You don't walk away unchanged...

I felt like Job.  If I’m honest, I fully expected the outcome to be no different.  I didn’t trust that God would come through.  I didn’t trust Him that things would really be okay.  I trusted His will would be done, but I didn’t believe His will was “good”.  You see, when my dad died I had prayed like crazy.  Everyone I knew was praying to whatever god, higher power, source of anything good they believed in. Yet there we were, 72 hours of complete utter chaos, last minute passports, 3am flights, and thousands of protesters in yellow shirts.  The second worst week of my life.  Why would this time be any different?  Why would God answer these prayers and not the others?  I’m not sure I want to know to the answer to why things turned out differently.  All I know is they did.  My best friend.  THE love of my life.  Mother to my children, partner in this crazy things called life.  My staunchest supporter, my most reliable critic.  She’s alive and well.  She can breathe, and run, and hold our children and me when we need it.  For these things and more I am thankful.  Yet, for one week, the worst week of my life, I fully expected to lose all that.  For one week I was scared, angry, confused and exhausted, all at the same time.  Trying to be strong for the ones you love is not an easy task.  Trying to be strong when your mind is consumed with what life would be like if/when the worst happened, is impossible.  I lost it more than once.  I drove home with tears pouring from eyes.  I needed to “get it all out” so I could put on a brave face for my kids when I got home.  Telling them, “Mommy is going to be okay” and feeling like I was half lying.  What would I tell them if the worst did come to pass? How could I look them in eyes and say “Mommy is never coming home?”

Again, thank God I didn’t have to have that conversation, but it’s a feeling that I can’t shake.  I felt emotions I hope to never feel again.  You don’t forget that, but what do you do with it?  What do you do with the knowledge gained from an experience like this?  We watched Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D last night.  Whatever your feelings on that show are you are of course entitled to them.  However, if you don’t like the show, you’re wrong.  Just saying.  Anyway, the main character had an apparent “near death experience” in the Avengers movie (spoiler alert), should that have come before I typed the last sentence? Whatever. At the end of episode he was reflecting back on that time he was stabbed with an alien spear while onboard the S.H.I.E.L.D. helicarrier and died… he said he didn’t feel okay, he felt “different”.  One of this team members responded by telling him of course he was different.  He died.  You don’t come back from something like that unchanged, you can’t.  So, I asked myself, how did I come back from the hospital with Jasmine? How are things different?  Are they really?  I’m not sure yet.  I’m still figuring this out.  What I do know… my best friend is home.  She’s going to be fine.  We’ve been through hell and back, twice.  And we’re doing just fine.  More than okay.  Yeah, we have a bankruptcy attorney now and will finish fileing early next year, but you know what… F--K IT!  It’s only money.  I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, I’d rather be bankrupt with Jasmine by my side than a single dad any day.

My son the dog...

I’ve decided my son is like a dog.  I know that sounds a bit strange to say, but let me share how I arrived at this conclusion.  It started a few weeks ago.  The idea slowly infiltrated my brain as I was over hearing a conversation about pets.  A “dog person” and “cat person” were talking about the pros and cons of each respective species.  Not an abnormal conversation by any means.  How often have each of us engaged in a similar discourse?  This time, however, was different.  This time I was struck by the characteristics that each owner ascribed to their pets. 

“My cat is very independent and resourceful.  That’s what great about cats, they aren’t needy like a lot of dogs.  (S)he pretty much takes care of him/herself and only comes up to me when they need something.  (S)he really doesn’t care for strangers either.”

“Well my dog is really smart too, but (s)he also loves people.  (S)he will run up to anyone and great them, just begging to be petted.  (S)he will sit and shake hands, and fetch until you tell him/her to stop.  You can tell (s)he loves doing tricks because (s)he knows it makes people happy.”

