much for high school geography. Our public schools are flawless.
Fun times, waiting an extra hour for your flight. Note approaching plane outside window. Luckily, it stopped prior to thonking Kelly in the, um, back end.
After several of my friends tagged me for the 25 things, I am relenting, and posting my 25 things. Unfortunately, as I am a somewhat dull fellow, I should only really post about 12 things. If you suffer from sleep disorders, read this, and you will very likely be snoring by #5.
There is some unwritten rule that you have to tag 25 other people, and coerce, shame, or somehow force them to write their own 25 things. I have no intention of doing that. But I have tagged some of you....not that it means anything, mind you.
So, here goes, Steve's Amazingly Mundane 25 Things...in no particular order:
1. I share the same birthday (not year) as both Lionel Richie and Brian Wilson. I am sure this has deep meaning. Michael Jackson and I are almost the same age, having missed each other's birthdays by a matter of weeks. Again, profound hidden meaning here. Its up to you to interpret.
2. I am an only child. My Mom used to tell a story that when I was 3 or 4 years old, I would sit next to a little hole in the wooden fence of our neighbors yard, put my eye up to the hole, and call out for the little girl (same age) next door to come and play. Is that sad or what? Don't worry, my story gets better.
3. If left alone on a desert island, and only allowed one type of food, it would be the In N' Out menu. Manna from God, as far as I am concerned. Call me shallow.
4. Many years ago, I smuggled Bibles into the former Eastern Block. On multiple occasions. It was scary, and hysterical, and amazing. It changed my life forever, and I am not kidding.
5. My Dad was a B-17 bomber pilot during World War II. I am very proud of this, and of my Dad, for his service to our Country.
6. I have a lifelong fear of grasshoppers. Ask my daughters about this; it a source of humor for them.
7. If I could have one job other than the one I have (which I love, and am very thankful for) it would be as a Boeing 747 captain. But only for a year or so, I think it might get boring after a while, and the staying in hotels and airport food would soon loose its glamor.
8. I am an early adapter. Cell phones, computer stuff, solar power. I love technology.
9. The older I get, the less I know for sure, but the deeper my faith feels to me.
10. I enjoy just about all kinds of music, but I find my tastes changing over time. Right now, I am rediscovering Stevie Wonder, I love anything John Rutter rights or conducts, and I just love going to Disney Hall for classical concerts.
11. I once blew out my knee in a burger restaurant, slipping on a lump of guacamole that had been spilled on the floor. Its true. Pathetic, but true. I would have like to have been able to say I was saving a drowning child or something noble. But no. Such is my life.
12. My last two years at college I had a press pass to all the football and basketball games. I took photos for UCLA right on the field / court. It was very cool. I nearly got killed in a couple of sideline tackles and full court break-aways.
13. While we are on college, after my freshman year, I had the best job in the world (save for the pay), or so I thought. Summer of 1977. I was in charge of the golf carts at the Rivera Country Club. I used to hang with Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr., Bill Cosby, and Glen Campbell. Really, they were nice guys. I could play all the golf I wanted, every day, after 4PM, AND bring a friend for free. I once shot an 84 at Riviera. I have a witness.
14. I have been to Fairbanks, Alaska for work. Everything about Alaska is completely overwhelming, and awe inspiring. God definitely out did himself when He created Alaska.
15. I received fuzzy Crocs for Christmas from my family this year. My daughters are horrified at the thought of me wearing them in public. To them, its worse than wearing sandals and dark socks.
16. I used to be the little bartender for my parents house parties when I was growing up. I would wear a little vest and dress slacks. It was frightening.
17. Only children almost always still give me the creeps. I think that is related to Number 16.
18. I have witnessed a night time Space Shuttle launch. The closest they let you get to the launch pad is something like 3 or 5 miles away, and the violence of the liftoff ignition still (from that far away!) literally thumps against your chest. Words cannot describe the visual, physical, and emotional sensation of it. Ask someone who has seen one. It defies description.
19. My greatest living hero is John Wooden. I have a basketball signed by him in my house.
20. I cannot understand how anyone can travel on a commercial flight without getting a window seat. I mean, you get to FLY! And all the stuff God made, it's right there outside the window....to see! Even if its cloudy below, the view, people!
21. I never in my wildest dreams thought I would be the Dad of the two amazing daughters that live at our house (for only a bit longer now). And I never thought I would be married to such a total babe as my wife. I love you Nance!
22. I am a crappy skier. Its just not in my genes.
23. I did not try sushi until I was about 35 years old. Previously, I had thought, "Ew, raw fish". Now, I think, "Ew, stupid me." I lead a sheltered life. And, as you can see, I am running out of steam here.
24. James Taylor is amazing. He could sing the phone book, and I would be happy. I know, I am SO middle-aged. Deal with it.
