In case you care...
Favorite albums of the moment:
"Eyes Open" Snow Patrol -- simply excellent. Not a bad song on the whole thing.
"Dusk and Summer" Dashboard Confessional -- heard one song off it so I got it from the library. Very good. I'm new to this group so I can't compare this offering to their earlier work, which I understand is much mellower.
Favorite songs:
"Make This Go On Forever" Snow Patrol
"Window in the Sky" U2 (great video too)
"Stolen" and "Reason to Believe" Dashboard Confessional
Most overplayed song:
"Sweet Escape" Gwen Stefani. I wish this song would make a sweet escape to the dustbin for at least three months.
Anything on Z 88.5. Tuned in for a few minutes this weekend -- all the same stuff still playing from my last try about six months ago.
Favorite movie:
"Amazing Grace". Please go see it! We need to support good stuff like this so more of it'll be made.
And, just for the fun, my picks for the 07 MLB season, which starts in earnest today:
AL East: Yankees (because they always do)
AL Central: Tigers (great combination of offense and pitching, even without Kenny Rogers)
AL West: Rangers (Angels are the popular pick, but I think they'll get hurt too much, so I'm picking the Rangers to finally get their pitching together enough to pull it out).
AL Wild Card: Red Sox (they won't fold like last year, but they won't have enough offense to keep pace with the Yanks)
NL East: Mets (ridiculous offense makes up for lackluster starting pitching)
NL Central: Cardinals (tempting to take the Brewers, but I'm going safe here)
NL West: Diamondbacks (the Dodgers are the sexy pick, but if they do it it'll be like 1988 when they had no offensive star; I don't think it'll happen so I'm going with the young D-backs).
NL Wild Card: Phillies (they'll finally put it together this year)
ALCS: Red Sox over Yankees
NLCS: Mets over Cardinals
World Series: Red Sox over Mets (revenge for 86!)
From my fingers to God's ears...
Monday, April 02, 2007
Saturday, March 24, 2007
The Parades
Last week I was at Biola University for their annual missions conference. During the first main session, before the speaker came to the pulpit, they had students come to the front of the assembly area carrying the national flag of the country they are from (though in some cases I'm not sure the flag-bearers were actually from the country in question).
This isn't all that unusual (Moody does it, as do several other universities), but for some reason it affected me more this time. As I watched them each walk by I thought that it would be like that one day in heaven. Except that, instead of countries being represented, it would be people groups. And the procession would not end so quickly. The parade of flags at Biola ended after about 30 students had come forward. There are over 200 countries in the world, and thousands of people groups. All will be represented in heaven, according to Revelation 5:9 and 7:9.
But that day still seems to be far off. Right now there is no one to carry the flag of many of these people groups. And for some reason the truth of that sank in that day more than it ever had before, and my heart wept. I hope I can some day come back to Biola, to the parade of flags, and see the Iraqi flag and the Saudi Arabian flag alongside the flags of Myanmar, Chad, Sudan and dozens more. I hope some day there will be scores of Christians in each of those countries, dozens who can enjoy a solid Biblical education at a school like Biola, and many who will take the Gospel to neighbors in people groups that are yet unreached.
The next day the leaders of the missions conference did something I'd never seen before: a parade of majors. They had student carry signs announcing their major and props that were associated with that skill or practice. Members of the student body cheered loudly when their major came down the aisle (I think the nurses were loudest). I was pleasantly surprised to see this, and it felt so right and good to me. I think it's great to honor the academic achievements the students are making, and to celebrate their entry into these disciplines as committed Christians. I think the development of Christian nurses is awesome, as is the training of Christian audio/visual professionals, Christian historians, Christian writers, Christian sociologists and Christian musicians. I think we ought to encourage and celebrate those who will be excellent in those fields and be a light to those they labor alongside. I also hope to see many of them use those skills as platforms on the mission field for entering into closed countries, serving the physical, spiritual and emotional needs of the saved and unsaved alike as a testimony to His unwavering love for them.
So it was a moving week. Sometimes it's easy for missions to become blase for me -- like I've seen and heard it all a thousand times. It was good for me last week then to be stirred again and remember what I'm working toward, and to have an emotional response to it all. I feel refueled and reinvigorated, redetermined in the ultimate aim of all that I labor for.
This isn't all that unusual (Moody does it, as do several other universities), but for some reason it affected me more this time. As I watched them each walk by I thought that it would be like that one day in heaven. Except that, instead of countries being represented, it would be people groups. And the procession would not end so quickly. The parade of flags at Biola ended after about 30 students had come forward. There are over 200 countries in the world, and thousands of people groups. All will be represented in heaven, according to Revelation 5:9 and 7:9.
But that day still seems to be far off. Right now there is no one to carry the flag of many of these people groups. And for some reason the truth of that sank in that day more than it ever had before, and my heart wept. I hope I can some day come back to Biola, to the parade of flags, and see the Iraqi flag and the Saudi Arabian flag alongside the flags of Myanmar, Chad, Sudan and dozens more. I hope some day there will be scores of Christians in each of those countries, dozens who can enjoy a solid Biblical education at a school like Biola, and many who will take the Gospel to neighbors in people groups that are yet unreached.
The next day the leaders of the missions conference did something I'd never seen before: a parade of majors. They had student carry signs announcing their major and props that were associated with that skill or practice. Members of the student body cheered loudly when their major came down the aisle (I think the nurses were loudest). I was pleasantly surprised to see this, and it felt so right and good to me. I think it's great to honor the academic achievements the students are making, and to celebrate their entry into these disciplines as committed Christians. I think the development of Christian nurses is awesome, as is the training of Christian audio/visual professionals, Christian historians, Christian writers, Christian sociologists and Christian musicians. I think we ought to encourage and celebrate those who will be excellent in those fields and be a light to those they labor alongside. I also hope to see many of them use those skills as platforms on the mission field for entering into closed countries, serving the physical, spiritual and emotional needs of the saved and unsaved alike as a testimony to His unwavering love for them.
So it was a moving week. Sometimes it's easy for missions to become blase for me -- like I've seen and heard it all a thousand times. It was good for me last week then to be stirred again and remember what I'm working toward, and to have an emotional response to it all. I feel refueled and reinvigorated, redetermined in the ultimate aim of all that I labor for.
Monday, March 19, 2007
The wisdom of Dan
A few gems from my former roommate Dan, who is not normally known for being especially quotable:
Dan on sin: "Temptation isn't tempting until it's temptation."
Dan on famous skier Marc Girardelli: "The thing he was good at was that he was good at everything."
Dan, to me and Naomi: "What exactly what went wrong at your wedding?"
Dan, showing up our other former roommate Kevin: "Worters."
Dan on sin: "Temptation isn't tempting until it's temptation."
Dan on famous skier Marc Girardelli: "The thing he was good at was that he was good at everything."
Dan, to me and Naomi: "What exactly what went wrong at your wedding?"
Dan, showing up our other former roommate Kevin: "Worters."
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Awkwardness
You know you have reached a certain level of trust in your marriage when your wife tells you that she found a woman's undergarment in the house that doesn't belong to her and she's not the least bit upset.
So, yes, the other day Naomi is cleaning the guest bedroom in anticipation of our next visitor and discovers a woman's undergarment under the bed. It dawned on me immediately how uncomfortable this discovery could be if indeed I had anything to hide, which made me feel very happy that I don't (I am neither a cheater nor a cross-dresser).
The next thought was, "whose is it?" We mentally went down the list of recent guests and concluded without too much trouble that it must belong to the last visitors we had a few weeks back. This led to a second awkward moment as these last visitors (a couple) are people we had not met prior to their showing up on our doorstep. Not only that, but we didn't even have contact information for them. The woman whose personal item is in question here is the sister of a friend and former co-worker. We did manage to get her email address from our friend, but a week later we still haven't emailed her.
Why? Well how exactly do you write that email? Neither of us knows her really, but Naomi doesn't really even know her brother that well. I know him well, but I'm not sure I'm the one to be emailing her about this. It's tempting to create a new email account (discreet@hotmail.com or unmentionables@yahoo.com perhaps) just to give her the news anonymously, but that wouldn't really work either since it's our stinkin' house that is the scene of the crime.
I think, in the end, we're just going to have to tag-team it: I write the email using all the diplomacy and formal language I can muster and send it to Naomi to send from her email account.
This is what marriage is all about. No, not discovering undergarments from strange women in one's house, but sharing the burden of the unpleasant necessities of life. And all the better when you can do so with a good attitude and a chuckle or two.
So, yes, the other day Naomi is cleaning the guest bedroom in anticipation of our next visitor and discovers a woman's undergarment under the bed. It dawned on me immediately how uncomfortable this discovery could be if indeed I had anything to hide, which made me feel very happy that I don't (I am neither a cheater nor a cross-dresser).
The next thought was, "whose is it?" We mentally went down the list of recent guests and concluded without too much trouble that it must belong to the last visitors we had a few weeks back. This led to a second awkward moment as these last visitors (a couple) are people we had not met prior to their showing up on our doorstep. Not only that, but we didn't even have contact information for them. The woman whose personal item is in question here is the sister of a friend and former co-worker. We did manage to get her email address from our friend, but a week later we still haven't emailed her.
