still choosing joy, or trying to

I recently got a Vizio tablet. Not quite an ipad, but it is somewhat similar, and does a lot of cool stuff, so I like it. I'm typing this post on my tablet, still trying to get used to the touch keyboard. It amazes me how kids today type so fast with just their thumbs.

Anyway, not what I wanted to write about. A couple weeks ago I wrote about choosing joy. Someone asked how I was doing with that; the answer is--not too bad.

I have been trying to keep the phrase "I choose joy" in the forefront. It often slips to the back of my mind, but it's never too far away.

I've had a few days when I've been tired and grumpy, and don't act very joyful, but I think I've been able to come back around better than I usually do.

I do feel like I'm more aware of the good and the positive. Of course the biggest thing in our lives right now is Jamie's cancer. She has had a rough week--very tired, nauseated, dealing with a lot of pain and discomfort. It's got her pretty down.

She has bounced back--went to Ashley's soccer games Friday and Saturday and out to dinner on Saturday. I am proud of how she fights to keep going.

Back to me (not to be self-centered, but it is my blog). It's strange being in this position--walking beside someone with cancer.

I think it's forced us to get along better. I try to be more patient, less reactive.

I think I have been looking for and noticing the things in our lives that do bring joy. When I simply stop and live in those moments, I do rejoice...

• Jamie's treatment has made her more dependent on me. I think I've done a better job than usual of serving her, and she has been very grateful and patient with me.
• The boys had their first T-Ball game last week. It was fantastic watching them get dressed in their uniforms, go out to the park, warm up, and play the game.  
•  4 and 5 year-olds playing T-ball is an organizational mess, but it was beautiful. Both boys hit the ball well. One inning, Brady was on the pitching rubber and Cash played first. They made several good plays together. I was so proud and full of joy watching and cheering them.
• On Sunday we went to the kids' cousin Ira's birthday party. It was a beautiful spring day, sunny, warm. Jamie was worn out but sat on the patio, ate, and watched the kids play. It was a great day. 
• I had a blast watching Ashley play soccer. A few years ago I asked her coach to work with her on being more assertive/aggressive. Boy, did he. Now in high school, she is usually one the smaller players on the field, but is usually the toughest and most aggressive (in a good way).
• Every night we read before bed. It used to be me reading stories to them; but now all three of us read--Brady reads incredibly, and Cash is learning more every day--I am so glad they both love to read
•  One day I picked up the kids and we all went to dinner at Wendy's. It was so much fun just sitting there, laughing and talking while we ate. I got a frosty for the boys and me (Ashley had her own); we sat there taking turns with it; so much fun!

I have a friend (as we all do, or have) going through a divorce. My heart breaks when I talk to him. I cannot imagine going through that--not being able to read with and tuck in the boys each night. Not having those rare, precious moments with my daughter when she is no longer a crazy a teenager, but for a bit becomes my little girl again.

It has made me a little more aware lately of how special those little experiences are--each hug, each kiss, each conversation. Each opportunity to praise them and watch their joy and pride, knowing they have done well and Daddy is pleased.

I pray that I would better see and cherish those moments, and at the same time recognize that those moments are not just between my kids and me, they are also shared with our God, who loves us in a similar way, but bigger, stronger, perfectly.

There are still some situations (and people) that are frustrating in my life. Some things I'd like to change. But I'm trying to not let them bother me too much. Trying to not dwell on them, but turn my thoughts to the good, and beautiful, and encouraging.

With an amazing wife who is full of strength, and the three most beautiful, wonderful children in the world, it's not that hard to do.

The Voluntourist -- A Must Read

Ken Budd is my friend, brother, college roommate, frequent Springsteen concert date, GMU season ticket partner--one of my dearest friends over the last 26 years (wow).

He has been writing for years, but is about to publish a fantastic book; The Voluntourist: A Six-Country Tale of Love, Loss, Fatherhood, Fate, and Singing Bon Jovi in Bethlehem.

I was privileged to read much of it as Ken wrote it, and was blown away by his honesty, insight and humor.

Ken's writing is usually very funny, but it is amazing how his story quickly turns and touches you deeply. I'll do a formal review soon, but want to just share a little about Ken today.

He tells the story of how we first met in his book; but I'll share my version here...

I was in my second semester of college at George Mason University, and was placed in an apartment with Ken. We had never met, and he was already living there when I moved in.

I first showed up about 8 in the morning; Ken was still asleep. One of the first things I noticed were the liquor bottles on the kitchen table. I was a new Christian, recently out of the Army. I went from being  someone who drank A LOT to complete alcohol abstinence (it didn't last long).

I unloaded a few of my belongings and went to class. When I came back, Ken was gone, off to class himself.

I continued to move in and unpack.

When Ken and I finally connected, we talked a little bit. Both of us seemed unsure of the other.

A couple nights after I moved in, Ken got up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. He had drunk quite a bit, and fell asleep on the bathroom floor.

I needed to use the bathroom, and wondered what the hell was taking him so long. I finally knocked on the door. I heard him sort of grunt, then he got up and opened the door.

"Sorry about that," he said, and went back to bed.

We have often joked in the years since how we first perceived one another.

When I finally got all moved in, he looked around at my side of the room--shoes all lined up under my bed, bed perfectly made, Jesus posters all over the room--and thought, "My God, my roommate is an anal-retentive, militaristic Jesus Freak."

I looked at the alcohol bottles, bathroom passing-out, and nocturnal schedule and thought, "My God, my roommate is a lazy, late-night party animal well down the road to alcoholism."

We were both wrong. We quickly became close friends and had a great time together in college--late night 7-11 runs for big gulps and cookies...hours watching Letterman when we should have been studying...getting a glimpse of being a minority when we were the only white people in a Literature of Black America class...lots of concerts including Springsteen, U2, Hank Williams Jr., Randy Travis, The Monkees, and many more...late night tennis games and field-goal kicking contests...

We stayed close even when I left for Texas for ten years, and picked right back up when I moved back, going to GMU games and conference tournaments for the past ten years.

We were in each other's weddings, and were there for each other when we both lost our fathers a year apart.