25. Like my friend, Nate, I often doubt myself, feel insecure, wonder about why bad things happen to good people, cry over suffering, get needlessly angry at little things, say insensitive things to people I love, and worry that I am gradually becoming a grumpy old guy like my Dad. But then, I remember that my life is not my own, that I have been miraculously redeemed, and that God loves me more than I will ever know. Its times like these that I am reminded of my favorite verses from the Scriptures, from II Corinthians 12:
"My grace is enough; it's all you need. My strength comes into its own in your weakness. Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ's strength moving in on my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size—abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become."
I have been doing some Internet reading recently, and it seems that not all in the world of evangelicalism is bright and sunny. Storm clouds are on the horizon - an ominous change of sorts. Massive climatic change in the happy world of American evangelicals might be underway. Good bye Dr. Dobson, southern mega-churches, and blue-haired people on cable TV. Hello ambiguity.
Everything might be falling apart, and it feels somewhat scary, but at the same time exciting and hopeful. This change could all be very good.
My thinking began to get started after reading this, followed by this, and then this. Seems, if we believe only half of what Michael is writing about, there is some serious change on the horizon. And then, if you want to be further depressed by the future, take a look at this one.
Seems a bleak outlook. I am hopeful. This might drive us Jesus Believers to a much better place, in the long run. Here is something to think about:
Recently, I began some thoughts about our the alone-ness of our culture, and how we in the church seem to do only marginally less poorly than the rest of society at forming meaningful relationships.
This is all quite bothering to me. Really.
My observation, after more than 25 years in the Christian culture (Southern California - which may be more liberal than other parts of the country), is that once a person comes to a saving knowledge of Christ, they tend to unintentionally cloister themselves from the rest of society. They also isolate themselves somewhat from relationships, both with the greater non-believing world around them, and even within the church, to some extent. Being with unbelieving people is seen as somehow, well, slightly sinful; and sharing too much of yourself with those inside the church, can be, well, embarrassing.
This is why I would not at all be surprised to find the the statistics of the GSS to be even more skewed toward isolation, if a separate measurement were taken within the church. (If you know of any such studies, will you please let me know?!). I hope I am wrong, but I doubt it.
The Need Unmet It seems to me there is a vast, gaping, unmet need in the world around us. Quite simple, it is the need for friends. Friends. Who will sit with us when we hurt, listen when we have deep questions, laugh with us when we are joyous, weep with us when we mourn, and wait for us when we are distant and difficult.
Will those in the church do this? I wonder.
The Visualization Recent, I came upon a stunning choral arrangement of Samuel Barber's "Agnus Dei". I am not sure why I am sharing it here, other than to offer that this piece offers both a glimpse of the suffering and need for redemption of us all, and also the beauty that can emerge from many offering their gifts as one - one choir.
Church people, do we have this in us? The gift of friendship; of working together to create something truly Beautiful? Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccáta mundi, miserére nobis. Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world: have mercy on us. Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccáta mundi, miserére nobis. Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world: have mercy on us. Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccáta mundi, dona nobis pacem. Lamb of God, you take away the sin of the world: grant us peace.
The lovely lady on the right of this photo with our President is Megan Handley, a Fuller Seminary student, and great friend of ours. She knew Obama before he was famous. We did not.
During Advent, Megan delivered a wonderful homily at our Wednesday night Advent Service at our church.
You can listen to her homily by clicking on the post headline above, or here. This will take you to the file location.
One warning - due to some kind of technological sound recording boo-boo-thingie, the homily does not begin until 2:24 seconds into the sound track. If you like, you can enjoy those moments as silent reflection. Enjoy!
We think we have lots of friends. We have Facebook, Twitter, MySpace, blogs, email, text messages galore.
But not really.
In reality we are....alone, disconnected, disjointed, and often bereft of friends. We Americans are pretty much lonely, and in many cases essentially alone. Solitary souls, often living our lives without meaningful relationships. It is getting worse, not better, as time marches on.
As support for this depressing concept, recently I came upon an article that is almost three years old in the Washington Post, and then found the original study upon which it is based here.
In 1985, the General Social Survey (GSS) collected the first nationally representative data on the confidants with whom Americans discuss important matters. In the 2004 GSS the authors replicated those questions to assess social change in core network structures. The number of people sayingthere is no one with whom they discuss important matters nearly tripled. The meannetwork size decreases by about a third (one confidant), from 2.94 in 1985 to 2.08 in2004. The modal respondent now reports having no confidant; the modal respondent in1985 had three confidants. Both kin and non-kin confidants were lost in the past twodecades, but the greater decrease of non-kin ties leads to more confidant networkscentered on spouses and parents, with fewer contacts through voluntary associations and neighborhoods. Most people have densely interconnected confidants similar to them.
I really wonder if we church folk understand this. It has been my experience over the past 20 years or so that we in the church are, at our best, only marginally better than everyone else at staying connected, at having relationships that really matter.