Why? Well how exactly do you write that email? Neither of us knows her really, but Naomi doesn't really even know her brother that well. I know him well, but I'm not sure I'm the one to be emailing her about this. It's tempting to create a new email account (discreet@hotmail.com or unmentionables@yahoo.com perhaps) just to give her the news anonymously, but that wouldn't really work either since it's our stinkin' house that is the scene of the crime.
I think, in the end, we're just going to have to tag-team it: I write the email using all the diplomacy and formal language I can muster and send it to Naomi to send from her email account.
This is what marriage is all about. No, not discovering undergarments from strange women in one's house, but sharing the burden of the unpleasant necessities of life. And all the better when you can do so with a good attitude and a chuckle or two.
Sunday, March 04, 2007
Things I discovered on my trip to Virginia
1. Poker is fun when you're winning. Last Saturday my friend Ruben, who plays frequently and wins often, had me over to his place in Richmond and we got to playing Texas Hold 'Em. We split up the chips evenly and I took all his money three straight times before we ran out of time with me comfortably ahead on the fourth time we had started over with even stacks. I would love to say I am secretly an amazing poker player, but the truth is that the only thing sicker than I was (and still am) were the cards I was getting. I beat Ruben on my kicker at least twice -- we both paired up sixes once and queens once (I think) and each time I had a stronger kicker. If he paired up eights, I had nines, and so on and so forth. I have to give Rubes credit though -- he took it well. Just wasn't his day. I think I rather like just playing head to head -- less to think about with other players. I still focus too much on my own hand and not enough on what the other players might be doing.
2. Coffee can be good. I needed some help waking up upon arriving in Virginia two weeks ago. I'd gotten to bed at about 2:30am and was up again at 6:45. My friend Dan put on a pot of java and poured me some in a travel mug for the road. I took one sip and ... holy beans! It was actually good! I tend to drink coffee only for it's medicinal purposes, and as I drink it so seldom, the caffeine tends to have a dramatic impact on me. Well this was more than just a drug ... it was pleasing to the palate too. So I asked Dan where I could pick up some of this fine brew. His answer: Costa Rica. Seems he was there not too long ago and brought some back. Bummer.
3. Cheap Target sunglasses can survive in a dryer set at 125 degrees Fahrenheit for 45 minutes and be none the worse for wear (just a little hot). This was a pleasant surprise.
4. End of the Spear is a good movie, but Amazing Grace (cheating slightly -- actually saw it in Orlando yesterday) is better. The latter movie is instantly on my top 10 list. But more about that later...
2. Coffee can be good. I needed some help waking up upon arriving in Virginia two weeks ago. I'd gotten to bed at about 2:30am and was up again at 6:45. My friend Dan put on a pot of java and poured me some in a travel mug for the road. I took one sip and ... holy beans! It was actually good! I tend to drink coffee only for it's medicinal purposes, and as I drink it so seldom, the caffeine tends to have a dramatic impact on me. Well this was more than just a drug ... it was pleasing to the palate too. So I asked Dan where I could pick up some of this fine brew. His answer: Costa Rica. Seems he was there not too long ago and brought some back. Bummer.
3. Cheap Target sunglasses can survive in a dryer set at 125 degrees Fahrenheit for 45 minutes and be none the worse for wear (just a little hot). This was a pleasant surprise.
4. End of the Spear is a good movie, but Amazing Grace (cheating slightly -- actually saw it in Orlando yesterday) is better. The latter movie is instantly on my top 10 list. But more about that later...
Friday, February 23, 2007
Jerry Falwell
So I've been in Lynchburg, VA at Liberty University this week and yesterday got to meet Jerry Falwell. I wasn't sure what to think about this occasion since I have mixed feelings about him. He's one of many high-profile Christians who seems to have a propensity for sticking his foot in his mouth. Despite that, I tried to go into the breakfast meeting with an open mind.
In person Dr. Falwell reminded me simultaneously of my father in law (only larger and much older) and of the stereotypical Baptist preacher: well dressed, perfectly coiffed hair, a man of some girth, paternal yet still a good 'ol boy.
He spoke to all of the reps there for the missions conference and talked about the history of the school and their future vision. I came away from it rather impressed. What impressed me was his drive for excellence in Jesus' name. Certainly there are times when the pursuit of this standard can lead to poor choices, but the standard itself is not bad.
I have blogged on this before, but will make the point again. Jesus was excellent, and I believe his followers should pursue that standard as well. Why should everything Christian be second-best? When did it become OK to accept low quality so long as it's Christian? We used to lead the world in nearly everything: music, art, politics and education. Dr. Falwell reminded us that almost all the Ivy League schools were founded by Christians to train ministers.
Nowadays we lag. We've abandoned many of these fields out of some misguided sense of pietism. The point Dr. Falwell made is that we need to re-enter and make a solid contribution in Jesus' name, bringing faith and a Biblical perspective back into these arenas. Rather than just talk about it, he's doing something about it -- establishing a world class liberal arts undergraduate institution, along with a Bible institute and a seminary. They opened a law school three years ago and plan to open a medical school in the near future. I'm all for more Christians in the legal and medical fields.
In addition, he also talked about extending this drive for professionalism and excellence into the athletic realm. They have very intentionally built their athletic programs into Division I caliber, able to compete with and beat larger, better funded, more recognizable schools. They've already made huge gains in the basketball program and he said his goal with football was to one day go to South Bend and beat Notre Dame while sitting next to the Father (the President of Notre Dame). I'm not sure Jerry will live THAT long, but I like his moxie.
His frankness and ambition were refreshing. He wants to see Christ exalted -- and most especially in those arenas we have abdicated. May God grant them favor in this endeavor, for the benefit of us all.
In person Dr. Falwell reminded me simultaneously of my father in law (only larger and much older) and of the stereotypical Baptist preacher: well dressed, perfectly coiffed hair, a man of some girth, paternal yet still a good 'ol boy.
He spoke to all of the reps there for the missions conference and talked about the history of the school and their future vision. I came away from it rather impressed. What impressed me was his drive for excellence in Jesus' name. Certainly there are times when the pursuit of this standard can lead to poor choices, but the standard itself is not bad.
I have blogged on this before, but will make the point again. Jesus was excellent, and I believe his followers should pursue that standard as well. Why should everything Christian be second-best? When did it become OK to accept low quality so long as it's Christian? We used to lead the world in nearly everything: music, art, politics and education. Dr. Falwell reminded us that almost all the Ivy League schools were founded by Christians to train ministers.
Nowadays we lag. We've abandoned many of these fields out of some misguided sense of pietism. The point Dr. Falwell made is that we need to re-enter and make a solid contribution in Jesus' name, bringing faith and a Biblical perspective back into these arenas. Rather than just talk about it, he's doing something about it -- establishing a world class liberal arts undergraduate institution, along with a Bible institute and a seminary. They opened a law school three years ago and plan to open a medical school in the near future. I'm all for more Christians in the legal and medical fields.
In addition, he also talked about extending this drive for professionalism and excellence into the athletic realm. They have very intentionally built their athletic programs into Division I caliber, able to compete with and beat larger, better funded, more recognizable schools. They've already made huge gains in the basketball program and he said his goal with football was to one day go to South Bend and beat Notre Dame while sitting next to the Father (the President of Notre Dame). I'm not sure Jerry will live THAT long, but I like his moxie.
His frankness and ambition were refreshing. He wants to see Christ exalted -- and most especially in those arenas we have abdicated. May God grant them favor in this endeavor, for the benefit of us all.
Tuesday, February 20, 2007
X-treme X-cultural Xperience
I have lived in Austria, Germany, Iran and California, but none of those experiences quite compares to the cross-cultural moment I had tonight. What, you might ask, could trump those? Me speaking to a group of 182 college students -- every single one of them female. That's what.
When I first heard I was speaking to the students of one floor in a residence hall, it was going to be 60 female students. Then I found out a little later two other floors of the same hall didn't have speakers so I would be addressing all three floors of hall 25 -- a total of 182 girls. Even then I wasn't fazed. No, I was fine until I walked into the lecture hall at 9:45. I felt like I had just walked into the women's bathroom. Now I have never been in the women's bathroom, but I imagine it would be like this. Every single eye in the room was on me and I think I could hear them all thinking, "What is he doing here?!?!" (Note to my wife: I cannot actually hear women's thoughts.) They can't have been shocked though because I'm sure they were told they'd be having a guy speaking. They may, however, have been surprised to see that I was not 50, since just about every other agency rep here is.
Anyway, I did feel alternately like:
a) I was sitting in on a giant sorority meeting
b) I was the last living man on the planet
and c) I was bravely going where no man had gone before.
I think I just earned the right to be called a true "pioneer". Honestly, I was a little afraid. But I gathered my wits about me and addressed them, feeling very much like I'd stepped into a time warp and wound up back in 1950 (i.e. man speaks, women listen). Part of me wanted to call one of the women in the front row up, hand her my notes and insist that she speak instead while I sat in her seat or went outside to have a cigar and belch a few times.
