Tag Archives: Commentary on Human Condition

to the Caucuses – Day #10 & 11? – The Heat is On

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Had a short (1 hour or so) delay to our flight leaving Central Asia, & arrived in the HEAT (35C/95F) of the Caucuses around 10:30 p.m. Turns out we had a few fellow DLT attendees on the plane with us, & we navigated the belly of the airport relatively unscathed. The cleanliness of the bathrooms really was impressive – they even smelled good. Cleared customs without an issues & gathered our luggages from the crawling carousel. Thank you Jesus.

Met our host for the next few days in the waiting area just outside of baggage claim & began the sometimes awkward (for me at least) process of meeting new people… a daunting task for me on a good day at home; especially challenging given the combo of everyone’s tiredness, late night, language challenges/barriers, & newness. We got sorted into a collection of Ubers & began the circuitous 30 minute journey to our hotel, weaving in & out of stop & go traffic, navigating the labyrinth of streets & combo of downtown neighborhoods & McCarran like streets. And then we arrived at our hotel. Kind of.

I’ve gotta say – getting dropped off in an alley, albeit with a sign for the hotel announcing its presence, was more than a little daunting. Hotel sign is there – where’s the hotel? Pulled our suitcases deeper into the alley, which, to be fair, had a bend at the end, so it wasn’t like we were in an alley with no exit… just no visible exit. Dark. Foreboding. Unfamiliar. We got about 10 yards into the alley & saw a collection of big city, almost Chicago-style restaurants inhabiting the ground floors of the myriad buildings crowded in around us, topped with what seemed to be a tetris collection of flats, apartments, & unknowns.

Right then, a car we hadn’t seen because of the darkness & probably our tiredness backed out of an alcove in the alley. It stopped & the driver rolled down the window & said, “You are looking for ….” & named the hotel. We said “Yes” & he pointed around the corner, smiled & headed out. We made our way in that direction & yes, indeed, there was our hotel, a 1920’s themed hotel built out into a 6 story old(?) new building. Seamlessly checked in & made our way to our top-floor room… to discover the temp in our room was 92. Ahhh. Quickly found the thermostat & worked out how to crank that A/C DOWN to 20C/68F. (BTW – that was Wednesday night; right now it is 7:30 a.m. Friday & it STILL hasn’t gotten below 22C/71F). But 71 > 92, at least when it comes to the temperature of one’s hotel room.

The room is about 1/3 the size of our room at the Be Fine, but it is still workable although without adequate dressers & with 1/2 the room taking on the low, sloping slant of the roof…  once we got our bags mostly stowed & our clothes put where they needed to be for the next few days, it was time for bed. Mostly. Too hot to sleep still I loaded up our VPN  & we watched part of a Hallmark show, a pleasant reminder of home.

Good sleep, slow morning, & breakfast in the hotel dining room. Typical setup of a boutique hotel breakfast area, but with local cuisine & breakfast items… & of course, cocoa puffs. Before this trip I hadn’t eaten them in at least 5 years. I ate two bowls. Went back to the room & crashed for another hour or so, then puttered around until lunchtime connections with our other DLT friends in the dining room. Got to meet a few new friends from nearby countries; I’m thankful that everyone speaks at least a tiny bit of English.

Our longtime friend from Germany, Ewald, is here. He’s on the board of directors of the Eurasian Bible College & has been ministering in the region for > 2 decades. He is a steadying force of a man, stable, encouraging, & grandfatherly (he has appeared that way since i met him back in the early 2000’s… even though he’s a little younger than me.) There have been logistical challenges & spiritual attacks/circumstances that will (probably) keep a couple handfuls of people who were signed up for the DLT from coming. There were about 25-30 people registered & we had about 15 who made it to the first session last night. Not 100% sure, but I think this might be the total number. We’re meeting in the hotel’s conference room, a small, odd-shaped room with few amenities or technology, but plenty of places to sit & comfy/cozy layout that facilitates squeezing into chairs around the tables & having easy conversations.

What precious people. Our hearts are moved & we feel connected to them as well…

Van Gogh in the live

Even though it was hot, we decided to brave the night with Ewald, our friend from last year, A, & a young 30 something couple who actually live in the city we were just in in Central Asia. We both connected with them & spent the next couple of hours walking the often cobblestoned streets of this ancient city & neighborhood looking at the things, taking the sights, sounds, & smells. Barkers stood outside their restaurants, hawking their food choices; humanity pressed up & down the street with people of every age & demographic packed into crowded spaces.

The group decided on gelato & we found an out  of the way shop with great A/C. Sat & talked for about 30 minutes, then made our way back to our hotel.

PRAYER REQUEST – I felt a twinge of pain in the bottom of my left foot about 1 inch below the joint on the 4th toe (you know, the little piggy who “had none.”) Not quite the ball of my foot. It hurts. Suddenly painful to walk or touch, bottom or top of the foot. I didn’t actually DO anything that seemed to cause it. I was walking on the uneven cobblestones, & then I noticed the pain.

As I type this in the morning on Friday, it hasn’t gotten worse… its just not any better. No swelling to speak of – its weird.

And we press on.

Breakfast in an hour or so, then 10-1 p.m. & 3-6 p.m. are our DLT sessions today, talking Family, Marriage, Husbands/Wives. We will see how it goes.

Central Asia – The Blur of Days #7-9 – DLT

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Monday around noon we loaded up the family van & headed to the Be Fine Hotel on the other side of the city… a decent 10 mile trek through midday traffic in a bustling city of 4 million. How long could it take?