Ken is strong but soft-spoken, very bright, witty, and has a huge heart. Ken and I lived together for a couple years, and have been friends for decades, yet have never had an argument--because Ken is by far the most easy-going guy I've ever known.

I am a better man because he is my friend and has always supported and encouraged me.

But I also love him enough to be honest. If his book stunk, I'd tell him (gently, of course). But it doesn't. Ken is a great writer, and The Voluntourist is a great book.

Read it, I promise you'll be glad you did.

I Choose Joy

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters,whenever you face trials of many kinds,  because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.  Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.

--James 1:2-4

I had one of those great moments with God in church yesterday. It doesn't happen often for me these days. I'm struggling with cynicism--not about God, but about church and people. More on that another time.

But yesterday in church I had a great connection with God. I'm not a "God told me" type of person. But three words came to me as we took communion, and I believe they came from God.

"I choose joy."

The past few months (actually the last few years) have been the most stressful time in my life. We moved, left family and friends, home and comfort, to start a new life on the other side of the country.

I started a new job that is fun and challenging, but brings a lot of pressure.

I am getting used to a new church, trying to make new friends, and learning a new town.

I am trying to help my kids get through the challenges of change and transition.

And in the midst of all this, my wife gets cancer. I have always been very self-aware, but I'm struggling to identify my feelings about all this. I feel for Jamie. Compassion. Sadness. Empathy. I wish this weren't happening to her. I'd rather it were happening to me. I hate being powerless.

I've never been one to worry much about the future (I can worry well enough about the right now.) I don't have anxiety about the future of Jamie's health; I hope and pray that the current course of treatment will take care of everything and that cancer will be only in our past.

Stress has sneaked up on me in recent years. I dealt with very little stress in my 20s and 30s. I was single, very little responsibility; working jobs that I really enjoyed. I had great churches, great friends, and the freedom to do what I wanted.

Life was good, easy, light, simple.

In the last ten years I moved from Texas to Virginia, got married, worked in several fun but challenging jobs, had three children, lost my father, lost a job I loved under difficult circumstances and moved into a season where we struggled financially for several years.

Then we moved and started much of life all over again.

I'm not complaining--I wouldn't change much of what happen. I have lived 46 fun, adventurous, exciting, enjoyable years. I've been able to experience more than most.

I love my wife and my children. I've received a great education, both in the classroom, and in life. I have enjoyed trying different things and working in different jobs and ministries.

I love being a dad more than anything--It brings greater joy than anything I've done, even though it is often challenging and exhausting.

But in the normal flow and change of life, I never realized that my stress level was growing until I hit a point where it was really affecting me--trouble sleeping, worrying like I never had before, making it difficult to stay positive and encouraging.

A recent event has caused my stress to increase again--a situation that has been eating at me, causing me to struggle with anger, envy, disappointment, feeling I've been wronged.

Those feelings had been taking over my thoughts and emotions, until yesterday in church, when those words filled my mind and my heart. "I choose joy."

I choose joy, even when life doesn't seem fair, or just, or make sense. I choose joy, even when there is loss and sadness in my life, or the lives of those around me.

I look back at those years of being single and mostly responsibility-free, and I think part of the reason I was happy and at peace was because I was very much in control of my life. My decisions only affected me for the most part, so I could do what I wanted.

I could choose to do what brought me joy.

Now that I have a wife and three children and house and car and credit card payments and a challenging job, I don't have the freedom to choose everything. I can't control the way my wife or my kids or my co-workers act. I can't control the choices and decisions others make, even when those choices and decisions affect me.

I can't control people's health. I can't control how I feel sometimes.

But I can control how I react to life and to people and to situations. I can choose joy. I can choose to turn my eyes to God. I can choose to be grateful for the good in my life. I can choose to think of my children and the blessing they are.

I can choose to love my family, encourage my co-workers, and do the best I can to help others succeed.

I can choose to ignore the ways others treat me wrongly or disappoint me. 

I can choose to hope. Hope that what feels like injustice will be made right. Hope that God uses everything--even decisions that don't make sense now.

I choose joy. Not because I feel happy. Not because my problems are solved. I choose joy because I have seen God work over and over again, and I trust that He still has more to do in and through me. And I believe that as I choose joy, God strengthens my faith, and calms my heart, and uses me to bless others.

What a weekend

This was supposed to be my best weekend of the year. Every year at the beginning of March, Kenny, Andy, Johnny (and sometimes Jerry and Mark) and I go to Richmond for the Colonial Athletic Association Men's Basketball Tournament.

For the past ten years, I've had a season ticket with these guys for George Mason, our alma mater.

When we started having kids, and life got busier, GMU basketball was really my only "recreation," or thing that I had just for myself.

I love basketball season. I love the energy at the Patriot Center. I love seeing friends that I've been close to for twenty years, and making new friends each season. I love seeing the family that sits behind us each year--I think they had one or two kids when we started; now I think they have five.

And the highlight each year is the trip to Richmond, when we act like we're kids again--eating all the foods we normally avoid, drinking, acting silly, just enjoying being together and responsibility-free for a weekend.

Leaving GMU basketball and my friends was one of the hardest things about leaving Virginia, and I vowed I would still come back each March for the tournament, and the weekend with the guys.

Mom and Jerry gave me a plane ticket for Christmas, and I was all set to fly home for the tournament. Then the whole thing seemed to lose its importance when we found out Jamie had cancer.

So instead of flying to VA, I spent tournament weekend helping take care of my wife after her first chemotherapy treatment. (Although I did get to watch GMU play on the internet.)

There are times I feel pretty selfish--when I get down about missing the weekend. I know Jamie felt bad about me having to miss it--she even told me I could still go.

But as much as I wanted to be there, I also don't want to be anywhere but here; with Jamie and our kids, going through this together.

I still can't quite get my head around the fact that Jamie has cancer. It feels very surreal.

My emotions this weekend were all over the place--sympathy and concern for what Jamie is going through, determination to help her and stay on top of things around the house, longing to be with my friends in Richmond, anger at the randomness and evil methods of cancer, thankfulness in watching Jamie improve over the last few days, and as always, incredible joy playing with my boys, and having wonderful conversations with my daughter.