What stuck with me was the formulation that cats = independent, stubborn, indifferent = good; and dogs = loyal to a fault, overly friendly, people pleasers = bad.  Big, dumb drooling fur balls that will fetch until they fall over if only because it makes the owner happy are to be laughed at; while sleek, cunning and manipulative felines should be praised for their disregard of others and attention to their own needs.  I thought to myself, “If the chief enjoyment you derive from owning a cat is that they don’t actually need you, why have a cat at all?”  Of course as I thought about the owner making these statements I began to see the appeal of owning cat.  They weren’t exactly a “people person” either.  Traits that are largely negative when applied to humans were being spun into positives when applied to a cat.  Perhaps it was because there were no false pretenses when it came to the cat.  You knew from the beginning that this pet was only using you for food and shelter.  It wasn’t pretending to like you or even enjoy your company only in the hopes of getting something in return.  “If I want you to scratch me I’ll let you know, otherwise you stay on your end of the couch.”  Granted not all cats are like this, and some dogs wouldn’t realize you weren’t there until they got hungry, but the “positives” of cat ownership struck me as odd.

This brings me back to my son.  My son loves competition.  He will race you to the front door of the house, from the car to church, across the playground, even from the kitchen to his room.  He loves playing video games and “keeping score”.  If he can turn it into a game and somehow keep track of who is winning, he’ll do it.  I know this sounds like a bad thing, especially in the context of this blog, but bear with me.  The reason he loves competition… he likes to see other people win.  He hates losing himself, so he doesn’t want other people to feel like a loser.  He cheers when I beat him.  He loves it when his sister makes it to the door first.  He cares so much about how other people feel that he doesn’t mind suffering defeat if it means they are happy about winning.  He is always asking me “Dad, are you happy?” If I say no, he asks what he can do to make me laugh.  Last night he told the same knock-knock joke about 20 times because it was making me laugh.  Not so much the joke itself, of which the punch line consisted mostly of the word “poop” in various word combinations, but the fact that he was trying so hard to make me laugh.  Everyone should be happy, everyone should be having fun.  I told him yesterday that if the world had more people like him, it would be a better place.  If more people were like dogs… big, drooly and dumb… but so full of love they would fetch til they dropped, the world would be a wonderful place.

I hate this Fall...

Autumn is an odd time of year.  In a way I kind of feel sorry for Fall.  It’s like Summer’s younger sibling, the screw up who can’t manage to get anything right.  “Your brother was always so warm and sunny.  We had longer days and warm nights to do whatever we pleased.  Our gardens bloomed and grew, we reaped the harvest all season long… and then you showed up.  You came with clouds, and rain.  You brought shorter days, colder nights.  Our gardens are dying, the leaves are falling off the trees, and then there’s the whole clock changing thing...”  Poor Fall.  Sure, there are some people who like the changing leaves, and the cooler weather.  There are even people who like the rain.  But for many, the change in season marks an anti-climactic end to Summer.  Perhaps there is one last trip Labor Day weekend, but that only serves as a reminder that you don’t get any more holidays until Thanksgiving.  For school aged children the freedom of Summer is replaced with the daily rigors of school work and set schedules.  Harvest celebrations let us appreciate the abundance that a warm growing season offers, but after the crops are cut down, and brought in we’re left with a mess to clean up and a barren patch of earth that will grow little more than weeds for the next several months.  It’s a season of change, but perhaps change that isn’t viewed in a positive light.  Autumn is when the world “dies” and sinks into its winter slumber.  Yet, without Fall, there can be no Spring.  Without the cold and dark, we cannot appreciate the warmth and light that follows.  You will never know how high you’ve climbed unless you know where the bottom is. 

Once on month on Communion Sunday we recite the Apostles’ Creed.  In it we are reminded that Jesus

Suffered under Pontius Pilate; was crucified, dead and buried:

He descended into hell:

The third day he rose again from the dead 

Three days of darkness.  Three days marked by death.  Three days leading to new life, redemption and reconciliation.  Three days to help us see a new day dawning and appreciate the warmth of God’s love. 

I’m not going to sugar coat it: this Fall is a rough time for us.  It marks 5 years since we lost my dad.  It sees our pending bankruptcy because of Jasmine’s medical expenses.  It’s a Fall that I thought would be my first semester back in seminary for another Master’s, but instead it’s another Fall with dreams on hold.  This Fall I’m really looking forward to the Spring.

What now...

