Jeff's blog

Not going to cry...

2008-07-21T18:04:00.003-04:00

Tonight Aiden got his own juice box. He got it out of the fridge, took the straw out of the wrapper, and pushed it through the foil. All by himself.

How dare he. Doesn't he know that daddy still needs to be needed for his magic powers of getting treats and for all the wonderful things his opening bag powers can produce? Seriously, I almost cried.

Now granted, I encouraged him to try it. He'll be starting preschool soon and will need to be able to do things like that. Yesterday he made his own peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It was a bit messy, but he made it all by himself. All by himself he also managed to leave it on the tv tray where the dog promptly ate it.

It's funny the things that actually strike me as nostalgic or tear inducing. PB&J was cool, but somehow a little plastic straw and the world as I know it is no more.

That's my boy

2008-04-14T14:35:00.001-04:00

That's my 4 year old swimmer:)

The Aiden Sessions

2008-03-01T09:09:00.001-05:00

Aiden spent some time laying down a few tracks for his upcoming album...

Merry Christmas!

2007-12-26T17:07:00.001-05:00

So we don't really get in to the whole Christmas card thing. I mean, don't get me wrong, we could take the picture, print them on some postcards, mail them to everyone we know... it just all sounds like a lot of work. We generally skip it al together.

However, we did take this picture by the tree yesterday, and since my son looks like an absolute angel in it (he only was for about 5 minutes yesterday), consider this our online Christmas card.

Merry Christmas!

5 days left of a decade

2007-11-01T17:07:00.001-04:00

I'm in my twenties... at least for the moment, that is. I will be in my twenties, in fact, for only 5 more days. Then next week it is the big 3-0, the start of a whole new decade.

I'm not worried. It's really just a birthday like any other, isn't it? I mean, I seriously doubt I'll be feeling any different at 30 than I do at 29.99. An no, contrary to certain opinions of certain other people who I won't mention, I'm not having a mid-life crisis. Besides the fact that that would mean I would have to be dead by 60, which I'm not exactly hoping for, I'm perfectly calm and sensible. OK, so I might have bought a treadmill last week, but I hardly think that qualifies.

I don't get much sympathy for turning 30, mostly because most everyone I know is older than that. For those for whom 40 is well in the rearview mirror, they don't really want to hear about 30. Although, last week in studying for an exam with a guy from school, I mentioned something about graduating from college in 2000. He said, "wow, I graduated from high school in '03"

See? Nothing is really going to change. No matter what age you are, there is always someone who thinks you are just a kid, and somebody who thinks you are really, really old.

New Generation

2007-08-17T15:27:00.000-04:00

I was playing a Blue's Clues board game with my son today. We got it at goodwill for i think $2. He is really getting into board games these days and we didn't want to spend 15 bucks apiece on them at Meijer or something. It's good family time kind of stuff, but today was kind of funny.

During the game you get 3 clues and have to guess what the final answer is. We got all 3, they were camera, film, and smile. It's a kids game, so it's not real difficult.

As I tried to prompt him to think about the clues, I kept showing him camera and film, and how the film goes in the camera. As I looked at his blank stare I realized - he's never seen film before. He has no concept of film or what it was ever used for. We take pictures all the time, but as far as he knows cameras have always been digital and you could always see the picture you took right away. Film? You mean a memory card, don't you? That he might recognize, but film is a completely foreign concept.

Just wait until he hears about the tapes I grew up listening to.

Stay Safe

2007-08-05T14:27:00.000-04:00

How does one go about staying safe in the world today?

Now keep in mind that this is an American writing about life in America. I realize that there are places in other parts of the world, and I have been to a couple of the nearer ones, where security is less taken for granted and personal safety and rights are not assumed the way they are here. But even in this country, as technologically advanced and militarily powerful as it is, how does one stay safe? Let me see if I understand this...

You can't fly on a plane to go anywhere, because we've all seen the devastation caused by mistakes or malicious persons on airplanes.

You can't drive anywhere, because a bridge may suddenly disappear beneath you. How does that happen in a country like ours? We're not talking about Indiana Jones style rope bridges here, were talking about concrete and metal monstrosities. How does it suddenly collapse?

If you can't fly and you can't drive, what else is left? Staying at home? Wrong again. You can't stay home because huge chunks of ice might randomly fall from the sky on your house. Seriously, that happened in Iowa about a month ago. Here's a link to the news story.

Even if you could stay home without random pieces of ice smashing your house to bits, what would you do? You can't eat green beans, we have been told just this morning, because they might contain botulism. You can't eat canned chili or brush your teeth for the same reason. You can't let your children play with Fisher-Price toys, because a million of them have just been recalled for lead-based paint from China. Come to think of it, your house is probably full of chemicals that we don't yet know how they could kill you, but later we will find out.

Even if you could leave and go anywhere, where would you go? The beach is full of E.Coli, the amusement parks are injuring people, and much of Montana and California are currently on fire.

Now you stay safe and have a nice day:)

oh, the trauma

2007-06-30T09:50:00.000-04:00

We're honestly not trying to screw our kid up too badly. I mean, him being in therapy when he grows up is really not a long term goal for us. You might not be able to tell that by the last 14 or so hours, but its true.

Last night we decided to give up the binkies. He's probably been a little too big for them for a while now, and for the last year or so he has only been allowed to have them in bed at night. We got rid of all but a few quite a while ago, but last night we decided to take the plunge.

At first it seemed to be going really well. We introduced the "Binky Fairy" concept to him. Now, I'm not a HUGE fan of lying to my kid, but whatever gets the job done, right? And for that matter, why ARE we so concerned about our kids believing in santa clause who comes down the chimney and rides a sleigh and tooth fairies and all of that? Is there some kind of insecurity in us that makes us play out these things on our children?

But I digress.

The Binky Fairy, for the uninitiated, means that the child puts all his binkies in a bag and then hangs them from a tree in the yard. While he is sleeping, the binky fairy takes them and gives them to babies who need them, and leaves the child a special surprise. At first, he willingly participated. He gathered all the binkies up and put them in the bag, he went with me and helped tie them to the tree. We were even outside for a while last night and he had no thought of trying to get at that bag.

Then when it was bed time, he must have suddenly figured out that this meant they were leaving for good. Oh my goodness, I don't think I've ever seen him that upset. He was literally BEGGING us to not let the binky fairy take the binkies.

My wife, being more mature than me, handled him very well and just kept deflecting his attention to other things and calmed him down. Of course, he till slept in our bed with us, but that is kind of to be expected at the moment.

This morning he woke up happy, I thought we were clear. He ran downstairs to see if the binky fairy had come, and saw that his bag was gone and another bag was there instead. Meltdown #2. He cried and sobbed and begged for binkies. He didn't want all of them gone, just one. I couldn't even convince him to go look in the bag that was outside.

I finally carried him outside and knelt down by the tree, opening the bag so he could look in. Still crying, he buried his face in my chest the other direction, away from the bag. Eventually his curiosity got the better of him, and he slowly looked in.

From that moment, we've been fine. All tears disappeared and he yelled, "Wow! A dinosaur!" Good choice mom, I mean binky fairy, for picking that one out. He is inside playing happily with the new toy.

We'll see what happens later tonight when he starts to want a binky again. I'm thinking it has to get a little easier every day, right? I mean, eventually he'll understand it and he won't be sitting in a therapy session explaining his lack of trust issues because his parents made him put his cherished binkies in a bag for a spiteful little binky fairy to take them away... right?

This is why I hate being from Cleveland

2007-06-14T23:48:00.000-04:00

Have I ever mentioned how frustrating it is to be a Cleveland sports fan? I'm pretty sure I have, it's in my archives here somewhere.

Fortunately for me, I've been one my entire life, and that is long enough to know that you do NOT believe in winning. No matter how good it seems, no matter how big the lead the team will blow it. No matter how many times Lebron James is compared to Michael Jordan, you know he can't possibly live up to it. After all, he plays in Cleveland.

Every time you may be tempted to wonder why I don't believe in winning or that my team will actually pull it through, I'll simply refer you to the city where I grew up. It's all Cleveland's fault.

Babysitting

2007-05-09T14:21:00.000-04:00

I'm babysitting today. Now mind you, the term "babysitting" does not cover my own son. One of my all time pet peeves is when I'm taking care of my boy and somebody says, "Oh, you're babysitting today?" it is NOT considered babysitting when it is your OWN children!!

Today I have a couple of extra passengers, I think that comes along with being a stay-at-home parent, whether your a mom or dad. As you can see, everybody is having a great time.

They had already been at this for a few minutes when I got the video camera out. This is pretty much what you can expect when you have these three boys for a day.

If the above video doesn't work, you can try this link

Ahh, wonderful hockey

2007-05-05T16:32:00.000-04:00

It's nice to live in Michigan. Ohio doesn't care much for hockey, I don't think. At least, when I lived there nobody seemed to care much about it. Since moving here several years ago, however, I've discovered another major sport that I had to catch up on. It doesn't hurt when you have one of the big teams in the league that always seems to make the playoffs.

Last Saturday we were at an Art Van store when I noticed a big screen TV with the game on, with only a few minutes left in the third period and the score ties 2-2. I explained to my wife that I suddenly felt the urge to try out the theater seating that was conveniently placed directly in front of the TV. They wandered around the store for a few minutes while I tried out the chairs. They were very comfortable. I have to tell you, if you want good seats for a hockey game, wander into an Art Van around faceoff time. The only drawback is they'd probably frown on bringing in a cooler or something.

Today I saw that the game was on and caught the third period. My son joined me about half way through, and I got to fill him in on some of the finer points. Things like, the team with the most goals wins. You know, basic concepts:) With about 30 seconds left to play, a pretty big fight broke out on the ice, and I suddenly thought about the impression this must be leaving on my impressionable three year old. So when he said, "Dad, why are those guys hugging?" I decided I had nothing to worry about. "They are hugging because the game is almost over, son." Obviously, that's how hockey games end. The losing team hugs the winning team, and everybody goes home happy. What a great, family friendly event.

Then I tried to explain about all the octopi being thrown out on the ice. Somehow I think he might not fully grasp the significance of that one. Maybe next year.

10 years later

2007-04-18T18:55:00.001-04:00

I was traveling with a music team from my school back in Cincinnati, and as was our usual custom, we were housed by families from the churches where we sang. I had a lot of interesting experiences with host families, some good and some not so good. There was one night in particular when the host family was a man and woman, both alumni of Cincinnati, and they also had a couple of small children. I remember sitting in their kitchen while the dad cleaned up the floor in the adjoining bathroom, where his young son had “missed.”

I was pretty young, and of course, I thought that was pretty gross. The couple had been out of school for about 10 years, and I distinctly remember him saying to me, “This could be you in 10 years, cleaning up pee off the floor.”

That was my first year in that program, it was 1997. Tonight, 10 years later, the circle of life is complete. My own son “had an accident” and I found myself cleaning up pee off the bathroom floor. 10 years ago that was such a remote possibility. Today it is actually more unusual when I don't have to clean up after a kid or dog or something.

I remember another time when the host family had a small baby. Sometime during dinner the baby got sick and threw up all over its mother. Like a true mother, she just held the baby and let it shower her. I remember thinking, “That is the grossest thing I've ever seen.” As a college student, my first instinct would have been to point the baby at somebody else when it started puking. Maybe point it at a bucket or something, i don't know.

Then I had a baby of my own, and he got sick and threw up. And you know what my first instinct was? To hold him close to me and help him through it. It's funny how that changes.

Ya, it's kind of gross being a parent. But hey, it's a small price to pay for the “World's Greatest Dad” T-Shirt:)

I will NOT shovel my driveway in April

2007-04-07T14:51:00.000-04:00

Happy Spring! There are 3 inches of snow in my driveway!

I will not shovel it. Thought it has been snowing for a couple of days straight now, and the visibility outside is dropping, I refuse to shovel my driveway. It is a matter of principal. I've already put away the snowblower and i don't care how high the snow piles up, i am going to wait for it to melt.

My 3 year old has already switched over to spring mode, I think. I swear he must have slowed his energy down a bit over the winter to accomodate being indoors all the time, it must be some sort of hibernation. But then the weather got nice and we played outside every day. He's been riding his bike and playing in the sandbox, we've been going for walks.

Tuesday night, we went for a nice walk, it was about 68 degrees. We played outside and cooked chicken on the grill. Wednesday morning I woke up to go to school, and it was snowing.

that's just WRONG!!!

Now my boy is bouncing off the walls and talking a thousand words a minute, it's like adjusting to winter all over again. I wonder how everybody did with Easter egg hunts today, there were a bunch scheduled. I think we're going to find an indoor location to hide a few eggs tomorrow afternoon.

Although an outdoor egg hunt would certainly be interesting today - nothing hides a field full of easter eggs like 3 inches of snow!

Milk, Fish, and other Milestones

2007-03-01T22:24:00.000-05:00

Aiden lost his first fish. Well actually, it was his second fish. The first one died and we replaced it before he realized it with one that looked kinda similar. We held our breath as he checked out the fish tank, but he didn't seem to notice.