2 hours. At least 2 hours. Stop & go traffic. Vehicles playing their own versions of a game resembling Frogger, Tetris, & tag. More close calls than I care to revisit. No accidents seen. Angels on overtime.

Settled into our hotel room with a brief respite before the opening sessions of DLT kicked off. This particular conference is Module 2 of the DLT material, “Marriage & Family” & the topics we covered over the last 3 days include – Discipleship & Leadership Training within the context of:

  • Family – what is it & what are God’s purposes for the family unit? How does God work with family to teach people about Himself & His character & life?
  • Marriage – who gets to define what is the purpose of marriage? What does Scripture have to say about marriage? How do you navigate through cultural & social norms for marriage when they are in conflict with Scripture? (For example, many cultures in Asia embrace the male dominated, female subservient role within marriage, where the husband is the absolute authority & ruler in the relationship, & the wife’s role is to serve the husband (& often the extended family of both sides – hers & her husbands), have children (esp. boys), often being treated more as a servant &/or possession than a partner. In Christ, marriage can be seen elevated to a loving partnership where both parties submit to one another out of reverence for Christ; where the husband takes on the servant leadership role of headship of the wife, laying down his life for her like Christ laid down His life for the church; where the wife willingly submits to her own husband (think 2 cars merging into 1 lane to avoid a crash) – instead of insisting on forcing her way ahead of her husband or into a domineering role over him, she comes alongside & walks with him.
  • the significant roles of the fathers & mothers in establishing & maintaining the identity & direction of the children; the role of spiritual fathers & mothers in providing care, leadership, encouragement, & mentorship in the pursuit of relationship with Christ, esp. for people who haven’t had the support/care of natural parents, or whose parents didn’t know Christ/didn’t teach them about life with Him.
  • the role of the single (unmarried) persons; the ultimate goal for all people for all life isn’t marriage – & singles aren’t to be pitied & treated as pariahs until the day when they could somehow (gasp!) enter into normal life & be married. There is a huge value on the individual in Christ.
  • Balancing family, life, work etc – living in rhythm & rest; embracing the Sabbath as a normative part of life for the Christian disciple;
  • As I’m doing this off the top of my head, I’m forgetting a couple of sections…

As I’m typing this, it is now Wednesday at 6 a.m. We’ll be doing our last sessions of this Central Asian DLT in about 4 hours – over the last 3 days, our schedule has included at least two 3-hour sessions to present the material through a translator, initiate & moderate discussions around the 5 or 6 tables where the participants are scattered 4-6 deep; provide opportunities for meaningful feedback from the participants.

The drain on the brain is real – trying to teach & “facilitate” while attempting to think in simple, easily translatable concepts, avoiding Americanisms & idioms that we rely on for our daily communication without even knowing it. Think:

  • Watching paint dry.
  • Actions speak louder than words.
  • Hang in there.
  • The last straw.

All of these were used this week. Native English (or at least Northern NV Americans) would easily pick up what is being said with each of these phrases… but for the Central Asian for whom English (not American, but English – there is a HUGE difference) is a 3rd or 4th language, it is tough & requires stopping, giving an explanation, re-translations, etc. Add to the mix the nuanced & emotionally charged topics of marriage & family which are often fraught with disappointment, frustrations, & unmet expectations, & you’ve got quite the brain drain.

Add to that 3 meals a day – social & conversational events that require patience, a sense of humor, & more than a few attempts to even get a cursory understanding of the simplest of interactions & you see why & how a person gets fried.

We’re 12 hours ahead of home, which makes for easy math, but not great sleep. We’ve been able to head to bed around 10 each night, often passing out quickly only to reawaken in the middle of the night (I’ve seen the clock turn from 2 to 3 a.m. every night so far) & struggle to get back to sleep before the morning responsibilities kicked in.

After our last session & receiving communion together today, we’ll be packing our bags & (eventually) heading to the airport where we’ll catch a flight to our next destination in the Caucasus where the Russian-language DLT starts tomorrow (Thursday for us – at 2 p.m.) It will wrap up Saturday evening with communion & celebration.

We’re looking forward to reconnecting with our dear friends who are the overseers for the Eurasian Bible School – people we got to know last year who are meeting us there for the DLT. From what we’ve been told, there are participants coming from several surrounding countries – all who have committed to the 18-month DLT process as they explore formalizing their personal & their churches relationships with Foursquare & either joining or, more often, beginning the process of forming the Foursquare Church in their country of origin. It’s a long & relational process – & I have to say – people are people.

Thank you for your prayers & support – they are helping us through some challenging times & we are seeing God doing some really cool things in healing marriages, providing hope & thoughts of a different & preferable future, in addition to growing as disciples of Christ. After all, what good is our faith if it doesn’t have a transformational effect on us in every area of life, especially in our interpersonal interactions with loved ones & family – both family of origin & chosen.

Increase & abound in love…

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This morning as I read through 1Thessalonians, the following passage stood out to me:

Now may our God & Father Himself & one Lord Jesus, direct our way to you, & may the Lord make you INCREASE & ABOUND in LOVE for ONE ANOTHER & for ALL, as we do for you, so that He may establish your hearts blameless in holiness before our God & Father, at the coming of our Lord Jesus with all His saints. 1Thess 3:11-13 – ESV – Emphasis mine

This is something I need; an extra dose even. The love Paul is talking about isn’t a “feeling” or an “emotion;” it’s a choice & an orientation. It’s a promise that says, “This is how I will be towards you. Oriented towards unconditional love, with a willingness & desire to receive people in the same way & same manner Christ receives me.