But I made it through, got past the "dear Lord what am I doing here?" and the "my goodness these college girls can be very rowdy" and managed to deliver what I thought was a pretty competent message. Around 20 ladies stood up at the end when asked if there were any there who planned to go into full-time missions, though I'm sure most or all already planned to do so before I began. Hopefully some will have been impacted by what I said and will remember this night as long as I will.
When I first heard I was speaking to the students of one floor in a residence hall, it was going to be 60 female students. Then I found out a little later two other floors of the same hall didn't have speakers so I would be addressing all three floors of hall 25 -- a total of 182 girls. Even then I wasn't fazed. No, I was fine until I walked into the lecture hall at 9:45. I felt like I had just walked into the women's bathroom. Now I have never been in the women's bathroom, but I imagine it would be like this. Every single eye in the room was on me and I think I could hear them all thinking, "What is he doing here?!?!" (Note to my wife: I cannot actually hear women's thoughts.) They can't have been shocked though because I'm sure they were told they'd be having a guy speaking. They may, however, have been surprised to see that I was not 50, since just about every other agency rep here is.
Anyway, I did feel alternately like:
a) I was sitting in on a giant sorority meeting
b) I was the last living man on the planet
and c) I was bravely going where no man had gone before.
I think I just earned the right to be called a true "pioneer". Honestly, I was a little afraid. But I gathered my wits about me and addressed them, feeling very much like I'd stepped into a time warp and wound up back in 1950 (i.e. man speaks, women listen). Part of me wanted to call one of the women in the front row up, hand her my notes and insist that she speak instead while I sat in her seat or went outside to have a cigar and belch a few times.
But I made it through, got past the "dear Lord what am I doing here?" and the "my goodness these college girls can be very rowdy" and managed to deliver what I thought was a pretty competent message. Around 20 ladies stood up at the end when asked if there were any there who planned to go into full-time missions, though I'm sure most or all already planned to do so before I began. Hopefully some will have been impacted by what I said and will remember this night as long as I will.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Bad Airport, Bad Day or Bad Mood?
This has been a very schizophrenic weekend.
Saturday started out well. I ran my first 5K race and finished in a respectable 30:25 (or something like that; pictures are coming soon). This is respectable because I just started running again last month and had only run that far about a week ago. In college I was really fast, but that was 9 years and about 50 pounds ago, so my standards are a wee bit lower.
The day kind of went south from there. I went to a conference in Orlando called Fusion. I must admit now that my primary motivation for going wasn't to minister to the attendees but rather to hear David Crowder Band and Voddie Baucham. So through a series of what must be karmic misfortunes, I wound up hearing about a half of one song and about two minutes of Voddie's talk. And on top of that, only had about one meaningful conversation with an attendee (my secondary motivation for going). I spent most of the morning and early afternoon tracking down a TV and DVD player for our lunch session, which, on a positive note, was very well attended.
I got home mid-afternoon feeling rather tired (I got up at 5:45 on account of the morning race), but had to pack and prepare to leave for my two-week Virginia odyssey. I got to the airport at 6:30 for my 8:10 flight ... which turned into a 10:30 flight thanks not to bad weather, but to mechanical problems (travel frustration #1). Fortunately, Naomi came back to the airport and took me home so I wasn't sitting in the terminal for four hours. Nevertheless, I wasn't in the best of moods when I landed at about quarter past midnight at Dulles (frustration #2).
Wanting to make up time as fast as possible I was the first one off the plane and made my way quickly to the baggage claim -- only to discover that Dulles uses gigantic buses to transport people between the terminal and the baggage claim area, and my bus was going to wait for all the people on my plane, and all the crew, and the people cleaning the terminal and the Easter bunny (frustration #3). When we finally did get to baggage claim we waited about a half an hour before someone discovered our bags were going in circles around another carousel a couple carousels down from where they told us to wait (frustration #4). So now it's about 1am and I'm up past my bedtime.
It may be the grumpiness talking, but at this point I'm pretty sure Dulles is the worst airport in the United States. I've always had a soft spot in my heart for it since Die Hard 2 was a very good movie, but no more. I fly out of Raegan on the way back so we'll see if that's a suitable alternative.
Surprisingly enough I got my rental car without incident and then drove the 45 minutes to my best friend's place in Dumfries in a sporty two door Chevy something-or-other. I arrived at 2am and got a whole four and a half hours of sleep and roughly 30 minutes with my best friend before having to leave for Richmond.
It's amazing (yawn) that I made it (yawn) through the whole day (yawn). But I had help: my friend Dan shared his Costa Rican coffee with me and I discovered that there is coffee in the world that I actually enjoy! So perhaps coffee will be more than just a wake-up drug for me -- if I move to Costa Rica. I also got a nice nap in the afternoon after church yesterday.
Last night I slept almost nine and a half hours, so I'm feeling much better. Well, I'll have to get to yesterday's odd events later. It's time for lunch.
Saturday started out well. I ran my first 5K race and finished in a respectable 30:25 (or something like that; pictures are coming soon). This is respectable because I just started running again last month and had only run that far about a week ago. In college I was really fast, but that was 9 years and about 50 pounds ago, so my standards are a wee bit lower.
The day kind of went south from there. I went to a conference in Orlando called Fusion. I must admit now that my primary motivation for going wasn't to minister to the attendees but rather to hear David Crowder Band and Voddie Baucham. So through a series of what must be karmic misfortunes, I wound up hearing about a half of one song and about two minutes of Voddie's talk. And on top of that, only had about one meaningful conversation with an attendee (my secondary motivation for going). I spent most of the morning and early afternoon tracking down a TV and DVD player for our lunch session, which, on a positive note, was very well attended.
I got home mid-afternoon feeling rather tired (I got up at 5:45 on account of the morning race), but had to pack and prepare to leave for my two-week Virginia odyssey. I got to the airport at 6:30 for my 8:10 flight ... which turned into a 10:30 flight thanks not to bad weather, but to mechanical problems (travel frustration #1). Fortunately, Naomi came back to the airport and took me home so I wasn't sitting in the terminal for four hours. Nevertheless, I wasn't in the best of moods when I landed at about quarter past midnight at Dulles (frustration #2).
Wanting to make up time as fast as possible I was the first one off the plane and made my way quickly to the baggage claim -- only to discover that Dulles uses gigantic buses to transport people between the terminal and the baggage claim area, and my bus was going to wait for all the people on my plane, and all the crew, and the people cleaning the terminal and the Easter bunny (frustration #3). When we finally did get to baggage claim we waited about a half an hour before someone discovered our bags were going in circles around another carousel a couple carousels down from where they told us to wait (frustration #4). So now it's about 1am and I'm up past my bedtime.
It may be the grumpiness talking, but at this point I'm pretty sure Dulles is the worst airport in the United States. I've always had a soft spot in my heart for it since Die Hard 2 was a very good movie, but no more. I fly out of Raegan on the way back so we'll see if that's a suitable alternative.
Surprisingly enough I got my rental car without incident and then drove the 45 minutes to my best friend's place in Dumfries in a sporty two door Chevy something-or-other. I arrived at 2am and got a whole four and a half hours of sleep and roughly 30 minutes with my best friend before having to leave for Richmond.
It's amazing (yawn) that I made it (yawn) through the whole day (yawn). But I had help: my friend Dan shared his Costa Rican coffee with me and I discovered that there is coffee in the world that I actually enjoy! So perhaps coffee will be more than just a wake-up drug for me -- if I move to Costa Rica. I also got a nice nap in the afternoon after church yesterday.
Last night I slept almost nine and a half hours, so I'm feeling much better. Well, I'll have to get to yesterday's odd events later. It's time for lunch.
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Downers on the Web
What a bummer. I just found out that someone beat me out in registering the url "www.ilovethedowner.org". At least the person that beat me out is also John Downer, and not some other Downer. This John Downer has done some pretty gnarly work in the music video industry (he worked on Weird Al Yankovic's hilarious "White and Nerdy" video, along with Hoobastank's "The Reason" and quite a few others) and seems to be fairly well travelled too. Maybe it's gone to his head ... I mean you can't pick that web address yourself! Now if your wife/girlfriend/mother/best friend/employees establish that site, then you're on to something.
Makes me wonder if www.downer.com is already taken. ... yep: Downer & Co. Their website says, "Established in 1975, Downer & Company is widely considered the firm of choice for middle-market, corporate cross-border mergers & acquisitions." I was established in 1976 and am widely considered to be the best recruitment coordinator currently on staff at PIONEERS. Strange coincidence. If I ever cease to be that though, I wonder if they'd hire me at Downer & Co. Would my name make up for my total lack of experience in their field of business? Stay tuned for a future blog. Hey, they're based in Boston! I wonder if they have season tickets to the Sox?
Changing gears a bit, www.downer.org is the home for DNA: The Discipleship Network of America. Now we're talking! Not seeing an obvious connection with the last name though ... must probe further. Seems to be the ministry of a guy named Phil Downer ... and he was speaking in Sarasota just last month. Bummer, I missed him. He's an itinerant speaker/teacher it seems, so if I should go that route it seems I'll need to find another website or join forces with him. It'd be Downers on Parade. The people would come in droves I'm sure.
www.johndowner.com is taken, but nothing's up. Come on, man, use it or lose it!
