Mental Lint

Historical Studies Tour - Day 9 and Wrap-up

2010-05-16T08:34:00.000-07:00

Our last day of the trip was a very long one, including about 7 hours on planes, and not all of that in the air.We had an early wakeup call, about 5:45. After the great hotel in Maryland, the one we were at in Gettysburg was a bit of a letdown, but at least we slept well.

Breakfast was at The Dobbin House, a house built in 1776 and used as a school of the classics for many years. At one point, it was a stop on the Underground Railroad. It's been restored and works as a museum as well as restaurant.

We went back to the Battlefield Museum and picked up a tour guide to take us around the battlefield. His name was Paul, and he did a great job of bringing it all to life. We saw some of the cannons placed about where they were in 1863 on the last day of the battle.

The observation tower, in sight of President Dwight D. Eisenhower's farm, gives a great view of most of the area. Paul pointed out most of the monuments sponsored by the various states whose soldiers fought in the battle, as well as some of the statues of the various officers who were there. We stopped on Little Round Top for that view, where the 12th New York Regiment is memorialized in a small, castle-like tower. It's interesting how much

effort is going into preserving the battlefield area, including removing some trees that have grown up, and homes that have been built in the past 146 years.

Our time in Gettysburg was done, and we dropped off our tour guide and drove to Intercourse, PA (yes, the 8th graders got a lot of mileage out of that one!), in Lancaster County, known as Amish Country. Our lunch was at a great smorgasbord, and then we picked up our tour guide for the afternoon, an Amish Mennonite lady named Rachel Smucker. She was shunned from the Amish community when she and her husband were newly married, and now tells the story of the Amish people and their love for God and the land they're in.

As we drove to her family's farm, she pointed out various sights and points of interest, such as laundry hanging up high, to give milk trucks better access to the milking barns; the bicycle-like scooters used by young people; and a fantastic view from one hillside, where her grandfather would tell her, "As long as we keep our love for Jesus in our hearts, this land will always be ours."At her family's farm, where her sister now lives, we saw the meeting room that would be used for church services, weddings, funerals, etc.

Then we walked over to the barn, and got to watch eighth grade city kids react to how smelly cows can be. I don't think very many of them ever thought about where milk comes from before, much less hamburgers.

And that was our last stop on the trip. From there, we dropped off Rachel, and headed for Baltimore International Airport for our flight to Denver, then San Francisco. Despite a nearly hour-long wait on the tarmac in Baltimore, and a tight connection in Denver, the flights were smooth and easy. We picked up our bags, said good-bye to the teachers and other parents, the kids said a lot of "see-you-on-Monday," and we headed home. It was after midnight when we got home, which was after 3:00 Eastern time. We had been up for about 21 hours.

The trip was really great. We saw a lot of interesting things related to our country's history, and were challenged to think about how we, as Christians, can continue to hold up God's truth in a country that values Christian beliefs less and less every year. I, for one, don't think the U.S. is greater in God's eyes than any other country, or that we will lose our prominence in the world solely as a result of taking God off of our monuments. I do, however believe strongly that the founding fathers knew that faith, morality, reason, and intellectual honesty were (and still are) key elements of a working democracy. While they insisted on religious freedom for all, I don't think they could have conceived of any faith that did not embrace such things in ways similar to Christianity. They were not perfect people, nor are we, nor is our country perfect. I hope that the students on this trip at least got an idea that our country is worth fighting for, and our faith is one of the best ways we can fight for its continued strength.

Historical Studies Tour - Day 8

2010-05-13T18:42:00.000-07:00

I was about to write something about a light schedule today, but it's mostly because we had a two-hour bus ride from D.C. to Gettysburg. But I get ahead of myself.

Our first tour stop today was the American History Museum of the Smithsonian. It was definitely worth seeing! Even though I would have loved more time there (like most of the other museums), I did get to see all the high points:

• The C-3PO costume that Anthony Daniels wore in some of the "Star Wars" movies
• A phaser prop from the original "Star Trek" series
• Fonzie's jacket from "Happy Days"
• The ruby slippers from "The Wizard of Oz"
• Best of all, KERMIT!!!
I wish they had Mister Rogers' sweater on display there, but I couldn't find it anywhere.

After our time there, we had lunch at Union Station, then took a quick walk across the street to the Post Office, where there is a Postal Museum in the basement. A lot of that display talks about not only the history of the postal system in the U.S., but the various modes of transportation that has been used over the years. There is a statue of Benjamin Franklin, the "father of the U.S. Postal Service."

After that, our time in D.C. was done. As we left town, we went through Embassy Row, and past the National Cathedral, and then got on the freeway to go to Gettysburg, PA.

Our first stop here was the Gettysburg National Park Museum. It has a great display about the causes of the Civil War, the lead-up to the Battle of Gettysburg, details about the battle, and information about the aftermath. Then there is a 20-minute film about it, which is very well-produced. Finally, in the upper floors is the Gettysburg Cyclorama, a huge 360-degree painting of the climactic battle. It is presented with a soundtrack and lighting on various parts of the canvas to highlight the stages of the battle -- it's very dramatic. (We couldn't take pictures in there, so I don't have anything to post.)

After that, it was hotel, dinner, and, for the adults, dessert at the Dairy Queen next door. Tomorrow morning, our wake-up call is at 5:30, and we'll be off to breakfast at a historical site, then on to the battlefield, and later on in the day, Amish country. Then we'll be off to the Baltimore Airport to fly home.

Historical Studies Tour - Day 7

2010-05-12T19:21:00.001-07:00

Today was a much easier day, walking-wise. Only two foot tours, and no walking between sites!

Our first stop was The Pentagon -- suffice it to say I don't have pictures of that! We first viewed the 9/11 Memorial, just outside the site of the attack in 2001. It's a very beautiful area, with a cantilevered bench over a small moving pool for each victim, whether on the plane or in the building. I would love to visit it again in a few years, after the trees have had some time to mature.

Then we headed inside for the 45-minute basic tour of the building, where we saw some of the exhibits along the hallways, the inner courtyard, the memorial chapel and another exhibit honoring the 9/11 victims. We walked through some of the shopping areas, and heard about some of the remodelling that's been going on there since 2000. I'd have loved to see more, but I guess that's all you get on a "general public" tour, what with it being the headquarters for all of our military, and all!

We then went to the sites of the U.S. Air Force Memorial and the U.S. Marines Memorial. The USAF Memorial is much newer, having been dedicated in 2006. It's a beautiful structure, surrounded by stone monuments to the USAF and its predecessors, situated on a bluff overlooking the Pentagon and the Capitol Mall beyond that.

The USMC Memorial is commonly known as the Iwo Jima Memorial, because of the statue on top, but it references many of the key battles in which the Marine Corps have played a key role. The students had a bit of fun looking for the rumored "13'th hand" on the monument. Some were sure they saw it, others only saw 11. With six people depicted, I'm pretty sure both numbers are wrong!

We then drove back into D.C., and were going to see if we could get into the National Archives; on previous days, the lines were very long, and Mr. Pfister knew that we didn't have time to stand in one line just to get inside, and then another long line to get into the Rotunda, where the Declaration of Independence and U.S. Constitution are on display. Fortunately, as we came up to it, there was virtually no line, so we quickly got off the bus, and started in. We had a very short wait, and it was great to be able to see the documents there, after having been in Boston and Philadelphia, and talking about the events of the Revolutionary War and the founding of the U.S. We also got to view a 1297 copy of England's Magna Carta on display there. Again, no photograpy was allowed, so I only got pictures outside of the building. You'll have to go to the National Archives website to see more of what's there.

Our dinner was at a Golden Corral buffet. I had never heard of these, but they're pretty terrific! One of the adults in the group mentioned that when a Golden Corral comes to town, it essentially puts any Hometown Buffet in a world of hurt. The quality of food is fantastic -- and they have Sweet Tea!!!

Our original plan was to go from there to a Baltimore Orioles baseball game. However, as we got to the restaurant, the front edge of a thunderstorm came in. We checked the weather, and it looked like the game would be at least delayed, maybe cancelled. So we decided to come back to the hotel, where the kids played in the pool, and we all relaxed for a while.

Tomorrow, we go into D.C. again for part of the day, then head to Gettysburg, our last destination for this trip.

Historical Studies Tour - Day 6

2010-05-11T20:25:00.001-07:00

Okay, nevermind about yesterday being a long day. Today was a LOOOOOOOONG day. I'm told that we walked about 8 miles today. My feet think it was longer, and my ankles and knees agree.

Our morning (after breakfast and a bus ride) kicked off with a visit to the Washington Monument. If I have any criticism of it, it's that it's too slim on information about Mr. Washington himself. Other than that, it's pretty cool. We went up to the top and looked out all the windows at the city of Washington, D.C. I liked the panels that showed what each view looked like in the early

1900's, the mid-1900's and in 1999. Quite interesting to see the changes in the city. I could have spent a lot more time up there, but we could only keep the kids interested for so long!

On the way down, the windows in the elevator doors go from opaque to clear, so you can see many of the commemorative stones sent by each of the states. While the stones were neat, the windows changing was really cool too!

We then walked over to the World War II Memorial, just to the west on the Capitol Mall. Mr. Pfister pointed out the symbolic elements, such as the 4048 stars, the two wreaths on each state's pillars, and the like. It's a beautiful monument to see.

From there, we went to Union Station for lunch at the food court. The last time I was at Union Station, it had not yet been developed into a shopping center. I liked going into the Main Hall, to see the part of the building that really hasn't changed much. Mr. Pfister pointed out to me something that I had never known before: The statues of Roman soldiers overlooking the Main Hall were originally sculpted as partial nudes -- below the waist! They were given shields after their delivery, in order to give them some modesty!

From Union Station, we walked in the rain along First Street, and stopped as we went past the Supreme Court Building. It was interesting to be there just after the announcement of President Obama's nominee for the open seat on the Supreme Court. It gave Mr. Pfister a chance to mention some of the political dealings that go along with that.

Further south on First, we went into the Jefferson Building, housing part of the Library of Congress. I was excited to see that they have the Gutenberg Bible on display there! Pictures weren't allowed... but I didn't know that until after I had already done so!

OOPS! We looked at some of the statuary in the building, noting the symbolic meanings of the various characters depicted, and the quotes from various thinkers and leaders from U.S. History along some of the upper windows. We were able to go into the viewing gallery above the main reading room, as well -- but we couldn't take pictures there, either. This time, I knew I wasn't supposed to.

Then we went across First Street to start our tour of the U.S. Capitol Building. That was quite a production! They've got it down to a science, though, moving different groups through with amazing efficiency. The primary thing you see in the main tour is a LOT of statues. In the entrance area are not only the replica of the Liberty statue from the top of the dome, but several of the statues sent by the states to the Capitol. More of these statues are in the Crypt, which is beneath the Rotunda. Still more are in the Rotunda itself, including the newest one from California, of President Ronald Reagan. Then there is Statuary Hall, the original assembly hall of the House of Representatives, now used for formal functions. It is lined with many more statues, including one of Father Junipero Serra, the other statue from California.

After this part of the tour, we were able to go into the Visitor's Galleries of first the Senate and then the House of Representatives. While it was interesting to see each one, both were somewhat underwhelming. In the Senate, we just missed Senator John McCain talking about some legislation he is co-sponsoring, but he was still in the room, as was Senator Christopher J. Dodd. They were waiting for a Senator named Shelby to deliver his part of the presentation, and were then going to vote on it. We didn't have time to stay and see how that worked. Most of the time we were in there, we watched the four or five Senators in attendance chat amiably together, as McCain wandered around casually.

In the House chamber, they were on a recess, so the only ones in the room were about 20 congressional pages, talking amongst themselves. Mr. Pfister talked to us about some of the details and features of the room.

In neither hall were we allowed to bring cameras or phones. We went through security three different times: once to get into the building, another to go into the Senate, and a third time to go into the House. One wonders why they can't just clear you when you go into the building, and be done with it!

In all, we were inside the Capitol building for about two hours, enough to miss the worst of the rain that was falling.

The next stop on our tour was probably one of the most anticipated one for the kids. We went to Arlington National Cemetery, to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. We saw the changing of the guard, and then four of our kids participated in a wreath-laying ceremony. It was very moving to see the precision and intensity of the guards in all of their duties, and to know that they work very hard on that detail, all to honor those who have lost their lives, but died unknown.

We also walked a bit more to see the monuments to those who died in the Challenger and Columbia Space Shuttle accidents, and then down to the JFK burial site, to see the "eternal flame," as well as the graves of JFK, Jackie Kennedy, their two children who died as infants, and then the graves of Robert and Ted Kennedy, as well.

The the rest of the evening was simply dinner at the Pentagon City Mall, and then back here to the hotel. It was a very busy, very long day, and my feet are tired.

And there just might be photographic evidence somewhere of me wearing a tie at Arlington Cemetery. I'll leave that for the reader to discover -- and determine if it's a clever Photoshop job or not.

Historical Studies Tour - Day 5

2010-05-10T20:38:00.000-07:00

Hoo-boy, what a long day.

Our first stop this morning was to see the White House. We walked to the north side, and took pictures by the fence, and walked over to see the statue of Stonewall Jackson in Lafayette Square. We saw some of the guards on the roof of the White House, which some were calling snipers. The truth is, whatever snipers were in place are never going to be visible!