And a part of me did get to go to Richmond. You've heard of "Flat Stanley"? If not, he's a character made of paper that young students create and send out or take places--helping them learn about different places.

Kenny, who is so creative, made a "Flat Terry." (Terry is my nickname with the guys).

Flat Terry has my face on Will Thomas's (GMU, 2004-2008) body. The guys took him around to the typical Richmond places--Penny Lane, the Capitol Ale House, and the Richmond Coliseum.

They took pictures of Flat Terry and kept me updated on the weekend.

This is the busiest and most stressful life has ever been. Navigating the waters of Jamie's cancer, trying to be a better father and husband, staying on top of a job that I love but that pushes me every day--I've never felt so busy or so much pressure.

In the midst of life's challenges, I pause, and pray, and look ahead; and I believe that next year, we will have weathered this storm. Jamie will be healed and cancer free, we will be loving life in Washington, and I'll be in Richmond with the guys, cheering on the Patriots.

Grieving and Hoping

After some lighter, or less personal blog posts, tonight I am going to open up.

I am grieving tonight. Six months ago we moved from VA to Washington; and for some reason, tonight, sitting in a hotel in Kansas City, the grief finally came, pouring out in tears and sobs.

Grief over leaving my parents, my brother, my best friends, my favorite people and places and activities.

Most days I'm doing pretty well, and I do like life out in Washington, but I think it's finally hitting me that after the past nine years of being close to my parents, and my friends, and driving home to our house in the woods, and swimming in our neighborhood lake, and going to GMU basketball games, and meeting my college buddies for drinks at Fats, and going to the CAA tournament in Richmond every March--all that is gone, and I'm grieving for that.

I love my family, and my wife's family who is all nearby now. I really enjoy my job, and my new friends. I love the mountains around us. I like our small town, and the people who help care for our kids.

But I miss my life if Virginia. Just as with the other big moves in my life--going from VA to Texas, then Texas back to VA--I have said goodbye to a part of my life, a part of me. So I grieve.

Yet as I think and write and cry through my grief, my focus shifts forward, and toward those around me. 

All this is enhanced because my wife has cancer, and in these early days of diagnosis and exams and consultations, we are uncertain of the future, knowing only that our lives are about to change radically.

I also realize that my life is not be about me, but about Jamie and our kids. 

I am concerned for her, and hopeful for God's healing and blessing. I long to be the man God wants me to be for her. I pray that God will help me love and support her, and provide peace and strength for her and our children.

I pray and work to be able to lay down my life, to live more and more for God and my family. I look for hope of what God will do through this dark time, hope that he will bring us all through this, stronger, gentler, closer, more faithful.

I close with a prayer borrowed from my friend Mike Stavlund, whose writing often encourages and blesses me and captures the parts of my heart that I struggle to express (thank you, Mike):

God of grace and disappointments, God of kindness and pain, God of suffering and healing, God of absence and presence, God of weakness and strength, we worship you. We wrestle with you, and we honor you in all of your ways. 



 

Meeting BJ Thomas

One of my favorite songs is a cover--B.J. Thomas's version of the Hank Williams classic "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry."

I love Thomas's voice, and have been a fan for many years.

I think the first of his songs that I knew was his biggest--"Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head," from the film Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid.

As a teen, I was always into oldies, and remember listening to "Hooked on a Feeling," "I Just Can't Help Believing" and "Another Somebody Done Somebody Wrong Song."

In 1985 I read Thomas' first book, Home Where I Belong, which chronicles his early career, battle with drugs, and his spiritual journey, as he became a Christian and sought to overcome his addiction. 

While I wasn't an addict or acoholic, I read the book at a time when I was trying to move away from a life filled with drinking and partying, focusing more on God and trying to live a life that reflected Christ.

Thomas' book really spoke to me. I connected with his struggle to do the right thing in the midst of temptation and his personal demons. His faith and humility inspired me.

In my 20's and early 30's I went through a lot of ups and downs, especially in relationships. "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry" was a song I turned to from time to time. It does such a great job of capturing the loneliness that we all feel at some time.

In the nineties, I lived in Ft. Worth, Texas, and spent a lot of time at the Ballpark in the Arlington, where the Texas Rangers played. I even worked at the Ballpark for a couple years, so I went to a lot of games.

Thomas lived in Arlington, and was a frequent guest at the Ballpark, singing the National Anthem before games several times each season. I loved to hear him sing "The Star-Spangled Banner."

In the late 90s I flew home to Virginia once or twice a year. One time I got on the plane in DC to fly back to Texas, and as I walked through first class, saw a face that looked familiar sitting in the back row of the first section.

It took me a minute to recognize the thin, almost gaunt face, deep blue eyes, and long, curly black hair; and it wasnt until I was walking past him into coach that I realized it was BJ Thomas.

I sat down thinking, "how cool was that." I wasn't shocked; I traveled a lot and was used to seeing famous people.

I used to fly in and out of Nashville a lot, and over the years have seen a lot of celebrities in airports or on airplanes--including John Voight, Charles Durning, Faye Dunaway, Amy Grant, Tom T. Hall.

But it was different with Thomas. Having grown up listening to his music, and reading his book, I felt like I knew him. As I sat in my seat, I remembered his story, and the struggles he had overcome. I looked back at my own life and thought about the path my life had taken in the years since reading Thomas' book.

A couple hours later we landed in DFW and I got off the plane, having forgotten about the famous voice in first class.

I walked to the baggage claim area and waited for my bag.

It's easy to get mesmerized watching that belt go around and around, looking for your luggage. After about ten minutes I looked up and saw that everyone had retrieved their bags and left, except for me. And BJ Thomas.

I walked over to him and said hello. I told him that I was a big fan of his music, and that I had read his book and appreciated him telling his story, sharing his struggles and faith journey.

I told him that his recording of "I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry" was beautiful; one of my all-time favorites.

Thomas was really friendly; he listened and asked a little about me. Our conversation lasted less than five minutes; his bag appeared before mine and he thanked me for my kind words and said goodbye.