I’m convicted of lovelessness. Of  (un)intentionally(?) withholding myself from people… which results in distance & separation & an inability to connect SO THAT relationship can develop through shared time, shared space, & shared experience.  In the middle of this, I realize that my challenge in this area is rooted in fear, in rejections I’ve experienced in the past, & in a faulty(?) assumption that a person’s undesirable qualities, attributes, & flaws might be transmittable or rub off on me. That their ‘ick’ would become my own ‘icks.’

Romans 5:6-8 details how Christ loves us & gave Himself for us – before we had our stuff together; before we’d decided to turn & follow Him. While we were still at our worst, most detestable selves… And He chose love… the unconditional, without strings love that goes beyond circumstance & understanding… a covenant promise that declares “This is how things will ALWAYS be between us: built on the foundation of Christ’s love that goes first, that reaches out, that receives us, so that we (I) can be becoming what He made me to be.

Apart from Jesus going first, I can’t do that. We can’t do that.

But in Him, by the power of the Holy Spirit alive & active in my life, I can increase & abound  in love for ONE ANOTHER & for ALL. And in doing so, I am changed, from the inside out, for the better, to be a little more like Jesus is with me.

A real-life story:

30 or so years ago, I led a mission trip to San Quintin, Baja California. One of our main outreaches was to migrant camps; these were temporary homes for migratory workers from Oaxaca & Chiapas regions of Mexico, people who worked in the strawberry (& other) fields, picking the harvests until it was time to move to the next camp & next set of fields.

We encountered huge numbers of mostly unaccompanied kids – between 6 months – 5 years old. Any older than that they were working alongside their parents in the fields. We did games & songs & brought snacks, food supplies, shoes, over-the-counter ‘cheater’ eyeglasses, & any other thing we could possibly think of to make life better.

One particular day while I was participating in games with the kids, I heard a young child (I’m guessing 12-18 months old) crying unconsolably. This wasn’t new & it happened ALL the time; today was different. This child wouldn’t be comforted. They wouldn’t stop crying. They kept wailing & crying & it became obvious this was more than the normal situation we’d grown accustomed to seeing in the camps.

A couple young ladies from our team – early teens (13-16 ish) swept in to see what they could do to console the child & also the child’s ‘guardians,’ most likely older siblings 4-5 years old, charged with keeping their sibling alive during the long days of separation from the parents. After a few minutes I made my way over to where the young ladies (& one of our team who was a nurse) were trying to get to the bottom of the distraught child.  What I saw still sticks in my brain as fresh as if it were happening today.

This child was wearing a ragged tshirt & a diaper… a diaper that had been duct-taped on so that no matter how soiled & full it got, it would stay on. I don’t know HOW LONG it had been on this child, but it was full. It was torn. It was filthy. It was one of the worst sites I’d ever seen in person.

The young ladies & nurse communicated with the siblings what they were doing &, gently & softly, began the cleaning up process on the little one. They worked on her for at least 30 minutes maybe more, removed layers of dirt, waste, & the like. They gently cleaned & disinfected the child’s wounds & rashes, most likely caused by wearing the duct-taped diaper for so long that it did damage to the baby’s skin. So much pain. So much hurt.

And finally, the little one was ‘clean.’ With a fresh diaper on, a new tshirt & some too-large pants to help protect her little legs. And April, one of the young women from our team who’d been a part of the whole cleaning  process, wrapped the child up in her arms & held her close, softly whispering comfort & songs to the child until the cries turned to whimpers & finally, to soft breathing as she fell asleep, disappearing into dreamland.

Afterwards on the way back to our home base, I looked at April. She was filthy, covered all over with the mess that had been on the baby. She didn’t notice, though, because she had been too busy loving & comforting & caring for the child. I can remember thinking that day, (& today),”THAT is what the love of Jesus looks like.” I wept.

Jesus comes to us at our worst, in our mess, & loves us. He’s not diminished or repulsed by our ‘ick,’ but instead He loves us to wholeness & makes us clean.

And He invites us to ‘let our love, HIS love in & through us, INCREASE & ABOUND to one another & to all.

Lord, work in me – I pray you give me the love that is Yours – an unconditional Jesus-like love that transforms me & the ones who receive it.

 

Delivered from bondage – Psalm 107

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Today’s Psalms reading includes Psalm 107. I was especially captivated (no pun intended) by the following verses:

He brought them OUT of darkness & the shadow of death & burst their bonds apart; let them THANK the Lord for His steadfast love, for His wondrous works to the children of man! For He SHATTERS the doors of bronze & CUTS in two the bars of iron. Psalm 107:14-16 – NIV

The Psalmist describes the incredible deliverance brought about by the Lord, the God who delivers His people from hopeless & impossible situations. God enters into the darkness & rescues His people, bringing them from dark to light, while completely destroying the bonds that held them stuck. His motivation for doing so is not nefarious or self-serving; it is due to His steadfast love & care for His people. The inescapable prison of bronze doors & iron bars are shattered & cut through by the power of God. The result? Deliverance. Freedom. Great joy. Thankfulness. Hope.

I spent about 15 minutes just pondering the ramifications of this Psalm: the significance of a God who saves; delivers; rescues; does the impossible, even to destroying the most impregnable & hopeless prisons the enemy could throw at us.