Next on the agenda was the FDR Memorial. It's one of the more artistic ones, all completely open-air, with four outdoor "rooms" depicting each of his four terms of office, and quotations from FDR on the walls. I think the most memorable part was entering the third "room," depicting his third term, which was largely concerned with the years of World War II. So far in the memorial, you have seen large granite stones making up the walls, smooth and even, with his words engraved on them. As you enter this room, there is a jumble of broken stones of the same type to your left, and to your right a large fountain pouring through more broken and disarrayed stones. His quote about having seen what war does to people is on one wall, and the words "I HATE WAR" are on the sides of two of the broken stones in the jumble. It's a very effective symbol.

We then went to the Korean War Veterans Memorial, which is one of the newer ones on the Capitol Mall. There are 19 stainless steel statues of American Soldiers in a triangular arrangement; the looks on their faces are tense. One side of the triangle is a finely-polished stone wall, which reflects these figures, giving you 38 soldiers -- the number referring to both the 38 months of the war and the 38th Parallel, which still divides North and South Korea from each other. Along the reflecting pool at the point of the triangle, the wall continues, and in it is etched the phrase, "Freedom is not free." It's a fitting tribute to those who served in the Korean War.

Then across the Capitol Mall to the Vietnam Veteran's Memorial -- "The Wall." John and I had a special mission here. The son of a wonderful couple at our church died in Vietnam, and we wanted to find his name. With the help of a quick lookup on the Memorial's website, we got the location and found it rather quickly.

There were several gentlemen here and there along the Wall, looking slowly at all the names. One of them asked a question about how the names were organized, and he and I spoke for a moment. He had been drafted in the mid-60's, but never went to Vietnam. He had several friends' names on the wall, though.

I have to say that I was more affected by the monument than I expected. Perhaps it was knowing someone who lost their son in the war. Perhaps it was just being there, after having heard much about it over the years. It was very sobering.

After that came the most frustrating part of the day for me. We got back on our bus and went to the Smithsonian Air & Space Museum -- and had less than an hour and a half there! AAAAAUGH! I love aviation and space history! There were two Apollo capsules, one Mercury capsule, and a Gemini capsule. There was the original Wright Flyer, the Spirit of St. Louis, Spaceship One, Dick Rutan's Voyager, and a lunar lander constructed for the Apollo missions, but never used. There was a full-size Skylab mockup, and an exhibit of an engine from a Saturn V rocket. AND WE ONLY HAD 80 MINUTES!!!! I was tempted to just hide somewhere until the bus left, and just find a cab back to the hotel, but I figured that wasn't the most responsible thing to do!

Next came the most emotional part of the tour so far -- the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. Words really fail me when I try to write something about this. The scale of the horrible events is staggering. The depictions are sometimes graphic, and the stories of peoples' lives so hard to hear. Just trying to get through all of the museum was hard, because of how much suffering is depicted. While some were saved from the concentration camps, and others escaped before being sent there, there are no happy endings for anyone even remotely involved. Truly, we need to be sure we never forget.

Somehow, after that, we managed to have dinner. Then, on to the Jefferson Memorial, followed by the Lincoln Memorial. Both were awesome to see, but I think I was really looking forward to the Lincoln Memorial more. We got there just after dark, and I think that's probably the best time to see it -- it's just beautiful!

We returned to the hotel after that, very tired, and ready to rest.

Tomorrow, among other things, we visit the U.S. Capitol Building, and attend a wreath-laying ceremony at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at Arlington National Cemetery.

Historical Studies Tour - Day 4

2010-05-09T20:38:00.001-07:00

First thing this morning was loading the bus, then breakfast, and then onto the bus for a 2-and-a-half hour drive to Philadelphia. I've been pretty impressed with the good behavior of this group of kids. There is the occasional need to calm one or two of them down, but they're showing a lot of respect to the teachers and adults on the trip, so it's been good.

In Philadelphia, we disembarked in the Liberty Park area downtown.

Before I go on to my descriptions of our visits, I've got to say something about our guide, Mr. Gregg Pfister. I mentioned in Day 1's entry that he walks with a great deal of energy. That was being kind. The truth is that he is a sadistic, vicious little man who loves to torture his charges by pretending to walk when he is actually running at a sprinter's pace! He went easy on us the first three days, but has now turned up the heat, and insists that we walk at his "lively and brisk" pace -- I call it "running."

Okay, kidding aside, he has asked us to increase our pace, to get ready for all of the walking we'll need to do throughout Washington D.C. the next few days. I'm not one to mosey, but his pace almost makes me look like I'm standing still! I'm glad I brought my Z-Coil shoes!

(Now back to our regular entry, already in progress.)

Our first stop was a theater in the Information Center, where we saw a 30-minute docudrama called "Independence." It was produced in 1976 for the U.S. Bicentennial, about the Declaration of Independence and Constitution. It had a great cast, including Eli Wallach, Ken Howard, William Atherton, and E.G. Marshall as the narrator.

After that, we walked across the park to tour Independence Hall, site of the Colonial Congress, later the Continental Congress, and then the U.S. Congress, and where the Declaration of Independence and Constitution were debated and signed. On the tour is the famous assembly hall where it all happened, the courtroom next door, and the original Congress Hall, with the House of Representatives chamber on the first floor, and the Senate chamber on the second.

The rangers on the tour were very informative and well-spoken, so it was very interesting to hear some of the details of the events. But it was exciting to be in that same room where Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, and George Washington spent many hours over many years, shaping the government of our country.

Before actually going in for the tour, we went into a side building, where they have copies of the Declaration, the Articles of Confederation, and the Constitution on display. They're not the original documents, but they are early copies of them. They are protected behind heavy glass, climate-controlled, and dimly lit. They don't let you take pictures of them using a flash, because of how that might affect the documents. Very interesting!

After Independence Hall, we walked over to the Bourse Building, where we had lunch and did a little tourist shopping. The lady at the Chinese food place I got my General Tso's chicken warned me that it was VERY spicy. After having it, I resisted the urge to go over and call her a liar.

From there, we crossed back over to the Liberty Bell display. With all the kids there, it wasn't really possible to read all of the information in the five or so exhibit alcoves; I could have probably spent a good hour there, looking over all of it. The Liberty Bell itself is so iconic, it was a little surreal to be right there, looking at it! There's is a feeling of, "Yes, I've seen this in so many pictures, so it's not a big deal," and at the same time a feeling of, "HOLY COW! IT'S THE ACTUAL LIBERTY BELL, AND I'M STANDING RIGHT IN FRONT OF IT!!!"

We then walked several blocks to the site of Benjamin Franklin's house, now long-gone. The site has been rediscovered, though, and there is a skeleton of its structure, as well as that of the printing office he started, then passed on to his son-in-law. Under the frame are windows into the ground, where you can see parts of the original foundation of the house which he built there. Next to that area is a building into which you go, and walk down three long ramps into a museum about his life and work. As you go in, you see one of my favorite Franklin quotes on the wall:

Our next stop was Elfreth's Alley, a short street that dates back to colonial times, with several of the three-story, "Trinity" houses that are typical of the construction in Philadelphia. The street is narrow and cobblestoned, the houses are narrow, but in addition to being a historical landmark, most of the homes are still private residences. Can you imagine living in a landmark?

We then sprinted after Mr. Pfister back toward Liberty Park to meet the bus. On the way, we were able to see (in passing) Betsy Ross' house and Benjamin Franklin's grave, next to that of his wife, Deborah, and his daughter and son-in-law.

I wish we had better pictures, but we have lost the cord to charge up our camera, so the only thing we have to take pictures with is my phone and John's Flip video camera. It's a bit of a bummer, but we're making do with what we have.

After our walk around Philadelphia, we drove to Laurel, Maryland, to the hotel which we'll be staying in for the next four nights. The kids were all excited to find that there is an indoor pool just outside of our rooms. I was excited to find that we have Tempurpedic mattresses! Woo-hoo!

Tomorrow we start three full days of touring Washington, D.C. and its environs. I'm looking forward to it!

Historical Studies Tour - Day 3

2010-05-08T18:14:00.001-07:00

Historical Studies Tour - Day 3

Today wasn't quite as action-packed, since we spent most of the morning on the bus. We woke up this morning to a mild thunderstorm outside, which was kind of interesting to see. Some of the kids haven't seen that many thunderstorms, so they were a little more intrigued by it. Once again, we had our breakfast at the bowling alley before getting on the road.

Our morning drive took us through five states: We started in Massachussets, went through Rhode Island, Connecticut, and New York, and ended up in New Jersey. It rained for most of the drive, sometimes quite hard, but by the time we got into New York, it had cleared up, and it was sunny and beautiful (though quite windy) by the time we got to Liberty National Park. That's where the ferry terminal to Ellis Island and Liberty Island is, and I especially liked the building, which at one time was a major train station for lines going all over the area. There were 15 or so numbered railway platforms, with their old signs up, showing where the lines went to. No rails remain in place, and all of the rail beds are overgrown with brush and bushes, but it still looks like a great old 19th-century railroad hub.

The ferry took us first to Ellis Island, where the stories of millions of immigrants intersected. It's an impressive collection about the island's history, the kinds of things that went on there, and the changing immigration laws over the years. It would be nice to spend more time there, when I didn't have to shepherd kids through the place in a short amount of time.

Then we hopped back on the ferry and went to Liberty Island, and got to see the Statue of Liberty from close up. We didn't have time to go up into the Statue, unfortunately, but it was great to be there, right next to it. My image of the size of the Statue was a bit off, though. From movies, TV, and comic books, I had the impression that it was much taller than it is. It's still an impressive sight.

Back to the bus again, and to our hotel in Hasbrouck Heights, New Jersey, where we had a pizza dinner, and were set free for the night. I took hall duty, making sure the kids behave themselves until lights out, when they're in their rooms for the night.

Tomorrow: Philadelphia, Liberty Hall, and the Liberty Bell, and whatever else we can find to do.

(Can't seem to upload pictures tonight. I'll edit the post when I can.)

Historical Studies Tour - Day 2

2010-05-07T20:09:00.000-07:00

Today was a pretty busy day, with lots of good walking.

We had breakfast at a place near our hotel -- it was actually the snack bar in a bowling alley! But apparently, this place has a good enough kitchen to lay out a nice little buffet for us, and it was pretty good.

We returned to the Faneuil Hall area, and before starting on the part of the Freedom Trail that goes through the North End, we went by the New England Holocaust Memorial. I remembered the monument from when I had visited Boston in 1997, but there were things about it I missed the first time, so it was good to see it again. It's a very moving experience, especially for something that occupies only a few yards of a city walking park. There are six towers made of steel and glass; each tower represents one of the six Nazi concentration camps.

On the glass panes are numbers which resemble the prisoner tattoo numbers of those who were in the camps.

The thing that strikes you is that there are A LOT of numbers - six million, actually. Each tower is about 30 feet high, and the columns of numbers go all the way to the top, so it gives you a better sense of scope for how many people that would be. The sidewalk runs through each tower, and as you pass under them, warm air comes from vents in the ground, recalling the gas chambers and furnaces of the camps. On the sidwalk are various facts and quotes, and then, at each end, the word "Remember" written in English and Hebrew. Very moving.

(We will be seeing the Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C. when we get there, too.)

Then we walked along the Freedom Trail some more, and got to see what one of the oldest parts of the city looked like. The Paul Revere House was not open for us to go in, but I loved seeing the European-influenced architecture in some of the buildings around there. Apparently, the area was inhabited early on by Irish immigrants, fleeing the Potato Famine, later on by Jewish immigrants, and more recently by Italian immigrants. It's Boston's "Little Italy," with many Italian restaurants, bakeries, and coffee houses.

We stopped at the Old North Church, where we went inside and listened to the docent talk about the church's history, especially the events of April 17th, 1775, when Paul Revere and 30 other riders passed along the warnings of the British soldiers advancing toward Lexington and Concord. The docent also pointed out the famous bust of George Washington in its alcove, and the organ with its pilfered angels decorating the loft. It's a very interesting building, and worth visiting if you get the chance.

The park adjacent to Old North would be interesting to spend a lot of time in, reading the plaques and memorials to various

members of America's armed forces from all through our history. In the garden of the church itself was another very moving memorial, this one to those American military personnel who have lost their lives in Iraq and Afghanistan over the last decade. It's a series of six-foot-high posts, with strings of dog tags hanging between them, one for each lost life. A stirring tribute, and a very effective one. I caught a short video when I saw that the sun was reflecting off of some of the tags onto the ground. (I'd upload the video, but the Internet connection in this hotel is rather slow!)

We then walked to Copp's Hill Burying Ground, one of the oldest cemeteries in Boston. Some of the headstones are over 300 years old, which is pretty darn old for us Americans, but nothing for Europeans!

We then walked back to the Faneuil Hall/Quincy Market area to have lunch and do a little souvenir shopping. While we were there, a Marine Corps band was playing at one end of the Quincy Market building. It was great to listen to them. Like one of the adults in our group said, you can't beat a military band for precision! They had about three songs in which some members of the band sang, as well, and that was really good, too!