I look back at that conversation every time I hear one of his songs--one of those little moments in life that isn't really a big deal, but leaves an impression, and makes those songs a little more meaningful.

Belief--from Rob Bell's last sermon at Mars Hill

i write this to you because of how many of you have been
challenged about your participation in the life of this
church, often with the accusation: but what do they believe
over there at mars hill?

as if belief, getting the words right, is the highest form of
faith. Jesus came to give us life. a living, breathing, throbbing,
pulsating blow your hair back tingle your spine roll the
windows down and drive fast experience of God right
here, right now.

word taking on flesh and blood.

and so you've found yourself defending and explaining
and trying to find the words for your experience that is
fundamentally about a reality that is beyond and more than
words.

so when you find yourselves tied up in knots, having
long discussions about who believes what, a bit like
dogs doing that sniff circle when they meet on the sidewalk,
do this:

take out a cup
and some bread
and put it in the middle of the table,
and say a prayer and examine yourselves

and then make sure everybody's rent is paid and there's
food in their fridge and clothes on their backs

and then invite everybody to say
'yes' to the resurrected Christ with whatever 'yes' they
can muster in the moment and then you take that bread
and you dip it in that cup in the ancient/future hope and
trust that there is a new creation bursting forth right here
right now and

then together taste that new life and liberation and
forgiveness and as you look those people in the eyes gathered around that table from all walks of life and you see the new
humanity, sinners saved by grace, beggars who have
found bread showing the others beggars where they found it
remind yourselves that
this
is
what
you
believe.

remember, the movement is word to flesh.
beware of those who will take the flesh and want to turn it
back into words


I recently had a conversation with a pastor who would not do business with my company because we do business with another pastor, whose theology and methods he does not approve.

I deal with people all over the landscape of the Church. I have conversations with extreme fundamentalists and liberals; people who use only the King James Bible, and others who write their own translations; people in churches of thousands, people in churches of ten.

I work with Baptists, Methodists, non-denominationalists, Episcopals, Catholics, Bereans, Mennonites, Presbyterians, Pentecostals, Lutherans, Anglicans, Korean churches, Chinese churches, African-American churches, Latino churches, Emerging Churches, Reformed churches, traditional churches, contemporary churches...and dozens of others.

I see an incredible diversity in what churches put on their "statement of beliefs" pages, and think how amazing it is that all these people are reading the same bible and come up with such different interpretations, perspectives, doctrines and emphases.

I grow weary of the debates among writers and speakers and theologians, the accusations of heresy, the warnings to avoid certain writers and churches and theologies.

So I love Rob's answer to the question of belief. It's about the bread, and the cup, and the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. It's about loving God and loving people.


I am convicted that I do a poor job of this. I need to spend less time reading and thinking and debating, and more time just loving God and loving people.

Rob Bell--Jesus' Humanity

More from Rob Bell's goodbye sermon at Mars Hill:


many Christians are eager to point out that
Jesus said he was the son of God and that's the wedge issue,
the crux of the faith, the divisive point you have to take a stand
on. 

i believe he is. and in the same breath, i remind you that
he also referred to himself a shocking number of times as the
'son of man.' you know what 'son of man' means?

human.
now that's shocking.
take a stand on that.

what he stressed, what he thought was a big deal, what
he called himself time and time again, was son of man.

it is a big deal for a human to be divine, but if
you're looking to provoke, and if you want to focus in on
astounding claims he made about himself,
how about the mind-bendingly revolutionary claim of the
divine being human?

weeping,
spitting in mud,
eating,
drinking so much he's accused of being a drunk,
letting people clean his feet with oils,
inviting people to touch his wounded sides.

humanity, now that's interesting.
Jesus invites us into the full spectrum of human experience,
from lament to exhilaration and everything in between.

from basking in the presence of God,
to cursing at the top of your lunges from the rooftops
because God is nowhere to be found,

shrieking till you're hoarse 'my God, my God, why have
you screwed me'
now that's life.
that's real.
that's divine.

These are the kinds of thoughts that really help me connect with Jesus. Imagining his humanity--that he lived and breathed and hurt and felt and experienced all that I experience. That he, too, experienced God's presence, and the lack of God's presence--just as I do.


There are times I sense God being so close--holding me, comforting me, loving me, encouraging me, guiding me, protecting me...yet there are also times when I feel that I could shout as loud as I can, and still wonder if he hears me.


Times when life just doesn't make sense, and I wonder, "What the heck is God thinking/doing?"


Remembering that Jesus went through all of that helps tremendously. I am not alone. God doesn't just invite me to seek him, he seeks me. He became human and came to me. He took the initiative to know me and love me and be with me. wow.

Great thoughts from Rob Bell's goodbye sermon

A couple days ago I listened to Rob Bell's final message to Mars Hill. I love listening to Rob--his voice adds passion and wonder to his words. I posted a link to this message on my facebook page, but suggest you get the podcast and listen, rather than just read.

I thought I'd share a few parts of his message that spoke to me:

this church, this place, this community, was once simply a
hunch. a dream. a vision. 

a picture in the mind of a new kind of church for the new world we find ourselves in. 

a church that was fearless in confronting the injustices and systems of oppression that lurk around every corner and at the very same time deeply committed to the personal, intimate experience of following Jesus, of experiencing the joy and peace that transcends space and time. 

a church that found the stale, old categories of liberal and conservative boring and irrelevant because we'd experienced resurrection, which includes and affirms anything and everything that brings liberating, new life wherever it's found irrespective of whatever labels and categories it's been given because of an abiding conviction that the
tomb is,
after all,
empty.

a church where the main thing was actually the main thing.
a church that understood that there is a simplicity on the other side
of complexity, 

aware of all of the various interpretations
and theological perspectives and complicated systems of thinking and analyzing 

and yet with a clear, resolute sense that Jesus is doing something in the world, bringing water to the thirsty, food to the hungry, peace to the restless, presence to the lonely 

and we are invited to join his movement. 

that Jesus is ultimately not a proposition you intellectually assent to but a person you say 'yes' to.


I love Bell's messages. This last part, which I put in bold, is an important piece for all of us--whatever labels describe our theology. We easily get caught up in thinking, intellectualizing, arguing, debating, defending, and questioning--our beliefs, our interpretations, our preferences...