I imagined myself in bondage, broken down over time to not even consider that there could be a different way to live. My existence is futile & I hope for nothing because I am powerless to affect any change in my circumstances; if I could have gotten myself out of the mess, I’d have done it already. My efforts to free myself only made things worse.

But the Lord God…

That’s our hope. The mighty hand & outstretched arm of the Lord God. The One who does the impossible. The One who conquered death, the grave, & Hell. The One who brings us out of the Darkness through His mighty power. The One who breaks the bonds that have held us fast for who knows how long. The One who crushes the doors & bars of our prison cells with a word.

That’s why no matter how stuck we are, no matter how hopeless our situations seem, no matter how dark our days have become… there is still One we can turn to & know that He will not only HEAR us, He will ANSWER us.

Several times today – much more than a ‘normal day,’ I’ve heard of situations that people are facing that make me shudder. Situations that are terrible & hopeless & dark & complicated & impossible….

And yet, they’re really not. Because of the Lord God, the God who HEARS & the God who ANSWERS.

And when He sets us free, we are TRULY free.

“…Let us thank the Lord for His steadfast love, for His wondrous works to us!” 

John Leavy Locke – 1/22/1973 – 6/17/1990

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If I Stand…

This is the 34 year anniversary of my brother Johnny’s death… sometimes, some years, the grief waves are small & manageable, barely tinged with a sting. Others, the waves are wild, unpredictable, & unruly, crashing into me & dashing me around like a rag doll.

This is one of those “wild, unpredictable, & unruly” wave years.

And so I write. I’ve found that the combination of remembering & rehearsing memories – & writing them down – helps mitigate (or at least spread out to a manageable level,) the grief.

Grief. It is a weight that causes shoulders to slump, & backs to bend. It can approach slowly & almost imperceptibly, or it can slam you to the ground. Sometimes carrying grief feels like carrying a 5 gallons jug of water with 3 gallons of water in it; its uneven, unbalanced, & sloshy… making any sort of movement difficult to sustain, as the sudden sloshing of the water can throw you off balance & knock you to your knees. Or face.

I’ve found grief makes people uncomfortable… especially when its been a while since the passing & loss of a loved one. “Time heals all wounds,” is a mantra I’ve had stated to me more than once. Or “…at least you got him for 17 years…” There’s a whole bunch of “at leasts,” people throw out as leaden lifelines, meaning well, but doing nothing except to emphasize their own discomfort & disconnection with the feeling. (I’d recommend checking out Brene’ Brown’s short video on Empathy  – in a few short minutes she offers several great insights on how to come alongside someone without making the pain worse. But I digress.)

I’m thankful for the people in my life who will just sit with me, without having to say something to try to make it better. Who send a text, a note, or a phone call to say, “I’m with you today.” I’ve learned that one of the greatest helps for navigating grief is to feel it, to be where you are, & to acknowledge it as the present reality I’m experiencing. Denying it, ignoring it, burying it, minimizing it, etc… none of those things “fix” the grief… because, I don’t believe, it CAN be fixed. Nor should we try to FIX it.

At this point, I think the best course of action for navigating grief, FOR ME, is to ride it out. To talk to another person who will listen without judgement or excess word-spam. To intentionally make sure to do things that make the day bearable. To get a good work out & take a “mental & emotional health regulating” sauna. To read in the Psalms. And if I feel like crying, I cry.

Yesterday, on the actual anniversary, I wrote (typed out) a long blog with all sorts of things I remember about my brother Johnny – from our childhood up through (& past) his death. And right before I posted it, I had an issue where the whole thing was deleted. Unretrievable.

Instead of trying to re-create it immediately (or breaking things & losing my biscuits,) I decided to take the rest of the day to “be” & then to tackle a new blog today, taking it where it would go. I’ve decided to touch on a couple of the memories here.

I remember…

  • Folding newspapers in the wee hours of the morning. The smell of newspaper ink & rubber bands. The conversations about nothing & everything. Our beloved Giants & 49ers. Spiritual matters. Family, younger brothers, chores, & school.
  • Sharing a room in Carson. We’d had our own rooms in Reno so the forced shared space was a great gift & a time I treasure… especially remembering Johnny’s rants about me talking too long on the phone with theBean.
  • Johnny getting sent home from school on the 1st day of 9th grade for wardrobe infraction. He wore his Jetsons T with multi-colored board-shorts & vintage black-white-red Air Jordans. Carson Jr High had no clue what to do with him. Our great-uncle Bruce used to scratch his head & loudly declare, “That boy dresses like a clown.” The world wasn’t ready for Johnny’s style, & he didn’t care.
  • The mixtapes. Johnny & I spent hours curating our own ancient version of today’s Spotify playlists using our dual cassette boombox… Russ Taff, Steve Taylor, Rich Mullins, DeGarmo & Key, Rez Band, Altar Boys to name a few. The title of this blog IF I STAND, is taken from our favorite Rich Mullins song… something we both declared we wanted to aspire to be. People who STAND.
  • The cancer diagnosis, treatments, & battles… too many & too painful to go into detail again (did that yesterday & it helped. Don’t want to go there today.) I just know that throughout, Johnny didn’t complain or ask, “Why me?” He embraced his life-path as the one God gave to him – kind of like Hananiah, Azariah, & Mishael – aka Shadrach, Meshach, & Abed-nego in the fiery furnace. He knew God could heal him in a moment; but if He didn’t, Johnny was still going to worship Him with all of his heart.
  • The last days at home, where Johnny’s body betrayed him & he weakened. We talked around his home-hospital bed. I got up to leave & he said, “I love you brother.” And I kept walking up the stairs, echoing back to him, “I love you too.”  The pain & intimacy of the moment seemed too much to bear & went & stood outside by my car in the gravel at the top of the driveway, weeping, asking God to heal my brother. And I KNEW that He was there; I could sense His tangible presence. And in a way, His sadness too. But there wouldn’t be a healing this side of heaven. So many times I wished I’d gone back downstairs & just sat with Johnny some more instead of leaving. It is one of my life’s great regrets, & was a great source of pain & sorrow for me for many years.
  • The phone call from my mom in the late 4 a.m. hour of 6/16; the blur of the day(s) following. The memorial service. The songs. The eulogy. The people who came. The numbness.
  • Having to move forward with “normal” life again. The weird things people would say to try to make it better, failing miserably. The religious pontifications people would spout thinking they were providing answers, all the while filled with so much crap & lack of awareness that it was physically painful. Still fires me up a little. (Ok, a lot.)
  • Our family unit moving forward, albeit with a hole in it. There was a big gap where in a different world Johnny’s wife & kids would have taken their place in our hearts & my kids would have had cousins near their own ages. Birthdays & holidays & anniversaries & life. We’re still growing, & still moving forward. And still, there’s a hole.