We then boarded our bus again, and drove to Plymouth, to tour the Mayflower II, a replica of the original Mayflower from the 1620 crossing of the Pilgrims. Nearby is the famous "Plymouth Rock," which represents their landing place. It may not be the actual landing place, but it makes for a good monument!

Then, down to the the Plimoth Plantation, a "living history" museum of both the Plymouth colony in 1627 and of the lifestyle of the Wampanoeg people who lived in the area at the time. In the English village, there were several people in costume and in character who talked about the lives of the colonists. Not only were they very informative, but they were very good actors, giving lots of serious details about the people, their community, their relations with the natives, and the political situation driving European colonization of the New World. It was quite interesting to me, but I think it may have bored some of the kids!

We had dinner at the Plantation, with turkey, dressing, mashed potatoes, butternut squash, salad, and desert. Then we came back to the hotel for the evening, mercifully early for our tired feet!

Tomorrow morning, we're up at 5:45 to get out of the hotel and go to breakfast, and on the bus by 7:30 or so to head to New York, where we'll see Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty!

Historical Studies Tour

2010-05-06T20:10:00.000-07:00

My wife said that I should post something about the trip I'm on with my son and his classmates. I figured that would be as good a reason as any to resurrect this blog!

We are on a 9-day trip to the East Coast, visiting sites important in our country's history. It's called a "Historical Studies Tour." We flew today to Boston, Mass, and despite the image you might have of spending nearly five hours on a plane with 42 eight-graders, it was a smooth flight, and nobody was threatened with being shoved down into the cargo bay. At least, not seriously.

Once at Logan Inernational, we met our tour guide, Mr. Pfister, and boarded the bus that will be our limousine for the next several days. We drove to a restaurant, called "Old Country Buffet." I think it may be part of the same chain as Hometown Buffet in our area, but I'd have to say that the quality of the food is somewhat better. And, if you can believe it, we got in and out with all 42 kids, 10 chaperones, two teachers, tour guide, and bus driver in just over 50 minutes!

After dinner, we drove back into downtown Boston, and were let off the bus at Boston Common, the famous and historic city park across from the Massachusetts State House and other significant buildings, and walked along the Freedom Trail, led by Mr. Pfister, who walks with more energy than all of the kids put together. We walked from the Common, past the State House, the Park Street Church and Granary Burying Ground, King's Chapel and Burying Ground, the Parker House (home of Boston Creme Pie!), the Old South Meeting House, the Old State House (site of the Boston Massacre, as well as many other important revolutionary meetings), and finally ended up outside Faneuil Hall. Interesting places, and Mr. Pfister seems to really know his stuff!

Tonight and tomorrow night, we're in a hotel just a bit south of downtown Boston. Tomorrow, we'll finish the Freedom Trail, have lunch at the Quincy Markets, and go on to the Plimoth Plantation for touring and a traditional Thanksgiving dinner.

We'll be moving on after that to visit New York (very briefly), then Philadelphia, Washington D.C. and the surrounding area, and finally Gettysburg. I'll post more reports as I go, and maybe a picture or two. I'm putting a few incidental pictures up via Twitter, which you can see at http://www.twitter.com/eltsac.

Worth a short read...

2008-10-12T08:47:00.000-07:00

Here is a bit of wisdom from a writer and teacher that I admire, Edward Fudge.

"If there ever was a time for turning our eyes and hearts to God, current events scream that this is that time."

What he said.

2008-10-05T11:22:00.000-07:00

"The folly of mistaking a paradox for a discovery, a metaphor for a proof, a torrent of verbiage for a spring of capital truths, and oneself for an oracle, is inborn in us."

- Paul Valery

Required Reading

2008-04-07T23:09:00.000-07:00

I’m going to instruct you to grab a box of tissues, and head over to Angie Smith’s blog on the life of her daughter, Audrey Caroline. This is not a request, but a serious charge to have your faith both shaken and strengthened by the story. Start from the first post back in January of this year, and read your way to the latest posts, from today, Audrey’s birth day.

Angie’s words of pain and struggle and faith have blown me away as I read all of her posts today. This is a woman whose faith in God is so strong, it makes me feel as if I can trust God even more than I ever have before, even in the face of the worst kinds of challenges.

Enough of my words. Go read Angie’s. I’ve got some praying to do.

An Open Letter to My Sister-In-Law

2008-04-02T20:55:00.000-07:00

Dear Karla,
        First of all, I would like to thank you for the very nice shirts which you have given me for the past three Christmases. It is obvious that not only are you an excellent seamstress, but you also know my tastes in clothing quite well. The style of the shirts is perfect for me, the fit is excellent and quite comfortable, and the choice of materials has always been fantastic.
        I certainly don’t want you to get the idea that I am not grateful for the shirts; quite to the contrary, they are among my very favorite items of clothing; I wear them frequently, and almost always get great comments on them from others. I do hope to receive such shirts as gifts for as long as you enjoy making them, as for as long as giving them as gifts keeps you from turning toward unfortunate gifts, such as soap-on-a-rope.
        However, I feel the need to point out a disturbing trend that I have noticed with regard to their design. It is relatively minor, and I hope that I do not offend by pointing it out. I do not mean to criticize, but to state the observation, and hope that it is merely coincidental, and not indicative of a greater trend.
        The first shirt you gave me, for Christmas 2005,with the eye-popping pattern of alternating gold, purple, magenta, and cyan stripes, with small stars among them, had two chest pockets, one on each side. In 2006, the shirt I received for Christmas had swirling blues and whites, and it had a single chest pocket, on the left side, as is quite common. This past Christmas, the shirt again had wonderful blues and whites, in stripes and swirls, and had no pockets. Two pockets, one pocket, no pockets.
        Please do not misunderstand; it is not the absence of pockets on the most recent gift that is of concern. I don’t have to have pockets on my shirts, though at least one is nice to have from time to time. I am, instead, somewhat unsettled by the trend in the decreasing amount of fabric being used to make the shirts.
        Again, the shirts have all been generously sized for my more-than-ample frame; none of them are uncomfortable when I am sitting, and none of them is in danger of losing buttons for having to stretch across my mid-section. If the amount of material were to decrease along the trend shown by the previous shirts, I am sure that you would not skimp in this way; neither you nor anybody else wishes to see my white belly peeking out between the buttons of a shirt that is too tight for me.
        No, I am more concerned that the decrease in material will be evidenced in other unfortunate ways. If, for instance, you were to change to a tab collar instead of the traditional men’s collar, it would lend an air of unfortunate formality to a design that is quite casual and to my liking. Or, as another example, you were to make future shirts sleeveless, that would, of course, require me to either wear a t-shirt underneath, and roll up a pack of cigarettes in one of the t-shirt sleeves, or to get a rather large tattoo on each arm. Being a fan of neither smoking nor of tattoos (and the unfortunate encounters with tattoo artists required to get them), that would be distressing for me. For the sake of family harmony, and to honor your gift, I would, of course, do one or the other, but it would be a burden which would mar the spirit of giving.
        Ultimately, the trend toward using less material would, of course, lead to you giving me a tie. This would, in my mind, be unacceptable. I do not wear ties. I refuse to wear them. They serve no practical purpose, they are uncomfortable, they have the unfortunate tendency to get caught in paper shredders, and they bear a frightening resemblance to a hangman’s noose. Were you to give me such a gift, it could permanently mar our relationship, and since you are married to my brother, would escalate the tension in an already rancorous sibling rivalry, leading me to stay awake nights coming up with ways to continue to prove my superiority. You wouldn’t want that on your conscience, now, would you?
        Again, I do not wish to be considered ungrateful. I do love the shirts you have given, and admire your talent for making them. I hope you will give proper consideration to my concerns.
        Sincerely,
                Your Brother-in-Law, Tim Castle

Guess where I am?

2008-03-28T18:09:00.000-07:00

This explains why I've been craving fish sticks!

2008-03-25T18:27:00.000-07:00

Natalie

2008-03-24T10:44:00.000-07:00

Hamming it up at the San Diego Zoo.

Somethin' doesn't add up...

2008-03-11T17:31:00.000-07:00

Have you ever noticed that the people who "suggest" that the music at church is too loud are the ones who wear hearing aids? Seems like they would be the ones who could handle that better than the rest of us. It also seems like in churches where "women's participation" (i.e. including women in the active roles of Sunday morning worship) is being discussed, the ones who are most opposed to it are usually women.

I just have no patience for intolerance!

This pretty much sums up how I feel about politics

2008-02-26T01:00:00.000-08:00

"There is a tragic flaw in our precious Constitution, and I don't know what can be done to fix it. This is it: Only nut cases want to be president."

- Kurt Vonnegut

Your car needs a power-up

2008-02-19T20:49:00.000-08:00

We’ve all gotten used to the12-volt “cigarette lighter” power ports in our cars. If you’ve seen a car built before 1995, you may even have seen one with an actual cigarette lighter, instead of just the little cap over the top. They’re still in our cars because we’ve come to need them to charge our cel phones, iPods, GPS devices, radar/laser detectors, portable DVD players, and all the electronics we tote around with us these days. Most new cars have more than one; our van has three, two in the front, and one in the back.

I’ve noticed that a lot of cars are also packing built-in power inverters and standard household power plugs, so you don’t have to use the 12-volt plugs, or a separate inverter. That’s pretty handy. I hope that gains in popularity.

But my beef (for today) is with the form factor of the 12-volt plugs. Since fewer and fewer of us are smoking in cars these days, can we come up with a different kind of plug, less bulky and cumbersome than the old kinds? Why not use the EmPower ports, the ones found on some airplanes these days? The adapter kits are already out there for portable devices, so it’s just a matter of auto makers starting to make the change.

I guess I’m just bugged by the bulkiness of the ports. If they were half the size, you could put twice the number of them into the dashboards and consoles of most cars. Considering that I’ve occasionally had to shuffle around with plugs, when my wife needs to charge her phone at the same time that I’ve got my GPS unit and iPod cradle plugged in. Yes, I know I can get a splitter, but that just adds to the jumble of cables in the front of the car.

Does this make sense to anyone else? Are there technical hurdles to work through, in addition to the long-term logistical work of changing something the American (and probably world-wide) car-buying public has gotten used to?

Hard things

2008-02-06T09:59:00.001-08:00

One of the things about being involved with leading worship at church is that you get asked, at times, to sing at the funerals of people you don't know. I don't know if you consider it a good thing, or a bad thing, but it's starting to feel more comfortable in my "good" column. Mike Cope once mentioned that it's an honor to be invited into the "sacred places" in peoples' lives: hospital bedsides, weddings, prayer vigils, and funerals. I'm learning to understand the wisdom in that.

Monday evening, I sang with some other folks from church at the funeral for the mother of a young lady from our church. I was given the job of finding some songs to sing, which is often quite difficult for funerals. It's easier when the family has requests, but in this case, they left it up to us to choose the songs. I went through the list of songs that our praise team knows best, and finally settled on two: Hortaio Spafford's "It Is Well With My Soul," and Matt Redman's "Blessed Be Your Name." They both spoke to me of the faith that we need to get us through hard times, like the death of a loved one.

We all have hard times in our lives. Sometimes they're momentary, but generally the real hard times last far longer than we think we can manage. These "hard things" in our lives turn into "firm places" -- stepping stones, if you will. They are the things on which we can track our walk through life, and indicators of the growth of our faith. In a lot of ways, our lives would be more difficult if we didn't go through the problems. We usually think it's the opposite: "If my problems would just go away, life would be easier." That's a silly idea. The troubles in our life help us learn to navigate trouble.

I have had a tendency to think very negatively of moments in my life that I made mistakes, or embarrassed myself. I'm starting to rework that thinking, and learning to live with less regret over those moments, and with more thankfulness for having learned a thing or two along the way.

Tools

2008-01-24T15:49:00.000-08:00

I'm not a real handyman. I don't even play one on TV.

I am, however, a homeowner, which gives me license to pretend to be one every now and then. Lately, that has entailed much drywall and joint compound, prybars and shovels for wet floor underlayment, a caulk gun, and more than a few broken utility blades. It has also found me making more than a few trips to the hardware stores in the area, and that always leaves me starring glossy-eyed at rows of shiny, happy, ready-to-be-purchased power tools!

I love power tools. I wish I needed one of everything at Home Depot, just to have them around, taking up space in the garage, being dusted off occasionally to do some minor project far beneath their limit of usefulness. Practicality, however, limits me to purchasing only the tools that I can make my wife believe I'll actually have a use for.

My first power tool was, of course, an electric screwdriver, back when I was an apartment dweller, and didn't need anything more than that. You need understand, though, that the electric screwdriver is the "gateway drug" of tools. It seems nice and harmless, but pretty soon, it doesn't do the job for you anymore, and you need something more to get you revved up: you need a reversible, variable-speed, cordless drill with forty-leven bits with which to drill and fasten your world into submission. It only gets worse from there.

When you become a homeowner, you look around at the walls that you (and the bank) own, and you realize that you can put as many holes in them as you want, and nobody's going to complain. Until, that is, the walls are covered with more empty space than paint. Then you have to fix them. And while you've got the walls open, you see that the wiring isn't quite up to the standard of today's electronics-loaded life, or that there isn't any insulation in them, or that there is a mystery wire that doesn't seem to connect to anything. Every little thing escalates into something more than you expected.

