Habakkuk & some thoughts on ‘How Longs’ & ‘Whys’

Habakkuk 1:1-4

The oracle that Habakkuk the prophet saw – O LORD how long shall I cry for help, & You will not hear? Or cry to You “violence’ & You will not save? Why do you make me see iniquity & why do You look idly at wrong? Destruction & violence are before me; strife & contention arise. So the law is paralyzed, & justice never goes forth. For the wicked surround the righteous, so justice goes forth perverted.

It’s the ‘How Longs” that get me. They stand out as a disappointed cry, laments even, bordering on indignant anger. Habakkuk sees injustice, wrong, violence, wickedness all around him, & he’s been crying out to the LORD for help with no visible or audible response.

The WHY’s also get me; why do You idly look at wrong? As though Habakkuk incredulous at what he is seeing… wondering how the LORD God he knows could NOT be acting on behalf of him & his people Israel considering what’s happening to & with them.

Part of the how & why this is at the forefront of my thoughts likely is the book I’m sloooowly reading through, Disappointment with God. Lately, I feel especially sensitized to the laments, sighs, suffering & disappointments in the world around me.

Its kinda like when you get a new car, say a white Ford Explorer. Then, it seems that everywhere you go, you see these white Explorers all over the place & wonder how you never saw them before.

I recognize in my own heart quiet echoes of these ‘How Longs’ & ‘Whys…’ & I wonder if the reason that I don’t stop coming back to God with prayer & expectancy, & I don’t blame Him for my issues & problems, &/or the tragedies around me is because of what I had to learn through my own ‘dark times of the soul,’ like when my brother Johnny had cancer & ultimately died.

In his last day, I vividly remember visiting Johnny downstairs at my parents – seeing the very obviously approaching death in his declining body. It was overwhelming, so I went upstairs & ran outside into what I think was early evening…

Remember standing facing the Alpers’ house & the familiar West Carson horizon… & looking to the twilight sky – praying, crying, asking, pleading in desperation for God to heal my brother, to take away this cancer, to restore his health that he would live.

It was a surreal experience that I think, I know changed me… I still remember the sense I got at that moment of God’s Presence. It may have been just my impression, but I also sensed a sadness greater than me. I wondered if it was Him, & He was sad. I thought so. And while I wanted more than anything that God would heal Johnny, I also felt comforted, & at peace.

The circumstance hadn’t changed. Johnny died. But God stood with me, & I knew it. He was WITH me, & I was aware.

Made me thinks that the nearness of God isn’t always tangible, but it is a fact. He will never leave me or forsake me.


And then Habakkuk gets an answer – the LORD will respond. Is responding. Has responded.

There will be vengeance; there will be chastisement. Intervention. There will be a revelation of His Presence so strong that ‘the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the LORD just like the waters cover the sea’

And Habakkuk praises – gives thanks – asks for mercy.


LORD, I pray for mercy… & I thank You for never abandoning me, for Your Presence, & for Your nearness. Work in me the things You want to see be true of me – thank You for Your patience with me & my questions, for not getting angry at the How Longs or the Why’s. That You love me through it by standing with me. Help my unbelief, fill me with faith.

Bread, signs, baseball, & family time…

This morning I was reading in the Gospel of John as a part of the SOAP devotional reading plan

I was in John 6 (NOTE: for those of you also on the SOAP plan, I do realize that John 6 wasn’t scheduled to be read until Wednesday, but I couldn’t help myself & read ahead.) The context: Jesus has just had a lengthy interchange with the Jews of Judea over His healing of a man at the pool of Bethesda on the Sabbath day; an action that they believed to be in violation of the 4th commandment (Chapter 5.) Chapter 6 tells of Jesus’ miraculous feeding of the 5000… & the subsequent response by the people who heard what He’d done. Crowds began to follow Him everywhere… but it wasn’t because of what He was saying, teaching, & testifying about. Here’s what jumped out at me:

Jesus said, “Truly, truly, I say to you, you seek Me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate of the loaves & were filled. Do not work for the food which perishes, but for the food which endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give to you, for on Him the Father, God, has set His seal.”