One more thing – remember the “life’s great regret” I mentioned a minute ago? About 10 years after Johnny’s death, I had a vivid dream where I encountered Johnny in a vividly colored, almost too bright to see place… I had to squint to see, but he didn’t. He was older than I last remembered, somewhere between 18 & 35ish, the picture of health, with fair skin & ruddy cheeks, his signature flowing mullet (he pulled it off so well,) & he radiated LIFE. I embraced him for what seemed to be an eternity & then we talked. He told me stories that were wonderful & that are just at the edge of my memory today, things that feel like a promise of what is to come. I expressed to him my great regrets at not coming back downstairs & sitting with him, & rehearsed the fact that I love  him. He hugged me again & gave me reassurance that it was more than ok. The pain & regret I’d carried for years melted that moment, & have never returned. And then he had to go; he turned to me & smiled & headed out & I woke up.

It was healing & restful for the soul. I’m not sure how to define what happened, so I won’t. I just know my burdens were lifted.

Miss you Johnny. So much. Save me spot; I’ll be seeing you eventually.

“It’s your choice…”

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“It’s your choice.”

Years ago, a German friend confronted me in the middle of one of my “minor” fits of anger using just those words.

“It’s your choice.”

His admonition didn’t alleviate the slow burn I was experiencing; it made it worse. He obviously didn’t understand that I was JUSTIFIED in my anger, & that it was BECAUSE a whole series of things had gone WRONG & I was DISAPPOINTED & when I tried to share my disappointment using my WORDS, my wife (seemingly, to me in my agitated slow burn of a fit) DISREGARDED my (righteous) frustration. It was like she MADE me escalate my anger.

A disclaimer: It wasn’t one of those loud, visibly angry episodes; rather, it was my preferred kind of fit… kind of storming around with a furrowed brow, abrupt movements, fierce silence… I was mad, after all. And I was justified in being mad; all the things that hadn’t gone the way I WANTED them to go MADE me mad. Not “feeling” heard made me even MADDER.

At this rate of simmer & feeding the fires of indignation, I could have a full blown rage going pretty quick. Here it comes.

My friend interrupted my huffy-puffy-ness with a question: “What’s wrong with you? Why are you acting this way?”

So I let him have it… both barrels of explanation & indignation at all the things that were going WRONG, all the areas I was FRUSTRATED, all the things other people were DOING to antagonize me…

He listened for a minute & then… shrugged his shoulders, made a disinterested (to me) expression, & told me, “It’s your choice.”

And then he walked away. Leaving me speechless. I couldn’t believe it. How could he SAY it was my CHOICE? I was RESPONDING. I was FEELING.

I was, I was, I was… what?

…I was choosing to give myself over to stupid anger. I was feeding it with bits of indignation & throwing the fuel of misunderstanding on as well.. I was working myself up towards a rage under the guise of something happening TO me, completely ignoring that the response was coming from a force of will & my chosen action.

The rebuke of my friend turned into a time of soul-searching. I couldn’t help but hear the whispered conviction of the Holy Spirit, emphasizing, firmly & gently, that this response that I’d conditioned myself to accept as normal & ok & NOT my fault (or my choice), was actually 100% me. It WAS my choice to respond in anger. It WAS my choice to allow the offense to escalate. It WAS my choice to engage in self-pity. It WAS my choice.

Which meant…

I could CHOOSE differently.

Maybe not in my own strength & abilities; its not an easy thing to undue & break out of past patterns of behavior, especially those with such a strong dopamine hit of self-righteous pity & anger. But I could ask Jesus to do a work in me, by the power of the Holy Spirit – to CHOOSE something different. To still FEEL & PROCESS, but not to give myself over to self-indulgently negative, self-focused pity parties, masked with the ugliness of an on-the-edge anger that threatened (or at least made noise about) blowing up & really losing it.

That was A turning point. Not necessarily THE turning point, but A turning point. From that day forward, I would hear my friend’s rebuke, flavored with extra by the Holy Spirit: “It’s your choice.” And because it was my choice, I could CHOOSE differently. Consistently. Choices that led to stronger relationship with my spouse & kids. Choices that would foster relationship, trust, & healthy predictability with others.