This idea has recently come to me, in thinking about the way that we "do church" in our own church home, that we are ill connected, and our relationships suffer as a result.
And yet, we Believing People advertise ourselves as those who have seen a Great Light, and posssess, and can offer a better way to live life. Is this really true?
How do we get this right? Can we lead Kingdom inspired lives?
"I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character."
Yesterday, my wife and I had the privilege of sharing lunch with friends, Dale and Kathy Bruner, at their home. We have had the honor of listening to Dale teach each Sunday, almost nine months out of the year here. His thoughts and translations of Scripture have had a profound affect on me over the years.
After lunch we sat and caught up on our lives, along with another couple we have shared friendship with for the past 20 years. New marriages getting started, children being born, changing and growing, laughter and tears, many years of memories. Dale told stories of his cross country car trips to Princeton seminary, the struggles of raising kids, and their time together as Dale served as a missionary seminary professor in the Philippines, and the joys of grandchildren.
As the conversation continued, Dale mentioned that, more than 30 years ago, he was given the opportunity, by the University Librarian of Gonzaga University in Spokane, to examine, and actually turn the pages of the Codex Vaticanus, one of the oldest and most valuable extant manuscripts of the Greek Bible. The idea of touching a document more than 1,600 years old fascinated me. Imagine, holding a form of Divine history in your hands.
Dale (an accomplished Greek scholar, as well) explained that while looking through the Codex, he thought he should write something down, as he would likely never see this document again. He turned to the section for Matthew 28:6, the proclamation of the empty tomb, and made careful notes. He has committed the Greek from the Codex to memory, and so, I asked Dale to write down for me the direct Greek to English translation of this verse:
"Not is here, raised you see"
And then Dale looked at us and said, "You know, I think these words are the most important that have been uttered, and written, in all of history".
I had lunch today with my old friend Rob, who sent me this video. Although its slightly painful to give credit to a Trojan, Pete Carroll is a man of great character. Enjoy this:
Over the past couple of days, I have stumbled upon a couple of bits of information that seem to connect together. I thought I might share this with you, my faithful 12 consistent readers (including the bored night watchman in the office building in Fargo).
Also, click on the photo above; this is a real church.
Staying in a Sick Church First, my friend Mark Roberts links to an interesting article about the merits of staying in a church that is not doing so well. In a Christianity Today article, issues of staying in a troubled denomination are discussed. This is something I have been thinking about for a long time now. We have chosen to stay, in a church that has gone from sick to much better, but still in need of ongoing, patient care and continued healing. We have chosen not to do the easy thing and leave. It has not been all fun and happy shiny times, but God has been present in it all.
Staying in an Empty Church And yesterday, whilst visiting Starbucks on my way to work, I spotted this article, about a congregation of Catholics near Boston, who have been sleeping in their church for over four years, in defiance of the Catholic Archdiocese. Their sense of community and connection to one another is moving, in spite of the seeming futility of their actions. They are practicing acts of faith, daily.
Take a moment and look here, to witness a moving slide show of the faith of these earnest folks.
It seems to me, that in the midst of these varied but similar situations, in the midst of the uncertainties of faith, God is present. What do you think?
Dear brothers and sisters, today, “the grace of God our Saviour has appeared” (cf. Tit 2:11) in this world of ours, with all its potential and its frailty, its advances and crises, its hopes and travails. Today, there shines forth the light of Jesus Christ, the Son of the Most High and the son of the Virgin Mary: “God from God, light from light, true God from true God. For us men, and for our salvation, he came down from heaven”. Let us adore him, this very day, in every corner of the world, wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a lowly manger. Let us adore him in silence, while he, still a mere infant, seems to comfort us by saying: Do not be afraid, “I am God, and there is no other” (Is 45:22). Come to me, men and women, peoples and nations, come to me. Do not be afraid: I have come to bring you the love of the Father, and to show you the way of peace.
Let us go, then, brothers and sisters! Let us make haste, like the shepherds on that Bethlehem night. God has come to meet us; he has shown us his face, full of grace and mercy! May his coming to us not be in vain! Let us seek Jesus, let us be drawn to his light which dispels sadness and fear from every human heart. Let us draw near to him with confidence, and bow down in humility to adore him. Merry Christmas to all!
I am not big on most contemporary Christian music. Perhaps its because I feel following Jesus is much more beautiful, troublesome, ridiculous, and sublime than obvious, and very hard to condense into music.
There is one middle-aged fellow I have liked for about oh, 30-some years. His name is Bob Bennett. I am amazed at the creative process of song writing, and as it turns out, this song is just a new-born baby, being written and recorded during the last month.