Then they said to Him, “What must we do, to be doing the works of God?” Jesus answered them, “This is the work of God, that you believe in Him whom He has sent.” So they said to Him, ‘Then what sign do you do, that we may see & believe You? What work do You perform? Our fathers ate manna in the wilderness; as it is written, ‘He gave them bread from heaven to eat.’ Jesus then said to them, Truly, truly I say to you, it was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but my Father gives you the true bread from heaven. For the Bread of God is He who comes down from heaven & gives life to the world.” They said to Him, Sir, give us this bread always.”

Several things stand out:
• People will go a long way for free bread
• They want to know what the ‘works of God’ are
• Jesus challenges them to believe in Him – & that this is the work that God wants from them.
• They ask for a sign to prove Jesus is the Christ – & this is after He’s healed the guy at Bethesda, & after He’s turned 2 fish & 5 loaves of bread into a meal for a multitude.

What are they really looking for? Another sign? Something sensational?

Takes me back to the Yancey Book I’m currently reading, & the discussions with Chum about signs & wonders. Signs (which point to something, someone, or somewhere) aren’t the point – they’re just signs, they’re not the destination. Those that didn’t believe, wouldn’t believe even when confronted, repeatedly, with the miraculous. They just asked for more signs.

Signs don’t bring about belief. Devotion. Love. They point.

Chewing on this.


Sat with the family last night for a Family meeting, our 1st one since we got the band back together last Friday. Pasty’s been in Tennessee visiting theGirl, & iDoey & theWeez have been at High-School camp. It was a ‘meaning of life’ discussion, with lots of laughter, tears, & soul-baring. Makes me want to be a better man. Husband. Father.


Watched The Village last night with the fam… a couple members of the fam have shied away from this one in the belief that it was a scary movie… to me, this is 1st & foremost a love story (just like the X-Files is a love story… but I digress.)

After watching it, all members of the fam agreed (albeit reluctantly,) that the movie really is a love story, (though theBean threw in the caveat, “Its is a really great love story, but it sucks because they use fear & lies to keep the people in a world of farce.) Booyah!


And iDoey watched The Natural. I was able to catch the last 40 minutes with him. Man. Every time I watch the ending, I’m reminded of the beauty & perfection of the game of baseball.

Makes me want to watch the whole thing a couple of times, followed by Field of Dreams. And maybe The Sandlot.

Sigh.

SOAP, Isaiah, family, & other musings…

A few months ago, I felt impressed to amp up (increase, broaden, deepen, expand) my Bible reading. I started adding ‘reading breaks’ of a few minutes several times during the work day, times when I might normally be checking my email, or practicing my vuvuzela… & then followed up each reading with reflection. Thinking on what I’d read. Asking the Holy Spirit to apply it to my life. To seek out all the places in my heart, mind, & life that need a touch from Him. To transform mindsets, attitudes, & behaviors that subtly (or not so subtly) stand against, resist, or even oppose God’s purposes for me.

And I’m seeing LIFE. I’m getting woken up before 5, no alarm necessary. Waking up feeling rested & restored, excited to take on the day, looking forward to my reading & reflecting. Looking for opportunities to interact with others about the stuff that God is stirring up in me. Feeling a renewed love & hunger for the Word.


Reading through Isaiah 25 this morning – a prophetic passage talking about the end times. These chapters of Isaiah have a definite Revelation feel & sound to them, with familiar themes like the fall of the nations that have resisted/opposed God’s redemption; judgment; the fall of Babylon; perseverance; salvation.

A section of Chapter 25 really jumps out at me:

On this mountain the LORD of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wine, of rich food full of marrow, of aged wine well refined. And He will swallow up on this mountain the covering that is cast over all peoples, the veil that is spread over all nations. He will swallow up death forever; & the Lord GOD will wipe away tears from all faces, & the reproach of His people he will take away from all the earth, for the LORD has spoken. And it will be said on that day, “Behold, this is our God for whom we have waited; Let us rejoice & be glad in His salvation. Isaiah 25:6-9 ESV

Very cool – God throws a feast to celebrate, with the best meats & wines, specially chosen & prepared by Him! And the recognition that this is God’s favor, His salvation come to humanity, to those who waited for Him.