Well, there still do appear to be some fine choices: www.johndowner.org, if I'm a non-profit, www.johndowner.net, if I'm not. www.johndowner.gov if I become my own incorporated state (highly unlikely) or www.ilovejohndowner.com if I get really full of myself (please stop me if I do).
But for now, we'll just stick to the blog and save the mass media and marketing for another day.
P.S. Tip of the day: trying googling your name sometime. Can lead to great fun, unless you have a really unusual or really common name. Then it's a bit boring.
Makes me wonder if www.downer.com is already taken. ... yep: Downer & Co. Their website says, "Established in 1975, Downer & Company is widely considered the firm of choice for middle-market, corporate cross-border mergers & acquisitions." I was established in 1976 and am widely considered to be the best recruitment coordinator currently on staff at PIONEERS. Strange coincidence. If I ever cease to be that though, I wonder if they'd hire me at Downer & Co. Would my name make up for my total lack of experience in their field of business? Stay tuned for a future blog. Hey, they're based in Boston! I wonder if they have season tickets to the Sox?
Changing gears a bit, www.downer.org is the home for DNA: The Discipleship Network of America. Now we're talking! Not seeing an obvious connection with the last name though ... must probe further. Seems to be the ministry of a guy named Phil Downer ... and he was speaking in Sarasota just last month. Bummer, I missed him. He's an itinerant speaker/teacher it seems, so if I should go that route it seems I'll need to find another website or join forces with him. It'd be Downers on Parade. The people would come in droves I'm sure.
www.johndowner.com is taken, but nothing's up. Come on, man, use it or lose it!
Well, there still do appear to be some fine choices: www.johndowner.org, if I'm a non-profit, www.johndowner.net, if I'm not. www.johndowner.gov if I become my own incorporated state (highly unlikely) or www.ilovejohndowner.com if I get really full of myself (please stop me if I do).
But for now, we'll just stick to the blog and save the mass media and marketing for another day.
P.S. Tip of the day: trying googling your name sometime. Can lead to great fun, unless you have a really unusual or really common name. Then it's a bit boring.
Monday, January 29, 2007
Thoughts on Grace
I've been reading Ephesians in my quiet time lately, going veeerrryyyy slowly so as to not gloss over any detail. Hence, just a few verses a day. I've been amazed at what I've seen while going through a book I've read dozens of times. This is what's struck me the most:
The word grace appears many times in Ephesians, and frequently with different meanings and applications. Here are a few examples, and my thoughts/interpretations...
1:2: "Grace and peace to you..."
Paul wishes that his readers would know and experience the grace that comes from the Father. I believe a key to my spiritual life is that I would experience daily this grace.
1:6: "...to the praise of His glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves."
Grace has been given to us, without cost to us. Jesus paid it all. How often, though, do I try to pay for it?
1:7 "...in accordance with the riches of God's grace that he lavished on us..."
This grace was lavished on us. What an usual word: "lavish". What else gets lavished? I don't have a good picture of what that looks like. I think it's like being smothered. How wonderful it would be to be smothered by grace! How wonderful, now that I think about it, it was and is, when I really let in sink in.
2:7 "...the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus."
Grace is expressed in kindness. Grace seems too big to me to be expressed by something as simple as kindness, but there it is. Of course, the kindness Paul refers to is Christ's sacrificial death on the cross, which kind of ups the ante on our typical definition of "kindness". Do we think of laying down our own lives as a form of kindness? Am I a kind person?
3:2: "...the administration of God's grace that was given to me for you, that is, the mystery made known to me by revelation..."
Now, a new understanding of grace. Grace, in this context, is a gift given to Paul for the benefit of others. This challenges me to think about what graces God has administered to me for the sake of the body of Christ. Part of the answer is, ironically, that God has administered to me a gift of administration. May that I use it well for the edification of all those who know Him.
3:7: "...by the gift of God's grace given me through the working of his power."
God's power is manifested in me through the gifts he has "graced" me with. These gifts are not something I've earned -- they are given to me without merit. And these gifts are not of myself -- they are the power of God in and through me. This calls me to stewardship of these gifts, not selfish exploitation of them, as sin in me is prone to make them.
3:8: "Although I am less than the least of all God's people, this grace was given to me: to preach to the Gentiles..."
I love Paul's humility. To us he's PAUL -- the awesome man of the Bible who we all aspire to be like in some way. In his own eyes though, he was less than the least. I believe his modesty is what made him great. And again, here he speaks of preaching as a grace -- an undeserved gift from God. His ministry was in itself an undeserved gift. And moreover, this ministry was to put salvation on its head: the message was for Gentiles too! This was an unpopular message among the Jews, but Paul considered it GRACE to be the one to preach it. That I would welcome and rejoice at ministry that is, at its core, hard.
4:7: "But to each one of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it."
What grace has been given to me and how am I meant to use it? My spiritual gifts and abilities are grace. My citizenships in heaven, and in the U.S., are grace. My intellect is a grace. My health is a grace. I deserve none of it. God's just chosen to bless me for some reason. And it seems clear to me that the reason is that I might be a blessing to others; that I might reveal something of the love of the Father to those who don't know that they, too, are loved with a zealous and everlasting love.
The word grace appears many times in Ephesians, and frequently with different meanings and applications. Here are a few examples, and my thoughts/interpretations...
1:2: "Grace and peace to you..."
Paul wishes that his readers would know and experience the grace that comes from the Father. I believe a key to my spiritual life is that I would experience daily this grace.
1:6: "...to the praise of His glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves."
Grace has been given to us, without cost to us. Jesus paid it all. How often, though, do I try to pay for it?
1:7 "...in accordance with the riches of God's grace that he lavished on us..."
This grace was lavished on us. What an usual word: "lavish". What else gets lavished? I don't have a good picture of what that looks like. I think it's like being smothered. How wonderful it would be to be smothered by grace! How wonderful, now that I think about it, it was and is, when I really let in sink in.
2:7 "...the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus."
Grace is expressed in kindness. Grace seems too big to me to be expressed by something as simple as kindness, but there it is. Of course, the kindness Paul refers to is Christ's sacrificial death on the cross, which kind of ups the ante on our typical definition of "kindness". Do we think of laying down our own lives as a form of kindness? Am I a kind person?
3:2: "...the administration of God's grace that was given to me for you, that is, the mystery made known to me by revelation..."
Now, a new understanding of grace. Grace, in this context, is a gift given to Paul for the benefit of others. This challenges me to think about what graces God has administered to me for the sake of the body of Christ. Part of the answer is, ironically, that God has administered to me a gift of administration. May that I use it well for the edification of all those who know Him.
3:7: "...by the gift of God's grace given me through the working of his power."
God's power is manifested in me through the gifts he has "graced" me with. These gifts are not something I've earned -- they are given to me without merit. And these gifts are not of myself -- they are the power of God in and through me. This calls me to stewardship of these gifts, not selfish exploitation of them, as sin in me is prone to make them.
3:8: "Although I am less than the least of all God's people, this grace was given to me: to preach to the Gentiles..."
I love Paul's humility. To us he's PAUL -- the awesome man of the Bible who we all aspire to be like in some way. In his own eyes though, he was less than the least. I believe his modesty is what made him great. And again, here he speaks of preaching as a grace -- an undeserved gift from God. His ministry was in itself an undeserved gift. And moreover, this ministry was to put salvation on its head: the message was for Gentiles too! This was an unpopular message among the Jews, but Paul considered it GRACE to be the one to preach it. That I would welcome and rejoice at ministry that is, at its core, hard.
4:7: "But to each one of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it."
What grace has been given to me and how am I meant to use it? My spiritual gifts and abilities are grace. My citizenships in heaven, and in the U.S., are grace. My intellect is a grace. My health is a grace. I deserve none of it. God's just chosen to bless me for some reason. And it seems clear to me that the reason is that I might be a blessing to others; that I might reveal something of the love of the Father to those who don't know that they, too, are loved with a zealous and everlasting love.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Hobbes Downer, 1988-2006
Late last month my parents had our cat Hobbes put to sleep. It was the humane thing to do because he was really struggling and seemed to be in constant pain, but he had been a part of our family for 18 years, so it's very sad to know he's gone.
Hobbes was, in a way, a rebound cat. About a year after my parents married in 1969 they got two cats: Tiger and Smudgy. Smudgy had a habit of peeing on the curtains, so he went to live on a farm. Tiger, however, lived with us for 18 years. He pre-dated both my brother and me as a part of the Downer household. When he died, in the summer of 1988, it was devastating.
We weren't a cat-less household though. We had picked up another cat four years earlier when we lived in California. Scamper had come with the house we were renting. She lived on the grounds and my brother and I eventually tamed her and she moved with us when we relocated to Nebraska. Still though, losing Tiger was tough.
We quickly decided to get another cat, to fill Tiger's spot in some way. My Mom and I picked out another tiger-striped one at our vet's office and gave him to my Dad as a birthday gift, since it was the first week of October. We named him "Hobbes" because we liked the comic strip a lot and I bore a strange resemblance to Calvin in those days.