For a listen to this new song, a gift for us at Advent, go here. Wait for it to load. Countless witnesses In a Christmas sky See the Architect of Everything Passing by From deep Heaven to Earth By a virgin Birth Sing a Carol of the Moon and Stars
Which light in the sky Will stargazers see, Bright as sun on the Sea ... of Tranquility? Across black volcanic sand Shells scattered by His hand Sing a Carol of the Moon and Stars
Look up! The scientist and poet open-jawed Look up! See the chaos and precision ... Of the Living God All creation is upheld, And through time propelled, Sings a Carol of the Moon and Stars
Each miracle nativity, Such a common sight Like the sky drowned out By man made light Would that every child born Be as welcome as a Christmas morn To sing a Carol of the Moon and Stars
Oh God, it is my blessing And my constant curse To live as though I am My own universe But if You should be so kind To illuminate my heart and mind I'd sing a Carol of the Moon and Stars
With two teenage girls, this has been a year full of life in our home, and as is our custom, we wanted to take this a few moments to keep you up to date on our lives this past year.Also, in keeping with the gift of the Christ child, we would like to offer, in your honor, a blessing for others less fortunate, in the form of a gift.
Kelly is now pushing hard on 18 years old, and is in the midst of college applications.The last year has been amazing.It’s exhausting just replaying it in our minds.Try this out for size:JV water polo, SAT preparation, “hanging with friends”, finishing a great junior year at South Pasadena high, work at the Rose Bowl Aquatic center teaching swimming to pre-schoolers, a trip to London and Paris with the family, then a week later, BACK through London on the way to (yes, it’s true) Albania for a two week summer mission trip.Kelly’s college preferences are mostly east of the Mississippi River, and we look forward to seeing how it all works out!
Heather is now almost 15, and is in her first year at Flintridge Sacred Heart Academy.She is loving her new school setting, and as is typical with Heather, jumping into her new surroundings with both feet.Thus far, she is on the JV soccer team, and busy nearly all her free time with the homework of a rigorous academy schedule.She did take time out in October for the Father Daughter Dinner Dance, a tradition each year at her school.For most high school girls, this event might have the potential to be massively embarrassing; something on the scale of Cinderella goes to the Ball with Quasimodo. But not at this school, and not these girls. This was an evening of unbridled fun; dinner, conversation, and of course, dancing; a study in unbridled joy.However, we can still report that Dad is a pathetic dancer.Some things never change.
Nancy continues a life that is a study in care for others.Besides being a great Mom and wife, she will be spending a significant portion of 2009 involved in a committee that will search for a new senior pastor for our church.We are hopeful and expectant to see what God will do.Pray for Nancy and her seven friends on this committee, will you?We thankfully celebrated 20 years of marriage in October of this year by hiking the Mist Trail in Yosemite Valley, and look forward to another 20 years on our journey together.
August found the four of us on a long dreamed-of vacation to both London and Paris.We can report that there is nothing like visiting these two historic and romantic cities in the company of teenage girls.In London it was the Tower of London, Churchill’s underground War Rooms, St. Paul’s Cathedral, the London Eye, Buckingham Palace, Windsor Castle (our favorite!), and even a visit to the British War Museum for Dad (by himself, for some “guy time”!).We even caught an evening play of “The Sound of Music”.Then on to Paris where we picnicked on the Champs De Mars at dusk “Twinkle Time” for the Eiffel Tower, visited Versailles (and the massive crowds therein), the Latin Quarter and Notre Dame (ask us how to get in without waiting in line!).A once in a lifetime journey for us all.We came home thankful, and hopefully a bit more cultured.
In the midst of our busy and happy year, we remain mindful that this has not necessarily a year of pure happiness for many.Many of you who are dear to us have faced illness, sadness, loss of jobs, and maybe even fear of the future.Life is like that, just plain scary sometimes.Maybe it feels like your Christmas stocking is empty.Once upon a midnight clear, there was a child's cry, a blazing star hung over a stable, and wise men came with birthday gifts. We haven't forgotten that night down the centuries. We celebrate it with stars on Christmas trees, with the sound of bells, lights, TV Specials, and with gifts.
All the stockings are filled, all that is, except one. And we have even forgotten to hang it up. The stocking for that amazing, mysterious child born in a manger. It’s His birthday we're celebrating. But we tend to forget that.
And so, in this year of recession, our family is giving a gift in your names; the names of all those our family loves.This year, Samaritan’s Purse will be building a water well, in a place somewhere in need, to provide clean water, in honor and thanksgiving for your love and friendship. We are so richly blessed to call you friends and family!And so, for years to come, living water will pour forth in a place far from our homes, for those less fortunate than us all.A Christmas Gift that will last.May your hearts be warmed by the great love of Christ this Christmas!
The darling of the world is come
and fit it is we find a room to
welcome Him. To welcome Him.
The noble part of all the house
here is the heart. Which we receive him and bequeath this holly and this ivy wreath.To do Him honor who's our King and Lord
of all this reveling.