Reminds me of the passage in Isaiah 40 that talks about ‘waiting on the LORD’ – & that those that wait on the LORD will renew their strength… And that waiting isn’t passive inactivity (like sitting in the waiting room of a doctor’s office.) No, its consistent, active obedience to the things I know to be doing. The confident expectation that God is at work, will be at work, & is acting on my behalf. Sweet.


Pasty has been in Cookeville, Tennessee with Alex & her family since 7/1. Kind of a senior trip, complete with a houseboat trip & a Florida vacation – before he comes back & starts college in the fall. He’ll be back 7/26. And I miss him this morning.

TheWeez is at Middle School Camp in Sonora, meaning theBean & I are down to 1 kid – IDoey. He’s got summer weights & football every day, so life for him revolves around sleeping, playing, & eating whatever he can get his hands on.

Last night before bed, he came to tell us goodnight. He grabbed both theBean & I & said, “Family hug!” He looked at both of us while he hugged us & exclaimed, “Isn’t this great!?”

I’m pretty sure IDoey enjoys the life of an only child.


For some reason I was thinking yesterday about the Christmas song “Away In A Manger”… there’s a part of the song that says:

the cattle are lowing/the baby He wakes/but little Lord Jesus/no crying He makes

That never made any sense to me – the cows are making a bunch of noise & wake up the baby… but the baby doesn’t cry. Of COURSE the baby cries. That’s what babies do when they get woken up, especially by cows.

I think we like the idea of a baby that isn’t like other babies; one that doesn’t cry when woken up suddenly… in the same way we like the idea of Jesus being a man that wasn’t like other men – who wasn’t subject to the same feelings, thoughts, temptations & frailties that we are, yet who persevered through them to be obedient to the call on His life to be Redeemer & Saviour to the world.

I think we’re uncomfortable with Jesus’ humanity.


NEWSFLASH! U2 has published the dates for their rescheduled North American tour. June 7, 2011. Oakland.

Magnificent!

Man Night, home, & other musings…

Sitting in the coolness of my office with a fan blowing on me drinking an iced-coffee. All to try to avoid the heat of the day, the heat that has been turned up to “11.” Thinking over the soon-to-be-happenings of Man Night. Proverbs 27, especially verse 17.

As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens the countenance of another

Got me thinking about the ‘act’ of sharpening… & how in order for a tool (like an axe, a knife, or a sword – c’mon, it’s Man Night, so I’m thinking of wielding Manly tools) to be sharpened, one has to strike the item to be sharpened, skillfully, in just the right places with an item or implement that is stronger & harder than the item to be sharpened.

So how does ‘iron sharpen iron?’ One way for this to work is for the ‘sharpening iron’ to have been tempered – or put through a process of controlled reheating to harden & strengthen the implement. Interesting….

I wonder how this ‘tempering’ translates to people, to me. What does the heating process do? I don’t think of getting heated to red-hotness being something that is desirable.

But the process makes the forever-changed implement useful. To shape other implements. Hmm.


Regret raises her head occasionally, usually at times where I’m most pensive & introspective. Kinda like when I’m doing the deep cleaning of a room at home… opening up ALL the drawers, going through the corners of the closets, making sure the lights are on in order to see just what is in there… & then I discover a Mess. A big Mess that I distinctly remember thinking that I’d eventually get around to cleaning up. A big Mess that was forgotten, due to the forgetfulness caused by falling into routine busyness. A big Mess that begs to be addressed. But it’s such a big Mess. The only way to deal with the Mess is to put on the special gloves & head into it. A little bit at a time.

Even if it hurts.


Home is ultimately not about a place to live but about the people with whom you are most fully alive. Home is about love, relationship, community, and belonging, and we are all searching for home. Erwin Raphael McManus – Soul Cravings – Entry 8

That resonates with me – I think its because when I think about home, I don’t think about a place. Granted, I live in Sparks, Nevada, & have been a resident of Northern Nevada within 35 miles of my current home, all of my life. But instead of Sparks, I think of people. Faces flash through my minds eye. People that are intimately associated with being ‘home.’ Home is people, & being in a place without those people would be unbearable. No matter how ‘cool,’ elegant, spacious, or desirable that place is.