Hobbes was a fun kitten, but demonstrated early on that he had a surly disposition and a "his way or the highway" approach to life -- which is typical of most cats, but not common among past Downer cats. In his later years he softened considerably. He became an "only cat" in 2002 when Scamper finally left us. And left us she did. Ever the stray, she wandered off one day at the age of 18 and we never saw her again.
By the Fall of this year, when he turned 18 himself, Hobbes was mostly deaf, had arthritis in his hind legs and bore many scars from battles won and lost over the years. He was housebound by then since he was a bit too proud to back down from any fight, even though his body was no longer up to it.
Now he's gone, and we will miss him. He may not have been the nicest, friendliest cat ever (that would be Esther, the cat I share with Naomi), but he was ours. He was a Downer cat. Now my parents' household is cat-free for the first time since 1969. It's a very strange thing. I'm sure it won't last long. We're cat people after all.
Hobbes was, in a way, a rebound cat. About a year after my parents married in 1969 they got two cats: Tiger and Smudgy. Smudgy had a habit of peeing on the curtains, so he went to live on a farm. Tiger, however, lived with us for 18 years. He pre-dated both my brother and me as a part of the Downer household. When he died, in the summer of 1988, it was devastating.
We weren't a cat-less household though. We had picked up another cat four years earlier when we lived in California. Scamper had come with the house we were renting. She lived on the grounds and my brother and I eventually tamed her and she moved with us when we relocated to Nebraska. Still though, losing Tiger was tough.
We quickly decided to get another cat, to fill Tiger's spot in some way. My Mom and I picked out another tiger-striped one at our vet's office and gave him to my Dad as a birthday gift, since it was the first week of October. We named him "Hobbes" because we liked the comic strip a lot and I bore a strange resemblance to Calvin in those days.
Hobbes was a fun kitten, but demonstrated early on that he had a surly disposition and a "his way or the highway" approach to life -- which is typical of most cats, but not common among past Downer cats. In his later years he softened considerably. He became an "only cat" in 2002 when Scamper finally left us. And left us she did. Ever the stray, she wandered off one day at the age of 18 and we never saw her again.
By the Fall of this year, when he turned 18 himself, Hobbes was mostly deaf, had arthritis in his hind legs and bore many scars from battles won and lost over the years. He was housebound by then since he was a bit too proud to back down from any fight, even though his body was no longer up to it.
Now he's gone, and we will miss him. He may not have been the nicest, friendliest cat ever (that would be Esther, the cat I share with Naomi), but he was ours. He was a Downer cat. Now my parents' household is cat-free for the first time since 1969. It's a very strange thing. I'm sure it won't last long. We're cat people after all.
Rethinking the Call to Missions
On Friday, at the closing luncheon for our latest Candidate Orientation Program at PIONEERS, the worship leader brought our attention to Isaiah 6:8 -- the call of Isaiah. He pointed out, however, that it really isn't a call in the sense that we often think of a call. Isaiah is more or less eavesdropping on something taking place in the heavens. He is not actively involved in the events taking place, he's just witnessing them. So he's there when God asks, "Whom shall I send and who will go for us?" Isaiah speaks up at this point. He makes himself known ("Here am I") and declares his willingness to be the answer to God's question ("Send me").
I think it's important to note that God does not tell Isaiah to go, nor does He address Isaiah specifically ("Will you go for me, Isaiah?"). Rather, He asks a broad question that implies the value He places on someone being sent out on His behalf.
I would like to suggest that it is still this way. How often I speak to people who are waiting for God to tell them to go, or who are waiting for the Lord to specifically ask them to go! They are looking for a clear sign from God -- something meant just for them. But the calling has already been given -- it is clear throughout the Word from Genesis 12 through to the end of the story in Revelation. The broad question has been asked since the beginning of time: Whom shall I send and who will go for us? God is calling on us to answer this question the way Isaiah did, by offering ourselves to Him at the very moment when we first become aware that He is still asking that question a couple thousand years later.
Realization that the question has been asked and is still being asked IS the call, and like Isaiah, we ought to be willing to respond without hesitation and without questioning whether it was really meant for me. Such questioning, in my experience, is often just a search for a way out because we do not want to be sent. We would much rather fade into the background and live out our days undisturbed by things of eternal consequence.
But this post is not meant to be a condemnation so much as it is a challenge to re-think our idea about "calling". The command is clear -- God wants us to be His representatives on earth. Do we have the courage and perspective to fulfill this calling just as Isaiah did? The calling is a group one -- issued to a community of people (all those who identify themselves as children of God), but the response is a specific one that each of us must make.
I think it's important to note that God does not tell Isaiah to go, nor does He address Isaiah specifically ("Will you go for me, Isaiah?"). Rather, He asks a broad question that implies the value He places on someone being sent out on His behalf.
I would like to suggest that it is still this way. How often I speak to people who are waiting for God to tell them to go, or who are waiting for the Lord to specifically ask them to go! They are looking for a clear sign from God -- something meant just for them. But the calling has already been given -- it is clear throughout the Word from Genesis 12 through to the end of the story in Revelation. The broad question has been asked since the beginning of time: Whom shall I send and who will go for us? God is calling on us to answer this question the way Isaiah did, by offering ourselves to Him at the very moment when we first become aware that He is still asking that question a couple thousand years later.
Realization that the question has been asked and is still being asked IS the call, and like Isaiah, we ought to be willing to respond without hesitation and without questioning whether it was really meant for me. Such questioning, in my experience, is often just a search for a way out because we do not want to be sent. We would much rather fade into the background and live out our days undisturbed by things of eternal consequence.
But this post is not meant to be a condemnation so much as it is a challenge to re-think our idea about "calling". The command is clear -- God wants us to be His representatives on earth. Do we have the courage and perspective to fulfill this calling just as Isaiah did? The calling is a group one -- issued to a community of people (all those who identify themselves as children of God), but the response is a specific one that each of us must make.
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Christmas Leftovers
I didn't get a chance to get this out before leaving for Urbana, so consider it a helping of Christmas leftovers...
My pastor, at our Christmas Eve service, based his message on John 3:16 ... for God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life (my NIV/KJV mishmash paraphrase). This is a familiar verse of course, but not one that I often recall hearing on December 24ths past.
On second thought though, it's perfect. That second thought occurred as I sat in the pew that night. I don't recall anything else he said as late night turned into morning. I got stuck on this verse and it suddenly dawned on me how incredibly brilliant the whole thing is.
God gave His Son! And He gave Him as a baby ... completely weak and helpless. His entry into the world was a marvelous picture of humility that would be topped only by His exit from it. But let me get back to that verb: gave. God handed Him over, in a sense. And then what did we, who received Him, do? We paid Him no mind for 30 years, marvelled at Him for two or three, got tired of His antics and then put Him to death.
But God knew it would be this way all along. Why then did He give Him to us? What would possess Him to do such a thing? Well that's what's so brilliant! It was part of the plan all along. God knew, even at Jesus' birth, that He was sending Him to His death. He knew that we would put Him on a cross, but He also knew that insodoing, we would be setting in motion the plan that would defeat Satan for good. He knew that only a guiltless man perishing could ever release us from the curse of Death that had rested upon us since Adam. So He gave His Son to us, with full knowledge that we would reject and crucify Him and that through this treachery salvation would be made possible for all men.
It's brilliant. He fooled us all, but Satan most of all. He did not come as we might have expected, nor did He accomplish what we might have expected or hoped for, but He delivered instead something entirely unexpected, but also unforgettable and incomparable. To God be the Glory -- His ways are higher than ours!
Here's hoping you might rejoice in the brilliance of Christmas!
My pastor, at our Christmas Eve service, based his message on John 3:16 ... for God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life (my NIV/KJV mishmash paraphrase). This is a familiar verse of course, but not one that I often recall hearing on December 24ths past.
On second thought though, it's perfect. That second thought occurred as I sat in the pew that night. I don't recall anything else he said as late night turned into morning. I got stuck on this verse and it suddenly dawned on me how incredibly brilliant the whole thing is.
God gave His Son! And He gave Him as a baby ... completely weak and helpless. His entry into the world was a marvelous picture of humility that would be topped only by His exit from it. But let me get back to that verb: gave. God handed Him over, in a sense. And then what did we, who received Him, do? We paid Him no mind for 30 years, marvelled at Him for two or three, got tired of His antics and then put Him to death.
But God knew it would be this way all along. Why then did He give Him to us? What would possess Him to do such a thing? Well that's what's so brilliant! It was part of the plan all along. God knew, even at Jesus' birth, that He was sending Him to His death. He knew that we would put Him on a cross, but He also knew that insodoing, we would be setting in motion the plan that would defeat Satan for good. He knew that only a guiltless man perishing could ever release us from the curse of Death that had rested upon us since Adam. So He gave His Son to us, with full knowledge that we would reject and crucify Him and that through this treachery salvation would be made possible for all men.
It's brilliant. He fooled us all, but Satan most of all. He did not come as we might have expected, nor did He accomplish what we might have expected or hoped for, but He delivered instead something entirely unexpected, but also unforgettable and incomparable. To God be the Glory -- His ways are higher than ours!