I don’t complain much.  I don’t really see the point.  There are things in life that you can do something about, and things that you can’t.  Complaining just wastes energy that could be spent towards fixing the fixable or exhausted by griping about things that cannot be changed.  I’m also pretty reserved and private.  I don’t share a lot of what’s going on in my private life, mostly because I still believe that there is something called a “private life”.  That being said, this is a rare moment for me.  Public complaining.  You see, I try to do the right thing in nearly all situations. I believe in God and also believe that Jesus is my personal Lord and Savior. The one thing I always try to do (I almost never speak in absolutes, so this too is a big statement) is honor God and build His Kingdom.  That’s why – after 6 years as a biology major, thinking I was going to go to medical school – I went to a small Christian college and doubled majored in Pastoral Ministry and Theology.  After that I went straight to seminary and in four years received my Master’s of Arts in Theology with an emphasis in Biblical Studies and Theology.  I was preparing to do God’s work.  Still am.  Yet, here I am, two years after grad school, working an okay job (for a great boss) waiting for what’s next.  I thought going back to seminary and getting my Master’s of Divinity to prepare for ordination was the “next thing”, but we find ourselves stuck at a stand still.  You see, after switching to William Jessup University and pursuing the ministry as a vocation, things more or less went smoothly.  However, seminary was another story. In the four years I spent at Fuller Seminary I had two kids, two knees surgeries, lost my dad in a freak accident when he fell through a roof, and moved to Seattle.  When I applied to go back to school Jasmine ended up in the hospital with a collapsed lung and we got stuck with thousands of dollars in medical bills and possible bankruptcy.  Leaving me to wonder, what’s the deal?  Either this is the greatest trial ever and the payoff for perseverance will be beyond anything we can imagine, or I’m stubbornly kicking against the goads and failing to see the light.  As we struggle week to week to pay our bills and put food on the table I can’t help but wonder where God is in all this.  I’ve spent the last 10 years trying to do what’s right and the reward is overdraft fees, an empty fridge and delinquency notices from our student loan lenders.  I’m starting to wonder if there really will a payoff in sticking with “the plan” or if it’s time to think about something else. 

Okay... what now?

Num 13:31-33 But the men who had gone up with him responded, “We can’t go up against the people because they are stronger than we are!” So they gave a negative report to the Israelites about the land they had scouted: “The land we passed through to explore is one that devours its inhabitants, and all the people we saw in it are men of great size. We even saw the Nephilim there—the descendants of Anak come from the Nephilim! To ourselves we seemed like grasshoppers, and we must have seemed the same to them.”

                I’m staring at giants, and I’m not so sure this is the way to go.  When the scouts returned to camp they reported that the land was good, but it was inhabited by giants.  The cities were fortified and there was no way they could prevail.  God had obviously led them to the land of Canaan to be slaughtered by its inhabitants.  I’m feeling a bit like a grasshopper myself.

                Have you ever been faced with a problem that seemed insurmountable?  If you’ve ever tried to do anything difficult then your answer would most certainly be “yes”.  Perhaps it was a math test, or trying out for a sports team, maybe even finding the courage to ask out that certain someone.  When faced with the impossible (maybe improbable is a better word) we convince ourselves that it is just that, impossible, and we need not attempt it in the first place.  In some cases we find the courage, or abandon enough sense, to try and hit a wall a few steps in.  We bounce back, stunned and staggering, arms flailing blindly to grasp something solid, something familiar, stable.  Some of us charge on ahead, climbing the wall.  Others scout it out, take inventory, access their options, and still others try to find a way around it, no matter how far out of the way it takes them.  Then there are those who simply sit there waiting for the wall to move, be moved, or crumble.  Some pound their head against the wall trying to knock it down.  And still others give up and try to find a new destination.  Then or course there is me.  I usually do all of the above and more often than I would like to admit I end up ultimately walking away and trying something else.  The question is always how long do I wait until I give up?  How long will I pound my head against the wall?  Will I really exhaust all options, knock on every door?  How far am I willing to go out of the way before I realize there isn’t another way?  When will I have to accept that the wall is there for my own good?