And that is still my prayer – that I CHOOSE well, in each moment where I am tempted to fall back into the well worn rut of what is now a 20 year ago path. I don’t want to fall back into that behavior, & neither do I want to lose ground that was gained with a lot of blood, sweat, & tears.

It’s your choice…

I am a seed, embracing limits, & other musings…

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I find myself doing more pondering than I used to do, even a few short months ago… not sure if its solely the lag & slowly-but-surely attempt to re-engage the motor that always happens for me coming back from a long trip as I work through the physical, mental, & emotional costs of said trip, no matter how enjoyable or productive it may have been.

Work is different & the rhythms I’d grown used to (fallen into) over the last few years have been shaken up with a (virtual) head-shaking, sinus-clearing whiff of smelling salts brought on by change. Instead of just jumping back into the known & the familiar, I find myself stopping & observing, thinking on & through, & leaning more & more on my foundations for encouragement & possibly, for some directions as I go forward into December & toward the brink of 2024.

Jerry Cook used to say, “If you don’t know what you’re DOING, limit your activities. And if you don’t know what to SAY, limit your words.”  And so in these days I’m finding myself choosing (rather than begrudgingly complaining my way to & through) to embrace those limits of NOT knowing, surely, confidently, what to do. To say.

It’s not apathy. Nor inertia. It has the feel of a ‘gathering of self’ kinda like you’d do before you’d JUMP or SPRING towards something. (I’m picturing Mario C Champagne, a childhood cat much loved by all, getting ready to pounce. And pounce he did. But he could also linger. But I digress.)  i occasionally feel pressure (probably from firstborn, formerly Type A me) to DO something, to JUMP in & lead loud & fast & confidently towards… something. But what I have is nothing concrete, merely the subtle encouragements, a sense of being drawn towards/by the things/person I know & trust… to keep taking the steps in front of me that need to be taken. To lean on myBean & also on my Savior, trusting that I need both to encourage & remind me of things spoken to me long ago, things that are in process of being worked through now.

Sitting at my desk, looking out the window. Melancholy? Peace?

And I’m hit with this: I am a seed, (with the lyrics too.) Haven’t thought of that song in a minute (or a decade.) And yet… I am a seed. SOMETHING is definitely happening, but there’s not much ACTIVITY happening. Like a seed. In the ground. Waiting for the shaking off of the old form, the kernel that’s held me for so long, waiting for roots to sprout DOWN & for life to spring UP. Knowing I can’t make it happen by wanting, as the process isn’t mine to force. I’m on the timeline of Another; the Gardener who planted me knows His times & His seasons. And He knows not only WHEN the shaking/breaking will begin (emerge?) but also WHAT will come forward. And, like the fruit/plant/green that doesn’t even remotely resemble the seed it came from, that which is coming (probably) won’t look like the seed did… but it will be GOOD. And then the activities, the words, will be more evident.

This is the way. Walk in it. These are the words. Speak them.

Deutschland 2023 – Days #15 & 16 “Fun with Alex & Linda, which mostly involved trying out new restaurants & street food… “

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Day 15 – the afternoon & evening

We met Alex & Linda in the courtyard of the building where our flats are located, & made our way through the maze to one of the adjoining streets to meet our Uber. They typically employ 1 of 4 modes of transportation: walking, riding a bike, hiring an Uber/taxia, or (rarely) taking the public transportation system (combo of buses/S & U-bahn trains.) The driver dropped us off & it was just a short walk to Parma Pizza. To say it was a hole in the wall makes it seem bigger than it was… there were 3 or 4 tables crammed into 2 rooms, & the ‘kitchen’ was literally 2 steps from our table. Alex stepped into the kitchen twice & was reprimanded each time for violating the ‘chef’s’ space, but it’s not like he could access his seat without stepping into the kitchen. Inside of the rooms looked like a half-finished construction site where the workers had gone home for the weekend, leaving a bunch of stuff half-done, with tools & supplies strewn around the room. There were two guys in the kitchen area; one, the owner/chef, the other, a guy who kept sampling the box of wine on the edge of the super tiny refrigerator. He reminded me of someone who was probably a buddy of the owner who comes to hang out at his buddy’s place in the hopes he’ll be able to sponge some free food & drink if he hangs out long enough. The chef guy looked as though he was an Italian photographer just returned from a taxing & oh-so-draining photoshoot somewhere & by the way he acted, it sure didn’t seem like he was happy to have customers. I dubbed him “Artist Guy” & the other guy was “the Leech.” 

He finally got around to bringing us our menus & made a big show about the artistry of his pizzas… he took the time to explain several of the pizza options to us, in German & English, even though we already knew what we wanted to order. Once we ordered, he engaged in conversation with the Leech for about 15 minutes, seemingly forgetting we were there. Eventually our drink orders came, with our bottled water & the finest boxed red wine the kitchen had to offer placed hurriedly on the table so Artist guy could get back to his conversation.

He remembered we were there to EAT, so he frantically began to assemble the ingredients for the pizzas we’d ordered on his prep counter & then painstakingly made the pizzas, popping them 1 by 1 into the pizza oven on the far side of the kitchen. Good thing they only had to bake for about 90 seconds. Artist guy deposited the pizzas in front of us & stepped back into the kitchen. 