For instance, take the example of our master bathroom. One day a few years ago, my wife decided that she was going to paint our bathroom. She asked me to take off the baseboards, so that she could pull off any wallpaper, and see what else needed to be done. When I started, several weeks had passed since she had first asked me, but that's not the point, the point is that when I put my catspaw prybar up to the wall to start gingerly pulling off the baseboard, it went right through the wallboard, which was mushy and soft, due to water from the shower penetrating through the grout around the tile, and turning the whole wall into a big spongy mess. I think the wallpaper was the only thing holding it up. Digging in further -- literally -- I found more water damage. Tiles started coming off WAY too easily, and wallboard crumbled off leaving exposed some rather damp wall studs. The floor covering was linoleum, but underneath was a particle board underlayment, and it was soaked and crumbling. The farther I got into it, the worse things got. In the outside wall, once I had pulled off the tile and wallboard, was termite damage.

What started out as painting finally became a near-complete gut of the bathroom. I took the shower walls and one of the interior walls down to the studs, in order to properly insulate the exterior walls, and sound-insulate the interior wall. We replaced the underlayment and put down vinyl tiles. We replaced the toilet, and had the shower and vanity counter done in a solid-surface product. We even replaced the lighting, exhaust fan, and toilet paper holder. And it only took us two years to finish everything.

With every home-improvement project escalation, the only solution is to buy a bigger hammer. Or maybe a power saw. Or an air compressor with a nail gun. At least, that's my solution. I suppose a rational person would say that the solution is to get it done with the tools you have, but what fun is that?

My tool collection has grown from one lowly electric screwdriver to include a circular saw, a compound miter saw, a rotary cutter (Roto-Zip), a rotary tool (Dremel), a 1-gallon, 100 PSI air compressor, with nail gun, and most recently, the most useful tool a home owner can have, a reciprocating saw, or "sawzall."

I don't think there is any way to overstate how useful a sawzall is. It's the appropriate tool for so many different jobs; it's even more versatile than a leafblower! Taking down a wall? SAWZALL! Removing a door jamb? SAWZALL! Tearing out an old deck? SAWZALL! Neighbor's tree hanging over your fence? SAWZALL! Neighbor's car parked over the property line on your side? SAWZALL! Day-old bread just a little too hard? SAWZALL! Nose hairs growing out of control? SAw... wait a minute, maybe just tweezers for that one, and save the sawzall for those bushy eyebrow hairs.

Granted a sawzall isn't that great when you're building; it's mostly for tearing down. It isn't precise enough to cut lumber to length, or cutouts in plywood. I guess one of those chainsaw sculptor guys could probably make use of it pretty well, but that's not me; the last time I tried to sculpt anything, it was made out of salty dough, and though it was supposed to look like a relief map of the state of California, it ended up looking more like the cat threw up.

What I'd really like now is a router table. I don't have a need for it, really. I'd just like to round over the edges of various scraps of wood laying around the place, so nobody hurts themselves if they fall on them. I tried doing that with the sawzall, but it didn't go too well.

Had to share this one, which I saw on a friend's blog.

2008-01-21T21:59:00.000-08:00

Having posted this, I will return to my “nothing” box.

My favorite Holiday geekery

2007-12-11T21:52:00.000-08:00

Do yourself a favor; click here to look at iYule, the video Christmas album for your computer, iPod, iPhone, TV (if it’s attached to a media player of some kind), or what have you. A crackling fire and soothing piano music set a great holiday mood! The first time you play it, though, you’ll just sit and watch the fire, so be warmed, er, warned. Actually, on a big enough TV, you might get warmed up, at that!

Yeah, you can get this kind of video at Bed, Bath & Beyond, but the music on this one is very soothing. Plus, the producers are donating a percentage of their take to various charities.

Between iYule, and my iPod full of Christmas music, I’m set for the season!

Stuff I saw whilst driving around

2007-10-18T19:28:00.000-07:00

I was out and about this week, and I saw this:

Kopi Luwak, for those of you who don’t know, is a very rare kind of coffee. The luwak, also called a palm civet, is an animal found only in certain Indonesian islands. Apparently, ripe coffee cherries are part of their usual diet, and when their digestive systems are done with the cherry, the beans are deposited within their feces. There are lively discussions about what the digestive enzymes may or may not do to the quality of the beans, but so far as I’m concerned, those discussions can’t get around the fact that some poor slobs have to collect poop to “harvest” the coffee.

So, the coffee gets separated from the fecal matter (another process I’d rather not think about), and when roasted ground, and brewed, the coffee is supposed to be the best-tasting coffee you’d ever want to taste. It’s very highly sought-after, and very expensive. If you go to the website shown in the picture, you’ll find that you can mail-order a pound for $85.99!!!! Wikipedia has a short article on it, which notes that one cafe in Australia sells one cup of this stuff for A$50.00!

That’s a heck of a lot of money for crappy coffee, if you ask me.

All that aside, the question I have to ask is this: If you sold coffee that expensive, would you be driving a Ford Escape? If you’ve got enough ego to push over-the-top gourmet coffee, with all the snobbery and cooler-than-thou thereto appertaining, wouldn’t it take at least a Hummer H3 to hold said ego?

--

Another episode: I was driving on the freeway today, and got stuck behind someone in the slow lane who was taking “slow lane” entirely too literally. When I was finally able to get around them, I peeked over at the driver (because that’s what we DO in these situations, isn’t it?), and was almost overcome by a mass of stereotypes: The driver had all of the following clichés going:

        1) Asian
        2) Female
        3) Tiny person driving a big SUV
        4) Talking on a cell phone held up to her ear
        5) Punctuating her conversation with her “free” hand -- i.e. the one that should have been glued onto the wheel.

Confronted with such a glut of stereotypes, I had only one choice: I had to shout “GET OFF THE ROAD” in my best over-caffeinated angry-white-boy voice. I tried to resist, but there was apparently too much of a concentration of tired cliches in that area, and holding back could have caused a rift in the time-space continuum.

Who am I to mess with that?

I'm likin' this!

2007-09-12T17:33:00.000-07:00

This seems like the kind of thing I would do, were I a firefighter.

Fire Fighters lift car with water!!! - Watch more free videos

Ah, memories....

2007-06-10T22:05:00.000-07:00

Twenty-seven years ago today, I was sick.

You may ask, “Tim, how can you remember being sick all that time ago?” I’m glad you asked. I’ll tell you.

Today is my 43rd birthday. Or, as you might have already observed, it’s my last prime-numbered birthday until 47. Twenty-seven years ago today was my 16th birthday, and I remember that day pretty well, considering how far away it is now shrouded in the mists of pre-history. (That’s what my kids would have me believe, anyway.) I remember it because all that week I was sick at home with the chicken pox.

At the time, my family was living in Woodland, California. My dad was the minister at a church there; I was in high school, as many 16-year-olds are, and in my opinion, I was ready to face the world, as many 16-year-olds think they are. (I was wrong, as many 16-year-olds are, but that’s beside the point, as many of my comments are.) My parents tell me that I was an obnoxious, lazy know-it-all. I don’t remember being obnoxious, but the rest still tracks pretty well.

Somehow I had gotten it into my head (my parents told me) that I had chicken pox as a three- or four-year-old, the way all the Castle men do.... three spots, a high fever, and it’s all done with. That’s how Granddad Castle had ‘em, how my dad had ‘em, and so I was just following the family tradition. So when the dratted spots started showing up among the kids at our church, my parents responded with compassion toward the other folks at church who hadn’t had them, by volunteering me to help in the kids’ classes, substituting for the “at-risk” folks.

Imagine our surprise (and my disgust) when I started getting sick! Apparently the immunity you get when you have gone through the dreaded pox didn’t take in my initial encounter, and there I was, right in the sights of the attacking virus. I was a goner.

One thing you don’t find out until a time like this is that such diseases hit you a lot harder the older you get. I had the spots EVERYWHERE on my body -- on the bottom of my feet, in my ears, in my mouth... and everywhere you can think of. It was most uncomfortable. Plus, I had a fever, nausea, and aches that are the stuff of legend. It was a miserable week.

To add insult to injury, that was the week in which our church was hosting a vacation bible school, and to support that, a preacher friend of my dad’s, Victor had brought his “youth staff” to help. Each summer, Victor collected teenagers from churches all over the area to go put on VBS programs, camps, outreach campaigns, and generally help out churches up and down the state. Since I was sick, I didn’t get to participate. Not that herding kids around VBS all week was my idea of fun, but the fact of the matter was that in this “youth staff” were a few quite lovely young ladies that I was quite intrigued by. It had been in my mind for some time leading up to this week that it would be a good time for some serious hand-holding. (Give me a break: I was a good church kid, and so were most of these intriguing young ladies; hand-holding was about as much physical affection as we would let ourselves think of. Okay, as much as we would let ourselves think of for more than a second or two. Most of the time.)

But, no; as I saw Victor’s bus pulling in, I was starting to feel ill. My mom felt my head, and her eyes widened, and she banished me to my room for the duration. My parents had already committed to hosting some of the teens at our house, and, what with my dad being in charge of the VBS and associated activities, and our house being so close to the church building, the whole gang was in and out of our house for the whole week. All those lovely hands, just waiting to be held, so close, yet so far. I was heartbroken. And itchy.

On that Thursday afternoon, I heard some voices outside my window, singing “Happy Birthday” to me. I peeked outside, and there were several of the gang, wishing me a good birthday, but keeping a safe distance. I remember looking at one of the intriguing young ladies and thinking, “She’d look real cute with these spots on her face.” I thought it would be worth finding out, but as I headed for the hallway, there was Mom, coming to see how I was enjoying my surprise serenade. For an instant, I thought about trying to get past her, but realized that in my weakened condition, I was no match for a mother in the prime of her “Oh-no-you-don’t-young-man-get-back-in-there-and-stay-there-until-I-say-you-can-come-out-and-why-don’t-you-clean-your-room-while-you’re-stuck-in-there” years.

As the bus drove off at the end of the week, I was just getting my strength back, but not enough to chase after it. I had missed an opportunity for girl-chasing, and that was that.

So that is the sad tale of my 16th birthday, and as sad as it may be, my birthdays since then have faded the memory of the spots and of my exile to contact-isolation, especially those of the last 16 years, since my wife and I have been together. My 43rd started out with my wife and kids showering me with affection and attention. I got to hug them, and share with my wife a kiss that would have turned my ears red at 16. The hand-holding wasn’t bad, either.

An irrelevant quote

2007-02-21T12:51:00.000-08:00

"Anybody caught selling macrame in public should be dyed a natural color and hung out to dry."

-Calvin Trillin

(I’ve been enjoying the quotes from www.quotationspage.com for a while. You can not only read and search there, but subscribe to quote-of-the-day emails or their RSS feed.)

God knew I would write this

2007-02-12T23:07:00.000-08:00

Our church is soon going to begin the “40 Days of Purpose” program, based on Rick Warren’s book, “The Purpose-Driven Life.” It seems like we’re the last church in America to do this. We’re SO not trendy, but that’s okay.

As we prepare for it, our elders wrote up a statement regarding two points in which they disagree with two things in the book: the role of baptism in one’s conversion, and the idea that God has planned out our lives completely. I won’t discuss the baptism part here, other than to say that I’m in favor of viewing baptism as a necessary part of our conversion story. It’s the other piece I’m thinking about today.

There’s an idea that floats around evangelical Christianity that says, “God has a plan for your life. He has had it mapped out since the beginning of time, and knew before anything happened exactly what you would be doing at this moment. He is in complete control of your every step.” It’s very deterministic, and makes us sound like some kind of robots. For that matter, if God planned every moment of my life, why would He make me commit any kind of sin? And if He planned each person’s life, why would anyone who sins ever be punished for an action they had no control over. I don’t think the original statement is very helpful for understanding what it means to be human, much less to be a human in God’s image.

On the extreme other end is some kind of deism, which says that God set things in motion, then left us all to go about our lives, and doesn’t care much what happens. That’s not the kind of God I care to believe in, much less worship and try to be like.

Somewhere in the middle is the idea that God did know from the very beginning what would happen in each moment of everyones’ lives, but not because He caused it to happen. God created us in some kind of pattern that resembles His being (whatever that means), and we all have control over our actions, and make choices according to our beliefs, our feelings, our intellects, and our impulses. God transcends time, so he would know the ultimate result of the all of our actions.

My question is why can’t the truth be some combination of the “middle ground” and the deterministic view. Not an average, or a compromise, but a combination of them. Is the idea that God planned my life really in conflict with my having free will? On the face of it, yes, but there is language in the Bible to suggest both are true. Perhaps the truth is greater than we can see, and we don’t do God any disservice by expressing that both are true.

Here’s another paradox that we play with all the time: Jesus was completely human and completely divine. Our rationalistic sides might say that He was “100 percent human and 100 percent divine.” That, of course, adds up to 200 percent, so He was twice the being that anyone else was, apparently. But percentages don’t tell the story, in this case. Perhaps that Jesus was both human and divine expresses a different truth: that to be human is to be much more like the divine than we tend to think. If we were created in God’s image (and we were, according to the Genesis account), then maybe Jesus’ divine essence fits very easily into human form. Still, He did “empty himself,” according to Philippians 2, so there is some major difference -- just not the kind of difference we might be expecting.