I need to remember that what is most important is knowing, experiencing, following, pursuing, longing for, crying out to, imitating, and living in Jesus.

It's not about what I think about Jesus, but how I relate to Jesus. And it seems that as I get older, this doesn't become easier, as I used to think it would. My always-present questions about life, death, God, the Bible, people, religion, everything, make my pursuit of Jesus more challenging than ever.

So while my understanding might not be as simple as it used to, I want to grow in my ability to say "yes" to Jesus, no matter what. 

Christmas Emotions

You always hear about how the holidays are an emotional time. Times like this seem to enhance whatever we are feeling. Those who are grieving loss, feel it even deeper; those who are experiencing joy are even more excited.

Tonight I spent some time reflecting how I am feeling a lot of different emotions at once. During the past week I have felt humbled, proud, nervous, grateful, angry, defeated, determined, happy, peaceful, anxious, eager, and tired.  That's probably not it, but all I can think of now.

Getting into basketball season reminds me how much I miss my friends in Virginia. I miss going to GMU's games with the guys. I miss Andy's goofy sense of humor. I miss just sitting with the guys, feeling so great about everything in life.

I miss my parents, and my brother, and all my friends in VA.

But I also love our life here. I got a promotion at work last week--my boss has shown me a lot of trust and been pleased with my work, and is giving me more responsibility. I am excited about that.

I really enjoy the people I work with, and the challenges of my job, and the feeling of accomplishment.

I am having a blast with my kids. I love going to work, and I love coming home.

Jamie and I are having fun with her family--having people over for dinner, hosting game nights, being able to get together with people spontaneously.

We are stressed about Christmas, still last minute shopping to do; but it will come together.

In the midst of the time when everything is supposed to be about Jesus, it's so easy to get busy and push him to the backburner.

So I pause tonight to seek Him.

In gratitude to God, empowered by the Spirit,
let us strive to serve Christ in our daily tasks
and to live holy and joyful lives,
even as we watch for God’s new heaven and new earth,
praying: Come, Lord Jesus!
—from A Brief Statement of Faith

Advent--Preparation

"A voice of one calling in the wilderness,
       'Prepare the way for the Lord,
       make straight paths for him.
     Every valley shall be filled in,
       every mountain and hill made low.
       The crooked roads shall become straight,
       the rough ways smooth.
     And all people will see God's salvation.' " (Luke 3: 4-6, TNIV)

Preparation

How do we prepare for the one who is coming? How do we prepare to celebrate the birth of Jesus?

Life is full of preparation. It seems like we spend a lot more time preparing than doing. We spend our childhood preparing for adulthood—what do you think we are doing in school? Twelve years, then four or more in college. Why?

Preparing to be an adult, a contributing member of society. For the first 20 years of life, we’re not really doing anything, just preparing for what comes next.

Many of us spend our early adult years preparing for marriage and parenthood. We’re out on our own, taking responsibility, learning how to be a grown up.

Once we have a job and a family, we spend time preparing for our kids’ future, and retirement--working, saving, investing, thinking about what we will do when we’re older.

In church we read, study, and serve, preparing to do what God wants us to do.

But none of that preparation compares to the preparation in which we now find ourselves. For now we are talking about preparing ourselves for the coming of Jesus.

It’s the time when we celebrate who God is in our lives, and what God has done; but even more, we look ahead at the celebration of what is to be as we follow him, both in this life, and the life to come.

True celebration doesn’t just happen. It takes preparation. Think of the joyful times in life, and the preparation involved there. The greatest day of my life was my wedding day. 

Jamie and I were engaged for eight months. There was a lot of work that went into planning the wedding. We didn’t want it to be perfect, but we did want it to be fun. We wanted it to be a celebration, and for everyone to enjoy themselves as much as we did!

So we planned and talked and dreamed. We went to other weddings and learned what we liked and what we didn’t.

From beginning to end, we planned for it to be a day of celebration. A lot of people told us it was the best wedding they been to. The ceremony was beautiful—we had music that was meaningful—Ash’s favorite song, Jamie’s mom played violin, her  sister Marty sang.

Ashley was a big part of the ceremony, as we made vows to her, and invited her to participate on the stage with us.

While we were taking pictures, our guests were already eating and laughing and listening to music. Once we joined the reception, there was dancing, great food, and wonderful cake. The whole day was a celebration! It was great, because we prepared for it.

I think the second greatest day of my life was the day Brady was born. I got Ashley at seven—she was already trained. I didn’t have to prepare to welcome her into this world. But with Brady, it was a brand new experience. I read books, watched videos, went to child-birth classes, talked to other dads…

When day came, I was as ready as can be. I’m emotional, and started crying about five minutes before he actually came out—and for a while after! What a celebration!

Both those events were great; and were made greater by the preparation that went into them!

In less than two weeks we celebrate the biggest event in history—the Incarnation. The event where God took human form, being born as a baby. We need to prepare to celebrate His coming.

   " And all people will see God's salvation. " (TNIV)

This is the goal of Jesus coming. Not to celebrate a holiday. Not to give and receive presents. Not to sing carols and eat great food.

Not to draw close to family and watch It’s a Wonderful Life. Not to decorate the tree and drink eggnog. These are all Christmas traditions; and they are wonderful.

But the goal is for all people to see God’s salvation!

When we prepare ourselves for the coming Jesus, we see Him more clearly, through all the distractions of modern Christmas. We celebrate Him, and not all the other stuff that Christmas has become about.

When we focus on Him and not all the cultural trappings of Christmas, we also help others see what Christmas is really about. While I love the joy of Christmas morning, I think I love this time of preparing, and looking, and expecting, almost as much.

Help me select a new blog title

It's been a long day--Brady was sick with a fever so I stayed home with him and Cash (I figure with Cash in preschool for 8 hours most days, I'd keep him at home with me, too).

Good day, but tiring.