This time, we thought there might be a theme developing, and we don't want to be in the practice of trying to match identifying marks on goldfish every couple days or so. So we waited until he noticed that there were only 2 fish in his little aquarium, bit the bullet, and told him that his fish died.

Now, he's 3 years old so he didn't take the news too hard, though he was a little bit sad. He has actually been introduced to the idea of death already by a video he watches sometimes – it's Beginner's Bible stories, The Story of Easter. So now Aiden knows that his fish died like Jesus did.

The only problem now is that he has actually paid attention to this video, so he knows that Jesus comes back, and now he is expecting Jesus to have his goldfish with him when he does.

First (technically second) dead pet. It's a milestone.

Another milestone is that Aiden is officially drinking milk! Yes, real, honest to goodness, comes from a cow milk. No more milk allergy!. No more of this $7 to $9 per gallon rice milk – how you milk a grain of rice I have no idea. He eats anything we eat, no more special lists of “safe” food, no more asking to see ingredient lists at restaurants, no more packing the only kind of chicken tenders we know he can have with us everywhere we go. No more hiding the ice cream in the back of the freezer and only getting it out after he goes to bed – wait. We might still want to do that one.

It's a beautiful thing to make one meal and one meal only for dinner, and have all of us sit down and be able to eat it.

He's such a big kid, I really can't believe it. We're having conversations and he's having real opinions. Now when we go out we have to know where the nearest restroom is at all times – it was actually much easier to have him in diapers. Every day he does something new and it just reminds you that he's his own little person.

This winter he went sledding for the first time and built his first snowman. It seems like every day he's exploring another first and learning something new. It's pretty crazy, it makes you see things as if you are seeing them for the first time too.

A brief update

2007-02-19T13:25:00.000-05:00

Haven't had much time for blogging lately. School started about a month ago and I'm driving to Grand Rapids twice a week for classes. So far I'm keeping up ok, had a few papers to write last week, but managed to get those and all my reading done on time. It's going very well, I'm loving being back in the classroom. That might sound a bit nuts, but so far I really like my classes and professors.

Life is extremely busy, hence my difficulty in finding a few minutes to update this thing. Between Kate and I, we are working several jobs and still figuring out how to take care of our son and have a little time with one another - and pay all the bills. So far so good, all ends are meeting where they should, and everything is getting done. It's just an adjustment time for us, trying to figure out this new life of always running from one thing to the next, working at a new church, trying new things.

Katie is starting up a new gymnastics program in Whitehall. It's not technically a new program, but she is kind of restarting it after the previous director left. That's a wonderful thing, because she is very good at it and it's an opportunity to do something that she loves.

We have fish. Now I'm not a big fan of fish, exactly. Unless you are going to have really expensive, exotic fish (which I have neither the time nor the patience for), what's the point really? But Aiden looked at all the fish at Meijer while mom was grocery shopping and asked Grandpa if he could have one. Grandpa says, "You'll have to ask mom." So Aiden asks mom who says, "If dad says it's ok."

So to a 3 year old, that's 2 yeses. He runs to me very excited, "DAD! Can I have a fish!?" So now we have a little 2 gallon aquarium with three goldfish in it. We asked Aiden to come up with names for them -- so congratulations Karla, Andi, and Carson. You are apparently three of Aiden's favorite people and now have goldfish named after you.

Valentine's day was last week. If you listened to WJQ, you might have heard my name on monday morning. They had a poem contest where you could submit short poems and if they read yours on the air you won flowers, a necklace, and dinner. So, with out limited funds this year I submitted a verse from the song I wrote for our wedding, and they read it on Monday! It was especially nice because I really wanted to do something for Katie, but we weren't really shopping for it this year. In case you heard it and wondered - yep, that was me.

Between school and work and family and all the obligations that go with them, life continues to be beautiful and a blur all at the same time.

Hard to believe

2007-01-16T12:28:00.000-05:00

I was sitting in new student orientation yesterday at Grand Rapids Theological Seminary (part of Cornerstone University). Tomorrow is my first official class on my way to my master's degree. As I sat there and listened to the speakers tell us all about how to use the library and get student ID cards and parking passes, I just thought - I can't believe I'm really getting the chance to do this.

I've wanted to go back to grad school for a long time, pretty much since I got my bachelor's degree. I always figured I would do it someday, but I wanted to get into a ministry first, get established somewhere. Maybe wait a year or two. Of course things don't always work out the way you think they will. A year or two became six and a half.

For the record, I believe this way is the best way. Get your undergrad, get into ministry for a few years, then go back for the masters. I know some people go straight from undergrad to grad school, spending 8 or so years in preparation before ever setting foot in a ministry role. I guess that works for some people, but I've also known a few who wish they could have done it differently.

I guess on the one hand it makes sense because it is easier to go to grad school when you don't have a family to support and a mortgage to pay. I get that. But it also seems like sometimes you get prepared for things that don't ever happen, and you don't get prepared for things that you end up doing every day. Maybe a good dose of reality is a good thing before pursuing further degrees.

In any case, I'm really excited to be where I am. 2007 is a brand new year for my family. I'm going to a new school, working on a new degree, working part-time at a new church, and perhaps Don Henley said it best, "Everything is different now."

It's another step along whatever this journey is that I'm on. Honestly, I still don't have a clue where I am ultimately headed. That's ok with me. I am simply grateful for the opportunities that are in front of me.

3 year old rock star

2006-12-26T12:03:00.000-05:00


My boy showing off a little rhythm.

Me vs. a Waffle: the snowball effect

2006-12-20T20:42:00.000-05:00

It's funny how an inconspicuous thing can derail your entire day. A waffle, a mere breakfast food can have an enormous influence over your life. I wonder if the person who works at Eggo who made this particular waffle realized all the trouble that it would cause...

Allow me to set the stage: It all began this morning with breakfast, which would make sense since you already know that the story involves a waffle. I had a meeting at 9:30, my wife had already left for work. My 3 year old son was still asleep in our bed, somehow he managed to wiggle his way in at some point during the night last night. I was downstairs getting ready, I had already showered and was wearing my nice khaki pants, an undershirt, and socks.

I grabbed a toaster pastry from the freezer and put it in the toaster oven, making sure it was set to “toast” and not “bake.” I turned it on for the full toast cycle, and headed to the bathroom to finish getting ready. When I returned to the kitchen I found it full of smoke. I thought this was strange, because my toaster pastry wasn't at all burned, yet there was smoke pouring out of the toaster oven.

Ok, maybe pouring out is an exaggeration, it wasn't enough to set off the smoke detector (not to self – check battery in smoke detector), but it was enough to stink up the whole house. I turned on the fan over the stove and cracked the side door open just enough to get a little air in and hopefully air out the kitchen. Returning to the toaster over, I discovered at the back of the tray, which I had not previously seen, was a (formerly) frozen waffle that had apparently been through 5 or 6 “toast” cycles in the toaster oven. Now it was black, charcoal looking, and slightly smoking.

As I turned back to the door, I noticed that it was now wide open, not slightly cracked open as I had left it. The wind must have blown it or something. I also noticed my 2 Labrador retrievers headed out the now wide open door before I could reach them.

Running outside (remember, pants, t-shirt, socks – no shoes) after them, I vaguely recalled the obedience school lessons about practicing calling your dog to you so that in case they ever escaped toward a busy street (such as ours), you could call them back to you. Ya, that didn't work so good for me. Yelling after the dogs did no good, so after then I ran to the neighbors driveway, where they were busy marking their territory.

Unfortunately for me, when my son is sleeping the dogs tend to make quite a racket outside his door shaking and scratching, so we are often in the habit of not making them wear their collars. Whenever we had taken them off last, we had neglected to put them back on. So not only were both dogs without any kind of identification should they get lost, once I managed to catch up with them, I had no way of getting two 70 pound animals back to the house with nothing to grab on to. Grabbing the black one by the scruff of his neck, he howled in protest and broke loose, taking off running down the bike path that goes in front of my house. I stood watching them run as fast as they could, not looking back, until they disappeared out of sight. I don't think they even slowed down until I was out of sight.

Now I had multiple problems. 1 – I couldn't breathe from an asthma attack brought on by running out into the cold air with no shoes and no shirt on. 2 – my dogs were now officially gone and with no tags on. 3 – My 3 year old was still asleep in the house.

I weighed my options for a moment. Go after the dogs? Stay and call for backup? Hope they come home on their own? (yeah, right) Wake up my son or leave him sleeping? My mother in law was due to come over in about 20 minutes to watch Aiden, should I call her and see if she's on her way?

In the end, I ran back into the house, took a couple puffs on my inhaler so I could breathe again, grabbed my kid out of bed, wrapped him in a blanket, and threw him in his car seat. The poor boy was a little shell-shocked, I think. I don't remember a time we've ever thrown him in the car in his pajamas without even letting him wake up fully. He whimpered a bit as I buckled him in. I think I would have too.

We drove down the street hoping that the dogs (a) didn't try to cross the street and (b) didn't actually go to far. Oh yes, did I mention I live right down the street from an elementary school? And this was also about the time that school was beginning? There was a large crowd of kids and parents and teachers outside the school building as I pulled up to it. I think most of them were pointing and staring and these stupid yellow and black dogs that some irresponsible owner had let run loose through the neighborhood.

Oh yeah, those were my dogs. They were very excited to see all the kids and make so many new friends. I bet every kid in line at that school got a friendly lick this morning.

I whipped in the driveway (the bus driveway) past the “do not enter” sign (I came in the wrong way.) The car running, my groggy 3 year old in the back seat, I jumped out like a crazy person to collect my dogs. Did I also mention that I drive a Taurus? And that with a car seat in the middle of the back, there isn't a lot of room for two large dogs?

Not wanting to risk losing them again, I corralled the dogs toward my open drivers side door as 30 2nd graders looked on, and stared pushing. I pushed both dogs until they found someplace in the car to squeeze themselves into. It wasn't pretty, but then again I left graceful behind a long ways back.

The four of us made our way home, where I looped a leash around each dog's neck and led them individually into the house – which still smelled quite a bit like smoke.

I spent the rest of the day coughing from the asthma attack, smelling smoke in my house, and listening to my son tell me again and again, “we lost the dogs, dad.”

Stupid waffle.

2006-12-17T20:28:00.000-05:00

It's funny to watch my son grow up. He's only 3, but man he changes every day. It's funny to watch him try to problem solve. It used to be that he couldn't look at a problem from a different angle and find a solution - but now he has a solution (or suggestion) for every problem:)

Last night we were driving home and he had a cup from Arby's, and somebody (ok, it was me) had shown him how to play music by blowing into the straw. As we drove down the road, we were serenaded by his pepsi-straw music. But he wanted us to be able to see him, not just listen to him. I think the conversation went something like this:

"Dad! Dad! Look at me! Look at me Dad!"

Me (not looking): "Wow, buddy that's great."

"Dad! Look at me! Look at my eyes!" (Apparently, his mother uses that one a lot)

"Aiden, I can't look at you right now because I'm driving."

"Dad! Dad! Stop driving!"

"Aiden, we're going down the road. I can't stop the car on the road."

silence... then,

"Dad? Can we find a parking lot?"

seriously, his 3 year old brain has to be working overtime here. Fortunately, this entire conversation happened as we were already on our street, so he only had to wait a couple minutes for my undivided attention.

You have to give the kid credit, he is certainly tenacious:)

perfect.

2006-11-30T08:51:00.000-05:00

So lately I'm a stay-at-home dad. My wife is working and I'm unemployed (which is a really nice gig except for the pay), so Aiden and I are getting lots of father and son time. I see it as a gift, because I know a lot of dads who would really like an opportunity like this. Let's face it, the kids grow up ridiculously fast. I mean, I swear just yesterday he was just pulling himself up on things and taking his first steps. Today he is talking a mile a minute and running through the house like a crazy person.

Yesterday was one of those days with him that was just perfect. He had a minor little temper tantrum in the morning, but once we got past that he was just an angel all day. Now not every day is like that, so you have to grab those good days while you can.

Some of our highlights yesterday:

- carrying him through meijer, where he proceeded to blow big open mouth raspberry noises on my face, cackling very loudly after each one. If you were one of the people yesterday looking strangely at this father son pair, I will not apologize for our volume. The kid was having way too much fun to tell him to be quiet.

- Running out of meijer and trying to unlock my car and get us out of the rain, I made the statement, “Aiden, this is not our car!” He laughed and as I buckled him in reminisced, “We tried to get in the wrong car, daddy.”

- After putting him down for a nap, I turn on the baby monitor and sit downstairs to hear him singing, “I not go night-night. I not tired. I want to go downstairs.” Followed by, “BE QUIET DOWN THERE!” when the dog shook his collar too loud outside his bedroom door.

- After small group last night he was still awake, and we had a great jam session. We turned on Aaron Shust's, “My Savior My God” (which Aiden calls, “my saviow wivs”) He plays his heart out, and knows the song so well that he plays all the breaks perfectly. There's even a build part to the song, and Aiden beat the floor tom and snare – in rhythm, I might add – and slowly builds along with the song, pausing for the break going into the chorus, and then wailing on the crash cymbal on the downbeat. It's so good it just makes you want to laugh – not quite 3 years old, but the boy has rhythm:)

December 1st Release

2006-11-20T10:34:00.000-05:00

To anyone who may have been wondering about the release of the live recording... If all goes according to plan, it looks like December 1st will be the day.