I think I’m thinking too much, without getting anywhere. But this is what I’m thinking about at the moment. Thank you for reading.

The Vista from up here

2007-01-30T14:44:00.000-08:00

I went out today to buy a copy of Vista Home Premium (full version, not upgrade; this is going on my barebones system that I had previously tried to use as a SharePoint learning system, and used the eval version of WinServer 2k3) and Office Small Business (upgrade). The buying experience itself was a joke.

I went to the ever-more-inappropriately-named Best Buy ('cause it was close to Jamba Juice), and after finding where they had hidden the software section, saw that they had boxes saying, "Ask a sales associate for assistance." So I tried to find one that wasn't already in intense conversation with another sales associate or that wasn't already confusing... I mean helping another customer. I finally found some pert young lady with more eye makeup than brains (i.e. a "senior sales associate"), and asked her where I could get the software. She referred me to the computer service desk (not the GeekSquad desk, mind you, the one in the middle of the display area), where someone would be with me in a minute. After several of the afore-mentioned "minutes," I realized it was going to be a while. Several troubled people were already getting "help" from the one person on duty there. Other "associates" were busily trying to avoid eye contact with customers.

Fortunately, the iMac display was next to the desk, so I played around a little, chuckling at some of the "I'm a Mac, I'm a PC" ads. Finally, the associate at the desk got through telling the two different people that the particular item each was looking for might be available at Fry's or Circuit City, and turned to me. The exchange was something like this:

Me: "I'd like to get Vista Home Premium, and the upgrade for Office 2007 Small Business."
She: "Okay, I'll get the Vista Captain to help you." (They've got a "Vista Captain?" Where's the Captain in charge of getting things done?)
Me: "I just need the software."
She: "Well, he's really the most knowledgeable about the products, and can assist you better." (Cause the comparison chart about which version of Vista to get is obviously not going to be any help whatsoever. At least, not in overselling to poor, unsuspecting Windows users.)
Me: "I don't need assistance. I just need the software."
She: "Oh, you already know what you want?" (At this point, I have already decided that I'm going to brain the first person who suggests that I talk to one of the GeekSquids for help with installation.)
Me: "Yes, just Vista Home Premium, full version, and the upgrade for Office 2007 Small Business."
She: "Okay, I'll take care of it."

It is only then that it occurs to me that they don't seem to have any cabinets of the software right there. She's going to have to go into the dreaded "back room" to get it, leaving the mass of poor, troubled, assistance-seeking customers around me to mope ever longer. But I don't care about them, I'm having a talk with my blood pressure about coming back down to earth.

So she gets on the phone, talks to someone, asks me AGAIN what versions of Vista and Office I want, and then tells me, "Okay, sir, they'll be up at the front; go to any cashier and ask for them."

Couldn't I have done that from the beginning? Why didn't they just use good old-fashioned pull tags?

So I go up to the line at the front, and eventually walk up to a cashier to tell him what I want. He says, "Okay, I'll get that for you." He then walks over to the senior customer service associate (the irritating person who says hello to you when you walk in and frisks you when you walk out), and tells him what it is that I want -- after, of course, double-checking with me that he's actually asking for the right things. Mr. Greeter asks the cashier to cover the door for him, and then goes into one of the closets up by the front door, and disappears for a minute or two, long enough for me to wonder... how big IS that closet, anyway? He then returns with the two boxes of software, gives it to the cashier, who brings it over to ring me up.

Now, I know what you're thinking. "Of course, they got the wrong versions, didn't they?" But I hate to bring a perfectly good rant to an end when I tell you that they did, indeed get the correct items for me.

On the way out, the booth bunny at the Comcast display out front (a black hummer with the "It's Comcastic" slogan plastered on it) tries to strike up a conversation: "So, I see you picked up Vista!" (Unsaid undertext: "Don't you want some Comcastic, high-speed goodness to go with that?")
'
"Yes," I answer, "I did. I needed something to complain about for the next several weeks, since my Mac and my DSL line are working so well for me."

Me? Cranky? Oh, a tad.

I should have just gone to Office Depot. It's not as close to Jamba Juice, but it is next to Starbucks.

My new motto for learning

2007-01-30T00:25:00.000-08:00

“If in the last few years you haven't discarded a major opinion or acquired a new one, check your pulse. You may be dead.“

- Gelett Burgess
(A relative of yours, Owen?)

I’ve not blogged in so long, I’ve almost forgotten how. But I’ve been getting more random thoughts lately, and might have something to say soon. Then again, I might just have gas.

A new approach to an autumn chore

2006-11-14T20:36:00.000-08:00

It’s fall, and the leaves have been falling for a while; most of the trees on our street have fairly well been cleaned out. Fortunately, we hadn’t had much rain to speak of until this week. On Sunday afternoon, it was high time I cleaned out the rain gutters on our house.

Cleaning the gutters is such a dirty and slow task. Hoisting the ladder out, putting it up, climing up, cleaning out what I can reach, then getting down, moving the ladder, and repeating until done.... ick. Even if I climb up onto the roof, it’s quite a process, having to move the bucket along with me. Last year, I decided I’d just throw it on the ground, and clean it up afterward. Still messy, but a little less precarious than hauling a bucked up and down, or along the roof’s edge.

This year, I was wondering if there wasn’t some way I could make it go faster. I thought of trying my shop-vac, but realized that its hose is too short, and there was no way I was dragging the whole thing along the roof with me. Nina reminded me of our leaf vacuum thingy. It’s actually a leaf blower that you can attach a catch bag and a vacuum cone onto, to pick up all the leaves from your lawn. Take off the bag, and remove the cone, and it’s back to being a leaf blower.

So I dragged that thing up, and found that there was no way to get the end of the vacuum cone into the gap between the roof’s edge and the gutter’s lip in order to make the suction pull the leaves out. The cone is just too big.

Then it hit me. Why not just use the blower to blow the leaves out? They should still be dry, and come flying out. Could be fun!

Well, the gutters weren’t entirely dry. Turns out the rain from last weekend, and the residual moisture from the dew of the chilly mornings we’re getting kept a decent amount of mud in the bottom of the gutters. BUT -- it worked, anyway! Leaves came flying out, and then, so did the mud, raining down on the ground below, our cars in the driveway, the lower part of the roof, and, naturally, all over the nut with the leaf blower!

The first spatters caught me by surprise, and I thought, “Well, maybe not.” Then I saw just how effective this method was of cleaning not only the dry leaves out of the gutter, but also the wet leaves and the remaining sludge. It worked well, it worked fast, and if I kept at it, I could be inside and warm (after a hot shower) in record time. So, on I forged. I warned the kids to stay away, or to go get an old umbrella, and ran the blower all the way down along the front of the house. The front took about 8 minutes (not that I was counting), and the back took about 5, since it was less damp, and collects less foliage.

Now, I’m sure some one was looking down the street and saw me up there with a leaf blower, with leaves, muck, and debris blasting up out of the gutters, and down onto me, our house, and our yard, and thought, “That has to be the dumbest guy I’ve ever seen. Hauling a leaf blower along the roof -- he could fall and break his neck! Why doesn’t he just get a bucket and a ladder, and muck them out the way you’re supposed to?”

Then again, there were probably one or two guys who thought, “Man, I wish I’d thought of that.”

It feels so good to be an inspiration to people.

This is SO me...

2006-10-27T16:07:00.000-07:00

"Setting a good example for children takes all the fun out of middle age." - William Feather

Another quotable

2006-10-18T10:55:00.000-07:00

"I'll be more enthusiastic about encouraging thinking outside the box when there's evidence of any thinking going on inside it."

- Terry Pratchett

ZOE Conference Reflections

2006-10-11T11:06:00.000-07:00

I have spent the past couple of days trying to write my reflections on the ZOE Group worship conference that I attended last weekend, with mixed results. It’s hard to try and sort out everything I learned, because some of it isn’t easy to articulate. But, fool that I am, I’m giving it one more try.

As I flew to Nashville last Wednesday, I found myself wondering where my attention to God had gone. It seemed like every now and then I’d wake up and think, “Oh, yeah, I’m a Christian. I need to be organizing my thoughts to do good things in God’s name.” I spent more time thinking about the mundane things of life, and about the non-Godly things I was expecting for the weekend -- where I’d do a little shopping, where I’d eat, where I’d do some sightseeing -- and little time trying to open myself up to what God had planned for me to hear for the weekend. Appropriately enough, the theme for the conference this year is “Closer,” and it focuses on finding intimacy with God.

I puzzled over odd things on the flight out; from Oakland to Dallas, I was in a window seat next to someone that I barely looked at, and didn’t interact with at all. It was one of those situations where you are forced to be physically close to someone, but you put up an invisible wall to retain some strained sense of personal space. I wondered what it was that makes some people more able to interact with strangers in such situations. I’m a generally friendly guy, but I do tend to clam up in situations like this. I was very relieved that my second flight from Dallas to Nashville put me a whole seat away from the nearest human being.

Wednesday evening, I attended the “Vespers” service at the Otter Creek Church. It’s a contemplative service, with low lights, candles, and softer music. The theme had to do with prisoners; I expected to focus on being prisoners to our sin, or something spiritual like that, but they were talking more about their ministry to people in prisons in the area. Still, it was a good experience. I’d like to do something like that at our church sometime.

At the Leadership Conference, which went from Thursday afternoon to Friday afternoon, the keynote speaker was Lauren Winner, author of several books, including Girl Meets God. I had been reading the book over the week before the conference, and have been challenged by it to consider ways to focus my relationship with God through adopting some liturgical practices in my daily routine. Her talks at the conference further moved me in that direction. Ms. Winner (soon to be Dr. Winner) spoke very well about finding God when He seems to be hidden, and also about Sabbath-keeping and its role in the Christian’s relationship with God. I got a lot out of it.

Jeff Walling spoke Thursday evening about the fact that God has done everything necessary for us to be close to Him; we just need to accept and recognize His presence in order to “grow closer.” Jeff is always a real kick to hear, and he usually finds a way to use laughter to disarm us, then jumps in with very clear, moving statements that drive his point him. He spoke about Moses at the burning bush, and had everyone in the place take off their shoes and socks! He used that to illustrate our need to remove the barriers that we put up to keep God out. Jeff’s talk was very helpful to me.

Mike Cope spoke on Friday night and Saturday morning, as part of the main Worship Conference. Mike brought us lessons from two stories in the life of Jacob. When Jacob was running to Haran (and away from Esau), and had the dream about the angels going up and down the ladder, he realized that God had been right there all along.

A similar thing happened 20 years later, when he was returning home, and wrestled with God; Jacob didn’t recognize that it was God until the end of the event. It was as if he was walking around in a fog, not realizing that God was with him.

Kinda reminds me of me.

During the Leadership Conference, we had four sessions talking about how we use our heart, hands, head, and home to engage in God’s work, and draw close to Him that way. Some of the best parts of those sessions were the small groups we divided into, and the discussions we had there. My group was two gentlemen who are worship leaders and one young lady who participates in her church’s praise team. We got to bounce ideas off of each other, and help us work through the topics of the sessions. It was a good experience.

The workshop sessions on Saturday were good. I went to one led by Brandon Scott Thomas, and that was good. I respect Brandon for all he has done to serve other worship leaders, as well as his own church as a worship leader himself.

I also attended some tech sessions led by Matt Maxwell, and got to chime in with a lot of geek information, which is always fun. Matt’s a real good guy, and has put together a lot of very creative videos and media for his church in Abilene. I’ve learned a fair amount about video from him, in just a few short sessions. I love talking tech with him whenever I see him!

The worship times and singing were also very stirring. I found sometimes I couldn’t sing; I just had to listen and focus on the words being sung, trying to open myself up to God. The ZOE Singers, led by Brandon and Peter Wilson, and Woodmont Hills Church praise team, led by Randy Gill, really brought their whole hearts to worship, and drew us in with them.

It’s hard to say what I came away from the conference with. There were some ideas: God is close, I just have to pay attention -- but I knew that. Being close to God takes discipline -- but I knew that. I guess I was reminded of things I knew, and the weekend gave me a real sense of refreshment and hope. I feel like God got through to me, and that I can find the time and energy to listen to Him more.

It was a good trip, and I enjoyed seeing friends that I have made over the years. I enjoyed meals at Cracker Barrel, Corky’s and Waffle House, and enjoyed the scenery around Nashville. I was glad to get home to my wife and kids, and to start facing my life again with the things God brought me through the ZOE Conference.

Fading illusions...

2006-10-04T05:35:00.000-07:00

So, it looks like we Californians are going to have to use handsfree devices for cel phones starting in 2008. That's fine with me, though it probably means seeing more people wearing their Bluetooth headsets all the time, as if they were watches, or jewelry.

But what kinda bugs me about the whole thing is this: Weren't we supposed to have handsfree cars by now? I remember reading predictions about this kinda stuff in Popular Science when I was a kid, and I'm still waiting to be able to buy a car that flies, or drives itself! Where are the 45-minute commuter flights to Europe, for that matter?

It just goes to show you that not enough people read science fiction.