I'm not going to attempt to write anything tonight...but I have been thinking that I don't like the title of my blog anymore. I have no new ideas, but want to brainstorm. Here are some words/ideas that go through my mind these days. I'm open to any and all suggestions--doesn't have to be a complete title, but even partial thoughts and ideas. Thanks!

asking, seeking, searching, learning, wondering, working, playing, wrestling...

not much tonight. I'll come back to it tomorrow.

Great fiction--newest Stephen King

I recently read Stephen King's latest novel, 11/22/63. It's about a guy who goes back in time to try and stop the JFK assassination. (More about this book later). But reading it, and thinking about it after, I was thinking about how I grew up with Stephen King.

OK, not literally, he has no idea who I am. But I grew up with him, or actually, his books. My memory continues to fade as I get older, but I remember my first King book--The Shining.

I was in seventh grade. I remember sitting in art class hiding my book under the table and reading--I couldn't put it down as I followed Jack Torrence's dark journey to insanity.

I remember being afraid to turn the lights out at night, as images of the Overlook Hotel filled my mind.

When I finished The Shining, I went to the library and read King's two other books at the time, Carrie, and Salem's Lot. Both were terrifying--yet fascinating.

It wasn't just about being scared. King drew me into the stories, into the lives, the towns, the relationships of the characters he created. They were just so real.

Since then, year in and year out, I have read every book King has published. Over 60 in the last 35 years. I remember the anticipation each time I learned a new book was coming.

I remember getting absolutely lost in the post-apocalyptic world of The Stand--still my favorite of King's books. I go back and read it again every few years.

I remember feeling like a kid again in Eyes of the Dragon, King's beautiful nod to the traditional fairy tale.

And every few years, for the last 30, I have traveled through Mid-World with Roland, on his quest in the Dark Tower series.

I remember the thrill of discovering there were more King books out there, secretly published under another name. I had one of the first editions of Thinner, published before people discovered Richard Bachman was King. I remember the excitement of finally getting a copy of The Bachman Books.

I have experienced joy, wonder, amazement, fear, anger, and peace as I lived through each of King's stories. 

I have had dozens of conversations over the years with people who think King only writes horror. I love telling people that don't read his work (especially those who piously say, "His stories are evil,") that he wrote the books on which the films Shawshank Redemption, Stand By Me, and The Green Mile were based.

Not horror or evil at all, but stories of love and loss and perseverance and beauty and life and death and hope. And that's the bottom line in all of King's stories. Hope. Hope that there is more to life than my pain and struggle. Hope that love really will conquer. Hope that good really will win out over evil.

If you have never read any of King's books, you are missing one of the greatest storytellers of our generation. Give him a shot, I promise you won't regret it.

Here is my current ranking (because it may change based on my mood) of my top 5 Stephen King books:

1. The Stand
2. The Talisman (written with Peter Straub)
3. The Shining
4. The Eyes of the Dragon
5. The Green Mile

Getting back to where I started, 11/22/63 is probably in my top 10; in time I'll be better able to assess it's place in the body of King's work. But right now, I think it's the best thing he's written in 15 years. While the premise sounds like science fiction, it's really a love story, and a very good one. And the conclusion is one of King's absolute best--a beautiful, haunting, perfect ending.

I'd love to hear from other King fans--what are your top 5?

God in our differences

So two months have gone by, and I haven't written a thing. Which means any readers that were hanging around are probably gone. I've promised and committed to start writing again too many times.

So I'll just say I'm writing today, and I may or may not write tomorrow. or next week.

I always struggle with what to write. Not because I don't have any ideas, and not because I don't know how to express them, but because in this world where everything is accessible, I do sometimes worry about how what I say will be taken by some.

When I peruse my friends list on Facebook, I see that I have an incredibly diverse group of people who I consider friends (or at least acquaintances, or people I'm interested in or curious about or respect or admire--or just like to see what crazy stuff they say).

I also work in a job where I network and build relationships with people from all over the landscape of American church life.

Recently I had two phone conversations at work--doing my job of networking and trying to get to know people and learn how Logos can help them,

The first conversation was with a gentlemen who works for a very conservative para-church ministry. They are very dogmatic, and somewhat controversial in their methods. Their faith perspective is very black and white.

I do not read the Bible the same way this gentleman does. He would probably consider some of my views heretical. I believe his heart is good, and that he longs to follow God, but I don't agree with some of the ways he perceives God, faith, salvation, and doctrine.

After I got off the phone with this gentlemen, I called a woman who teaches in a progressive seminary. She is an older African-American woman who has achieved a lot in ministry and education.

She told me some of her story, the things she has fought for, the adventures God has led her on. I loved listening to her, and felt a spiritual connection.

I'm pretty sure my theology is much closer to hers than to the gentleman I talked with earlier. Near the end of our conversation, after we had developed some trust and comfort with each other, she told me that she had googled me before we spoke, and that what she found helped her be open and trusting with me.

After we talked, I thought about that. I am pretty sure that if the first gentleman I spoke with had googled me, he would not have been very positive about some of what he found.

I once had a church revoke in invitation to serve as an interim pastor after reading some of my blog posts on religion and politics a couple years ago.

All this makes me cautious about what I say, knowing anyone could read it. I don't really care if people disagree with me personally, (although I want to make sure I am always communicating in love, and not judging those who disagree with me).

But I do want to be careful to not alienate people with whom I work and network.

I had a conversation today that spoke to this topic. A family member who is a talented musician was recently asked by a Catholic church to work there part-time providing music in worship.

Another family member became very upset when they heard this. I don't know what was said, but I think that this person has a very negative view of the Catholic church and was concerned for the other person's spiritual well-being if they did anything for or with a Catholic church. The second relative urged the first to not take the job.

This is the kind of stuff that makes me wonder. There are thousands of Christian denominations. Not hundreds, but THOUSANDS.

Each one believes that they honestly and accurately seek and follow God as directed by the Bible. Each one does it a little differently. There are a lot of smaller differences, and a lot of huge differences among churches and denominations.

I've written about this before, but it's still on my mind. I believe more and more that God is far more OK with our differences and disagreements than we are. I believe God is big enough and forgiving enough and patient enough and accepting enough to put up with all our conflict and confusion.

And personally, I believe he is OK with our questions and doubts and confusion; probably even more than he is with our certainty and dogmatism and determination.