I see that I have changed. I’m changing.. Will continue to change. At one point in the not so distant past, home was being in my Cave. The place where I could be by myself & get lost in a book, a TV show, or a good movie. Alone. Where I didn’t have to be WITH people. Looking back, I can see times where even in the presence of people I’d try to be apart from them, to be by myself, to isolate & withdraw in the name of my (very real,) introversion. I regret that. The lost opportunities to discover “home” with others. With myself. Where I’d been so focused on my own discomfort that often comes being around people that I missed the joy & wonder of being WITH people.

A hard thought: in not being WITH people, I missed out on things that God wanted to do in & around me THROUGH people.

I don’t want to ‘miss’ God & ‘miss’ others in the name of a misguided self-sufficiency. Fear has stolen enough from me: fear of rejection. Inadequacy. Pain. Being unloved & unlovable. Of making a mess. Saying the wrong thing. Saying nothing. (like the lyrics from REM’s “Losing My Religion” “oh no, I’ve said too much; I haven’t said enough…” ) How many things, friendships, experiences I missed out on because of fear. Knowing that if I couldn’t do it perfect, I wouldn’t try it at all.

Heavy sigh.


So I’m thankful for the process & act of redemption. That as long as its still called today, its never too late for things lost to be regained, restored, healed, & transformed.

20 years ago… an anniversary…

I woke up this morning a few minutes before my alarm… not surprising… except for the fact that the alarm was set for 4:50 so I could have enough time to get to to the church office to make coffee & read a little in advance of the guys showing up for Thursday morning prayer. The blurred numbers on the clock came into focus as I clumsily fixed my glasses onto my face… 4:34. It would be 4:34 today. Sigh.

My mind raced, mentally flipping through the calendar that exists in my head (isn’t there one in yours too?) finally coming to rest on today. Yesterday was June 16th, so that would make today… June 17. Hmm. It’s the 20th anniversary of the day my little brother, John Leavy Locke, went to be with Jesus early on a Sunday morning, Father’s Day, at 4:34 a.m.

I wrote a little bit about my brother not too long ago HERE. And as I sit here pondering the fact that its been 20 whole years since his death & ‘home-going,’ I take the time to revisit & rehearse the memories I hold most dear of my brother. They flicker through my brain like the rapidly turning pages of a picture book.

Folding newspapers together in the early morning as we prepared to go do our paper routes. Football. Soccer. Baseball. Hoops. What an athlete. He was the best of the 4 of us, by far. Rocking the mullet that shook Carson City on Day 1 of his tenure at Carson Middle School. I don’t know if it was the surf shorts, Jetson’s T-shirt, vintage Air Jordan’s or the infamous mullet that got him called to the office as a “distraction.” They hadn’t seen anyone like him before. His mix tapes. The rosy cheeks I see every time I look at thePasty Gangster. The smile. The temper. The baseball being thrown at me simply because I went in to wake him up. The grumpy comments because I was on the phone (again) too late with theBean. And a million others…


The picture at the left was his last school picture before he was diagnosed with non-Hodgkins lymphoma. And yes, he was wearing MY red bow tie, the same one I’d used to complete my Pee-Wee Herman outfit… It’s not like this day is a dark, morbid day that I dress up in black & mope around. Not at all. Rather, its a day of remembrance. Prayer for my parents & brothers. Thanking God that we don’t grieve as those who have no hope. But a day where I still grieve. Laugh. Play his favorite songs on my mp3 player (he’d have loved the iPod & iTunes, & the ease at which mixes could be created. He was a Master mix-master.)


Father’s Day has been forever linked with Johnny since 6/17/1990. Can’t seem to think of one without the other; not that I want to think about death an inordinate amount, but hey, its inevitable, barring the preemptive Return of the King. Came across a great book about death, heaven, & processing the loss of loved ones called Everybody Wants to Go to Heaven, But Nobody Wants to Die. Great book, which I’d heartily recommend.

But I digress.


It’s a celebration, a day of remembrance. So join me:

Here’s to Johnny – & the profound influence he has had & continues to have on me & the man I hope to be.

Graduation weekend & other musings…

This last weekend was one of those where we found ourselves running… starting with Thursday evening. The Pasty Gangster was set to graduate on Saturday, & theBean & I wanted to host a graduation celebration. Being in Atlanta for the 4SQ convention the entire previous week didn’t help with our preparations for the graduation… getting the house & yard together, ready so that it would be clean enough & organized enough to host some family & friends.