There are still a few things to do between now and then, like finalizing the artwork and a couple finishing touches on the audio. But barring anything strange happening (like shipments getting lost or something) the CD will be available on my website on the 1st of December.

Check www.steelesongs.com for updates on this date. At the moment, all you will get there is a picture of the cover and a release date, but the rest of the site is almost finished being put together as well. You will be able to order the CD online, as well as get all the lyrics and chords charts and listen to some audio samples.

Thank you to everyone who has put up with me this long! Considering we started this whole thing somewhere around May, I'm really excited to get something finished and in your hands.

Things that make me smile...

2006-11-07T19:09:00.000-05:00

- walking with my son, holding his hand, and watching him take 2 steps for each 1 of mine

- looking out the window to see my neighbor's yards on either side completely covered with leaves, and mine completely picked up and clean

- seeing my wife take off with something she's great at, and get excited about soething she really loves

- looking in the window while out working in the yard, and seeing my wife and son playing together

- having a riding lawn mower with which to work in the yard and pick up the leaves

- watching my son pick up a guitar and try to imitate me

- playing hide and seek, and seeing Aiden's legs sticking out from under the pillow when he thinks he is hiding

- a dog trying to change direction quickly on a laminate floor

We're Getting Close...

2006-11-03T14:26:00.000-05:00

Several people have been asking me about a release date for the CD lately. I still don't have one... but we're getting very close now.

The recording happened on August 13th, and of course I had some idea of the amount of work that would be involved after the trackes were recorded, but never having done it before still didn't know what I was in for. The mixdown process has been challenging and fun at the same time, and I have learned a lot. I learned a lot about the art of mixing and about the equipment I was using.

After Aug 13, we had about 45 minutes worth of audio on 20 tracks (that's 45 minutes x 20, or 900 minutes of audio recorded.) The next task was to mix each song until they were down to 2 tracks (right and left.) Then once they were mixed down to 2 tracks, cimbining them into a single stereo file and applying final effects and compression. Once this was done, I would listen to the mix on every different kind of sound system I could get a hold of (headphones, car speakers, home stereo, church sound system, etc), take notes, and then go back to the beginning and make adjustments and start all over again.

I've probably listened to this recording 8,000,000 times in the last 2 months. The hard part is that I could listen to it another 8 million times, and tweak it for another 6 months if I wanted to. Just a little more bass here, more compression on the vocals there, maybe an eq adjusment on this track or that track. It's hard to find the balance between perfectionism and an anything goes attitude.

On one had, we've put a lot of work in to this CD. From fund-raising, to rehearsal, to post-production, I don't even want to count how many man-hours have gone into this thing. Plus you have all the people who pre-ordered them, and you really want something quality to show for 3 months of waiting. On the other hand, this was a live recording with non-professional musicians. None of us make a living on our musical ability alone, so there are going to be mistakes here and there. Some you can fix in post-production, some you can't. That's part of what you have to live with in a live recording like this.

So I've tried to find the balance as best I could. The balance between nit-picking the thing to death so that it's never good enough to release, and throwing my hands up in the air and saying, "oh well, it was our first try." There's good enough, and then there's good enough.

I just finished listening to what may end up being the final version of many of the tracks. There will be a few more tweaks, but they will probably be minor adjustments. For the most part and with only a few minor changes, the CD I just finished listening to will probably be the CD that the rest of you will be able to hear.

That means we are close. I hope that I have sweated the appropriate details and have not given up on places I could have gone back and fixed again. We all made mistakes the night of the concert. We all played bum notes here and there, and if I had my wish I would go back and do my entire vocal track again:) Probably each one of us will listen and say, "ooh, i could have done that part better."

At the end of the day, though, the whole thing still makes me smile. I hope that the others who played on this incredible project, and everybody who had a part from running cable to sitting in the audience will be able to listen to it and say the same thing.

My Psychological Issues

2006-10-22T19:04:00.000-04:00

I've made an important discovery today in terms of my issues. My distrust of people and situations, my inability to believe that good things will last, my tendency to "psych myself out" whenever I'm winning at sports or am favored or expected to win at something. I've decided where all of those issues have come from.

The fault lies entirely with growing up as a Cleveland Browns fan - I blame them completely. To this day, I still watch them every chance I get. You might call me a glutton for punishment, I call it an addiction that I can't walk away from. I'd prefer to think of myself as a true fan, you know? Not a fair-weather fan who only endures the games when the team is winning. The only problem is, there hasn't been any fair weather in cleveland in a VERY long time. I've watched through the ups and down, through the Tim Couch era (shudder), and for those three long years when there was no football in Cleveland, I watched very little at all. Today I just got finished watching my Browns get pummeled (yet again) by the Denver Broncos (yet again.)

I remember very clearly when the Browns were good. It was 20 years ago, when Art Modell owned the team before he moved it to Baltimore and became the Ravens (who, by the way, actually HAVE won a superbowl.) I wanted to throw the football sidearm just like Bernie Kosar (I remember being very happy for him when he ended up in Dallas. He got to take one snap in a superbowl victory - finally getting a ring). I used to watch in awe at Michael Dean Perry got quick jumps off the line at the snap, threading the opponents offensive line before they could even get in their stance. Clay Matthews, Earnest Byner, Kevin Mack, and my favorite of all - Eric Metcalf. These were my heroes growing up near Cleveland. Every Sunday was a ritual of cheering for the browns.

Here is the problem - as good as they were, they never won the big game. They didn't even made it to the superbowl. They were always just a few seconds away from winning, never actually the winners. Historically, the Browns have a way of blowing leads, or making exciting, heart-pounding almost-comebacks that make you think they are going to win and then come up just short. I blame my inability to believe that good things will last on them.

But even though I am a victim of the Cleveland NFL Franchise, I've decided that there is something I ought to do about it. I'm going to sue. I'm going to sue Art Modell for making me think they were going to win. I'm going to sue Earnest Byner for fumbling the championship away in '87. I'm going to sue John Elway for making the last minute drive for Denver in '86. Those are two heart-breaking memories for any Browns fan. I'm going to sue CBS for unnecessary emotional pain for showing those heart-wrenching moments from the '86 and '87 champoinships in the closing minutes of today's game, forcing those of us cursed to cheer for the Browns to relive those emotional scars once again. I'm going to sue the entire city of Cleveland for not winning at SOMETHING. When the Indians are hot, when the Browns are hot, heck 20 years ago the Cavs got hot - but none of them were ever really hot enough to win the big games.

Now I live in Michigan. It's true, the Lions have just as bad of a record as the Browns (with probably less hope of improving anytime soon), but right now the Tigers are playing game 2 in the World Series. Since I've moved here, the Red Wings have won the Stanley Cup, and the Pistons have won the NBA Championships. If the Lions ever got a winning season, I might be able to consider Michigan the rehab for my Cleveland upbringing.

As it is, I suppose I will continue not to trust. People tell me that because of my suspicion and somewhat jaded-ness, that they would think I grew up in a broken home. Not true. I have a wonderful family, incredibly loving and supportive parents, and a great support network. My only issue is -- I grew up in Cleveland.

one of those moments

2006-10-12T15:11:00.000-04:00

I've been getting my music gear set up at home. This is a room in our house that has been a lot of things. It started out as our bedroom, then it was an office/guest room, then we moved the guest bed out and made it a toy room.

Well since we added on to the house, it didn't get used as a toy room too much, so somehow I managed to convince my wife to turn it into a music room. I don't know how that happened, but she agreed to it.

I used all the guitar hangers I had on hand, but there were still a few instruments laying around not on the wall, and this, my friends, is not acceptable. I had a bass and 12 string to hang up, so I ordered 2 more hangers off Ebay.

They came yesterday, and I was in the process of hanging the first one - And then this is one of those moments that I will cherish absolutely forever.

I was hanging the first of my new hangers on the wall, and turn around to find my 2 year old with one of his acoustic guitars in his hand, looking up at me with those big blue puppy dog eyes, "Lower, daddy. Put it lower!"

Ya, how could I resist that? As you can see, his two acoustics have their own low hooks on the wall, and my bass is still on the tree stand. I have a feeling that when I hang up my bass, his little tikes electric is going to need another one:)

my girl

2006-07-19T20:21:00.000-04:00

I just have to tell you all how proud I am of my wife. Sunday morning I was watching her (as I do from time to time when she doesn’t think I’m looking) interact with a bunch of kids at church. She was leading them around the facility, keeping them in line (how exactly do you do that, anyway?). She was working her way through the group, interacting with each kid, calling them by name, making them feel special. I watched how each one of them lit up when she paid personal attention to them.

I was impressed by that, because although I feel very strongly in the importance of interacting with the kids at church, I couldn’t do it. I’m not gifted that way. Give me a room full of 5 year olds and I will be duct taped to the floor in under 12 minutes, I assure you. But somehow this wife of mine leads them to something great. I really don’t know how she does that, but I’m glad that she does.

She possesses strengths that I simply don’t have. When I was single and living on my own, I had my cable shut off and my newspaper stop delivery. Why? It’s not because I didn’t have the money to pay them, I simply forgot. I don’t know how many times you have to forget before they actually come out and turn off your cable, but that’s how many times I have the capacity to forget things. She thrives on organization in a way that I will probably never understand but am exceptionally grateful for.

Right now she is doing our budget. Again. She pays very close attention to it. I think she actually balances the checkbook every single day. Maybe she takes Sundays off, I don’t know. She keeps the money flowing the direction that it needs to go and everybody gets paid that needs to get paid. That’s a great mystery to me how that works.

Here is another mystery. Every now and then, my undershirts disappear and are replaced by brand new ones. I didn’t know that you were supposed to throw undershirts away, but apparently those things do actually have a shelf life. I don’t know what the time frame is for a t shirt, but all I know is that every now and then they move away, and new ones move in to take their place. I don’t know how they even know its time to move on, but somehow they do.

I think about all the things I was when I was single – I was carefree, independent, I had all kinds of free time though never any clean laundry, always had extra money to spend on myself.

But then I think about all the things that I am since I got married – happy.

Like I said, it’s a mystery. How does she do that? She possesses strengths that I don’t have and probably never will. She is a good mom, supportive wife, and my very best friend. I am very proud of who she is and wouldn’t want to picture life any different than the way it is right now. With all my faults and moodiness and let's face it I can be hard to live with, somehow she still loves me and takes care of me, and for that I'm grateful.

Anyway, she probably doesn’t hear it enough, so there it is. Just thought you might like to know:)

Make It Yours

2006-07-17T21:34:00.000-04:00

I've been thinking about Linda lately. If you don't know Linda, she's a gal who doesn't get out much these days because of some severe health issues. We used to see her quite a bit at church, when she couldn't sing anymore, she decided to continue by learning sign language. She was on the praise team for a little while leading through sign language before her health problems got to be too much for her.

Anyway, I've been in kind of a reflective mood lately, thinking about where I am and how in the world I got here, and Linda is actually a key part of it. With all the work on the CD project, it's kind of cool to look back on the songs that have been written over the last 6 years and the different circumstances I was in when I wrote them.

In college, I wanted to write music but just could never seem to get started. I had a professor who took an interest in me (thank you Brother Read), and spent a lot of time trying to help me. Blank pages were the worst, I could just never seem to get started. He'd try giving me thoughts to get started on, themes, even titles, etc. Finally I started making traction when he started giving me texts. He would take a poem or an old hymn and take away the music, and challenge me to write new music for it.

I think that's when I finally started going with writing music. I could never start from nothing, I needed material or rules to begin with (like start in the key of E and use these chords... etc.) This helped me break out of the block that I was in and begin trying out new material of my own.

When I graduated from college and moved to Michigan, I was still somewhere in between the two places. Enter Linda and her poetry. She worked in Neonatal Intensive Care. I can’t even imagine dealing with premature babies and the related health problems every single day. But that’s what she did. She wrote a poem for one particular family called, “A Miracle of Love” and asked if I might set it to music for her to give to this family.

That set in motion a lot of things, in retrospect. It was when I first got interested in recording and started using computer recording software. It was also an opportunity to keep moving ahead with my songwriting. We recorded the song in the bathroom at our rented office space. I think I still have a picture somewhere of the restroom door with a “recording in progress” sign taped up to it.

After that, Linda and I collaborated on a number of projects. She didn’t have any music background, but sent me lyrics every now and then. Sometimes they struck me and I used them, sometimes I didn’t. The thing for me was that I was able to keep writing songs even though I wasn’t really writing lyrics yet. Soon we started co-writing lyrics, we collaborated on a couple of things that way. On a lot of the more recent stuff, I’ve been able to write my own lyrics.

But you know, I often wonder what would have happened if Linda hadn’t been in my life to keep me going. Would I be writing anything today? Would I have continued to rewrite old hymns or random poetry I found on the internet? I really don’t know, but it makes me wonder.

It’s funny how seemingly inconspicuous events and random people in your life conspire to make you who you are today, you know?