About this time, a younger guy arrived, complete with a dark mullet of curls on his head (theBean said they were the size of the classic pink 1 1/2″ sponge hair roller that hadn’t been brushed out after removing the curlers); he spoke only broken English & his native Italian, & he seemed to be there to do all the jobs Artist guy didn’t want to do.

Pizza was ok – I got a Salamewurst & Tomato & Mozzarella & theBean had a ham pizza (ham put on after the pizza cooked, much to her chagrin & displeasure.) We ate our fill & laughed a lot around the tiny table in the bizarre pizza place/construction zone while the Leech drank more wine & the Mullet guy went through the motions of cleaning & puttering around looking for something. 

We had a blast… time with Alex & Linda is always the BEST time. Good conversations on a variety of topics: Jesus, church life, health, exercise, conspiracy theories, Joe Rogan, specialty meal replacement shakes, work (Alex works in a start-up that does high end health supplements & Linda is a supervisor in the educational system, focusing much of her life on helping foreigners & others trying to make the best of school in Germany.)

Alex had us rolling with his active & quick sense of humor & Linda’s joy & love of life are evident in every conversation we had with her. Truly dear & much loved friends. 

After our meal, since it wasn’t raining (YES) we decided to stretch our legs & walk home through the dark back streets of Berlin’s Kreuzberg & Neukölln neighborhoods; it only took about 30 minutes & it was really refreshing, esp. considering how much we had sat around with little activity the first week of our trip. Went up to their flat for more talks & a late night glass of wine… eventually made our way across the courtyard to our flat & were in our room a minute later. It was a good day.

DAY 16 – Templehof, Street Food, & Crazy Kim’s

Woke up late & headed to the Cafe Bread for coffee & a breakfast pastry… guy from yesterday wasn’t working (bummer) & but the new girl hooked us up & quickly as we settled into our spot to read, enjoy our coffee & people watch. Alex worked until 1 p.m. & Linda until 5, so theBean & I went for a walk through the neighborhood & picked up some supplies from the local grocery store. When Alex called us, we met him outside at an Uber & made our way downtown for some “on the go” site-seeing & a quick stop for a ‘snack’ at Goldie’s Smashburger &.I’ve had smashburgers in the US & they were ok… nothing compared to a good 3×3 animal style, protein style, w/extra grilled onions & cheese, no tomato, no spread, ketchup & mustard please @ In-N-Out burger, but ok.  

This was > ok. This was incredible. Keep in mind, we stopped here for a snack… & also because we hadn’t had a burger our whole time in Germany. So of course, we ended up getting doubles, which were the size of my two fists together. We came at the perfect time, so no line. By the time we were done eating, the line had wandered down the block. We crushed our burgers (so good) & took turns sampling the fries until we couldn’t eat any more. This was, by far, the food highlight of our trip. 

After eating waaaay too much for a snack, we wanted to do some walking, so we made our way through the streets til we finally got to the old Templehof Airport (check out the link for Templehof above), the site of the Berlin airdrops that saved Berlin in 1948 & 1949 (go USA). This massive former airport is now a recreation area, where miles of former taxi & runways have been turned into places for exercise, (bikes, roller blades, scooters, & foot power), with large grassy areas here & there for picnics, kid-friendly recreation, & a couple designated dog parks. Very cool, & lots of places to stop & read about the history of the place. Spent about 90 minutes walking & ended up on the far side of the airport, where we (thank the Lord) found bathrooms that were open & available for usage, without any fee. (NOTE: most of the time to use a toilet in a store/restaurant in Germany/Europe, it will cost you at least 1 Euro. Put that on your list of Even More Things to be thankful for at home.) 

Caught an Uber home, with just enough time to rest, change clothes, & meet Linda to catch another Uber to our dinner place, Crazy Kim’s Korean. We got seated by Kim herself at a table in the entry way, & placed our orders. This restaurant was one they hadn’t been to before, but our coming to visit gave them an opportunity. Food was decent & there were 15 appetizer bites brought to our table (no choice in the matter) & it was fun to try different things. For our main dishes, I got bulgogi & theBean got Korean short-ribs.

But the highlight of the night, for me, was the 2 women who came in shortly after us. One of them HAD to be the owner’s daughter & the other seemed to be a beloved best friend, because Kim doted on the super fancy & chic ladies, dressed in what were probably pretty fashionable (definition: super weird clothes that real people don’t wear) all the while snapping photos of themselves, each other, & the little pocket sized dog the daughter brought in in her purse. If you’ve ever seen wanna-be IG ‘influencers’ in action, you have an idea of our entertainment for the duration of dinner. They helped themselves to all sorts of things behind the bar, often leaving their table to walk around the building, often retreating into the “private” & “Staff only”, only to emerge later & hit the bar again. So. Funny.

Finished dinner & made our way to our Uber outside. The drive home only took 5 minutes, so we had to be close, but it was raining & we’d already walked about 8 miles earlier in the day. As it was our last night, we made our way up to Alex & Linda’s flat again, & sat around their table trying to pack as many conversations as possible into the time we had left. So precious. 

We sadly made our way back to our flat to sleep the short night’s sleep that comes before the departure flight home. We’d made plans to come to their flat in the morning for a cup of coffee & hugs goodbye, so we knew we’d get to see them at least one more time before we left. 

Slept well, with dreams of home in our minds.