So Friday was a blur of activity. Took theGiant table upstairs, & then tackled the floors. Vacuumed the tile (so as not to stir up a bunch of dust,) then mopped it. Twice. Using Fabuloso, which, I might add, is one of the best smelling cleaning products in the world. Not that I am a regular sniffer of cleaning products… which would be weird. And potentially damaging to the currently functioning brain cells. But it is wonderful. And purple, which is definitely a plus.


The business of the preparation for the graduation & the after-grad-party made it easier to distract myself from the very real & very powerful emotions that rose & fell in my chest like the incoming ocean tide.

Now, I don’t have any illusions about thePasty being my ‘baby.’ Just my firstborn. Now 18 years old. With 18 years of random memories & life lived that kept flashing back & forth in & through my mind & heart. A few of them…

Holding him in my arms while he slept, not wanting to put him down because I couldn’t believe I had my own kid. The ever-present ball he’d have in his hand, depending on the season. His infatuation with the music of Steven Curtis Chapman. How he watched the “Front Row: Steven Curtis Chapman” Video over & over & over, singing along to all the songs, & even memorizing the banter Steven Curtis Chapman exchanged with his bass player. The binky dance. The worry we had over his eye issues & inability to see… & the day he got glasses. The day he got contacts. The washing of the hands & refusal to open doors with anything other than his elbows. The joy exuding from him every time he participated in a team sport. He’s always been the heart & soul of the teams he’s on… His humor. Determination. Strong will. Compassionate heart. The rediscovery of a love for music. And a girl named Alex…

I stopped & pondered… allowed the rush of images, feelings, thoughts, & memories to flood my brain. I wept. Laughed. And resumed cleaning.

Saturday, the time for graduation came. We found our way through the frantic-ness of Lawlor Events Center, stumbled up the aisles to the balcony seats, & watched the ceremony. Our boy’s name was called; he shook the principal’s hand, went to the top of the steps of the stage & raised his arms in the air & let out a “Whoo!”

It was the same kind of “Whoo!” that we’d grown used to hearing from the football field during the pregame when the team would storm the sideline & jump around, bouncing into each other. I realized the comfort that I’d taken in hearing Pasty’s exuberant yells. And I smiled. And yelled my own “Whoo!”


The recent passing of basketball coaching legend John Wooden, had a profound impact on me… not because of the incredible coaching records that he amassed during his tenure at UCLA, but rather for the way he influenced & affected the people he came in contact with during the 99 years of his life: those that played for him, those he coached with & against, & those in the ever-widening sphere of influence that grew without any intention or design of his own… due to his character, integrity, insights, wisdom, & devotion to his wife, Nell. His “Wooden-isms” go far beyond pithy quotations that would adorn bumper stickers.


My mom sent me this picture, taken at Pasty’s graduation party last Saturday. It’s of Pasty, my dad, me & my brothers Moe & Ben… I’m trying to remember what I was thinking at the exact moment the picture was taken, what was running through my head that is so obvious in the expression on my face… Sigh.

musings on a Wednesday…that’s actually Tuesday…

I thought that my jet-lag was 100% conquered only to be reminded several times that while my brain is mostly back, I still functioned for a good portion of the day thinking that it was Wednesday. Sigh.


Since I got back last Monday, the weather has been… unpredictable. Snow. Rain. Sun. Wind. Ahh. Nevada. My home.

On that note, the more I travel & see the parts of the world I get to see, the more I appreciate home. Reno. This area. I know its not green, & the weather is crazy. But it’s home. I like (usually) the “you-never-know” weather. The warm days & cool nights. The valley. The mountains nearby. And even the expanse of desert to the east.


Yesterday, our Ford Expedition went on to its great reward. More specifically, to Reno Auto Wreckers. It was totalled in the crash of 2010, a casualty of a snowy day crash where it was tragically t-boned by a BMW SUV. Ahh. We’ve had a good run with the Ex, & seeing her unloaded into the lot was a bit emotional. Silly me. Just a car, right? Nope. It was OUR car. TheBean’s first Big Car. Trips to Disneyland in that car. Carrying kids & their friends all over. To camp & back, again & again.