My faith has more questions than answers these days.

I am dealing with this as we search for a church. This morning in worship, as we sang carols and hymns, I sensed God's spirit more than I have in a while.

Yesterday, at a day of training with my team at work--made up of conservatives and liberals (well, at least one--me), Calvanists and dispensationalists, baptists and sort-of-charismatics--I experienced God's presence.

I sensed his joy and laughter at this room full of very different people, with different views of God, working to get to know one another, learn from each other, and accomplish goals together.

I think God might be more present in our differences and diversity than He is in our uniformity and agreement.

back into baseball

Last Saturday I got back on the baseball field for the first time in over two months. I love umpiring baseball. It's a great part-time job, but I don't do it for the money. I do it because I love the game.

After time with my family--the baseball field is one of the places I most love. I love being on the field, under the sunshine, smelling the fresh grass, listening to the kids laugh and play and compete.

It's almost like I have a relationship with the game. I played baseball as a kid and loved it--but I wasn't going to have a long career (I was a great catcher, but a lousy hitter).

I umpired Little League when I was in high school, and really enjoyed it.

In my 30s, I decided to get back into it. I actually looked into going to professional umpiring school in Florida, but was told I was too old to ever make it to the majors. So Durwood Merrill, a retired MLB umpire, suggested I get into high school baseball.

I umpired for several years in Texas, and had a wonderful time. I had good training, and got really good at it. But in 2002 I moved back to Virginia. I intended to get into baseball there, but life got really busy, fast. I started working in a new ministry, met Jamie, and soon we were engaged.

A year later we were married, and soon after started having more kids. Baseball kept getting put on hold.

I remember driving home on spring evenings, and seeing the lights on at the baseball field at the local high school. Each time I felt a longing to be out on the field, in the game.

After seven years away from baseball, I finally got back into it when I was out of work and we needed any money I could earn.

I joined the local association and began working as much as I could. I got good training, and was soon getting as much work as I wanted. It was wonderful to be back on the field, working, learning, getting better.

I spent two years umpiring in Virginia. Again, I got good training, and developed a really good reputation. I got a lot of good games, including some good playoffs.

Then we decided to move to Washington, where I'm starting over again.

It went well Saturday. The games were fun, the weather perfect. I quickly felt comfortable, even after 2 months off the field.

So once again, I'm in a new chapter of life. We've found a home, and I'm settling into my job, and our routines with work and school. Hopefully baseball will be a part of that as we move forward in our new lives.

What I Do

I've spent most of my adult life in jobs that were pretty easy to explain--pastor, teacher, security guard, pizza delivery guy, baseball umpire...

But two months ago we moved to Washington where I got a job as a Ministry Development Negotiator for Logos Bible Software. I've had many conversations with friends and family members where I try to explain what that means. Heck, I didn't even really know what all it entailed until I was a couple weeks into the job!

So I'm going to take some time now to explain what I do. If you're not that interested, feel free to stop reading now.

First some background on Logos. You can read more detail here on the Logos website; and this video gives a good feel for what the company is like.

This video shows what Logos's products can do.

Logos makes an amazing product--it's not just Bible software (although it is the best Bible software out there), it is a huge library of over 17,000 resources, instantly available because of the incredible technology.

I wish I'd had Logos in seminary.

My department, Ministry Development, works primarily to connect with conferences, churches, and schools to present Logos to groups of people and show them how Logos can make a huge difference in their ministries and studies.

Logos has a publishing arm. Writers can publish their work digitally through Logos.

So what do I do? I co-lead a team of people who try to partner with organizations, setting up opportunities for Logos to present, sell, and train people to use Logos.

I spend a lot of time on the phone talking with pastors, professors, seminary deans, conference coordinators. Listening, getting to know them, helping show them how Logos can help them.

I write a lot of emails. I record a lot of data. I talk with members of my team, learning from each other, encouraging one another, laughing together.

I work most of the time with a guy who is both very different from me (he's conservative, I'm liberal. He's a talker, I'm a listener. He's a Cowboy fan, I'm a Redskin fan); but also somewhat similar. We love sports, movies, fatherhood, and have similar senses of humor.

I work long days; usually 9-10 hours. But I'm so busy, and there is so much variety, that most days go by very quickly. I always feel like I need to get more done, but I have done a good job of leaving work at the office and letting it go when I'm home.

I enjoy going to work in the mornings. I go in early--usually leave about 5:30--and listen to yesterday's Mike and Mike podcast as I drive.

I get off about 3/3:30, and pick up the kids from school. Twice a week we watch Ashley play soccer for her high school.

Life is busy and fun these days.

six weeks into the move

I'm still here. The last six weeks have been a whirlwind. I was talking with a good friend back home in Virginia a few days ago, and after I caught him up on everything we've done since moving to Washington, he was amazed.

I hadn't thought about how much change and activity such a transition involves; but after some reflection, I'm amazed at how much has happened in just 45 days...

We packed up everything we own and drove 3000 miles across the country. As Brady loves to tell, we drove through 11 states: Virginia, Tennessee, Kentucky, Illinois, Missouri, Kansas, Colorado, Wyoming, Montana, Idaho and Washington.

We unloaded almost everything into a storage facility, and took the essentials to Jamie's mother's house. I started work at Logos on July 25.

We went to the Logos company picnic in Fernwood--great time.

We went camping with a couple other families--wonderful time relaxing on the Nooksack River--tubing, cooking s'mores, riding 4-wheelers...

We went to two fairs--the Skagit County Fair, and the Northwest Washington Fair in Lyndon. We had a blast looking at horses and cows, eating great/awful fair food, listening to fun music and riding scary rides.


Ashley joined up with a local travel soccer team and played in a weekend tournament.

We enjoyed great food at A Taste of Bellingham.

We have visited three different churches so far.

Jamie has attended a wedding and a funeral.

We found a great daycare/preschool for Cash, and for Brady before and after school.

We got Brady enrolled at the only 5-day kindergarten in town.

We looked at several houses and found the perfect one. We signed a lease and move in Sept. 15!