Here's hoping you might rejoice in the brilliance of Christmas!
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Urbana 06
I don't have any idea where to begin... how do you capture a week that changes your life?
Last night I slept 13 hours. Went to bed at 7:30pm and got up at 8:30 this morning. That's how tired I was. I don't think I've slept that long since I was in diapers. I was tired on every level: physically, emotionally and spiritually. But I've never had a more enjoyable time getting that exhausted.
I actually made it to three plenary sessions this time (compared to one last) and the speakers were pretty good. Rick Warren showed up and Bono had taped a message for us -- both were worth listening to. The worship was much better than last time and I often got carried away singing along with 22,000 others. We made a ton of contacts this time too: we collected more than 800 cards to follow up on -- compared to 548 last time. Each of those 800 represents a life -- someone God is stirring up -- and now the real work of follow up begins. Even these 800 represent only a portion of the people we encountered and ministered to. Many of my conversations didn't end in filling out a card. And that's OK. It's not about PIONEERS growing larger or doing more -- it's about the Spirit of God working in the hearts of His people.
But none of these was the highlight. The highlight was the time spent with our team. What an amazing privilege to be part of this group. Even though the team came together much later than it did three years ago, God was clearly knitting it together. We had an incredible spirit of unity even though many of us met for the first time on December 27th.
Our team meetings on the 28th (two hours), 29th and 30th (one hour each) and 31st (one and a half hours) were highlights of my life thus far. We got to know each other through a quick game, covered a lot of details about meals, appointments, schedules and other logistics and came together each morning through a devotional led by one of the team. But what made it so great were the prayer times we shared and the stories we shared about the people we'd met the previous day. That's when we really came together I think. We rejoiced to hear how God was moving, answering our prayers and drawing people to Himself. We prayed passionately for the people we'd met, for each other, for lost people around the world. It was just an amazing experience to feel the Lord moving among us and through us.
It was a great conference for PIONEERS as well. More than once we overhead a student tell another to go to the PIONEERS booth because "they pray for you there". And we did -- after every single conversation. Many people stopped by to have their picture taken with our giant globe (check it out below) ...
We also had many people stop by because of an email I'd written about a week before. Like every other organization attending Urbana (there were about 270 there), we were given the opportunity to purchase a list of attendees who'd indicated that they were "highly motivated" to go into missions. We purchased this list and sent out an email, as did 20-25 other organizations. I wrote the email and knowing that they'd be getting quite a few, made a distinct effort to make mine personal, heartfelt and not the least bit manipulative or pushy. It seems to have hit the mark. I got a number of responses leading up to the conference and many more people who stopped by mentioned the email as a principle reason they'd come to us. It was very gratifying to see what effect those words had had on people.
In general, I didn't have as many great conversations at Urbana this year as I'd had last time, but I feel very good about my role in all of it. My best work for Urbana may have been the email, but it may also have been just acting as the leader for our team and being able to guide them, by God's grace, into a place where He was invited to work through us. I feel like I took on many cares and concerns last week so that the team didn't have to, and in being freed from those details, they were freed up to concentrate wholly on blessing those we came to serve. So it worked. It was perfect and I'm so thrilled, blessed, happy, humbled, weary and jubilant.
To God be the Glory. I will remember this experience the rest of my life.
Were you there? What's your story?
Last night I slept 13 hours. Went to bed at 7:30pm and got up at 8:30 this morning. That's how tired I was. I don't think I've slept that long since I was in diapers. I was tired on every level: physically, emotionally and spiritually. But I've never had a more enjoyable time getting that exhausted.
I actually made it to three plenary sessions this time (compared to one last) and the speakers were pretty good. Rick Warren showed up and Bono had taped a message for us -- both were worth listening to. The worship was much better than last time and I often got carried away singing along with 22,000 others. We made a ton of contacts this time too: we collected more than 800 cards to follow up on -- compared to 548 last time. Each of those 800 represents a life -- someone God is stirring up -- and now the real work of follow up begins. Even these 800 represent only a portion of the people we encountered and ministered to. Many of my conversations didn't end in filling out a card. And that's OK. It's not about PIONEERS growing larger or doing more -- it's about the Spirit of God working in the hearts of His people.
But none of these was the highlight. The highlight was the time spent with our team. What an amazing privilege to be part of this group. Even though the team came together much later than it did three years ago, God was clearly knitting it together. We had an incredible spirit of unity even though many of us met for the first time on December 27th.
Our team meetings on the 28th (two hours), 29th and 30th (one hour each) and 31st (one and a half hours) were highlights of my life thus far. We got to know each other through a quick game, covered a lot of details about meals, appointments, schedules and other logistics and came together each morning through a devotional led by one of the team. But what made it so great were the prayer times we shared and the stories we shared about the people we'd met the previous day. That's when we really came together I think. We rejoiced to hear how God was moving, answering our prayers and drawing people to Himself. We prayed passionately for the people we'd met, for each other, for lost people around the world. It was just an amazing experience to feel the Lord moving among us and through us.
It was a great conference for PIONEERS as well. More than once we overhead a student tell another to go to the PIONEERS booth because "they pray for you there". And we did -- after every single conversation. Many people stopped by to have their picture taken with our giant globe (check it out below) ...
We also had many people stop by because of an email I'd written about a week before. Like every other organization attending Urbana (there were about 270 there), we were given the opportunity to purchase a list of attendees who'd indicated that they were "highly motivated" to go into missions. We purchased this list and sent out an email, as did 20-25 other organizations. I wrote the email and knowing that they'd be getting quite a few, made a distinct effort to make mine personal, heartfelt and not the least bit manipulative or pushy. It seems to have hit the mark. I got a number of responses leading up to the conference and many more people who stopped by mentioned the email as a principle reason they'd come to us. It was very gratifying to see what effect those words had had on people.
In general, I didn't have as many great conversations at Urbana this year as I'd had last time, but I feel very good about my role in all of it. My best work for Urbana may have been the email, but it may also have been just acting as the leader for our team and being able to guide them, by God's grace, into a place where He was invited to work through us. I feel like I took on many cares and concerns last week so that the team didn't have to, and in being freed from those details, they were freed up to concentrate wholly on blessing those we came to serve. So it worked. It was perfect and I'm so thrilled, blessed, happy, humbled, weary and jubilant.
To God be the Glory. I will remember this experience the rest of my life.
Were you there? What's your story?
Sunday, December 17, 2006
and now for something completely different...
It's been a month since I ranted about EvangePen, EvangeBall and Scripture Aids and now I have a new product that has attracted my spite: Frosted Flakes. Not the original Frosted Flakes (hereafter "FF"), but the 1/3 less sugar variety. What are they hoping to accomplish here? They should call this product "Corn Flakes with a Tease". They are so incredibly far from the glory of the original FF that they do not deserve to carry the FF name. Tony the Tiger should appear on the box as a shaved wet kitten. I think the 1/3 LS FF should be terminated immediately and be relegated to the same product hades that now holds New Coke and Zima. But that's just my opinion, as one who holds sugar in very high regard. (And for the record, I've only ever had one cavity in my life).
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Blogworthy Weekend, Act 3
It's now the next weekend and I haven't finished reporting on the last one, so I best get to it.
The last blog-worthy event from last weekend had nothing to do with the concert, though before moving on from that I should note that I am still on a spiritual high because of it. Though the CD isn't as good as the live show, each track brings me back to last Saturday and how my spirit was lifted and my soul cried out in praise to God.
... Last Sunday at Bible study we got to talking about repentance and living a good life and we explored a bit the ambiguity in such a pursuit. How much do we strive for this, and how much of it is God bringing about holiness in our lives? What is our responsibility and what is only possible because of Him? This is one area where the Scriptures seem to say contradictory things: "In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood" (Hebrews 12:4), yet at the same time "all our righteous acts are like filthy rags" (Isaiah 64:6). We bring all we can to the table, yet nothing at all. "For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out" (Romans 7:18).
I am left without knowing precisely what I am to do. I can't piece together the Scriptures so that I can understand how exactly this transaction (sanctification in me) takes place. And consequently, if I am not living as though I am sanctified, I don't know what's gone wrong in the transaction that I should now aim to fix.
This elusive understanding is quite frustrating for me and has been a stumbling block in my relationship with God, who, I'm figuring out, is all-around quite an elusive fellow.
By comparison I think about the movie "The Illusionist". I liked the movie because it was an interesting re-imagining of an historical event and took place in locales that I know well from my time living in Austria. I did not like it however because it did not resolve tidily. One aspect of the "miraculous" ending was explained to the audience, but still other parts vital to the unfolding of the puzzle were left unrevealed, and these parts are entirely unbelievable apart from total suspension of one's judgment or, preferably, a suitable explanation. So I felt cheated. The ending would have been more satisfying if how it came about could be naturally explained in its entirely, or if none of it had been explained and all of it had to be left to our imaginations.
So it is with me and God. The aspects of His ways that remain mystical and out of reach to empirical study frustrate me greatly and leave me feeling, at times, cheated. How can I follow Him, as He asks, if indeed I am hopeless to truly follow Him apart from what grace He gives me to follow? In this reasoning, is it not His responsibility then to give me the grace to do what He wants me to do? And yet, I cannot deny that I play some part. My Spirit speaks truth to this.