Anyway, here is why I’ve been thinking about all of this, because one of the earliest songs that Linda wrote all of the lyrics to is still around in rotation at Lighthouse. Make It Yours is one of the first songs that we wrote together. Some other songs have come and gone, but that one has something cool about that I can’t quite place. As a song that we’ve been playing for about 5 years now, I wasn’t sure if it was going to make it onto the recording. But you know, we pulled it out last week and started playing it, and it was like hearing it for the first time again.

I don’t know, maybe I analyze stuff too much, but its just cool to see something that was a big part of our lives 5 years ago still hanging around, even though it seems like absolutely everything else in our worlds have changed since then.

So here is the recording of that song from last week’s rehearsal. I’ve been setting up a microphone out in the room to get a basic demo of the songs. It helps when we get together the next week and say, “Now what did we do on this one again?” Hopefully it will give you an idea of what we’re working on, and maybe just a small taste of what to look forward to on the recording.

The 24 hour rule

2006-07-06T09:31:00.000-04:00

I have this rule when it comes to writing songs, I call it my 24 hour rule. When I write something new, I have to wait 24 hours before I let anybody else hear it. This is so that I can listen to it again a day later when I'm not too close to it, and decide if I really like it or not. If I'm still not sure, I might float it by one or two people whose opinions I trust. But generally it takes that long for me to decide if I really do like the song, really do believe in it, etc.

This last time I taught in church, somebody asked me right after the service how I thought I did (I taught on the DaVinci Code, you can hear it on the lcmchurch website). I think I was a little surprised that I couldn't really come up with an answer. Upon further reflection, I think it has to do with the 24 hour rule. Writing a sermon is a lot like writing a song, and it is always a work in progress right up until it is delivered on Sunday mornings. In fact, this last time I left for church still not knowing how I was going to end it. I had some thoughts and options rolling around in my head, but still no definite direction. I know I tend to procrastinate as well, but this is actually something different from procrastination. Call it living in the moment or whatever you'd like, but the message is not actually written and finished until after it is delivered.

That means that according to my 24 hour rule I probably can't really tell if I liked it or not until Monday morning:) So when the question came on Sunday, I couldn't come up with an answer.

Now that I've had time to reflect, I think I can answer the question a little clearer:
I believe whole heartedly in what I said. I believe very strongly in the conclusions that I reached and presented. I believe that the reason people prefer Dan Brown's version of history is because the Church has left so much room for doubt throughout history. I believe that the reason people doubt God today is because the Church has left little room for the world to believe in it. I also believe that if the Church were really in her glory, if the Church was working the way that it ought to be, the mirror image of God on earth, that nobody would pay much attention to stuff like the DaVinci code. I honestly believe it wouldn't really matter, and that if Christians want to get upset about people reading and believing secret histories and bloodlines, then we really have only ourselves to blame.

The challenge to a message like this is trying to put it in a positive light. You certainly can't put a positive spin on the crusades or the inquisition or witch trials. There is no way to "spin" that and we shouldn't even try. But if you look at the good that the Church does, has done, and can do, even as fragmented as it might be throughout history, think about what it could still do. Think about what God's people could do if we only acted like God's people! What kind of a difference would that make?

It might be hard to swallow. I think people might have come to hear about the DaVinci code so that I could tell them why we are right and everyone else is wrong. I'm afraid that it is not that simple. But here is the key, and this is what makes it worth talking about and taking up this random space on the web -- we can do better. Those of us who call ourselves Christians can live the way that Jesus taught us to live. We can spend time going after the things that actually honor God, and not the thing that only make us fell more important than everyone else. We can actually love our neighbors, and not pass by them and hope for the best. We can actually love our enemies, and stop wishing them the worst. We can share our surplus with those who don't have enough, we can settle for nothing less than truth and honesty in our own lives. In short, we can be Christlike.

Now who wouldn't want to be a part of a church like that?

hard working momentum

2006-06-22T12:27:00.000-04:00

I sit here trying to think of a more descriptive title for this post. The hard part. Tough stuff. I can't really come up with one.

The recording project is coming along quite well. We've had a total of 3 rehearsals now. You know, just getting everybody together on one night is hard to do. The amount of schedules that have to be rearranged alone makes it tough, and add to that that I think we all miss our bedtimes in order to be a part of this thing:)

I posted a couple of weeks ago about how electric and exciting rehearsal is with a great band, and that is every bit as true today as it was then. But you know, it's also hard work. Excitement and electricity don't carry you through to the finish line, do they. There is a time when hard work is called for, and if you are going to keep up your momentum, there is a lot of study, and sweat, and practice that will go into that.

I'm playing my guitar more these days than I ever have. I think you go through periods of time of rediscovery and then periods of time where you plateau a bit. I would have to call this period a time of rediscovery and new growth. The difference is, I find myself pulling out the guitar a bit even when I don't really feel like it. Now there's a concept, isn't it? Actually practicing when you don't want to. Imagine that.

I'm hoping that everybody else involved is doing the same kind of things I am. I know that there are times in rehearsal when I say, "let's do it again." and they have to be thinking, "Not one more time through the same song! We've been playing it for an hour!" I know they have to be thinking that because sometimes I am thinking that. Oh man, here we go again.

But oh, every time we play it gets a little tighter, the notes get a little clearer, the rests get a little more pronounced, the dynamics make a little more sense. Everybody listens to each other a little bit more, and we play together a little bit more like a unit.

I don't think you have to look real hard to see the parallels here. There have to be times when we are tired and up past our bedtimes, and don't want to do the one thing that still has to be done. There have to be times when we don't feel like studying, don't feel like reading, don't feel like spending time with the people that we love the most. There are times when we just want to veg out on the couch and get lost in something mind-numbing. But oh man, every time we do the hard stuff we get a little stronger, a little more faithful, and dare I say - a little more Christ-like?

The Things I Do

2006-06-12T17:35:00.000-04:00

So I have to say, having whipped cream thrown in your face is not exactly the best way to spend an afternoon. There are a lot of things I could think of that would be more fun -- like fishing, bowling, maybe going to the dentist...

ok maybe not the dentist.

When whipped cream gets in your hair and dries, it hardens like a really stiff gel. Actually, I think it probably holds a little bit better than the gel I use. It would make a very nice substitute if not for the smell. You see, getting covered in it means you have dairy product smeared all over you, soaked into your clothes and other places, and then standing out in the sun pretty much guarantees the smell of sour milk will follow you wherever you go.

I did learn that if you were in an industrial setting and perhaps forgot your ear plugs, whipped cream would do quite nicely. If you need a little ear protection for your hearing and don't have any foam plugs around, grab a can of reddi whip, stick it in your ear, and let 'er go. You will be in your own, quiet little world of white frosting in no time. My first customers managed to block out my hearing quite nicely with just such a maneuver - And by the way Adam, I'm pretty sure it did hurt me more than it hurt you. Thanks anyway:)

The application of whipped cream to your eyeballs leaves a milky white texture, which translates into a visual haze. It's kind of a fog effect, giving a little glow to everything you see. I'm told that wearing contact lenses amplifies this effect, but I can only pass that on as hearsay. Everything else I am describing is scientifically proven by direct experience.

When one gets whipped cream in one's nose, one might notice that the entire world will smell like it for the rest of the day. Taking a shower might wash the smell off of you, so the people around you won't notice anything, but have no fear. The smell is still yours to cherish from the amount that got squished up your nose.

Finally, taking a whipped cream pie in the face proves how much one is committed to a cause. To raise money (I believe we sold 44 pies at $5 each to be smooshed into one our our faces) we thought this might be a good idea. Of course, getting the equipment to get a recording done is a real dream of mine. Those other poor suckers were just in the wrong leadership at the wrong time!:)

synergizification

2006-06-07T13:24:00.000-04:00

I haven't written here in a long time.

I don't know if I would consider myself to have been grossly uninspired lately or what, I just haven't been in the writing mode. Partly I think life has been crowding out the space that I really need to be creative and/or reflect. Sandboxes and lawn mowers, flowers and ministry - not to mention the long list of things still left to do.

But now there are some exciting developments, and I guess you could say I'm inspired once again.

We had an awesome band practice last night. I mean really good - better than we've ever had. Partly because of the caliber of the people playing, it makes a big difference. Partly because we rehearsed for 2 hours and covered all of 2 songs. Man, there is so much energy in musicians collaborating and really sweating the details and fine tuning a piece of music. It is really humbling from my perspective because we are fine tuning and sweating songs that I have written (and a couple that I've co-written.)

That's a cool thing. I mean I haven't gotten that much energy from playing 2 songs in a long time. We're rehearsing in anticipation of doing a live recording of a bunch of the stuff I've written.

It's going to be a very long summer - I hate giving up another night of the week. But boy, I'd give up a lot more than that to have another rehearsal like I had last night.

thanks guys and gals who gave up their time to collaborate and inspire with me:)

happy easter to me

2006-04-17T20:21:00.000-04:00

:)
how is it that 640 square inches of cooking surface can make a person so happy?:)

Yee Ha

2006-03-14T14:48:00.000-05:00

Finally made it through final electrical inspection this morning. Only 2 reinspection fees later.

Now only one inspection stands between me and paying higher property taxes!

Generous Grace

2006-03-01T09:12:00.000-05:00

We're watching a video resource from Andy Stanley in our small group. It's nothing fancy, just him preaching, but the content has been very very good. The DVD is called, "Life Rules" and it is all about our relationships with each other.

The last couple weeks have been about this concept of forgiveness, particularly of giving it freely. Since we are in a series at Lighthouse on Generosity, I would say giving forgiveness generously. That somebody hurts you, you give forgiveness. Somebody mistreats you, you give forgiveness. Somebody does wrong by you, you give forgiveness.

It's hard to do. I mean, he makes it sound like forgiveness is your automatic response whenever somebody offends you. Like forgiveness is supposed to become almost a sub-conscious reflex.

How do you forgive? I thought this part was very interesting.
You have to determine what the other person took from you. You have to decide in your mind what they owe you. For example, a person lies to you. They took the opportunity to have an honest relationship away from you. They might have misled you, causing you to make bad choices. They robbed you of all the successes and hopes of making the right choice. A person might owe you 7 years of bitterness that you are carrying around, that person might owe you honesty or money that is rightfully yours.

once you have determined who took what from you - you have to decide that they don't owe you any more. Debts cancelled, forgiven.

That's it. Stanley argues that many times when we say we forgive people, we have never actually determines what they owe us. We just know that we are hurt and try to force ourselves to forgive. But in that case we haven't counted the cost. We have not identified the debt that needs canceling.

If that is not generous, I don't know what is. The be able to make a list of all the things that all the people in the world owe, the things that they took from you or withheld from you, and to say that they don't owe you any more.

That is what it means to be a generous person.

Sometimes They Don't Get It

2006-02-20T14:53:00.000-05:00

Sometimes people just don't get me. That's fine, I can be confusing even to myself - and honestly a lot of the time I don't even get me. I do things or hear words come out of my mouth and think, "Why would I do that?"

Even though sometimes I don't get myself, I guess there is still this hope that somebody will eventually understand me, and then maybe they can clue me in a little bit.

It is really hard to write or teach or present something. Writing is very personal, at least the way I do it. I am a very guarded person, normally. Its just that sitting down with a laptop and an internet connection, somehow hunting for the right combination of keys on the keyboard helps me to sort out what I'm thinking or how I'm feeling. It's the same way writing a sermon or writing a song. It is a part of me, it is part of who I am. It's like taking some of my own hopes, dreams, guts, goals, quirks, and thoughts and splattering them on a page or into a microphone. The end result is something very personal.

The problem is, sometimes people don't like it.

I guess it would be a lot easier to present, write about, sing about something that is not me. It would be way easier to have my "art" misinterpreted or misunderstood or disliked. I could stay aloof and untouchable. I could not care if anybody gets it or likes it. I wonder if that's why you hear so many lame love songs on the radio, written to lovers who don't actually exist. It is a lot easier to lay your fictitious emotions down on a melody than run the risk that people might hear how you really feel and not like it.

It's hard to be real, I think that the world we live in is always looking for the next best thing, the latest and greatest, and what is exceptional today is expected tomorrow. It is hard to be consistently authentic when every time you do it you run the risk of not just your art or work or whatever being slammed, but a part of your own self being destroyed. -- Is that why poets always seem so depressed?

All things considered, it is still the best option. Being yourself, that is. It is more painful probably, but the rewards are greater too. It takes more effort, but in the long run I still believe it is worth it. All it means is that you have to understand up front that sometimes people aren't going to get you. You may find yourself pouring your heart and soul onto a page, or into a song. You might finish it and hold it up triumphantly and declare, "This is the very essence of who I am! This is my most personal work!" And then you have to be willing to let someone read it or hear it and then say, "I don't get it."

That's hard to do. It's hard to not be liked, its hard to be misunderstood. But then sometimes I overlook the people that do get me, the people that do know how I'm feeling or thinking without me even having to say anything. It's like I become so focused on the ones that don't get it that I can miss out of the ones that do. I don't want to do that either.

I guess I'm going to keep doing what I'm doing.
I hope you get it.