Got to catch up with Brintus today at Uncle Vinny’s Pizza for the all-one-can-eat-pizza & salad buffet. Every time I go, I am surprised at how good it is. Yay Uncle Vinny.


And theBean bought me new socks. My old new socks developed holes in only 6 weeks. Sigh. Hope these socks last a while. I have a new pair on Right Now. They make me fast. Feel nice on my toes & heels, like they’re not even there, as socks should, in the world of scoey that is.


One of the highlights of coming home to my Home is seeing what theBean has done to the house. Its kind of a tradition – I leave & she moves stuff. Paints. Reorganizes. Changes things around. Makes something extra special & beautiful. I love it. At least as much as someone who doesn’t really LOVE change can love the changes. It used to bug me a bit, & I’d wonder WHY she had to MOVE stuff. Now, every time I see something new, I think of her investing herself in us, making things great. And I can smile at that.


Lately, every time I read my Bible, I see the instruction to BE thankful. GIVE thanks. PRACTICE thanksgiving. And I think its because its not normal. Thankfulness doesn’t flow from the mouth & life of a human; it has to be cultivated & stirred up. Intentioned. Every day. Its a re-training of the critical eye, retooling & re-orienting it to be a ‘thankful’ eye. Looking for & responding to the goodness of God revealed all around us.

Plus, the alternative is complaining, grumbling, self-focused whining, & the like. And who wants to listen to that.


We’re off for a date with some friends… to share a little vino & some snacks. Can’t wait.

a book response, & the start of a great week… or Deutschland Travels, Spring 2010 Day 2, part 2

On the plane over, I started reading Donald Miller’s latest, “A Million Miles in a Thousand Years.” It’s written in classic “Miller-style” as a series of seemingly unrelated essays, thoughts, & musings, that are all somehow, someway connected to each other in such a way as to cause a deep & probing introspection & evaluation of self, life, & priorities.

What’s it about, you ask? It’s about Story.

Using the context of a movie being made based upon his life, Miller explores the elements of a good story… which ultimately is really about the elements of living a good story, one worth reading. A story of life means deep & meaningful relationships, hope & loss, joy & pain, risk & stretching for the difficult, unique, & hard to obtain.

Makes me examine the story I’m writing with my own life; where I’ve settled for the comfortable instead of pushing through difficulties, hardship, pain, & inadequacy.

Reminds me that most of my life’s most rewarding & blessed moments are directly tied in to relationships – people who know me & are known in return; who’ve seen me up close & personal, in my strengths, weaknesses & frailties… & who love me anyway.

I ponder life looking through the wrong end of the binoculars… a glimpse, a backwards view, from the end towards the beginning, through the years, wanting, hoping, praying that the Most Important things in life would actually have been the main elements of my story. That I didn’t get lost on a rabbit trail, a selfish pursuit that had no lasting value or contribution to the Story.

Faces swim in front of my eyes. People, each valuable & precious, representing the interconnected & intertwined lives that touch my Story. Now it’s my eyes that are swimming.

I’d recommend the book. And even more, to re-evaluate the Story we’re living with the only life we have.


Headed to Mainz in about 2 hours to spend time with Jan & the enChristo Foursquare church. We’re having a BBQ & then talking about what it means to be Foursquare…

The Foursquare churches here in Germany have been going by the name FreiEvangelischeGemeindeWerk (FEGW, which, loosely translated means Free Evangelical Fellowship) – just last week, they have officially decided to change their name to Foursquare Deutschland… & part of what I’m here to do over the next week in a few churches is help bring a deeper connection to the Foursquare US church, but also to the heart & values of Foursquare.

Thankful…

Yesterday, there was an 8.8 magnitude earthquake in Chile. A short while after the quake, theBean & I received notice that, as a result of the quake, tsunamis were expected to be hitting various areas of the South Pacific, including Hawaii. Where our 13 year-old theWeez is on vacation with some of her best friends… There were several concerned phone calls we & she received, foretelling doom & gloom. And here we are, in Sparks, Nevada, unable to get through on the phone, let alone do anything to protect our girl.

Being several thousand miles away has its benefits. We prayed. Reminded ourselves that we dedicated Weez to the LORD when she was a baby. That He is our fortress. Our Rock. Our protector. And waited. Watching CNN, wondering what would happen.