So I am flummoxed. Yet, on Sunday night last weekend it dawned on me that this may be precisely where God wants me to be. Flummoxed. God is elusive because He could not be God if He were not. If He could be empirically attained, by me or others far smarter than me, He would not be what He most certainly is. He must be out of reach.
And yet He does not leave us with this. He has intentionally asked us to reach for Him -- to pursue Him -- so that we are engaged. Not passive beings merely waiting for eternity to take us back. We were created to engage: with Him, with other human beings. So He's created in us a need to reach, a desire to reach and a command to reach.
In the end, it all works much better if we do this (somehow -- though I don't entirely understand how). But at the same time we must know that He is God alone and will always be beyond our grasp.
I have an unexpected peace about this right now. But I suspect I'll come back to this point again and again as long as I live. It seems to be in my nature to try to figure things out, and divine things are not excluded from this nature.
(If any of this makes sense to anyone else, well I'm amazed because it's quarter past one in the morning and I've been reading way too much Dickens lately!)
The last blog-worthy event from last weekend had nothing to do with the concert, though before moving on from that I should note that I am still on a spiritual high because of it. Though the CD isn't as good as the live show, each track brings me back to last Saturday and how my spirit was lifted and my soul cried out in praise to God.
... Last Sunday at Bible study we got to talking about repentance and living a good life and we explored a bit the ambiguity in such a pursuit. How much do we strive for this, and how much of it is God bringing about holiness in our lives? What is our responsibility and what is only possible because of Him? This is one area where the Scriptures seem to say contradictory things: "In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood" (Hebrews 12:4), yet at the same time "all our righteous acts are like filthy rags" (Isaiah 64:6). We bring all we can to the table, yet nothing at all. "For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out" (Romans 7:18).
I am left without knowing precisely what I am to do. I can't piece together the Scriptures so that I can understand how exactly this transaction (sanctification in me) takes place. And consequently, if I am not living as though I am sanctified, I don't know what's gone wrong in the transaction that I should now aim to fix.
This elusive understanding is quite frustrating for me and has been a stumbling block in my relationship with God, who, I'm figuring out, is all-around quite an elusive fellow.
By comparison I think about the movie "The Illusionist". I liked the movie because it was an interesting re-imagining of an historical event and took place in locales that I know well from my time living in Austria. I did not like it however because it did not resolve tidily. One aspect of the "miraculous" ending was explained to the audience, but still other parts vital to the unfolding of the puzzle were left unrevealed, and these parts are entirely unbelievable apart from total suspension of one's judgment or, preferably, a suitable explanation. So I felt cheated. The ending would have been more satisfying if how it came about could be naturally explained in its entirely, or if none of it had been explained and all of it had to be left to our imaginations.
So it is with me and God. The aspects of His ways that remain mystical and out of reach to empirical study frustrate me greatly and leave me feeling, at times, cheated. How can I follow Him, as He asks, if indeed I am hopeless to truly follow Him apart from what grace He gives me to follow? In this reasoning, is it not His responsibility then to give me the grace to do what He wants me to do? And yet, I cannot deny that I play some part. My Spirit speaks truth to this.
So I am flummoxed. Yet, on Sunday night last weekend it dawned on me that this may be precisely where God wants me to be. Flummoxed. God is elusive because He could not be God if He were not. If He could be empirically attained, by me or others far smarter than me, He would not be what He most certainly is. He must be out of reach.
And yet He does not leave us with this. He has intentionally asked us to reach for Him -- to pursue Him -- so that we are engaged. Not passive beings merely waiting for eternity to take us back. We were created to engage: with Him, with other human beings. So He's created in us a need to reach, a desire to reach and a command to reach.
In the end, it all works much better if we do this (somehow -- though I don't entirely understand how). But at the same time we must know that He is God alone and will always be beyond our grasp.
I have an unexpected peace about this right now. But I suspect I'll come back to this point again and again as long as I live. It seems to be in my nature to try to figure things out, and divine things are not excluded from this nature.
(If any of this makes sense to anyone else, well I'm amazed because it's quarter past one in the morning and I've been reading way too much Dickens lately!)
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Blogworthy Weekend, Act 2
My experience at the concert this weekend got me thinking about worship services and styles. I had to ask myself why I often have such a hard time getting into the whole "sing worship songs, have announcements, offering, sermon, go home" routine on Sunday mornings? Some days I can enter into true worship while singing, others not so much. Despite the fact that our pastor is a very good speaker and delivers solid messages, I don't long remember most of what he brings us each week. On the other hand though, the concert Saturday night was incredibly engaging for me and I expect I'll remember it for the rest of my life. 72 hours later many of the lyrics, melodies, visuals and the overall feeling are still very vivid to me. Why is it so much easier to remember all that?
I think I arrived at an answer on Saturday night... and it started like this: I'm left-handed.
As you probably know, lefties tend to access the right side of their brain more and this side of the brain is where we get our creativity and, well, it's our artistic side. So lefties tend to be more artistically expressive than their right-handed oppressors (err, I mean "counterparts"). Many of the most famous artists in the world were left-handed: M.C. Escher, Leonardo da Vinci, Raphael, Michelangelo, Pablo Picasso, Lewis Carroll, Leo Tolstoy, Kurt Vonnegut, Douglas Adams, H.G. Wells, J.S. Bach, Jimi Hendrix, Kurt Cobain, David Bowie, James Brown, 50 Cent, Billy Corgan, Phil Collins and Charlie Chaplin, to name a few. It's an impressive list considering only 8-12% of all people are left-handed. We're disproportionately represented in lists of artistic talents.
I could go on for some time about all this, but I digress ... the point is: though I do not sing, play an instrument, paint, compose or anything of the sort, I'm somewhat inclined toward the arts, and I believe that my heart wants to express itself and be spoken to in artistic forms. Hence, a well-written song might have more of an impact on me than a well-delivered sermon. Now if that same sermon were performed theatrically somehow, it might capture me more. Likewise, music can have varying degrees of artistic value. Some people play songs, some people create art and others lead worship -- a small few lead others into worship through their art and these are my favorite people of all.
Bottom line: I think I'm a bit of an artsy type, even though I do not look or act the part. Maybe that makes me a closet artsy type. And maybe it's time for me to come out of the closet and embrace my inner artsiness. It is, after all, God-given ... just as being left-handed is!
I think I arrived at an answer on Saturday night... and it started like this: I'm left-handed.
As you probably know, lefties tend to access the right side of their brain more and this side of the brain is where we get our creativity and, well, it's our artistic side. So lefties tend to be more artistically expressive than their right-handed oppressors (err, I mean "counterparts"). Many of the most famous artists in the world were left-handed: M.C. Escher, Leonardo da Vinci, Raphael, Michelangelo, Pablo Picasso, Lewis Carroll, Leo Tolstoy, Kurt Vonnegut, Douglas Adams, H.G. Wells, J.S. Bach, Jimi Hendrix, Kurt Cobain, David Bowie, James Brown, 50 Cent, Billy Corgan, Phil Collins and Charlie Chaplin, to name a few. It's an impressive list considering only 8-12% of all people are left-handed. We're disproportionately represented in lists of artistic talents.
I could go on for some time about all this, but I digress ... the point is: though I do not sing, play an instrument, paint, compose or anything of the sort, I'm somewhat inclined toward the arts, and I believe that my heart wants to express itself and be spoken to in artistic forms. Hence, a well-written song might have more of an impact on me than a well-delivered sermon. Now if that same sermon were performed theatrically somehow, it might capture me more. Likewise, music can have varying degrees of artistic value. Some people play songs, some people create art and others lead worship -- a small few lead others into worship through their art and these are my favorite people of all.
Bottom line: I think I'm a bit of an artsy type, even though I do not look or act the part. Maybe that makes me a closet artsy type. And maybe it's time for me to come out of the closet and embrace my inner artsiness. It is, after all, God-given ... just as being left-handed is!
Monday, December 11, 2006
Blogworthy Weekend, Act 1
I just had a very blogworthy weekend ... so blogworthy I need at least three posts to get it all out. So here we go...
Blogworthy Weekend, Act 1 (acts 2 and 3 should be along soon after)...
Saturday night Naomi and I went to a concert called "Behold the Lamb" that's done by Andrew Peterson, with help from Derek Webb, Sandra McCracken, Jill Phillips, Gabe Scott, Andy G-something-or-other and Eric Peters. That lineup was enough to get us to drop $10 a person on tickets -- we didn't need to know what the concert was all about. If you don't know these artists, I highly recommend you check them out -- google them, look 'em up in I-Tunes or wherever else you get music.
Anyway... it was, quite simply, the best concert I've ever been to. It had a little bit of everything, and everything was done really, really well.
Andy P. started with one of his songs and then introduced the other musicians and explained what would be happening that night. Then five of the artists -- Derek, Sandra, Andy G., Jill and Eric Peters -- each had a chance to do two songs -- each did one and then they went through the lineup again.