What kind of love

2006-01-31T21:23:00.000-05:00

They don’t come any cuter, you know. They really don’t. I finally got my son to bed tonight. A half hour past his bed time he was still running laps around the kitchen, throwing himself down and pretending to be a donkey. “Hee haw, Hee haw” as he crawls straight legged, rubbing his head along the floor.

My son’s unabashed enthusiasm is nothing short of amazing to me. This kid loves life, and he celebrates it every chance he gets. Whether he is grabbing his guitar and mimicking his dad, or naming every animal on his Baby Doolittle video, it is amazing to me to watch this tiny little person run through my house. Just thinking about it literally brings tears to my eyes, I love the kid so much I can hardly stand it.

I think that something wakes up inside you when you fall in love. In this case, the day my son was born something woke up inside me that had somehow still been asleep. I’ve never been one for emotion, I’ll roll my eyes at the sappy heartstring stuff on TV. No matter how dramatic or horrible, I never cried at movies. Ever. It just was never my thing.

The day my son was born that changed. I can’t explain it. All of a sudden, I’m crying at Extreme Makeover Home Edition. I’m crying at the sappy, happy endings. And I’m crying at the mere thought of my boy getting excited, running over to me when I come home from work and throwing his two year old arms around my neck.

It’s not that I’ve never fallen in love before, but I think maybe it was more gradual the first time. I mean, I didn’t meet my wife and the next day cancel all my plans and spend 24 hours a day with her. We moved a lot faster than most, and even so it was a few months before we were engaged. But with my son he suddenly arrived, and boom – this daddy part of me came to life. This part that adores this amazing little creature. The part that delights in his every joy, and hurts at his every tear. This part that can’t think about his happy face, playing a game of “Ringy-Rosie” and cackling as he falls to the ground without a tear or two.

All of this begs a question, though. Why can’t I love God that way? I mean, I always hear stories of the people who can’t talk about Jesus without crying. I remember a professor in college who had a reputation for never being able to get through a lecture on Jesus without tears. Some days I really wish I was one of those people. Not that I want to always have my heart on my sleeve necessarily. But what would it be like to always be so moved, so emotionally invested in what Jesus did for me and the love he has for me to be hardly able to stand it?

Lifehouse sang a song with the lyrics, “How can I stand here with you, and not be moved by you?” Maybe its familiarity – you talk about Jesus dying on the cross every single week, take communion every week – that it loses some of its impact.

Regardless, there is a relationship there, isn’t there? I mean in this case God is the Father and I am the kid, the one who’s joy he delights in. I am the two year old who doesn’t even comprehend what it means to love. We are still trying to teach our son to say, “I Love You.” You’d think he’d have it down by now, as much Barney as that kid watches (shudder.) “Milk” he has down. “Drums” is a natural. But love is a lot harder than that, isn’t it. Maybe he takes for granted the house and family that he has always had, much like I may take for granted the God who has always loved me and who I have never been without.

I want to be one of those guys. You know, the ones who can’t get through the story of what God has done for them without some display of emotion. The ones who can’t talk about their relationship with Jesus, how much they flat out love him without a tear or two.

Love is one of those complicated things. We mean so much by it, but then sometimes it means so little, you know what I mean? I know that God has taught me to understand what love is more fully through my wife, and then through my son. Those relationships have taught me things that I never could have read about and understood otherwise.

So the question remains… now that I understand love more fully, how do I express it to God in that same fullness?

I was thinking about all of this a couple weeks ago, and you know what verse I thought of? 1 John 4:20, “anyone who does not love his brother, whom he has seen, can not love God, whom he has not seen.”

Dang it, not what I was looking for.

I was hoping for some kind of mystical awakening, the kind where you are suddenly enlightened and empowered and you reach a new understanding that changes the way you feel forever.

Could it be that the key to loving God that way, is to love the people in my life that way? And not just the people I like, but the people who really irritate me? I’m not a social butterfly, I don’t like big crowds. When I walk in to a shopping mall or crowded store, I don’t automatically see a store full of potential friends. No, I see a store full of obstacles. People who stand between me and my goal of getting in, getting out, and not being delayed or having to talk to anyone. People in public seem to exist only to slow me down and inconvenience me.

Maybe the feeling toward my “obstacles” is getting in the way of the feeling toward my savior. And maybe, just maybe if I can learn to love the people around me the way I love my family, the way that inspires me, the way I delight in my son’s accomplishment and joy and excitement – then maybe I can love Jesus that same way.

Kicked Out

2006-01-12T19:09:00.000-05:00

My son is having a rough day. Being sick, short nap, carted around in the car this afternoon, then being rudely awoken when we got home after only 30 minutes worth of nap, then not being allowed to play with all the fun instruments daddy has laying all over the house.

So maybe he is just trying to get back at me for not letting him play the piano.

Mommy left to run some stuff out to church tonight, so we get a little daddy and son time. I thought, no problem. We'll play trains, watch some barney, play some guitar, we're all set. But then Aiden hears the word "drums" and wants to go down to the basement to play. Ok, so daddy son time is still on, we can play drums and sing downstairs. So we get the drumsticks, get the drums all situated.

"stairs" Aiden points toward the stairs.

"You want to go upstairs now buddy?"

"No."

"Ok, what do you want?"

At this point, he comes over and grabs my hand pulling me toward the stairs.
"You want to go take a bath?" I ask.

He pushes me toward the stairs and points up them. "Stairs" he says again.

"You want daddy to go upstairs?"

"Uh-huh."

"You mean daddy can't listen to you play drums?"

"Bye"

Subtle. He gets his subtlety from me, I think.
So what's the deal? Am I suddenly an embarassment? Are we suddenly afriad to play in front of other people? The kid is two for crying out loud. And now I'm upstairs, and I can hear him downstairs banging on drums.

It's actually not a bad system. as long as I hear drums, I know he is still breathing and not getting into trouble. When the drums stop, I go check on him. Of course, he usually just repeats the "stairs" directive for me to go elsewhere. such is life

Exchanging the guitar

2005-12-07T11:00:00.000-05:00

I exchanged the guitar.

The beautiful, beautiful gift that was given to me three months ago by my very cool, very wonderful church. The next time I play you will see a different guitar in my hands. Let me explain:

Shopping for a guitar is a very personal thing. It is extremely difficult to pick a guitar for another person. Even so, I loved the 714 the I received. They tried everything to get the information from me without my knowing it. They even had my brother call me with a hidden agenda of extracting information from me, what guitars I was looking at, what my next purchase would be, etc.

It was all very well done, I was blown away and completely surprised. The guitar that I had played at the guitar store and loved, they bought for me. There was only one problem. Had I known I was actually shopping for a guitar and not just dreaming, I would have put a whole lot more effort into it. I only played 2 or 3 guitars before I settled on liking the 714. If I actually had the money to spend, I would have driven to the larger acoustic store in Lansing and played more like 15 or 20 of them.

Which is what I eventually did.

The 714 is a beautiful guitar with a to die for tone. The only problem is that it is a fairly small guitar, and small guitars don't react well to being hit hard. When you strum a smaller bodied guitar hard, it doesn't respond with more energy or a fuller tone. In fact, the tone kind of falls flat when you hit it harder than it was designed for. The smaller guitar is even designed only for light gauge strings, instead f the mediums I am used to playing on.

And who are we kidding - I'm never really going to be able to not hit a guitar hard.

There was a moment when I was playing the 714 at the baptism picnic when it was just me and the guitar and I listened to it and thought, "something is missing here." There was just a fullness missing from the tone when I played it the way I was used to.

This sent me on the trek to Lansing to Elderly instruments where I played an 815 that I just fell in love with. It has the big body, big tone I was looking for. Back to Guitar Center in Grand Rapids to return the 714 (within the 30 days I had to return it). The guy that sold the guitar in the first place somehow managed to talk me in to ordering an 815 through him. Probably because he almost matched the 714 price and let me keep it until the 815 came in.

The only problem was that there weren't any in stock... anywhere. This meant that Taylor would have to build me a brand new one, and that would take about 3 months.

I'm happy to tell you that 3 months are over, and the new 815 is here. I just picked it up Monday and have yet to put it down:) The big sound is there, but the feel of it is so much smoother and quicker than my old 310, it is a little slice of guitar heaven to play it.

When I hit the chord now, there is just a moment where it feels like, "Ah. That's what a guitar ought to sound like." Not to mention the thing is just beautiful to look at.

For those who might sit in church on Sunday and think, "Hey, that looks like a different guitar," that is why.

For those who would never have noticed anyway... Never mind:)

Power? We don't need no stinking power.

2005-11-08T13:22:00.000-05:00

Midway through the third song on Sunday morning, things suddenly got very dark. The power went out on the church building, and we were suddenly sitting in a windowless room with the only light coming from the emergency lights at the exits.

I've never preached in the dark before, but I have to say it was kind of fun. There was a totally different atmosphere in the room when you came in, especially second service when we had the candles lit. There were even some who came second service because their own churches were closed, cancelled services for lack of power.

Paul said in the New Testament that his preaching relied not on wise and persuasive words but the power of God. It's like he didn't want anybody to think he was so great a preacher, he just wanted them to connect with God. That's a hard place to stay. It's hard because you want to be good at what you do, you want people to find value in it, but at the same time you don't want to get between people and God.

We do a lot of things on Sundays to make the worship experience the best that we can. We use lighting, sounds, multimedia and graphics to draw people into worship and illustrate how great God is. But you know what? Even if you take away all those things, take away all the impressive elements that a church is capable of, I'd like to think that there is still something worth coming to. I'd like to think that the power of a church does not rest on it's technological toys and order of service, and that a church's impact on its community is not limited to its multimedia capability. I'd like to think that if "church" were nothing but a dark room, a few candles, and the word of God - that would be enough.

All the rest are tools, they are things that we use but we must never forget that their true power comes from God himself. That even when the lights go out, there is still power in the church.

What a great reminder of that we got to experience this week.

Michigan Hurricane Season

2005-10-31T13:40:00.000-05:00

So I am through the rigors of my rough-in inspection. No bribes needed to be given, no first born children needed to be offered, and the township and I are at peace with one another.

So maybe I got myself worked up over nothing. I mean, I was sweating it. I was sick to my stomach worried about this silly inspection. I was so afraid the inspector would come in with his cloak and sickle, remove the dark hood from his head revealing two glowing lights where eyes should be, pull out his magnifying glass and start looking at the wood grain of every board I used. "Hmm, this species of spruce reaches maturity later than I would like, replace this board with a freshly hewn stud from a forest in Northern Michigan. This one is clearly from Indiana and doesn't pass code here." So off I would go with my axe into the forests of northern Michigan, looking for that one perfect pine to bring home on the hood of my Taurus and harvest into acceptable lumber for my family room.

I thought he might bring in his tape measure and measure every space between every stud, rafter, and floor joist. I was prepared to spend the afternoon drawing charts and diagrams and taking down measurements to fix the one rafter that is off by 1/2". I was ready to haul a load of concrete block underneath the house when he changed his mind and decided that due to new code requirements, the span of my floor was now 2" too long.

I was prepared for all of this. And, of course in case he came in and said, "No, the roof is all wrong. Take it off and start again." I was prepared with a can of lighter fluid, a match, and a really good cover story.

As it was, he was here for maybe 7 or 8 minutes. We chit-chatted about the weather and the drum set sitting conspicuously in the laundry room (I mean really, who keeps a drum set in the laundry room?) He pointed out the ventilation I needed to install, and said he would have to check his books to see if I could use one jack stud for the patio door header instead of the usual two (oops.) Then he kind of frowned and said, "You don't have any hurricane straps."

Now in my defense, I have lived in this wonderful state for over 5 years now. Hurricanes in the last five years? Zero. So while I understand the concept behind them, and fully intended on installing them just in case they were required, I couldn't figure out how to attach them due to my less than conventional rafters.

He gave me a couple ideas on how to install them and he was on his way, but insisted they would need to be up before he came back to inspect again. So, I took his advice and installed my little 8" by 2" pieces of metal on every rafter. I am now confident that if the wind blew hard enough that my entire roof were about to lift off like a kite (the shingles alone weigh literally more than a ton), my little pieces of metal would hold it securely in place.

The next day the guy called back and informed that I could "get away" with the single jack stud under the patio door header. This was extremely good new, seeing as how replacing that header with one that was 3 inches longer would be an enormously longer project than I was looking for at that particular time.

So with Hurricane season nearing its end, we are safe and secure in our inspected and now insulated family room addition. Now comes drywall - and the best news of all...

No more inspections until it is all done:)

The Long Wait

2005-10-24T11:11:00.000-04:00

Tomorrow between 2:30 and 4:30. It is the moment I have both longed for and dreaded for the past few months. It is time to face the building inspector.

Tomorrow is my rough-in inspection. Rather, I should say my first rough-in inspection. I'm going to go ahead and say that I'm not going to pass, that he is going to red flag all kinds of stuff for me to fix, so that way I don't get my hopes up and get too excited about moving on and getting insulation installed or anything.

It is a two-edged sword, because this has to be done in order to move on and finish the project, but at the same time he has the power to say say, "No, why don't you take the whole roof off and start over again." OK, that is probably extreme, but the thought of a guy going around with a tape measure and a fine toothed comb examining my building job, that's a little scary.