                To be honest, I’ve been knocked down a few too many times lately that I don’t have the energy to climb, go around, or even bang my head.  I feel like just staying down.  I don’t want to look for another direction.  I’m done knocking on doors.  This time I’m surrounded by giants and the cities are too well defended.  I think I’ll just sit here and wait for a miracle.

What is up with the Law?

   A few weeks after I started my job my boss came up to me and thanked me for being so efficient. She appreciated my organizational skills (No, seriously!  You guys that know me are probably ROTFL, but at work I'm actually organized.) taking initiative, but most of all seeing what needed to be done and just doing it.  Of course, I took it all with a grain of salt.  She had been running the clinic all by her self with a little help from different family members.  I was the first real full time employee she hired, so having someone else to do the daily office tasks was a huge weight off her shoulders.  I figured she would say that about anyone at that point.  Only later did I look back on past jobs and past experiences and see that, well, maybe I was doing a good job. 

   We've all been there... that co-worker who never seems to do anything unless they are told.  The guy that doesn't recognize the obvious until you point it out. 

"Those cups over there are dirty, maybe you could put them in the sink?"

"Oh. right.  Sorry man."

Part of being a good employee is seeing what's wrong or out of place and fixing it.  It's knowing what needs to be done and not having to be told.  We see the problem, we seek a solution.  It's part of being a good person.  It's seeing the elderly woman staring at her flat tire and stopping to put the spare on for her.  It's helping push that stalled car off the road and out of harms way.  It's giving your time and resources to help those in need.  For some of us it comes naturally, and to others it takes a lot of effort.  Maybe that's why God took the time to spell it out for the people of Israel.

   We just finished Leviticus in our Bible in a Year plan.  Anyone who has read that book knows it is filled with all kinds of weird laws that make no sense.  Boiling goats, mixing fibers in a garment, stoning your children... Things that honestly do not make sense in our day and age.  While they were applicable to the Israelites in that time, they don't apply to us, right?  Jesus came to do away with the Law, so it doesn't matter, we can just ignore those parts of the Bible because they are outdated... wellllll, not so fast.  A lot of the Laws found in the Hebrew bible are there to govern the interactions of not only the people with God, but the people with each other.  Jesus even tells us that the heart of the Law is love.  Love for God, and love for our fellow man.  We are free from the burden of having to fulfill the law in order to find salvation, but we are not free from our obligations to love God and others.  When we look at the Law we find laws about how owners are to treat slaves.  Laws about righting wrongs between neighbors.  There are even laws about taking care of the less fortunate.  For me, the question isn't why should we pay attention to these old statutes, but why aren't we?  Another question is, why do we even need laws about how to treat others?  The answer is quite honestly uncomfortable.  We are inherently selfish.  We want to keep what's ours.  And why not?  We earned it, we worked hard for it.  Why should I care about the poor and homeless?  If I started giving stuff away I might end up like them.  The government is trying to take my money away so that they can fund some program I never agreed to that pays these people to be lazy!  Not me, no thank you.  If we believe that Scripture is truly alive, the very Word of God for His people, then we have to accept that what we have isn't ours.  We only have what we have because of God's blessings, so that we might be a blessing to others. 

   Some of us, I mean us because I count myself among those I'm talking to, give to charities or to our churches and think that is enough.  I did until just recently.  I figured if I give money so that these organizations can help others I'm doing my part.  Then I realized, what I'm really doing is paying someone else to do the work for me.  To show love on my behalf.  I taking the easy way out of loving my neighbor.  I'm buying peace of mind that allows me to say I did what Jesus asked me to.  I see the need, I recognize the problem, then outsource the solution.  James tells us that true religion is taking care of the poor, widows, orphans.  I'm pretty sure he didn't mean paying others to do it for us.  Don't get me wrong, I don't have a problem with giving to charitable organizations.  I certainly don't have a problem with giving to religious institutions either.  Many of these groups do great work and help a lot of people, but if the depth of your compassion for your fellow man stops at dropping a few extra bucks in a plate, or putting a check in the mail a couple of times a year... I think you need to re-evaluate some things.  Yes, it is easier to just let someone else do it for us, but following Jesus is not meant to be easy.  We are called to be the workers in the Kingdom.  I hope that someday our Boss will tell us we did a great job.