Ashley tried out for soccer at Burlington-Edison High School and made the JV team. They are 1-1. She's a superstar.

I went to my first Mariners game when my friend Dale came up from Texas for a visit. They lost to the Angels 4-3.

We drove up Mt. Baker and played in the snow near the top on an 80 degree Saturday.

We got approved for the sale of our home back in VA, then found out our buyer lost his loan; so we're back on the market.

I have settled into my job, accomplishing some neat things, and getting more leadership responsibilities.

We are enjoying family here, missing family and friends in Virginia, loving the beauty and summer weather of the Northwest. It still hasn't really sunk in that we live here, but I'm sure it will over time.


I'm glad that I get to keep in touch with people--thanks for the encouragement.

A New Life

I'm three days into my new job at Logos Bible Software, and I'm really enjoying it. It's been a challenging week--I'm still getting used to west coast time and weather (absolutely perfect one day, cool and cloudy/rainy the next).

I've been fighting a cold all week--tired and congested--but I'm drinking tea nonstop and pushing through.

Work is going really well. I'm kind of on information overload; but excited about what I am learning, and about what I'm going to be doing. I will be searching for and connecting with people with conferences, churches, ministries, universities, seminaries, denominations--building relationships and looking for ways that Logos can partner with them and help people with Bible study, theological research, sermon prep, etc. The potential is huge to help people and help Logos achieve more.

I am working on a team with some great people--young and eager and fun to be around. I'm the old guy in the group, but as always, I never feel that much older.

We are getting settled into Jamie's mom's house, she has been very generous in giving us lots of space and helping us feel at home.

The boys are getting adjusted--having fun playing with their cousin Ira and getting to know some kids in the neighborhood.

It's been an eventful month--lots of stress, lots of fun, lots of change. But I am at peace. Each day I leave Logos and take a scenic drive down I-5, surrounded by beautiful mountains on both sides. I go home to an amazing family, and thank God for my fantastic life!

In Washington

The last three days have been kind of a blur and a whirlwind. Tuesday we arrived in Buffalo, Wyoming, to visit Jamie's sister Marty, her husband Harv, and their four kids. We had Elk and Antelope for dinner--really good! The boys had a blast playing with their cousins.

On Wednesday I left Buffalo, WY at 6 AM and drove 1030 miles to our new home in Burlington, WA. Long, long day; but a very beautiful drive. Montana was gorgeous; I've never seen such beautiful country. I took my time and stopped every couple hours to eat or fill the car.

Idaho was really beautiful as well. Eastern Washington reminded me of Kansas, pretty flat and not much to see, but I drove through it at sunset, so the sky was amazing.

It was a long day; I got into Burlington at 1 AM.

It was also a very emotional day. As I began, I reflected on everything we were leaving--our home, my family, friends, the boys' preschool, Ashley's school...and started to think, "What the heck are we doing?!"

The magnitude of the change we are going through fully hit me for the first time, and I was feeling pretty anxious. But after a while I calmed down, and started looking ahead. I thought about new opportunities for relationships, ministry, places to go and new things to do.

My anxiety eased and I began to feel something else--hope.
Hope that God is going to take care of us, even through all the confusion and uncertainty.
Hope that we will all get along well while staying with Grandma Vicki (who has been incredibly generous with her home).
Hope that we will find the right place to live.
Hope that Jamie will get a good working situation (transferring with Starbucks).
Hope that I will like and succeed at my job.
Hope that we will find a church that is right for all of us.
Hope that Ashley will like her new school and make good friends.
Hope that the boys will adjust, and that we'll find a preschool for Cash.
Hope that Brady will enjoy kindergarten.
Hope that we will build deeper relationships with family here.
Hope that we will enjoy a new life in a new place.

Thursday, my brother-in-law Chad and I met the mover and we unloaded the truck at the storage facility. One of the guys that we hired to help unload was a former professional wrestler named Mark Lewin. (For you wrestling fans, here's a video of Lewin wresting Ric Flair in the early 80s.)

I spent much of Thursday and Friday unpacking and putting my stuff away. I spent some time with Chad and Linde and their son Ira; Chad was a huge help these last couple days. Grandma Vicki had us all over for dinner Thursday.

Jamie and the boys got in late Friday night; it was a great reunion. Grandma gave everyone the tour of her house (she has done an incredible amount of work and sacrificed a lot so that we can have comfortable space for all of us).

We're still incomplete--Ashley will arrive from Texas on Wednesday. Then the whole family will begin our new life together in Washington!

One prayer request--we are all struggling with colds (my voice went out; I could hardly speak yesterday). Hoping to feel better when I start my new job Monday!

Day 5--Heat and Great Pie

The temperature as we crossed Kansas was 103. Yesterday we started in Hays, KS; crossed into Colorado; turned right at Denver and headed north. We stopped for the night in Cheyenne, Wyoming. Kansas may have some neat places and things to do and see, but none of them are near I-70. It was pretty flat and plain all the way across--about 400 miles.

I spent most of the day by myself in the Civic, with Jamie and Grandpa Lyle in the van with the boys. We stopped at a McDonald's and let the boys play and run around.

Once we got settled in the hotel in Cheyenne, Grandpa Lyle took us to dinner at the Village Inn, where they serve "The Best Pies in America." (They've even copyrighted the phrase.) It was really nice to get away from fast food and microwaved leftovers and eat a good meal around the table. Thanks, Grandpa!

The boys had a really good day yesterday, and everyone went to sleep pretty quickly.

Today we will drive about 4 hours to Buffalo, Wyoming, and visit Jamie's sister Marty, her husband Harv, and their four children.

Tomorrow (Wednesday) will get interesting. We found out yesterday the movers will be in Burlington Thursday morning. We had planned to arrive Thursday night, but are now altering the plan.

After spending the night in Buffalo, we are going to split up. I'm going to get up early Wednesday and drive straight through to Burlington, arriving there late Wednesday night.

Jamie, Grandpa Lyle, and the boys will take their time, stopping halfway for the night, and arriving in Burlington Thursday evening.

I'll miss everyone else for those two days, but will enjoy the alone time while driving!

So far we've driven 1881 miles. More than halfway!