You could argue that it is for my own good, and that if I did it correctly I don't have anything to worry about. You could also argue that if I did something incorrectly I should want to know about it and make corrections so that the building is strong and lasts and is a good investment.

This is true, but it sure is a lot easier to just put the material together in whatever way I can make it fit, and call it good. I'd rather be able to fudge it a bit and not have to worry about the codes and regulations. That would make the whole thing go a lot faster, that is for sure.

So tomorrow my hobby as an amateur builder goes on display for the building inspector for the first time.

It kind of makes me think - I wonder if that's why people want to keep God at a distance, why they try to avoid church and anything that smacks of religious significance. Is it because they get this perception that God is some kind of cosmic building inspector who combs through your life and garbage looking for mistakes that he can point out and make you try to repair?

We might argue that this is for your own good, that correcting the messes that we've made in our amateur approach to spirituality will only lead to a stronger, healthier you with more self-worth and confidence then you have now.

We might argue that, but it doesn't make it any easier. Who wants to go through the microscope? Who wants to be exposed to such scrutiny and testing? Not me. I'm sitting here sweating an inspection of my own tomorrow - and that's only for a building. I mean, think about the comparison in investment. Ya, there is a lot of money invested in my family room project, but how much more of an investment is it for me to try to lead my own soul? A mistake in my house could cost me thousands of dollars, but what would a mistake in my spirit cost me?

I don't think that God is a cosmic building inspector. I don't think that he has a giant stack of red stickers ready to place them all over our spiritual life. There might be a time and place for that, and he definitely does correct us, but I don't think that he makes a list of demands and says, "fix these things and I'll be back on Thursday." That's not who God is. A relationship with God is not contingent on cleaning up a bunch of messes and satisfying a list of rules. I think that there are things he points out to us that he wants us to change, places he wants to inspire us to grow, but these things are always our choice. Our freewill always comes into play here and we say, "Have your own way, God" or God says to us, "Have it your own way." It's just that it is much better to have it God's way, isn't it?

So here I sit, waiting for the building inspector. I'm really stressing out about it. I know that he is going to find fault with something. There will be something that he wants changed or fixed, and I guess I will fix it and move on. And afterwards - well afterwards there is a prize in store for me. It is in the form of a new family room, a place for my family to spend time together, and the first time we will have a room in our house in which more than 4 people can sit comfortably. If I can just keep that in mind, it will be worth the effort and scrutiny.

Will God find fault with me? I know that there are things in my life that have to be changed, places I amateurishly threw a few scraps together and called it good. Do I want God to expose those places and deal with them? Do I want to keep my eye on the prize at the life that God has in store for me?

I guess you'd have to ask me tomorrow:)

The Office

2005-10-18T10:41:00.000-04:00

So I have to admit that I watched "The Office" last week. It's one of those weird kind of shows that I can't really put my finger on. It is not exactly funny, at least not in the traditional sense of funny. You don't laugh when you watch it, you only laugh later when you think about it. Kind of like "Spinal Tap" or "A Mighty Wind" or something along those lines.

Anyway, last week I did laugh out loud at one scene. There is a character in the show who is fairly reserved and kind of a pain. Last week they were playing a game of what three books would you want to have with you on a desert Island.

Her answer - "The Bible." "Well, you still get two more" they told her.
"Ok, The Purpose Driven Life." was her answer. "Ok, you still have one more."
"No thanks, that's it."

OK, now when Steve Carell or John Stewart pokes fun at Christians, they usually poke fun at Christian culture - not the faith itself. And you know what? Just like this instance, they are often dead on. That the conservative Christian community believes that the end all and be all of ALL Christian literature of ALL TIME consists of one book written in the last few years - that to me is hilarious. Not because Purpose Driven Life isn't a good book, it is a huge success for Rick Warren and has done a lot of good for a lot of people.

Think about it - Warren is like the Bill Gates of the church. You know, if you own a PC, you are running a program from Bill Gates. Well, if you are involved in a church, then chances are you are running a program of Warren's as well. The funny thing about that is that it doesn't matter even what denomination you are a part of. Methodist, Presbyterian, EV Free, etc... It doesn't make much difference anymore, because everybody is still reading the Purpose Driven Life. Somebody asked one of my professors, "Who is the most influential preacher in the Restoration Movement?" His answer - "Rick Warren." Forget the fact that Rick Warren is not a PART of the Restoration movement, he still has an enormous influence there.

I think that all of this points toward a positive trend, and even if I have been poking a little fun here, I don't mean any harm by it. The Church, the Church with a capital "C", the universal body of Christ seems to be focusing more on what unites it than on what divides it. And that is a very big positive. That there are teachings and methodologies that apply any time, any where and a Methodist minister and a Lutheran pastor can sit down and talk about small groups and connection events and share strategies - well that's just cool.

Even though there is a part of me that is too anti-establishment to really jump for joy when one preacher seems to dominate the popular Christian culture, I think there is still a lot of value there. I just have to laugh when even Hollywood notices.

how many kids?

2005-10-13T15:19:00.000-04:00

OK, before we had a child I remember thinking 3 was a pretty good number for how many children to have. I think my wife (though she now denies this) originally started saying about 5 was a good number. Well, now that we have one, we think that one is a wonderful number. That is not to say that we don't plan on having more again in the future sometime - but we are in no hurry and are enjoying just being the three of us.

I only reflect on this because of this article I just read - Click here to check it out for yourself - 16 kids and counting...

Dude - that's nuts.

Something different

2005-10-10T12:00:00.000-04:00

I'm sitting here listening to Shawn McDonald's live album. I have to tell you, I LOVE hearing somebody who is different. Shawn had some success with his last album, he got some radio airplay with the single "Gravity."

I saw Shawn open for David Crowder about a year ago. It was funny, because the first band to play was a big rock band. They had the full on rock sound going, very loud and very big. Then Shawn comes out with just his guitar. I thought, "No way this guy is going to follow that and open for Crowder with just a guitar." I have to tell you, Shawn stole the entire show for me that night. I liked his music and presentation better than anybody else who played that concert.

The only problem I was having is that hearing him live is awesome because it showcases his gritty, honest vocals so well. But his album was produced and slick, and I think it lost some of its power. Now that he has a "Live in Seattle" album out you can hear what it sounds like at a Shawn McDonald concert - and that is awesome.

Shawn is actually one of the reasons I bought an MP3 player - I get tired of the sounds coming from the radio after a while. The "top 40" style that the CCM machine cranks out kind of blurs together and becomes background noise. That's what makes something so different sound so very refreshing.

If you haven't checked out this guy yet, pick up his live album. It's just him and his guitar, and maybe a cello and backup vocal scattered here and there.

worthy words

2005-10-10T09:54:00.000-04:00

Jeremiah 15:19 is like one of my theme verses. You know those verses or quotes that just seem to sum up what you want your life to be about like nothing else seems to be able to? That's what this verse is to me.

Therefore this is what the Lord says:
If you repent, I will restore you that you may serve me;
If you utter worthy, not worthless, words, you will be my spokesman.
Let this people turn to you, but you must not turn to them.

The only way to be a spokesman for God is to speak words that are worthy. Think about the words that you use everyday. Would they be considered worthy or worthless?

I have this thing about talking - I don't do a lot of it. In a social situation, I prefer to sit and listen to what other people are saying. Do you know what I hear? Not much. Most of the subjects of conversation I hear don't amount to much. There is talk about the weather, sports, road construction, politics, stories about this or that, TV shows. So much of the content of our conversation is about things that won't matter a month from now, much less years from now.

No wonder we have so much trouble hearing God in the world around us. Where are His spokesmen? We are so busy talking about things that won't live past the day, that there is hardly any room to talk about the things that really matter.

It's a reminder to me that if I want to make any kind of difference in my generation, I'd better make sure that the things that come out of my mouth are worth saying, things that not only I consider to be worthy, but things that ultimately God thinks are worth saying.

Cry out

2005-10-05T09:08:00.000-04:00

Psalm 34: 17-18
The righteous cry out, and the LORD hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles.
The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

So last night I got in bed about 10:30. It never fails that no sooner do I close my eyes than I begin to hear a soft cry coming from my son's room across the hall. He starts quietly and we wait to see if it is just a moment that will pass and he will fall back to sleep, or if we is really awake and will escalate into a full blown cry.

Last night the cry got louder and louder, kind of winding up and down, getting louder and softer. Well, by now these two parents can sleep through a pretty loud cry and let the boy simply go back to sleep on his own. But last night Aiden said the two magic words that work every single time.

"Mommma... Daaaddy..."

OK, we surrender. Katie pops right up and goes to his room, scoops him up in her arms and brings him back into our bed where he falls peacefully to sleep in between us. We can hold out through crying, but we are total suckers when he starts asking for Momma and Daddy.

You know what though? I wouldn't change it. I want my boy to ask for me when he is scared, or tired and just can't fall asleep. If he just laid there and thought, "I'm going to get through this my own self, I'll talk myself out of being scared or tired" I would be heartbroken. I want him to ask for me, I want to bring him into our room where it is safe and I want him to snuggle up next to me and fall peacefully asleep.

"For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry "Abba, Father." " - Rom 8:15

The American dream

2005-09-13T10:38:00.000-04:00

I heard somebody over the weekend talking about the American dream, and his desire that we would "get past it."

I really had to stop and think about it for a minute. I mean, the American dream is the American ideal. It is supposedly what all Americans are chasing after. You work hard at a profession you somewhat enjoy, try to make a good life for your family. You keep your lawn nicely mowed (well, I missed out on that one), live in a nice house, and take nice vacations. You drive a car that is reliable and hopefully doesn't cost you too much in gas, or if it does at least you can tow really heavy stuff, like a fifth wheel to take your nice vacations in.

I know that I buy into this stuff, I want the nice house and vacations, I want to make a good life for my family. But somehow there is always this tension that exists for me, trying to keep it all in the proper priority. Rich Mullins said, "the stuff of earth competes for the allegiance I owe only to the giver of all good things." It really makes me think, what am I living for?

There has to be more to life than nice cars and jobs and houses. There just has to. If that is all that life is, then "let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die." I know that there is more, but somehow in the midst of my gadgets and toys I forget that there is more to life than how many songs I can fit on my MP3 player.

There is more to America than the American dream, I know that there is. It's just that some days we need a reminder that there is more to this life.

The help of man

2005-08-30T08:54:00.000-04:00

Psalm 108:12 Give us aid against the enemy, for the help of man is worthless

I have this thing about reading books instead of reading the Bible. There are a lot of really good, God-honoring books out there by a wide range of Christian authors. I think they have a lot of value. I know that I have been personally blessed by the works of AW Tozer, CS Lewis, Brother Lawrence, and more recently even Mark Buchanan and Andy Stanley. All these men wrote words that inspired me and forced me to take a long hard look at myself and my life and make some hard changes. For that I am quite grateful.

The fact remains, though, that none of these works can replace the word of God. I can spend 3 hours in a great CS Lewis book, but if I don't open the Bible and spend time there as well, what good is it? I hear all the time, "Well, this book I'm reading has a lot of scripture in it." That's a good thing, it is one of the marks of a good book and the way a person quotes scripture can tell you a lot about them. But when a book has a Bible verse in it, do you read it the same way that you read the author's words? I don't. Often times I'm so familiar with it that I just skip right over it, or I am presented with such a small verse that I have no idea if the context is correct or not.

I would not be where I am without Aiden and Clive (Tozer and Lewis, we're on a first name basis), but an even greater tragedy would be to exchange the reading of the actual words of God for words written by men about the words of God.

In the shadow

2005-08-23T08:59:00.000-04:00

Psalm 91:1 "He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty."

The image of the shadow is a pretty common one, I think. The shadow of his wings, living in the shadow of the cross, etc. I've heard it a lot but never really stopped to consider what it meant.

A couple months ago we were at the beach. Aiden did what he always does at the beach, runs around like crazy. The only problem was that it was a hot day and he didn't have any sunscreen, and the kid has very fair skin and I didn't want him to burn. Kate went to find the sunscreen, but it took a little while to walk all the way back to the car to get it.

In the meantime, I followed Aiden around wherever he went and cast my shadow over him. If you know my son at all, you know that is a difficult thing to do. If he ever holds still for 5 consecutive seconds it is a miracle. But I didn't want him to get sunburn, so I followed and tried to keep him in the shade as best I could.

That's the only real frame of reference I have to this whole shadow concept, resting in the shadow of the almighty. What does it mean?

1 - I kept Aiden a little cooler. He was more comfortable in the shade than in the hot sun. I provided something for him that he could not provide in his own.
2 - As long as he was in my shadow, it meant I was close by and he was safe. When he wandered into the waves, I was there. When he ran through the beach grass, I was right there with him. Having my shadow meant having me always close by.
3 - I stood in between him and whatever threat he was facing, in this case the sun. Whatever danger there was in getting sunburn I absorbed in my own skin in order to protect his.