On the way…

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A big chunk of life happens “on the way.” Our on the way time could be when we’re driving to/from work. Walking our neighborhood or heading to our next appointment. Waiting in line while getting a coffee.  I believe much of our on the way time flies under our radar because our focus/our thoughts are on something else. Stuff like: 

What’s next. Where we’re headed. What we’ll do when we’re done with work. Our destination. What has to be done at the destination. Our ‘to-do’ lists. Afternoon snacks. 

I find that my on the way time is often “multi-tasking” time where I pop in my earbuds to listen to the audio book I want to read, or the podcast I’ve been meaning to catch up on, or zoning out to a favorite playlist. It can be a great way to get stuff done, but with these on the way time fillers, I don’t often take time to sit in silence & think or observe closely what’s going on around me.

You get it.

I was thinking on that this afternoon while I was sitting in the sauna… not much to do in the sauna except for sweat & drink my LMNT-filled Nalgene bottle while waiting for the timer to wind down to zero. One of the things that came up for me was something I read in Acts 3 .

Peter & John were on the way to their church for the 3 p.m. prayers & ended up having a conversation  with a guy who had been lame from birth, that turned into a Holy Spirit inspired healing & life transformation, that turned into a “What’s going on here?” moment that caused a couple of thousand people to have an encounter with Jesus Christ.  

Really cool stuff. And it made me think, & it made me wonder about my own usage of my on the way time.

Ultimately, the nudge I’m following here is to write out my desire to be more alert, aware, intentional, & present while I’m on the way. To take stock of where I am; to purposely build a little time into my schedule for on-purpose Holy Spirit interruptions to my day; to not immediately pop the ear buds in as soon as I sit in the drivers seat… or head into some other version of being on the way.

We’ll see what happens…

 

 

 

 

ZAPPED! & other musings on a Tuesday evening…

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Several times over the last few weeks, I feel like I’ve had the same conversation. It starts with someone bringing up something about God. Church. Religion. And each time, the person has said something to the effect of:

“I would NEVER, EVER even think of going to church… if I did, as soon as I walked through the doors I’d probably:

  • get ZAPPED by lightning
  • burst into flames
  • cause the building to fall down around me
  • experience something crushing, cruel, & horrible…”

The first couple of times I heard it, I was in Germany; once in downtown Frankfurt, once at the youth hostel where we were having the pastors’ conference. I attributed it to the general state of unchurched-ness of The Fatherland. Silly me.

And then in the last 10 days, I’ve had similar conversations here at home, at Starbucks, the new & improved Great Basin Brewery, & even in the parking lot at church. All people bemoaning the probable (& most certainly horrible) outcome of their crossing the threshold of the church building.

In a couple of the situations, I had the opportunity to pursue some clarification – here’s a ‘sum-up’ of what the people I talked to thought…

  • most had funky ideas about God & His character.
  • A couple thought that somehow, someway Fred & the family Phelps are accurate representations of God’s heart for people.
  • Most expect church to be a place of  self-righteous nitpicking, & an endless barrage never-measure-up condemnation & accusations.
  • A common thought was seeing self as Excluded. Beyond help or rescue.
  • Not seeing how they in their uniqueness could or would fit in a ‘church world’ that is perceived as mostly irrelevant to ‘real’ life.

I don’t know whose quote it is, or how bad I’m mangling it, but  it goes something like this:

You may be the only church a person goes to, & may be the only Bible someone reads.

For me, it speaks to the need to live in a way that accurately & faithfully reflects Christ’s love, acceptance, & forgiveness – & a love that meets people right where they are. And it reminds me a bit of a post my friend Tim wrote not long ago about getting the church to people.

TheWeez is on her middle school basketball team; I love going to her games. The last several, her playing time has been next to nil, & she’s discouraged. More than that, she’s frustrated with what her coach says to her (& the 2 other girls in similar spots:)

“I’m really sorry I didn’t play you; but we needed our good players in the game so we could win big, ’cause I really don’t like the Coach from (insert school name here). Next time I’ll try to get you in the game more”

My theWeez is a smart girl – & after this happened the 2nd time (its been 4 games & counting by now,) she vented to me, saying, “Daddy! Does he think I’m DUMB? That I don’t know that when he’s ‘apologizing’ for not playing me he’s really saying I’m not a good PLAYER.”

I’d love to be able to soften the blow to my precious theWeez, to somehow make this situation better… but I can’t. She’s getting a chance to experience, up close & personal, that just because someone is an adult in their 30s, there is no guarantee that they’ve ever really grown up.

I’m sorry my girl.

Oh, & Coach N, theWeez is on to you. And she is not amused.

December, where are you GOING in such a hurry? Stop, sit a spell, & hang out a while.

I’m reading, slowly, through a great book right now by Dallas Willard called, The Spirit of the Disciplines . I know for some that the word ‘discipline’ has negative connotations; I love how Willard works through & around the twistings & perversions of the good word ‘discipline,’ which comes from the root word disciple. In it, he discusses the actions, behaviors, attitudes, & practices that go towards spiritual formation, which to me is something like the nuts & bolts of what it takes to grow up in Christ. I’m already thinking how I can take what I’m learning & apply it, both personally (in my life,) & corporately (within our church family.)

iDoey is in the final week of preparation for his Christmas holiday extravaganza – a song & dance-fest put on by his show-choir-type group called Intermezzo. I’m amazed at the preparation this group of 40 students puts in, & am thankful for the dedicated coordinator & the staff that makes this so much fun for my boy. Thanks Mr. Lorentzen!

Ahh. Pondering greatness: The San Francisco Giants are STILL the World Series Champions.