A new favorite

2006-08-27T01:55:00.000-07:00

I will admit to being a man who is quite comfortable with the familiar. Some things don’t change: The Dodgers are favorite baseball team (though I pay very little attention to baseball at all), Chicago is my favorite band (closely followed by Level 42 and Toto), and Dr. Pepper is my favorite soft drink.

But in other respects, I have somewhat meteoric tastes. I can switch favorites in other areas pretty quickly. Favorite TV show? Lost... no, wait, Stargate SG-1... or maybe reruns of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. Favorite item on the Chevy’s menu? Shrimp fajitas, unless the fish tacos look good, or maybe I’ll go for the spicy flautas. Favorite beer? What micro- or craft brew is on sale?

Right now, my favorite a cappella jazz group is Groove Society. I just discovered them via A Cappella Always, my current favorite Live365 internet radio station. Their “Tribute to Earth Wind & Fire” blew me away, and I just had to track them down. Fortunately, their first album (self-titled) is available via iTunes, my preferred way of finding new music. Great voices, great harmonies, great arrangements.... few groups get as good as this.

My apologies to Blue Line Max... you have just been unseated, though your Christmas album will always have a treasured place in my library. And, of course, you will always be my favorite a cappella jazz group, half of whose members I have met, which is based in Portland, and which has recorded “There Was a Star.”

Compartmentalizing keeps the favorites from fighting.

Discuss among yourselves...

2006-08-24T10:14:00.000-07:00

Every now and then, some crazy thing pops into my head -- or, more likely, out of my mouth -- that really makes sense. Last night at our prayer meeting, I got one of those. We were talking about being mad at God for things in our lives not going the way we want. As if we had any clue about how things really ought to be. But it’s okay to be mad at God, so long as we let it open up a dialog with Him.

So, here’s the thought for the day:

Sometimes, getting good and mad at God is the best way for Him to get my attention.

You can quote me. Or just point and giggle, whatever works.

Happy Anniversary!

2006-08-17T23:06:00.000-07:00

On August 17, 1991, I had the good sense to marry Miss Nina J. Oliver. (Questions about her sense in the matter will not be discussed.) In the ensuing 15 years, there have been a lot of ups and downs, as with every good marriage. We have made good and bad decisions, we have been respectful and disrespectful of each other. We have laughed together, cried together, and sometimes cried, each of us alone. We have both grown up quite a bit, and have just begun to see now how much growing we still have to do.

She has blessed me with her wisdom and intelligence, and I have blessed her with my concern and compassion. She has taught me to think more clearly, and I have helped her take time to stop thinking every now and then. Our strengths cover each others' weaknesses, and our gifts meet each others' needs.

I am learning more every day to hear her heart when she speaks, and to speak to her in a way that she will hear my heart.

I am not proud of everything I have done as a husband. I am, however, proud to say that I am her husband. She has endured my faults, and encouraged my strengths. I am a better man for having let her into my life. I pray that she is a better woman for having let me into hers.

Happy Anniversary, Nina. I love you beyond words.

(Note: Yes, that picture above IS us. She is still as beautiful as the day we got married. I am still as dashing and handsome as I ever was. Which, of course, is open to interpretation!)

Our thought for the day

2006-07-02T21:50:00.000-07:00

"Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some hire public relations officers."
- Daniel J. Boorstin

Vacation in Oregon

2006-06-24T23:52:00.000-07:00

We’ve been on the road since last Saturday, on a little trip to Oregon. We drove up Highway 101 out of the Bay Area, through Sonoma and Mendocino Counties, and up through the redwood forests of the Northern California coast. We stayed in Gold Beach, Oregon the first night out, and then spend the next day driving up to Seaside, Oregon, where we stayed for three nights in a little hotel on the beach. On Wednesday, we drove over to Portland, and are staying with my brother and his wife, primarily to attend the Columbia Christian College/Cascade College reunion. More on that later.

One thing I have noticed during the trip: Oregon drivers have the rather annoying tendency to view the posted speed limit with awe and respect, as if it were something they aspire to, but are afraid of attaining. Californians, of course, view it as an advisory about how ticked off to expect the law enforcement officer to be when we get pulled over.

Did I mention that I got a speeding ticket on this trip?

Oregon’s “highways” through rural areas, including the coastal region, have far too few passing lanes and turnouts. We’d have had a much shorter drive last Sunday if it hadn’t been for that, and all the speed-law-abiding Oregon drivers. I’m not bitter, though. If you’ve got to take your time getting somewhere, the Oregon coast is a good place to do it!

While we were in Seaside, it was rather appalling to discover that I couldn’t get a good cup of coffee from anyplace in the downtown tourist district at 8:00 on a Monday night. I thought this was the Northwest, the bastion of caffeination of the country! Aren’t there laws about the quota of coffee shops required on each block of a city, and the mandatory hours of operation? Pure insanity. I had to content myself with coffee in our hotel room.... ick. I should have brought my French press.

The Columbia/Cascade reunion has been a lot of fun. Nina attended Columbia from 1985 to 1989, and it’s been good to see some of her old friends (even some friends of mine from various places) and show off our kids. For many of the Columbia graduates, it was a time to reconnect, and recognize that Cascade is still their school. After Columbia shut down, then Cascade opened in its place, many of them felt displaced. This weekend has helped to reconnect them -- I know that’s true for Nina.

It’s been good to see several folks I have come to know through WorshipForum -- Ike Graul, Dan Dalzell, Jim Murphy, “Big Mike” Lewis, Joe and Pam Burris, and probably some others, who I have already forgotten.... I have gotten to know some of Nina’s college friends over the past few years, as well, like the LaValley family, Don and Mary Lou Boderman, Dan and Linda Coburn, Jeff Brady, Kami Ellenz, and a few others. So it helped me to not feel completely like the odd man out.

I even got to sing, along with Nina, on a praise team at the chapel service on Friday morning. Dan Dalzell had been asked to lead a couple of songs, and so he put together a group of us to sing together. It was great fun, since the group included Dan and his wife, Lani, Ike and Kaelea Graul, and Phil Hurley, all of whom had sung with various groups at Columbia/Cascade. Also singing with us were Dan’s parents, Dick and Sue Dalzell -- Dick directed choirs at Columbia for many years, and is one of the best vocal conductors I have ever seen. I was in awe of the talent Nina and I got to rub elbows with for the morning. Nina was very glad to be included, since she wasn’t known for singing while she was at school -- she did the band thing, playing flute (quite well, if you ask me).

Friday evening, there was an event called “Campus Collage.” It was billed as a talent show, but the talent in question was... well, questionable! It was neat to see some folks perform together who had done so when they were in college together, even if they were a tad rusty. And Greg and Kevin Woods’ rendition of “To Dweam the Impossible Dweam” was hilarious!

For me, though, the highlight of the evening was Wayne and Lori Aus reviving their “Jake and Kate” act. I had seen Wayne do “Jake the Peg” at camp when I was 12 or 13, where he comes out as a three-legged man and does a little song and dance number. (“...at school when we had the three-legged race, I could win it on my own!”) Later, he and his wife added her part to it as a three-legged woman who Jake meets and falls in love with. It was fun to see it again, and even more fun to watch my kids watch the act, and try to figure out how they did it!

It’s been a good trip, and tomorrow we start for home. We’ll stop tomorrow night in Redding, and get home sometime Monday. It’ll be good to get back to our own beds, our home church, and my French press.

Eyeglasses and the things that stick to them.

2006-05-17T16:19:00.000-07:00

I found this sitting on my hard drive while cleaning things out today. I wrote it on July 7, 2000. I didn’t post it on my blog because that was before blogs. I could have posted it on my website, but I didn’t get around to it. I think I’ve got two or three other things I wrote for no other reason than I felt like writing -- or I felt like not doing what I was supposed to be doing. Anyway, here are my thoughts on eyeglasses from six years ago.

--------------------------

There are many disturbing things that happen as a result of aging. Aches, pains, incontinence, the inability to understand current popular music lyrics, overwhelming bouts of maudlin nostalgia, the getting-up-and-going of one’s get-up-and-go, and the increasing effect of caffeine on ones system are just a few.

I think, for me, the most annoying product of impending middle age is that I can’t seem to keep my eyeglasses clean anymore. From time to time, while staring dully at my computer screen (which also happens much more frequently these days), I’ll notice what appear to be smudges and spots on the monitor. I’ll dutifully clean them with a static-free cloth, and then notice that the same smudges have moved to my desk, telephone, clock (which gets an increasing amount of attention, as well), or coworkers. Now, with some of my coworkers, I don’t mind it as much, but it’s nice to be able to tell who’s coming to see if you want some fresh fruit apart from the young punks who are trying to stab you in the back!

Eventually, I’ll realize that it’s my glasses that are smudged, not the rest of the world. I seriously do not recall it being this much of a problem when I was younger. (Oh, great. More nostalgia!) My glasses could stay clean all day… even when I ate pizza for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and every in-between-meal snack! (Alas, that, as well, would now have embarrassing, if not disastrous effect on my ever-nigh-unto-decrepit body!) Occasionally I’d wipe them off on my shirt tail (which is much higher than it used to be), or other cloth that was lying around (more and more I’m only finding ragged underwear), and be set for the rest of the day, or more!

But now they seem to be grease magnets! Finger prints, spots from a particularly strong sneeze, blits of moisture from watering eyes (happens with kids, don’t’cha know!), dust, lint, animal dander, eyelashes, and who knows WHAT else, seem to use my glasses as a meeting place.

I’ve considered getting laser surgery to correct my vision. Only one thing troubles me. No, it’s not the though of some nut waving an exacto-knife around my eyeball while his mind is on his golf swing. It’s the thought of all that stuff that’s floating around, trying to get on my glasses…. Where’s it going to go if my glasses are gone? Exactly -- Right onto my eyeball!

I’m beginning to wonder if this wasn’t what great-aunt Maisy used that can of Scotch-Gard for, the one she kept handy at her sewing table when I was a kid. I thought it was kinda funny that she had it there; one doesn’t normally water-proof gingham dresses and ugly plaid shirts, as she was fond of making for all the kids. Granted, it would have made sense some of the summers we spent there, with the heat and humidity making our time in the yard more like time in a sauna…. Gee, there goes that nostalgia again!

Where was I? Oh, yes, pontificating… I’ve thought about blaming the smears and smudges on my spectacles on my infant son. But then I realize that he’s four now. Fortunately I have an infant daughter to blame it on. She hasn’t learned to keep her grimy, greasy, dirty, adorable little hands off of my glasses yet. She thinks they (and everything else within reach) are chew toys. She’ll grab ‘em when they’re on my face, try to climb the dresser to where I keep them when I’m laying down, and generally do what she can to leave her adorable, if grimy, fingerprints on the lenses. Yes, that would certainly explain it.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t explain what happens on the days that I clean my glasses before leaving the house, while she’s still asleep, and then find them already spotted and streaked by the time I sit down at my office. It must be gremlins.

Couldn’t be age.

Favorite quote for today

2006-05-05T08:39:00.000-07:00

Walter Bagehot said, “The reason why so few good books are written is that so few people who can write know anything.”

Growing up is weird.

2006-05-03T10:17:00.000-07:00

Today I find myself at Pepperdine University, at the annual Bible Lectures. My family and I have been coming to the Lectures for over 20 years, with only a couple of breaks. It’s part learning, part Church of Christ family reunion, part vacation.

I graduated from this campus 19 years ago, and there is still a feeling of coming home when I visit. More and more, though, it’s feeling like a house I used to live in, with new residents who have no idea who I am. This year, it’s even more true, since several of the most familiar and dear faces are absent. Some folks are in the process of moving, some are very bogged down with work and family projects, a few have fallen ill at the moment, and others are traveling elsewhere. The first two familiar faces I saw on campus called me by the wrong name, which was a little unsettling. It feels a bit like the place has forgotten me.

On the other hand, there are many friends here, and some acquaintances I have made that I get to talk with once a year, here at the Lectures. Some people recognize my name and face from Worship Forum, and others I have met at the ZOE Group conferences. I’m also here with my wife and kids, and there are several folks from our church here. So it’s not as if I’m feeling lonely or abandoned.

I am a bit reflective, though, about the change in my identity over the years. I used to see myself as so much a part of the Pepperdine community. Now I still am, but only indirectly. I used to be identified as “Garey and Gerry’s son,” and I’m finding more places where they are identified as “Tim’s parents,” instead. I used to be just another member at our church, and now I’m enough of a loud mouth that some think of me as a leader there.

I suppose the point is that I never realized how long growing up was going to take. Wasn’t I supposed to be grown up by 21 or so, or at least by 30? Now I’m 41, almost 42, and am still getting a handle on being an adult.

My son, who is 9, was recently lamenting how much harder is life as a 4th grader is than it was when he was two or three years old, and wishing he could go back. I didn’t want to tell him that it only gets crazier as you get older. He’d probably curl up into a fetal position and start sucking his thumb. I know I sometimes want to.

If I did, though, I would be failing to value the things that God has taught me through my life, and would also not recognize the things that He has done with me over the past 41, almost 42, years. Growing up is His design, and I need to be more thankful for it than I am, sometimes. On balance, all the responsibilities I have to attend to are probably offset by all of the talents I have and skills I have developed by His grace.

Well, by those things, and by outgrowing zits.

How bright is the future?