I knew what I would get with Derek -- he's always tight. I had heard at least one Sandra song (Derek has done a few she's written -- they're husband and wife) and I knew of Jill Phillips, but had never really listened carefully to either of them. They were both revelations. Very strong singers with well-written, pleasant songs. Sandra has enough country in her (particularly on a song called "Chattanooga") that when Derek joined her on her second song it seemed very much like he was playing Johnny to her June Carter Cash. Andy G., who happens to be married to Jill Phillips (are they trying to breed talented musicians?) was the big winner of that part though with his offering of a song about Andrew Osenga's toe.
Yes, you read that right. Andy played a song about a toe. Not just any toe though. Andrew Osenga's toe. Andrew Osenga has appeared in this blog before -- he's the guy who replaced Derek Webb in Caedmon's Call. He's also the guy I met in Denver on my way from the rental car place to the airport terminal. About a month after that chance encounter he cut his toe off in a lawnmowing accident. Well Andy G seems to find inspiration in odd places and wrote a riotously funny song about Andrew Osenga's toe: it's last meal was roast beef; it wanted to go off to market too; it left in a helicopter ... you get the picture.
Now, 48 hours later it seems rather macabre to laugh about another guy's misfortune, but I'm sorry -- it was THAT funny. I've gotta get a copy somehow. If only I could remember Andy G's last name!
With apologies to Eric Peters, who was good, but not as good as the other four, we now move on to the second half of the show.
Oh ... my ... goodness.
So the second half was the "Behold the Lamb". Andrew Peterson (there are too many Andrews in this story) explained that he wanted to do a Christmas album, but not with covers of the traditional (read: overdone) songs. He wanted to do new material. So he did. Then he invited some friends along to help make it awesome. So Andrew wrote the songs using his clever, whimsical lyrics (he does one song about the lineage of Jesus that is amazingly good considering that the lyrics are really weird names connected by "begat") and folks like Derek, Sandra, Jill and others provide harmonies and background vocals.
He also works in, at various points, plenty of violin parts, drums, a dobro and a hammered dulcimer, creating this rich blend of sounds and also showing off the incredible collection of talent on the stage. One such highlight ... Gabe Scott and John the violin guy (playing mandolin instead) on an acoustic version of "O Come O Come Emanuel". It was just worshipful seeing talented people use those talents and do it to honor Him.
The whole thing was ... whatever the aural version of a spectacle is ... an auracle? It was something to behold, except via listening and not beholding. You get the idea.
Lyrically, it was exceptional in that he begins, not with Mary, but with Moses. He goes all the way back into the Old Testament and spends at least the first four songs dealing with the history of Israel and the prophecies that set the stage for the birth of Christ. Understanding that this context is so important he makes sure we get it before moving on to the events captured especially well in Luke and Matthew.
When we do get there, and spent the latter half of the concert exploring that, there's a well of worship ready to spring forth. I haven't had such a hard time sitting since I was a fidgety 12 year old. I wanted to leap onto my feet hands outstretched and sing with them: "glory to God!" Listening to and interacting with the final two or three songs was the most worshipful experience I've had in years. It captured the whole season for me.
Again, musically it was the best worship I've had since I've been back in America. Lyrically, it was better than all but about ten sermons I've ever heard in my life. On the whole, nothing quite measures up to Handel's Messiah as a Christmas masterpiece, but this is a fine entry for the 21st century.
If it comes to your neck of the woods, I highly recommend checking it out and only hope that I haven't created too high an expectation in your mind.
More later ... for now, I've got to go home and eat some dinner.
Blogworthy Weekend, Act 1 (acts 2 and 3 should be along soon after)...
Saturday night Naomi and I went to a concert called "Behold the Lamb" that's done by Andrew Peterson, with help from Derek Webb, Sandra McCracken, Jill Phillips, Gabe Scott, Andy G-something-or-other and Eric Peters. That lineup was enough to get us to drop $10 a person on tickets -- we didn't need to know what the concert was all about. If you don't know these artists, I highly recommend you check them out -- google them, look 'em up in I-Tunes or wherever else you get music.
Anyway... it was, quite simply, the best concert I've ever been to. It had a little bit of everything, and everything was done really, really well.
Andy P. started with one of his songs and then introduced the other musicians and explained what would be happening that night. Then five of the artists -- Derek, Sandra, Andy G., Jill and Eric Peters -- each had a chance to do two songs -- each did one and then they went through the lineup again.
I knew what I would get with Derek -- he's always tight. I had heard at least one Sandra song (Derek has done a few she's written -- they're husband and wife) and I knew of Jill Phillips, but had never really listened carefully to either of them. They were both revelations. Very strong singers with well-written, pleasant songs. Sandra has enough country in her (particularly on a song called "Chattanooga") that when Derek joined her on her second song it seemed very much like he was playing Johnny to her June Carter Cash. Andy G., who happens to be married to Jill Phillips (are they trying to breed talented musicians?) was the big winner of that part though with his offering of a song about Andrew Osenga's toe.
Yes, you read that right. Andy played a song about a toe. Not just any toe though. Andrew Osenga's toe. Andrew Osenga has appeared in this blog before -- he's the guy who replaced Derek Webb in Caedmon's Call. He's also the guy I met in Denver on my way from the rental car place to the airport terminal. About a month after that chance encounter he cut his toe off in a lawnmowing accident. Well Andy G seems to find inspiration in odd places and wrote a riotously funny song about Andrew Osenga's toe: it's last meal was roast beef; it wanted to go off to market too; it left in a helicopter ... you get the picture.
Now, 48 hours later it seems rather macabre to laugh about another guy's misfortune, but I'm sorry -- it was THAT funny. I've gotta get a copy somehow. If only I could remember Andy G's last name!
With apologies to Eric Peters, who was good, but not as good as the other four, we now move on to the second half of the show.
Oh ... my ... goodness.
So the second half was the "Behold the Lamb". Andrew Peterson (there are too many Andrews in this story) explained that he wanted to do a Christmas album, but not with covers of the traditional (read: overdone) songs. He wanted to do new material. So he did. Then he invited some friends along to help make it awesome. So Andrew wrote the songs using his clever, whimsical lyrics (he does one song about the lineage of Jesus that is amazingly good considering that the lyrics are really weird names connected by "begat") and folks like Derek, Sandra, Jill and others provide harmonies and background vocals.
He also works in, at various points, plenty of violin parts, drums, a dobro and a hammered dulcimer, creating this rich blend of sounds and also showing off the incredible collection of talent on the stage. One such highlight ... Gabe Scott and John the violin guy (playing mandolin instead) on an acoustic version of "O Come O Come Emanuel". It was just worshipful seeing talented people use those talents and do it to honor Him.
The whole thing was ... whatever the aural version of a spectacle is ... an auracle? It was something to behold, except via listening and not beholding. You get the idea.
Lyrically, it was exceptional in that he begins, not with Mary, but with Moses. He goes all the way back into the Old Testament and spends at least the first four songs dealing with the history of Israel and the prophecies that set the stage for the birth of Christ. Understanding that this context is so important he makes sure we get it before moving on to the events captured especially well in Luke and Matthew.
When we do get there, and spent the latter half of the concert exploring that, there's a well of worship ready to spring forth. I haven't had such a hard time sitting since I was a fidgety 12 year old. I wanted to leap onto my feet hands outstretched and sing with them: "glory to God!" Listening to and interacting with the final two or three songs was the most worshipful experience I've had in years. It captured the whole season for me.
Again, musically it was the best worship I've had since I've been back in America. Lyrically, it was better than all but about ten sermons I've ever heard in my life. On the whole, nothing quite measures up to Handel's Messiah as a Christmas masterpiece, but this is a fine entry for the 21st century.
If it comes to your neck of the woods, I highly recommend checking it out and only hope that I haven't created too high an expectation in your mind.
More later ... for now, I've got to go home and eat some dinner.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
My Family ... Thanksgiving 2006
Top row: sister-in-law Ann, brother David, Naomi and me. Bottom row: my niece Katie, Dad, Mom and my nephew Matthew.
Aren't they cute!
Monday, December 04, 2006
Superlatives, vol. 2
Current faves...
Album: Sufjan Stevens, "Come On Feel The Illinoise". Diverse, odd, infectious, brilliant.
Song: "Casimir Pulaski Day" from the above album. Doesn't end tidily like most songs by Christians do. This one stops with the author still struggling and asking questions, which is where I live a good portion of my life too.
Movie: "Hotel Rwanda". Powerful and convicting. Why didn't we do anything? I was only 18 at the time, but there will be another Rwanda in my lifetime and I wonder if I'll be ready to respond. Perhaps Darfur is it, right now.
Album: Sufjan Stevens, "Come On Feel The Illinoise". Diverse, odd, infectious, brilliant.
Song: "Casimir Pulaski Day" from the above album. Doesn't end tidily like most songs by Christians do. This one stops with the author still struggling and asking questions, which is where I live a good portion of my life too.
Movie: "Hotel Rwanda". Powerful and convicting. Why didn't we do anything? I was only 18 at the time, but there will be another Rwanda in my lifetime and I wonder if I'll be ready to respond. Perhaps Darfur is it, right now.
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