"I hate customers more than anything..."

Realtionships… half of you just cringed after reading the word.  Memories, images of past relationships flashed before your eyes and you can’t believe you ever knew that person.  For the other half that same word does not bring to mind past failures but present triumphs.  The word relationship fills you with warmth that suddenly overflows bursting forth in a huge smile.  If you are reading this around other people they may ask you why you are grinning like an idiot.  Our view of relationships is shaped by the ones we have and the ones we have lost.  Some people leave our lives new and improved, better for having known them.  Others leave us battered and torn; a wake of destruction marking where they have been.  Scarred, we run from the next relationship that comes our way, only to be ensnared by the promise of something new, something better than the last time.  Try as we might, relationships are unavoidable.  You see, we are wired for them.  We are made that way.  We seek relationships because we don’t feel “right” without them.
 
Most of us have heard this before.  We are created for relationships because we were created by a God who Himself craves relationship; the same God who is inherently relational in His very essence.  The mystery of the Trinity is far too complex to even scratch the surface of in this blog, so let us just accept that God exists in eternal relationship with Himself.  Having accepted that (you accepted that right? Good, keep reading) we might ask, what does this mean for us?  Having been created in His image, we bear many of the traits that we have come to associate with God.  Many of us naturally have a sense of fairness, or justice.  We recognize right or wrong and even feel a sense of responsibility to protect the rights of others.  We are capable of incredible acts of selflessness and love.  Some (more than others) have an artistic side, a creative side that seeks to make the world we live in a more beautiful place.  All of us long to be connected to others.  For many of us that longing manifests itself in healthy ways.  We play organized sports, join various interest groups, churches, mosques, synagogues, temples, the gym.  All so that we can see and interact with other people.  As you read this you have already engaged in one of the many ways we seek to connect with others, social media.  I posted a link on Facebook, you clicked the link and here we are, in relationship.  All of these forms of relating have various levels of intimacy attached to them.  Eating in public, working out at gym, going to the mall; all of these are at best surface level relationships or interactions.  Playing a team sport, joining a social club, “friending” someone on Facebook, these have the potential to go beyond the surface.  The people we work, have a class, or go to church with tend to share a deeper level of connection with us, but often times we are guarded with even these relationships.  Ideally it is our families and loved ones that we have formed the most secure, intimate bonds with, but sadly that isn’t always true either.  But, why?  Why do some of us seek destructive relationships?

In my very first Systematic Theology class we read "Created for Community" by Stanley Grenz.  The book can be pretty much summed in in one word, "community".  Everything relates to community.  It became a running joke during the course of the semester.  If you didn't know the answer just write "community".  It wasn't until grad school that I began to realize that Grenz really wasn't that far off in his book.  The Christian faith, living a Godly life, all comes down to community and relationships.  The Bible is the story of how God relates to humanity.  Theology basically boils down to how we interpret our relationship with God and vice versa.  It's our way of trying to figure out what we are meant to do in life, what we are meant for, purposed, destined.  Theology defines us and dictates how we respond to certain situations in life.  The Bible is our source for the Theology we develop amd the worldview that stems from our Theology.  Our Bible in a Year plan has us smack dab in the middle of Leviticus... yaaaayyyy... Leviticus.  On the surface Leviticus appears to be nothing more than a lot, A LOT, of boring rules and regulations meant to limit the people of God.  However, if we change our perspective we can begin to see them as laws of love.  Laws designed to protect the Israelites from themselves and preserve their standing, their relationship, with God.  God wants to remain in relationship with His people, with us.  Sin separates us from Him and in the case of Israel sin meant death.  God wasn't trying to "spoil the party", God was trying to save His people from doing what He already knew they would do.  These same laws also apply to our relationships with other human beings.  Just as with God, we can choose to do the right thing in our daily interactions with others, or we can choose to be the lesser version of ourselves.  The barista having a tough day... do we get snarky and pull an attitude? or do we try to see things from their point of view?  The postal worker who has had rude customer after rude customer (hey it's Christmas...) can we turn their day around with a smile and a kind word? or remind them how terrible the service is and that we had to wait 30 minutes in line?  Our actions can build healthy relationships or tear them down.  