Turns out, nothing did. Got a few calls through to theWeez. Talked. Prayed together. Laughed about her times in the sun. She made the Mendive volleyball team.

Whew.


Got a call from Pasty at 8:30 this a.m. Words a dad never wants to hear. “There’s been an accident.”

Heart in throat. Cell cutting out. Expedition totaled. Ice. T-boned by another car. Mt. Rose Highway. And nothing.

Thinking back to yesterday. Breathe. Breathe. Call cell. Nothing. Text. Waiting. Praying. Reflecting on my Rock. Fortress. Protector.

Call cell. Brief connection. We’re ok. Some headaches. Paramedics are here. Cutting out again. Breathe. Breathe. Pray. Peace.

Text from iDoey. Everyone is mostly ok. Some pains. A couple in the car going to get checked out at the hospital, just in case. Cutting out again. Breathe. Breathe. Wait.


Times like this remind me that this is where my faith has opportunity to grow. To be put into practice. Times that are easy, where everything alls as it should be aren’t stretching. Times where there’s unknown. Temptation to fear. Worry. Panic. Confronted with faith. And the choice to believe that the LORD is in control, in the middle of my unknown.

Breathe. Breathe. Peace.


Everyone checked out ok – bumps & bruises. Soreness & a headache or two. The car is a mess, but its only a car.

God is good. And we’re thankful.

family, the 80’s, the collision of 2 worlds, & other musings on a Friday…

Today on the way to school, theWeez started asking me questions about the “old days” – you know, the 80’s. Turns out she saw a Journey video, & was intrigued by their hairstyles… namely the flowing & often frizzy pseudo-mullets sported by the band.

She said, “So, Dad. Tell me. The hair. Was that cool? I mean for REALS.

I had to say, ‘Yes. Yes it was. Or at least it was perceived to be cool by the people sporting said hair.” TheWeez thought that was pretty funny, & remarked at how lame Those People were, & had absolutely NO sense of style &/or what looked good or was appropriate.

Indignation rose up in me in response to her laughter – time to turn the tables: “So, Weez. Is there anything – any fashion, hair style, clothes, music etc. that you think MIGHT be just as silly to your kids as the stuff from MY generation is to you?” She pondered it a second, & replied, “Nope.”

20 years from now, I will revisit this conversation with her. And tell stories on her to my grandkids. Booyah.


Speaking of the 80’s, style, & my music, world’s collided today, namely mine & theWeez’s when I discovered a collaboration, an intentional one at that, between Def Leppard (aka MY Music) & Taylor Swift. There’s even a concert DVD available. Watch it at your own risk. And don’t complain that I didn’t warn you. All I can say is, “Oh, goodness.”


Had to go buy some large storage bins yesterday to put the church pastries into… normally, I’d have just gone into a Local Superstore to find such things, however, theBean knows about these kind of things better than me, better than me. So she sent me to RESCO. Lots of restaurant-style equipment, stainless steel, industrial. Cool. I almost enjoyed it, especially thinking how I could put a monstrously ginormous stainless steel fridge in my kitchen. Somewhere. And then the silence surrounding my dreaming about the Industrial-ness was shattered by Bob.

Bob was loud. Like using his outdoor playtime voice loud. Like standing way too close to be talking this loud. Like, ‘Dude? What’s up with THAT!’ loud.

He proceeded to tell me he was there to take my money. Ha-ha. No, really, he said that. I didn’t laugh. Which wasn’t good for Bob, evidently, because he then told me that I needed to smile more. Really? I’m buying tupperware, you’re loud, & I need to smile more?

I paid & made my way to the car, my irritated nerves soothed by the cool breeze, blue skies, & a glimpse or 7 of the sun.

Again. Oh, goodness…


Which of course got me thinking on Philippians 2 today, especially the part about doing everything without complaining, arguing, contention, & bad attitudes…



Learned something new today – 1 tear does NOT equal crying.


Pasty & I are off to the gym & then Guitar Center today. Because we’ve been reaaaaalllllyyyy good boys. Not going to buy anything, but Boy Howdy! we can pretend.


My iDoey is now officially able to look me directly in the eyes. Sigh. Another big kid.