I think its that third one that strikes me the most, thought the other two certainly still apply. But especially when I hear the phrase "the shadow of the cross." Living in the cross's shadow means that whatever threat is facing me, the cross is between me and it. It's like the world is coming at me, unloading everything it has to try to trip me up, and the cross takes the heat. It absorbs the danger and the punishment so that I can rest someplace cool and comfortable.

That's the gospel in a nutshell. As long as we look up and see the shadow of the cross, we know we're in the right place.

futility

2005-08-16T09:28:00.000-04:00

Psalm 78:32-33
"In spite of all this, they kept on sinning; in spite of his wonders, they did not believe.
So he ended their days in futility..." (NIV)

I don't want my life to end in futility. I don't want my days to be considered useless, good for nothing. There are certainly days that I feel useless, but I think that this might be talking about more of a useless course in life more than just a day here and there. I mean, these people wandered in the desert their whole lives, never making good on the promise of something better.

You have to believe that there is something better. Otherwise, what is the point?

who am i

2005-08-15T20:46:00.000-04:00

I've been doing a bit of refining lately. Rather, it seems that maybe God has been doing the refining. I've always been somewhat contemplative, so questions of self and meaning and existence are not altogether new to me. What IS new is finding something that resembles an answer.

When the conversation turns to meaning and purpose, I'm always in something of a haze. Yes, I know that the chief end of man is to love God and enjoy him forever. Yes, I know that I am supposed to be God's servant in my generation. Yes, I know that I am supposed to protect my family and serve my wife and son. I know these things, but they are all sort of generalities that can equally apply to anybody.

The whole "40 days of purpose" craze seems to capitalize on this whole haziness that surrounds our life's purpose. The only problem is, I ended up with the same kind of generality I started with. Try this link for a great article on the 40 days of purpose:)

I'm one of those people who thinks that hindsight is really the only way to tell what God is really doing. The best we can do in the moment is the best we can with imperfect information. Time will only tell if the decisions we made and the paths we followed were the correct ones.

So when we talk about our distinct purpose in life and the clear vision of where my life is headed, I don't usually have much to say. I never would have guessed that I'd have ended up where I am now, and I'm always amazed at how much I might have missed if I had set my sights on something else.

I was reading this book by Andy Stanley called, "The Next Generation Leader." Now, I am not usually one for books about leadership either, but this one connected with me in a couple of areas. Specifically about refining what I am about, and only doing the things that I was made to do. Which presents something of a problem - what was I made for?

This is where I am beginning to make progress. Now mind you, it is not the kind of progress where I can sit down with my personal mission statement (smirk) and explain my 5 year plan to you. Rather, it is kind of like a feeling that I might be headed in something close to the right direction. Maybe it is a matter of trying enough wrong answers that I think I'm getting close to the right one. I don't know.

Maybe this is something that comes with a little more age. 5 years ago I cared nothing for the next moment, only the one that I was in. Today, I am still trying to live in and enjoy the moment, but there is also a little bit of perspective on what the next moment might bring as well. I'm starting to learn a little bit about the unique passions and gifts God has given me, and maybe how I can begin to set a course for the future that will take me in a direction that, if it isn't the right one, at least doesn't take me too far away from where God wants me to be.

If this all sounds rather vague -- welcome to my life. Believe me, this is as clear as it has ever been:)

Unfamiliar territory

2005-08-02T10:44:00.000-04:00

I've known for a while now (since December 10, 2003 to be exact) that I have reached a strange and unfamiliar place in life. One such revelation came at a small group dinner, as I watched all the children run around playing together. There was a moment as I sat back and thought, "When did this become my peer group?" When did I sign up to be known as a part of the "parents of young children" group?

Well, I had another such moment yesterday. It happened when Dave, a former college roommate who now lives in Florida, stopped in for a visit. This is what made it an unusual visit for us:

This visit we got to introduce our sons to each other. We no longer talk about all the things we did when we were in college. Now we talk about diapers and sippy cups, food allergies and first words and baby sign language. The guitars we buy and the stuff we accomplish is always tempered with, "Hey, guess what my kid did today..."

I guess that's the way its supposed to be.

Disciplined Grace

2005-07-26T15:45:00.000-04:00

I was just reading an article and picked up my guitar to try to sort my way through what I was reading. Sometimes using my hands to play an instrument or build something gives me time to try to wrap my head around the concepts I'm trying to understand.

This article was about spiritual formation, and becoming an apprentice of Christ rather than just becoming a part of another program. The discussion got into the idea of spiritual disciplines vs grace, and trying to sort out the difference between the two.

I've always had a hard time separating discipline and grace. When my disciplines are going well, I feel pretty good about myself. But then sooner or later I start to rely on my disciplines rather than on God himself, and I stumble. When they are not going so well on the other end of the cycle, I don't feel very good about myself and have a hard time understanding my place in the Kingdom. It's hard because I no less need God when I am disciplined, and yet it doesn't feel that way.

So if I'm saved by grace, I am saved. There is no arguing with that, but the article pointed out that I still have years of habitual lust, envy, pride, etc eating away at me. Those things are not good and are hindrances to me, but they are still there. Even though I already received that grace, the only way to kill the pride, envy, and other nasty stuff is through disciplines like quiet time, fasting, prayer. Those don't make me any more or less a Christian, they just put out the flames of self (to mix the metaphor.)

My hands hurt from practicing my new guitar. Since I received it as a gift, I've wanted to play more. Not only that, but I have wanted to play better. I asked for some advice from someone who plays better than I do, and have been practicing my scales several times a day for the last few days. So much so that my fingers are aching from the sudden surge in their use.

The guitar was a gift, and an expensive gift at that. Someone giving me such a gift inspired me to do something - to play better. To put in the practice time and sweat the scales until I can play better. That's the discipline, to do the work to grow in my skill. I suppose that I could sit and strum a few familiar chords, but for some reason I don't want to do that. Because of the gift that I now have, I want to use it to its full potential.

I think that there are two different ways you can go when you receive a large gift. One is to treat it as precious and let it inspire you to bigger and better things. The other way to go is to treat it as worthless because you paid nothing for it.

Just like grace. I didn't pay for it, I certainly didn't earn it. The gift of Christ and the Cross cost me nothing but was very expensive none the less. I've already received it, I don't need to do anything to get it. Now I guess the only question is, do I want to strum a few familiar chords, or use this gift to its full potential?

It's all about perspective

2005-07-26T09:24:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I have a hard time thinking about the Old Testament. I read about King David and the great triumphs of his day, about his mighty military strength and all that. To read the Old Testament you get the impression that Israel was the center of the civilized world.

I have a hard time because then I remember learning in ancient world history that Israel, from a historical perspective, was a backwards little country that actually never amounted to much of anything. There are references to it in other ancient cultures, but usually they are about how they conquered the Hebrews or captured them. It's like Israel was the whipping boy for the rest of the world. Even in the Old Testament, ever tried to count how many times they were defeated in battle or captured or carried away as slaves?

The only notable exception was during the reign of David, but even then it seems that the rest of the known world seemed to be in something of a state of chaos and weakness. Even Israels greatest days seemed to come from the rest of the world's weakness. From a purely historical perspective, it seems that God's people were not people of great influence in the world, and the rest of the world barely took notice of them.

Maybe it is because I read it from an American perspective, and I can't imagine growing up in a country that is not a "superpower." Whatever the reason, that's a kind of discouraging perspective. Not only because reading the Old Testament we are cheering for the heroes we find there, but also because God's people were supposed to be a light to the entire world. How is it that the rest of the world could walk around in darkness without even noticing that light? Sometimes I have a hard time reading the psalms because I think of the larger perspective of the ancient world.

But then I forget that there is an even larger perspective to keep in mind, and for some reason this is the one that keeps slipping my mind. Psalm 49 is a great reminder of this. Verse 10, "For all can see that wise men die, the foolish and the senseless alike perish and leave their wealth to others. Their tombs will remain their houses forever, their dwellings for endless generations, though they had named lands after themselves."

Geographical boundaries and names of countries. What does it all really matter anyway? If one country was strong and another was weak, don't they both end up in the same place? Even if America is one of the greatest countries in the world, that only lasts for so long. And what ever became of the founders of this great country? Well, we read about them in history books, they get their likenesses all over our money. But that's about it.

There is always a larger perspective of eternity that has to be accounted for. Naming a land after yourself is one thing, naming a hospital or building after yourself leaves a legacy for a finite number of years. But then what?

With that larger perspective in mind, we can see what God was doing in a backwards little country called Israel. Their socioeconomic impact might have been small in their day, but look what has happened since then. Not only that, but what will continue to happen in our lives for eternity.

That's not right

2005-07-21T09:15:00.000-04:00

Luke 6, Jesus is teaching on the Sabbath and there is a guy there with a shriveled hand. Everybody wants to know, what is Jesus going to do with this moral dilemma? On one hand, if he heals the man on the Sabbath day, then he is in violation of the law. But on the other hand, if he ignores the man and does not heal him, he is inconsiderate and uncaring. Everybody watches closely to see what will happen.
Jesus tells the man to stretch out his hand, and it is healed. Verse 11 - "But they were furious..."

It makes we wonder if I've ever been furious with what God has chosen to do. When have I wanted something a particular way and he chose to do something else, maybe something a little more unconventional. We have our neat little boundaries, our boxes in which we feel God belongs. He may contact this part of our lives but not this one, he is welcome here but not over there. God you can clean up this mess, but I'm going to continue wallowing in that mess over there, so please don't bother.

They were furious. Jesus crosses those lines, breaks out of those boundaries. Tell him how far he may go, and he will almost certainly go another step farther. Tell him to go away and leave you alone, you are asking for him to mess with you even more. If the grave was not a boundary that he was willing to stay within, how much more can we expect our own ideologies of what a God must or must not do to hold him?

It's unconventional, its not normal. There are certain set, sociological accepted ways of doing things, and he is not playing by the rules. It just isn't done this way! They were furious.

I wanted him to heal my disease, and instead he healed my soul.
I wanted him to heal my brokenness, and instead he brought me other broken people to help heal.
I wanted him to give me the desires of my heart, and instead he gave me only enough for today.
I wanted him to make me strong, and instead he made me weak.
I wanted him to make me wise, and instead he made me a fool.
I wanted the world, he gave me a few close friends.
I wanted to be free, he made me a slave to his own righteousness.

But they were furious...
It's unconventional, that's not how it is supposed to be, this is not the correct procedure. How many times have we been furious? I suppose it is all a matter of perspective (it usually is). He has a perspective on this life that we do not, and as such makes greater choices than we do. It's just that sometimes knowing that doesn't necessarily make it any easier to swallow.

Boasting

2005-07-19T08:45:00.000-04:00

As I finished yesterday's post, I started feeling a little guilty. Partly it was because I'm being blessed in my life far beyond - far far beyond - what I deserve. I've heard Dave Ramsey on the radio a few times, and every time somebody asks him how he is doing, he has the same answer - "Better than I deserve." I might pick up that same answer except I don't want to just be a copy cat.

But its true, I am doing better than I deserve. Partly I felt a little guilty because here I am, with blessing after blessing just being poured into my lap, and what did I do to deserve any of it? I know, I know, that's the meaning of grace, but it is still hard to accept. If it is hard to accept a compliment you know you don't really deserve from a person, how much harder is it to accept blessing that you don't deserve from a God who knows it?

But that's only part of it. Mostly I felt a little guilty because I fear that people might read this post, and they aren't in the same place that I am today. They don't see the blessing, they don't feel the grace, and they will get upset and bitter to hear how somebody else has it so good, while they have it so terrible. I know I've been there, wondering why the blessing on someone else I didn't feel was really worthy, and why was I stuck in the same rut I'd been in for way too long. It didn't make sense, and I hat to think that I might put somebody else in that place.

Then I opened my Bible this morning to Psalm 34. "I will extol the Lord at all times; his praise will always be on my lips." Now right away when I read something like that, I have to ask myself if I could honestly make that statement. Of course the answer is no, but I wish I could say yes. My lips are at times full of grumbling, jealousy, bitterness, despair. It happens. I want very much to get to the place in life where I can say like the song says, "When the darkness closes in, still I will say - blessed be the name of the Lord." That's how I want to live my life, its just that when the darkness actually does close in, I forget.

Verse 2 - "My soul will boast in the Lord, let the afflicted hear and rejoice." whoa, that's a different perspective from what I've had. I assumed that if I was boasting about what God has done, it would send a hurting person into a tailspin of despair. I know that has been my attitude when I'm hurting. But here the idea is for the hurting person to hear what God has done and instead of despairing to rejoice. To say, "You're right, God is good. Even though I don't see it in my life today, I know that it is true and I know that he has something great in store for me." That's the whole point of boasting in the Lord. I guess the difference is what you are boasting about. If you boast about worldly things (ha ha, I got a new guitar) you only provoke envy. But if you boast about Godly things (Hey, look what God has done in my life) the you are provoking rejoicing.

Then verse 3 - "Glorify the Lord with me, let us exalt his name together." That's where this is supposed to end up. The praising person and the hurting person come to a place where they can praise God together.

This is the same Psalm that says, "The Righteous cry out and the Lord hears them, he delivers them from all their trouble. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, and saves those who are crushed in spirit."