2006-04-25T13:37:00.000-07:00

This week our school district is doing it’s Standardized Testing. Oh, thrill, oh, joy. I’ve got my issues with these things; the performance of the students determines a lot of funding issues for the district, and the individual schools, but the tests results have very little impact on the students themselves. That means that the schools all have to teach the kids to do well on the tests, instead of being able to concentrate on teaching the kids to do their best as individuals. Not that the two are mutually exclusive, but where money is involved, guess which one has to take a bit of a back seat?

I believe strongly that a child will learn more and perform better in life (including on tests) if their parents show at least some interest in their education; the more interest and concern and cooperation a parent gives their kids schooling, the more likely the kids are to do well in school and in life. This isn’t an earth-shaking revelation, of course, it’s a pretty commonly-known fact. My point is that I’m not as concerned with my kids performance on these tests, since it doesn’t affect their grades. I am far more concerned with them acquiring the skills it takes to excel in life, including life within academia.

As a somewhat-involved parent, I volunteered to proctor some of the tests. This means that I show up and wander watchfully through the room, making sure kids are filling in the right bubbles, staying on the right pages, not looking around at others work (though the format makes cheating very difficult), and generally staying on track. It involves encouraging smiles, warning looks, and, unfortunately, absolutely no smacking of hands with wooden rulers.

This morning, as I was proctoring in a 5th-grade class, I gave in to the diversion of trying to guess which kids would finish first, and which ones would be falling asleep. It was interesting to see how wrong I was in some respects. I was looking at the kids from the front of the room, and I was suddenly struck by the fact that they were all so focused and intent on their tests. There was very little staring around the room blankly. They were quiet and ready to work, and did a very good job of working their way through the material. Out of 26 kids, only 4 needed a little more than the allotted time to finish.

Then I got to thinking about the potential of these kids, the possibilities that will they will have available to them. Some will be able to take advantage of the opportunities that come their way, and some won’t. Some will work hard, and some won’t. Some will succeed, and some will fail, and some won’t care.

I suddenly found myself praying for them. “Lord, bless these kids with Your presence. Give them opportunities to do great things. Help them to overcome anything that gets in their way. Give them courage for difficult times, and make them generous when times are easy. Send Your people to encourage them and bless them, and help them to see You all around them. Give their parents extra wisdom to guide them in the right direction. I know that some of them are in bad situations now, or will be someday; people will hurt them, people will abuse them, people will push them down. Lord, lift them up and keep them whole, so that they can find their way to You and be healed.”

I prayed in this way for a good part of the test, wondering what God would do with each of them. Some of them, I know, will never give themselves to God -- some will never have the chance, and others will run away from God. I don’t know what good my prayers will do, but I just figured it was important to give them whatever I could, aside from the encouraging smiles and warning looks.

If you have a chance, find a school that needs volunteers. Go in and ask if there’s anything you can do for them. They may look at you funny if you don’t have a kid going to that school. They have to be careful, of course. Perhaps, though, you can find a way to be a blessing, anyway. Be persistent in offering your help. And pray for the school, for its students, and its staff. Ask God to let you become a blessing to them, and watch what He does with you.

Gotta get this out of my head

2006-04-24T15:55:00.000-07:00

I’m blaming my Uncle Roger for this one...

Camp Food
To the tune of “Bicycle Built For Two”

Camp food, camp food,
The food that makes rats afraid.
I’ll bet tramp food
Would taste more like mom’s homemade.
The hot dogs are boiled for hours,
The milk is so old it sours,
The butter’s lard,
The bread is hard,
And the kitchen is dirty, too.

Someday, someway,
Someone will hear my plea;
Serving camp food
Should be a felony.
I’ll give them my testimony;
I’ll show them the camp’s baloney
As evidence
Of negligence
On the part of the camp’s cook crew.

About 30 years ago (and it still shocks me to realize that I remember stuff that long ago), we found that in an issue of Mad Magazine, not long before we were to go to a church camp. My uncle Roger, who is less than 10 years older than I am, was with us that summer, and we decided that it’d be fun to sing that song at campfire one night. Roger wrote the words down in a notebook he was taking with him. Of course, by the time he’d written it, we’d all sung it through twenty kajillion times, and pretty well had it committed to memory.

As it turned out, the food at camp was pretty good. My mom and several other amazing ladies did a fantastic job of cranking out good food for over a hundred people in a makeshift kitchen in a wilderness campground, and nobody was complaining about it, except for those who didn’t have another notch to let out in their belt! We decided not to sing the song, since it didn’t make sense, and because we realized that we’d have to go to that same kitchen crew for our meals during the rest of the camp!

Roger, however, still had his notebook there, and one time left it at the campfire circle one afternoon. Someone was collecting the items left there and looked through the notebook to try to figure out whose it was. They found Roger’s name, but they also found the words to the song. The next morning at breakfast, Roger got a very special stack of pancakes, with paper from his notebook cooked into them. It never pays to even think about insulting the kitchen crew!

We all had a good laugh, even Roger. I, unfortunately, am still suffering with the words stuck in my head, so I suppose the last laugh is on me.

An update about MacJournal

2006-04-15T13:37:00.000-07:00

I mentioned just over a month ago that I’d be trying out MacJournal to edit and manage my blog entries. It was a bit frustrating, as the thing didn’t always upload my entries to blogger.com and publish them correctly.

This afternoon I launched it again, and it notified me that an update was now available, so I downloaded it and tried it out. It seems to be behaving itself much better now. I’m a much happier individual.

The actual interface itself, if you were just using it as a personal journal, is very good, with a list of the entries in your journal, and a calendar showing what dates you write entries on. You can save out any journal entries to RTF, PDF, Word, web pages, plain text, and a couple of iPod-happy formats.

There is also this “full screen” mode, which gives you green text on a black screen (or your own customized color scheme), with nothing else on your Mac showing up. I guess that’s for those of us who are easily distracted by other windows on our screen, like those for any work we’re supposed to be doing. For me, it’s not really compelling, but it’s kinda cool.

I don’t know which feature I like better: being able to write while offline and post later, or being able to see all of my entries contained in a program on my computer, rather than having to go into the archive links on blogger.com. Being able to download all of my existing entries in my blog (or any new ones I make outside of MacJournal) is an extremely handy feature. It’s definitely a better writing tool than the web interface, and much cleaner than writing in Word or TextEdit, then copying it to blogger.com.

I’m establishing my ratings scale here, in terms of hot peppers:
• Bell peppers - not so hot; skip it
• Pepperoncini - mild; worth having sometimes
• Jalapeño - hot; good for anything you’re doing
• Habañero - smokin’; so good it hurts

So I’m calling the current beta (4.0.b4.1) “jalapeño” for now. If the release version maintains its quality, I might even upgrade it to “jalapeño-and-a-half” status!

After a trip to Arizona

2006-04-15T11:44:00.000-07:00

My family and I took off for Arizona last Monday, since the kids were out of school for Spring Break. We flew to Phoenix, drove to Sedona, and visited the Grand Canyon. It was a fun trip, though a bit too short to really relax enough to call it a vacation.

A few thoughts:

• Arizona drivers like their speed limits low, and like to observe them. It was a bit of a shock to this California driver’s system.
• We rented a GPS navigation unit with the car. Why haven’t I already gotten one of these things? It was way fun. I didn’t need it, as I’m really good with maps and planning out routes already, but how much more fun to program in a location and let the little box give me directions! If I’d been able to connect it with my laptop, it would have been even more fun, but I guess I’ll have to buy my own for that.
• On the drive from Phoenix to Sedona, we stopped by the Montezuma Castle National Monument. My son was really excited, because he’s been studying a lot about Native Americans in school, and the Sinagua of Arizona were new for him.
• Sedona itself reminds me a little of Malibu; touristy, but enough “local gathering places” in the middle of the tourist areas to make it seem less so. Of course, I’ll take the beach over the red rocks anyday.
• The Grand Canyon -- wow. That’s one big hole in the ground. I’ve seen pictures so many times, but a picture really cannot do justice to the size of the place. It’d be fun to have a week or so to see all the places around the rim, and get a chance to hike down in. We had an afternoon to gawk and take pictures, but it was still memorable.
• Why in the heck do overpriced lodging establishments charge so stinking much for wireless internet access while you’re there? The installation and maintenance costs of the connections are so small, there’s no justifiable reason to charge just for that. In fact, adding on the software to manage the pay-to-surf connection only adds to the cost of the system, and adds to the cost of running it. Save some money, folks -- make it free! And if you’re not going to make it free, at least make it possible to use dialup from the rooms!
• The Phoenix airport has consolidated all of their rental car operations into a terminal a couple of miles from the airport. This, I suppose, makes it a little less crowded at the airport, but other than that, I can’t see much of an advantage for the traveler. We had to find the shuttle, ride 10 minutes, then walk into the rental terminal (big enough to be an airport in itself!), and wait in line 45 minutes at the Alamo desk. It was less than welcoming.

The high point of the trip for the kids was the swimming pool at the condo where we were staying. They’d have stayed anywhere there was a pool. The high point for me was the Grand Canyon. A very close second is that we got to make three visits to Cracker Barrel while we were traveling. I’m a fried okra an turnip green addict, and I’m not ashamed to admit it!

Too... much... information

2006-04-01T14:26:00.000-08:00

Found this link to an article on The Cure for Information Overload. Good reading; a bit intense, but worth the time.

Enjoy!

My favorite quote for today.

2006-03-16T19:27:00.001-08:00

From The Quotations Page today:

“Actions lie louder than words.”
- Carolyn Wells

Trying a new blog tool

2006-03-13T20:49:00.000-08:00

I’m checking out the beta version of MacJournal 4, a journal application that supports posting to blogs. I’ve been looking at it for a while, since MacWorld Expo, because this new version not only lets you post, but will also download all the existing entries from a blogger.com blog and let you keep them on your system. That’ll be useful if I ever decide to move off of blogger to some other tool.

I recently came across mention of WordPress, and have been impressed with its feature set. For the hardcore blogger who wants to blog with lots of multimedia, it’s looks like a good tool. And I found out that the hosting service I use for my own website has it available as a plug-in to an existing site. I may do that at some point, even though I don’t think I’ll get to doing multimedia stuff.

Why not, you ask? Why wouldn’t a dyed-in-the-wool technology addict like me want to add podcasting, video blogging, or at least photocasting to my site? Well, frankly, I’m just more comfortable working only in words. Besides that, I’ve got a great face for radio, and a great voice for silent movies. When I started my blog, started out by admitting that, “...the only reason a person blogs is because their ego succumbs to peer pressure.” If I decided that people wanted to see my mug and/or hear my voice, I think even my ego would laugh itself to death.

Anyway, this is my first post using MacJournal. I’m hoping it will make it just that much easier to write, so I’ll post more. ‘Cause my ego is telling me that you all want to hear more of my ramblings.

Mind you, it’s giggling when it says that. It must be watching something amusing on TV.

A good pour...

2006-03-09T16:27:00.000-08:00

[DISCLAIMER] I wrote this about four years ago, and sent it to my brother and my friend John. John reminded me of it today, and suggested that I post it. Such a smart boy. Now that I'm spending entirely way too much time studying and writing for another class at church, it seems even more appropriate to bring it out again.[/DISCLAIMER]

Last week, I took my reading for the class I'm teaching with me and went to dinner by myself. I decided to go to Harry's Hoffbrau -- the corned beef was calling my name. By the way, the horseradish sauce they serve there is done by Beaverton Foods (in the Portland, OR, area), and it kicks butt! Good burn, good flavor.

Anyway, I got my tray and went into the back area, then popped over to the bar to get a Guinness. The barkeep was in the middle of pouring two pints for other sots; he'd started a minute or so before, let the glass fill partway, let it settle, then came back to finish the pour. I was quite impressed with his style, and started drooling a bit. As he went to take the pints to the lucky slobs who'd ordered them, the guy who had dished up my corned beef came back behind the bar and said, "Okay, Sam, break time!"

AAARRRRGGHGHH! The chap smiled at me and said, "What can I get you?" I said, "Guinness, please," and prayed that he'd be as good at pouring the mahogany nectar... but, alas... he poured it as if it were just another glass of Bud.

Sam, however, had not left yet. As Bud-boy turned to ring me up, he asked Sam how to use that particular register (apparently a new, second one at the bar). Sam came over to help him, and fortunately for me, saw the freshly-mangled pint that Goofus had profaned, and asked him, "Have you ever poured a Guinness before?"

"Yeah, over in Mountain View," was the reply.

Sam didn't comment, but asked the offender to go get some change before taking over. The little turd oozed away, glad to be of help. I stayed, glad to have my pint of blessing back in the hands of someone who KNEW.

Sam said, "Let me see if I can fix this up." He proceded to pur out most of the top half of the glass -- all foam -- and then slowly to complete a very nice pour of Guinness. I said a tearful "Thank you" to him. He smiled and said, "Remind me never to go over to Mountain View."

Amen, brother. A-men!

Ick. I'm sick.

2006-02-27T23:10:00.000-08:00

The day after my last post, I started coming down with a nasty head cold. I'm still feeling lousy. I got it, I believe, from my daughter, who was sick and who is ever one to share anything she has... So I have been congested, feverish, achy, headachy, coughing, sneezing, and generally unable to sleep more than an hour or so at a stretch for four days now.