Which will you choose today?  Will you choose to dwell on past failures or negative interactions, or will you rise above them and be a light to others?  Have feelings of guilt convinced you that you aren't worthy of positive relationships?  Maybe, just maybe, today you will remember that the God of the universe loves you.  Became just like you to show you how to live, how to have relationships and exist in community with others.  The God who died to take away the sin that seperates us from Him and give us an opportunity to have the most amazing relationship we could even imagine. Hopefully, you will choose to show love to the angry driver behind you, the rude server at lunch, the stubborn co-worker, your friends and your family no matter how frustrated they make you.

My tummy hurts...

My wife and I have a pretty sweet set-up… We work in the same office, it’s only 1.5 BLOCKS away from our house, and our boss is the pretty much the best boss either of us have ever had.  I work the early shift, walk home, “tag up” with Jasmine and she works until the office closes.  That leaves me to get the kids fed, bathed, and off to bed most nights solo.  Not a big deal.  Sure I’m tired, would rather lounge on the couch and watch re-runs of Shark Week, but honestly some of the greatest joys come during those “daddy times”.  Last night, wasn’t one of them. 

Most parents familiar with this particular parenting situation know the importance of keeping the kids occupied while preparing dinner.  My approach last night was the use of the Play-Doh Fun Factory.  I thought I had successfully left my children unattended with a seemingly innocuous pastime, only to return to screaming, fighting and the biggest mess I think they have made to date.  Not what I wanted to deal with at 6:30 with a kitchen full of smoke, and a chicken that still wasn’t cooked through after 1.5 hours in an oven that was set way too high (thanks random internet recipe).  I kind of lost it for a second and sent both of the kids running to their room for a long time out while I picked up the millions of microscopic grains of Play-Doh scattered about the table and living room floor.  Again, not one of my finer moments.  After an apology on my part and a few hugs I plated their dinner and they sat down to eat, victory? Oh, no.  My son informs me, after eating for only two minutes, that he has a tummy ache from the “broc-a-di” (broccoli).  I asked if he felt sick and he of course answered "yes" (the surest way to get what he wanted, not eat more broccoli).  I then asked if he wanted to lie down and rest and he said, “No, I want to play with the Play-Doh again”.  

“If your tummy hurts you should rest.”

“It’s okay now.”

“Good, you can eat more dinner then.”

“Um… Play-Doh?”

"No!"

I was then called a “mean bully” because I didn’t let him do what he wanted to do.  Told I was not his friend because I won’t play with him and treated to a chorus of screaming and rhythmic stomping down the hallway.  Apparently the logic that I am “daddy” and know what’s best for him doesn’t register yet, and won’t until he’s 25. Sound familiar to anyone?  

Our "Bible in a year" plan has us 3/4 the way through Exodus now and at the oh so thrilling specifications for the Tabernacle part.  Just before we get to cubits of curtains, and red, and blue fine twined linens, we read about the sealing of the covenant.  God informs His people of the requirements He has for them.  Rules for eating, living, social justice, legal matters.  God knows whats best for the people of Israel.  After all that God has done for them them, the people agree, and pledge to follow God's rules.  End of story...  No, only the second book of a much longer story.  The story of a people who think they know what's best and try just about anything to have it their way.  The story of failure, regret, loss and misery.  Also, thankfully, the story of a God whose patience is never exhausted.  A God whose grace and love have overcome everything, even our own stubbornness.  

Can I even hope to be like God to my kids?  No.  Can I pray that He gives me supernatural patience and love for these two crazy kids that I cherish more than anything? I do. Everyday.  But I also realize that I am that little kid who doesn't want to eat his broc-a-di.  Who thinks he knows what's best for himself.  I would rather play with my Play-Doh than do what I supposed to do, what I'm meant to do.  That being said, Jasmine and I are exploring the possibility of going back into ministry.  Doing the thing that we both felt so strongly about years ago.  I'm not sure what happened, maybe lie got in the way, or Moses was gone on the mountain too long, but somewhere along the line we lost sight of what once was so clear.  I invite you to pray with us as we being down that road again.  Let us know how we can pray for you.