I guess the reality of the situation is that sometimes we are jumping for joy and praising God, and sometimes we are down in the valley and can't find our way - but we're still supposed to be praising God. Verse 19 - "A righteous man may have many troubles, but the Lord delivers him from them all."

5 Years

2005-07-18T14:49:00.000-04:00

5 years. Working at Lighthouse is now officially the longest thing I've ever done. Longer than any school I've ever been to, longer than any job I've ever had. This is where I've spent the last 18.5% percent of my life. Go ahead and get out the calculator to figure out my age:)

So it might be a big deal for me, but there are far greater accomplishments. I mean really, Mike has been at this church for 8 years, and in ministry for more than 15. That seems like a far greater accomplishment then my little 5.

But I will say that it is nice to be appreciated, and it does feel good when somebody says nice job. Even though it is hard to accept a compliment. I just never know what to say, you know? "Thanks" sounds dumb. "Good, I'm glad you liked it" sounds arrogant. What are you supposed to say when somebody looks you in the eye and says, "I appreciate you?" For some reason, "Thanks, I appreciate that" just doesn't seem to sound right. I would rather say, "Thank you for noticing, thank you for appreciating, thank you for making a difference in my life by telling me that I made a difference in yours." But I don' t think that even cuts it.

But I digress.

Mike comes up on stage wearing a homemade headset microphone from a wire hanger and a dum-dum, wearing a T-shirt that looks suspiciously like one of my own, and carrying a guitar. I honestly didn't give a second thought to the guitar. I saw him coming down the hallway while playing the first song and thought, "OK, that's pretty funny. He's going to come up and do a little Jeff impersonation, that's a good one."

He comes up and says "I want to look like Jeff and play guitar like Jeff." I'm down on the floor enjoying him making a fool of himself:) But then he turns and asks me, "Hey, is this a nice guitar?"

I looked at the headstock and saw the name "Taylor." It wasn't until that moment that I realized that he was actually holding the very 714CE that I had been admiring at Guitar Center. Of course, I only played it and admired it as a very nice guitar, not something that I would EVER afford any time within the next 10 years.
Now it is sitting right here next to me, waiting for me to pick it up and play it. That's just crazy.

I mean seriously, at 5 years you are supposed to get a card and a gift certificate to Applebees. Maybe they send you away to a bed and breakfast for a night. But this? This is crazy. You don't just get your dream guitar as a surprise gift like that. That just doesn't happen.

This is actually quite humbling. To stand in front of the people and play the guitar that they put in my hands, well, that's really an honor. It's a responsibility too, to play it well and use it for the purpose it was given to me, to worship.

5 years ago I moved to Michigan, a 22 year old kid just out of college, with a guitar and nothing else. In the last 5 years he has given me a beautiful wife and a wonderful son, a mortgage and a couple of obnoxious dogs:)
And make that 2 guitars:)
If I may quote Chris Tomlin - how great is our God?!

The Wonderful World of Technology

2005-07-11T15:50:00.000-04:00

I admit it, I like tech stuff. I like gadgets and toys and things that are supposed to make our lives easier but actually end up taking more of our time as diversions.

My new toy is one such diversion, an Ipaq pocket PC.

I was given a PalmIII a few years ago and I used it faithfully as my primary database. In fact, some of the registries I still have were created in that original palm pilot. However, that palm met an untimely demise in a freak Chuck E Cheese incident. -note to self, remove palm pilot from pants pocket before entering the tunnels at Chuck E Cheese.

PalmIII #2 was purchased for roughly $20 on half.com. I already had the software and cradle, all I really needed was the hardware so I replaced it pretty cheaply. Life went on with my little buddy, and it was good. I think that one already had a few miles under its hood before I got it, because it just plain wore out. Soon enough, I had to reset it about 3 times a week, and many times it simply didn't turn on. I decided to do an autopsy. Inside I found an lcd screen, and a bunch of computer looking parts. Results - inconclusive.
It just so happens that I PalmIII screen is almost the exact same size as a wallet sized picture, so this one is now holding a picture of my son in my office.

PalmIII the third was a gift from the same person who gave me PalmIII the first. By now I had 3 cradles and 2 Palm keyboards, plus about 4 copies of the Palm software floating around.

Sadly, the connection wore out and it would no longer sync with my computer or connect to my keyboards. It was time to move on.

Rather than go back to half.com and spend another $20 on my existing system, I decided to take a small step forward.
Ok, maybe it is more like a giant leap forward.

Now I'm surfing the internet, reading email, managing spreadsheets and word documents, streaming video from my desktop to my handheld, and controlling every single piece of electronic equipment in my home - all with my handy little Ipaq with integrated Wi-fi and Bluetooth. Oh yeah, life is good:) You know it is a huge victory when you bring home the new (rather large) purchase, and your wife picks it up, discovers Tetris and says, "You should have bought one of these a long time ago." YES!!!

4th of July from my son's perspective

2005-07-05T09:44:00.000-04:00

My poor kid.

All we wanted to do was give him a good time, honestly. We didn't even care about the fireworks, we could have gone home and spent a quiet evening as a family, but we wanted Aiden to have fun and show him something new. So we loaded up into the minivan and hunted for a parking spot downtown.

At this point, it is already well past the child's bedtime, but rather than let him go to sleep, his awful parents make him get in the stroller in the rain and walk several blocks to the waterfront. We had heard that the fireworks were going to be at 9:45, so we got down there about 9:20 or so. Upon arriving, we see the sign that says Fireworks - 10:15.

Ok, so we've got a little time to kill. By 10:00, Aiden is cranky and tired and just plain done and wants to go home. He can't figure out why his parents won't let him go to sleep and instead made him come out here and stand in the rain in this huge crowd of people. He lets everyone around him know that he is tired and ready to go home by screaming his little head off. We buy him a glow stick to try to buy ourselves another 15 minutes of happiness until the fireworks begin.

At 10:15 the wretched fountain - excuse me, I mean the musical fountain - starts playing. You know, I think I'm going to call it the wretched fountain from now on. I really, really can't stand that thing. Instead of fireworks, we are now subjected to another half hour of a nonsensical and uninteresting fountain splashing around to a soundtrack that sounds like an Air Force choir or something. I mean seriously, when is the last time you were cruising around and thought, I really want to put the top down and crank up my patriotic choir CD? 25 minutes of the musical fountain is 24.5 minutes too many. I spent most of the time thinking about registering a domain name like thelamefountain.com and posting a message board for people to share what they really think of this silly thing, maybe even lobby for the city to include some music that is not old enough to be public domain:)

Aiden is tired and now incredibly bored and falling asleep, not to mention quite wet because his awful parents didn't bring a jacket with a hood for him to wear in the rain. I keep telling him, "I promise buddy, this is not what we brought you down here for. Something really cool will be coming after this fountain is done."

It is now almost 11:00, Aiden is way past tired, and the first of the fireworks goes off. The initial boom of the flare leaving the ground sends him almost jumping out of my arms. He watches the white light go up into the sky and then explode. He screams in absolute terror and grabs on to my neck and squeezes as hard as he can. With each boom in the sky he screams a little louder, he is completely panicked and beyond consoling. We try to cover his ears so the sound isn't so loud and he can at least watch the pretty colors in the sky.

Nope. Nothing doing. Every time he looks at one of the fireworks in the sky he shrieks and grabs on a little tighter. So, we try to make our way out of the crowd and give him a minute to calm down and get used to the idea of what is going on. That doesn't work either.

All he knows is that instead of being home, safe and warm and dry in his bed, his mean old mom and dad made him come out in the rain, watch this inane fountain bore a crowd to tears, stay up way past cranky, and now there were all these loud explosions in the sky. What a great idea this was.

We had good intentions, really. Fireworks are supposed to be fun, and if he could have gotten past the noise and the initial shock of it, he may have enjoyed it. As it was, we loaded him into his car seat and he very quickly drifted off to sleep. I only hope our little night of fun didn't scar him too badly:)

Camping with a Toddler

2005-06-26T16:36:00.000-04:00

Camping with a toddler is a lot like parenting in general. Mostly it is all about terror, panic, stress, and worry - punctuated by moments of wonder and beauty.
For terror, look no farther than the playground, and watch my 18 month old son, who incidentally does not grasp the whole concept of gravity yet, climb fearlessly to the top of the old metal playground slide and refuse your help in doing so.
For panic, try going to the beach and watching the child who does not know how to swim and thinks it funny when a wave crashes over his head run into the water and wade out until it is up to his shoulders. Granted - that's not quite 2 feet deep - but it is still deeper than he can manage to get back up if he falls.
Stress is found back at the campsite where the child who gets faster every single day decides to make a run for it in the woods. How many times do mom and dad have to run after him and bring him back before he figures out that he needs to stay close by? I don't know. We weren't there long enough to find out.
Worry takes new meaning when you become a parent. I always heard that, and I know that is it true. Worry is making sure that he stays away from the fire pit, away from the grill, that he doesn't get too much sun, that it is not too hot in the tent when he is sleeping, that he doesn't get bit by mosquitos, that he doesn't find poison ivy, that he doesn't play in anthills, that he doesn't get stung by anything...

and then there is the moment when the all three of us are sitting around the picnic table having breakfast together as a family. That moment alone was worth the price of admission. There is the picture of him sitting on the bench with his mother feeding each other hot dogs. How perfect is that? There is getting to stay together, all three of us, for an entire weekend and nobody having to go to work or shopping or anywhere the rest of us can not go.

and then of course, there is the storm.
There is the thunder that woke Aiden up, and him screaming in terror and clinging to us as the rain pounded the tent. Then there was the rain coming through to inside the tent. that was fun too.
fortunately for Aiden, there is very little that Elmo can not fix, so as we strapped him in to his carseat and turned on his video, he could laugh through the rest of the storm as he watched out the window as his crazy parents got drenched taking down the tent and packing everything away.

terror, panic, stress, worry, wonder, beauty, and a whole lot of rain.
I wouldn't trade a minute of it.

2005-06-23T08:48:00.000-04:00

My summer project. Man, is this a lot of work. I think there was a point about wednesday of the week I took off of "work" to work on my house when I thought, "OK, this is a REALLY big job - and there is no turning back now!"

a father's heart

2005-06-21T08:58:00.000-04:00

Reading in Luke this morning. I'm not sure why, some of my earliest memories in Bible study are of being bored to death by the book of Luke, and conspiring to get the sunday school teacher off track so we wouldn't have to read it. But hey, here i am reading it anyway.
1:17 talks about John the baptist coming as the new Elijah, and I have never seen these words before, "to turn the hearts of the fathers to their children."

What is that about? It's actually a quote from Malachi that says the exact same thing.
I know that being a parent is important, and it is right and just to be a father concerned about your children. But at the same time the world we live in doesn't make it easy to be a dad. At least, a good dad. How do I know if my heart is turned away from my family?

There is a tension between the "world outside" the home and the world inside. And which is right and proper? It's like any time I take to pursue career, I am robbing my household. But when I shift the pendulum the other way, I am a slacker. On the one hand I dishonor God by not turning enough toward my family, but on the other hand I dishonor God by not devoting enough attention to his church. And yet so far, it seems that he wants both from me. Who is equal to such a task?

I wonder what the state of the family was in Bible times that would prompt a prophet of God, God's mouthpiece to his generation, to comment on it. What were father's doing if their hearts were far from their children? Pursuing career? Outside interests? Hobbies?

John was the forerunner - the one who was to make "straight paths" for Christ. You would think that he was to heal people, preach repentance, all that stuff. That his job description includes repairing the family, most notably the father's attitude toward the family, well that just gives fatherhood a prominent place in the church, doesn't it?

There must be something to this whole GenX dads thing. I read an article about how GenX dads are cutting back at work, downsizing in order to be home more with their families. Sociologically compensating for their own absent fathers. I see it on TV and in some movies, that idea that growing up and being a parent is what we have to do is being accepted more and more. Dare I say it - being a good dad is almost fashionable:) Who'd have thunk it.

I got a "world's greatest Dad" t-shirt for father's day. I always thought guys who wore those things were dorks. Like, "come on buddy, you're family is obligated to get one of those things for you, it doesn't mean anything." You know, I didn't feel like a dork when I got it, I actually felt something a little different. I felt, well - pride. Now, who'd have thunk that!

Maybe God really is calling us to be the "world's greatest dads." Maybe that's been his plan from the beginning, we just got bored and started trying to find other things to occupy ourselves. Maybe part of turning our hearts to Christ involves turning them also back to our children.

The blog

2005-06-20T18:03:00.000-04:00

ok, so I gave in. I think I was waiting for the whole blogging thing to go away, like a fad that is so important for a little while, and then you're ashamed to admit that you once did it. Like writing a poem is junior high about a girl you just know you are meant to be with, then you have to look back and laugh.
So what do we do now? Bare our souls to the internet? Tell all our deepest, darkest secrets in the obscurity of my computer, in the privacy of the world wide web.
I'm not sure about all that.
But I guess there is not much more to do than to write. Sometimes serious, sometimes not. Sometimes happy endings, sometimes something else. Like life.
and who knows, maybe even jot down a jr. high poem or two:)