Can a geek get a "There, there, poor dear?"

This is, of course, of no great interest to anyone except the poor souls who have to put up with my grouchy self (i.e., my family) and the makers and vendors of cough, cold, and pain remedies, all of whom have no doubt seen a marked bump in their profit, owing to my rabid consumption of their products. There is a corresponding dip in the profits of vendors and distributors of coffee, since I have had absolutely no desire for any since coming down with this mess.

To me, the worst thing about being sick like this is the total inability to concentrate on all the trivial and useless pursuits that usually bring me such joy and hours of diversion. Things like TV, or reading geek news, or doing Sudoku, or reading sci-fi novels. I suppose it is bad enough that I don't feel good enough to do the things I really need to do, but the indignity of not being up to do the things I usually do to avoid productivity is just too much.

Makes me wanna go cry in my NyQuil.

Mops and ministry

2006-02-22T13:04:00.000-08:00

I had an interesting experience in ministry today. Well, maybe "interesting" isn't the right word.

I've been spending some time during the week at our church building, studying for the class I'm teaching and doing some administrative stuff for the worship ministry. I was getting ready to update our song database, and pulling some filed song sheets in our workroom, when I noticed a pretty bad smell. Brian, our minister, had mentioned a few minutes earlier that the toilet in the bathroom off of his office had overflowed, and he had spent a few minutes mopping it up. There is also a bathroom off of the workroom. Its toilet had overflowed, as well, and without getting too graphic, let's just say it was yucky.

Obviously, we have a systemic problem, plumbing-wise.

Now, I'm not on staff. I'm not involved in the building & grounds ministry. I don't even need to be at the building, I can take the materials and work elsewhere. But I'd be a real jerk if I didn't do something to clean up the problem, myself. Brian would have done it, but should I expect someone else to clean it up, when I'm capable and available? I'm a part of this church family, and I ought to be willing to pitch in for things like this.

Granted, I hated this part of working in restaurants when I was in high school, and that's one of the main reasons I was motivated to get an education and make a living as far away as possible from a mop.

But Brian's position as our minister doesn't qualify him to do this any more than my status as a sometimes-volunteer. He's got a Bachelor's degree in Bible, a Master's in Religion, and a PhD. in Communications -- that'll earn you a free trip away from mop-land, even more than my Bachelor's degree, if anything will.

But, as I said to him as I was cleaning, "It's all part of full-time ministry."

Because even though I am not a "full-time minister," in terms of employment at our church, my status as Jesus' disciple makes me a full-time minister of reconciliation, and with that job comes a lot of opportunities to serve. Sometimes those opportunities look like teaching, sometimes like leading worship, sometimes like counseling, and sometimes like doing technology stuff around the building. But sometimes, it looks like a mop.

Too many Christians are very willing to let someone else do the dirty work, whether it's plunging toilets, mopping floors, teaching Sunday School, carrying food baskets to a shelter, listening to someone who is asking for help, or reaching out to tell people about God.

Obviously, we have a systemic problem, service-wise.

So, what about you? Have you mopped up anything messy lately? Have you overlooked an opportunity to free someone else from an undesirable task, even though it's not your job?

Just something to think about on a Wednesday.

Et tu(nes), Amazon?

2006-02-17T07:57:00.000-08:00

Regarding the story that broke yesterday about Amazon working to develop their own competitor to iTunes, and even an Amazon-branded MP3 player:

Is it just me, or does this count as another "ho-hum" for Apple? Virgin said they were going to do the same thing, and we haven't heard a peep about it since the announcement. The only advantages Amazon might have is that the companies they're planning to partner with have a boatload of titles that people might actually want, and their database technology will probably adapt to the music store task very well. Other than that, it's pretty much going to be just another potential source of stuff to put into iTunes.

If they were to come up with their own branded media player app for both Windows and Mac (and really, why even try on the Mac?), I doubt it'll convert anyone from iTunes. Having to re-import your library and playlists would be enough of a deterrent for me.

As for another hardware device, have they learned nothing from watching Sony, the inventor of the personal media player (by way of the Walkman), flounder in the digital music space? If Sony (who used to be coolest-of-the-cool) can't keep up, and Creative (the only other company whose players you can buy just about anywhere) runs a distant second to the iPod, why is introducing another device into the market going to get them anywhere?

Besides that, if you're walking around with an MP3 player bearing the Amazon logo, you're GONNA get razzed. "Did you win that player in a contest? Was it a freebie for buying a bunch of books or something? What's with the logo?" It'll look like a cheap "me-too" product iPods have the cool factor mindshare locked down, which is why they have the market locked down.

To the music-buying public, Amazon is a guy in business-casual attire, ready and willing to sell you CDs and books. Apple is one of those silhouettes in their ads, dancing around with reckless abandon, listening to the beat of their own personal drummer. And the music-buying public thinks that Amazon guy, while he can get you just about anything you can think of asking for, doesn't know what's cool. The silhouette guy can tell you what stuff is cool, and help you show off that you're cool, too. The music-buying public is, by and large, all about being cool.

I don't blame Amazon for jumping into the space, though -- even if they bleed off only a percentage point or two off of Apple/iTunes/iPod, that's still a significant chunk of change. They'll make some money off the deal, perhaps.

Now if it were Google announcing this, it might work up a little sweat in a certain Cupertino executive suite. But then, Apple could just buy Google and solve that problem. Right after they buy Disney.

The Parable of the Lost Sheep, Retold

2006-01-09T12:28:00.000-08:00

Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Once he notices that they haven’t been around lately, he stands by the sheep fold, shouting, “Sheep! Here, sheep! Come home, Fluffy, come home!” Then, he looks around, wondering if he’s done something wrong, something to offend the one who wandered off, and he tries to think of what it will take to keep any of the other ninety-nine from leaving.

After a while, he decides that he’ll just have to live with it. If God had meant him to have all one hundred sheep, after all, then God wouldn’t have let that one sheep wander off. Perhaps, the shepherd thinks, he wasn’t given the gifts to lead all one hundred, and he should lower his sights to having only ninety-nine sheep, and accept what God has given him. God bless that lost sheep; he probably just wandered into another fold, where he’ll be taken care of, just fine.

------------------

I think that I'm done with thinking that my church isn't supposed to be very evangelistic, because we don't have anyone really gifted in it. Well, maybe it's better to say that I'm done with thinking that I'm not supposed to be very evangelistic, because I'm not that gifted in it. The parables in Luke 15 tell us that God is willing to go to extreme measures to bring every individual back to him. If we're going to be like Him, shouldn't we follow this example, too?

I'm not saying that giftedness isn't relevant. I'm just saying that ignoring the mission of every Jesus-follower -- to point the way to God -- misses the point of the gifts we have. Our gifts aren't just for encouraging other believers, they are for drawing as many people to God as we can.

I read an illustration last night of the point. At the firehouse, each of the firemen has various duties to do when they're not fighting fires. One cooks, one cleans, another maintains the equipment, another feeds the dalmation... But those duties aren't their job; their job is to fight fires. When fighting fires, they also have their various roles, based on their training.

So it is with us as Jesus-followers; our job is to point the way to God. How we do that is largely influenced by our gifts and skills. What we do the rest of the week (jobs, school, hobbies) is secondary, even though it may take up most of our time.

I've got some re-thinking of my gifts to do. I have been letting myself get away with thinking that because my gifts have more to do with things that happen on Sunday mornings, that my time is best used on that, and not on reaching out to people who need to know God. I need to find out how to apply my gifts to serving others.

So how does a big-mouthed, music-loving, computer geek with aspirations as a writer do this? I'll let you know as it happens.

Thoughts on evangelism

2005-12-15T23:43:00.000-08:00

I have been thinking a lot about the topic of evangelism lately, mostly because I am preparing to teach a series of lessons on it at my church. One of the ideas I am struggling to express has to do with the goal of evangelism, or rather, some things that are NOT the goal of evangelism, but that have been mistakenly stated as goals of evangelism. First among them, in my mind, is the myth that we need to “convert people” in order to increase attendance in our churches, and therefore the contributions given. That’s just plain idolatry. Maybe I’ll write about that some other time.

The issue I’m thinking about right now is that we have acted like the goal of evangelism is to earn favor with God. The myth says that the number of souls we “save” is directly proportional to the quality of our faith. It says, “If you’re a really GOOD Christian, you’ll convert a lot of people.” Further, it says, “If you’re not converting people, you must not be a very good Christian.”

The problem with this kind of thinking is that it assumes we can do anything to earn more favor with God. From what I read in the Bible (without going into a lot of proof-texting here), God doesn’t love any of us better than any others; He loves all persons equally, even those who don’t put their faith in Him. The point of following God isn’t to “get in good” with him, but to be made over into His likeness, through Christ’s atoning sacrifice, and transformation by the Holy Spirit. Being saved isn’t about the process of becoming good enough to get into Heaven, but of becoming like God enough to display His Kingdom here on earth.

Obedience, then, is not what we do to keep God happy. It’s what we do to keep ourselves on track with His transformation of our lives and our characters to match His own. So, evangelism, like anything else we do in His name, doesn’t make us any better; it’s one of the things we do to allow transformation in us. If we hold back from doing anything that pleases God, we hold back some part of our lives that needs His touch to make it more complete. By not obeying, whether it be in evangelism or anything else, we miss out on opportunities to be made better than we are.

Some people are good at evangelism – they’re gifted for it. Others of us, like myself, aren’t particularly gifted for it. That doesn’t excuse us from our need to work at it, to try our best, and to submit our lack of giftedness to God, so that He can work through our weakness to achieve His goals.

When it gets down to it, evangelism isn’t that hard. We just have to let people know that God cares about them, and wants them to be His. What goes on from there is God’s doing. There are things we can do to prepare ourselves to express God’s truths to them. I intend to learn more about those things in the coming months. Maybe I’ll write about them as I learn them.

Rambling thoughs on a Thursday evening

2005-12-01T21:18:00.000-08:00

My dad, Garey Castle, is a real smart guy. He is a voracious reader, a great teacher, and very capable at lots of different things. When he graduated from college, he had a degree in math with a minor in physics, and had audited enough classes to have racked up minors in Bible and Music, as well. Of course, it took him ten years to finish, but considering that he got married and had became a father by the age of 22, that's not too surprising. He worked hard to make enough to support his family and finish school, all the while learning as much as he could.

He has never stopped learning, really. Despite having some kind of reading disability (a mild dyslexia, I think), he studied constantly when he was preaching, and even more when he completed his MA in Religion -- when he was in his 40's. I can remember so many times seeing him reading some thick, dusty tome, listening to classical music, looking so much at home and in his element. I learned to love books, myself, growing up in his home.

Dad spent much of his working life as a mathematical engineer/computer programmer/satelite analyst. He also spent a lot of time as a preacher. Even now, retired in San Diego, he studies and teaches at his church. A lot of folks have learned so much about Bible history and church history from my dad.

I learned a lot about how to teach from watching Dad. He always seems to be at ease when he's teaching, and it seems to come from a strong knowledge of his subject and a respect for the people he's teaching. (Obviously, some students are easier to respect than others!) When people ask questions he didn't know the answer to, he's not afraid to say that he doesn't know; he can usually point them in the right direction for answers, anyway, and usually from a book he's got in his own respectable library.

(Mom's no slouch as a teacher, either, but I'm talking about Dad right now!)

Dad recently wrote an article for his church's bulletin about giving. Briefly reviewing the way that people gave to God in the Old Testament, he makes the statement, "It seems that the average Israelite family was commanded to give somewhere between 35% and 50% to the Lord on an ongoing basis." Beyond the "tithe" that so many evangelical Christians pound on, there were other regular offerings required under the Law of Moses. The sum total of it boggles the mind for we 21st-century Americans... until, maybe, we total up how much we pay in various taxes.

Dad's article goes on to talk about the expectation that we Christians will give to God's work today. The institution of the church, for all of its flaws and weaknesses, is the primary channel for giving for us. I firmly believe that it is vital that I and my family give to our church -- and not only for the sake of the church's finances, either. We give because... because we have been given a LOT! Our giving to our church, though, is not the sum total of what is modeled for us in the New Testament. Our example is Jesus, who gave up everything. That's more than challenging, it's brutally difficult for us in our culture. We are trying to learn what it means to live in surrender, but it's easy to lose track of that when we're trying to plan for our future. We'll probably never get it down perfectly. Thank God for his infinite grace!

When it gets down to it, I learned about giving the same way I learned about teaching -- by watching my parents. For my parents, giving is just part of living for God. We were never rich growing up, and sometimes things were really tight; but if someone needed something, my parents were never afraid to give to a need, even if it meant going without for a while. As a kid, that was dreadfully inconvenient for me, but I guess the message got through.

What does all this have to do with the price of papayas in Peoria? I don't know. I'm trying to understand how I can give more of myself to God's service. By "give," I don't just mean money. I mean of my time and my talents. Are there people around me who could benefit from something I have to give? I'm sure there are, but I'm trying to figure out how to connect and find a place to serve.

I don't know how I'll make time for that. Someone told me recently, though, that when you are put into a situation where you have to take care of someone else's needs, you learn a lot about slowing down, and removing yourself from all the busyness we usually find ourselves in. Ironic, isn't it? When you have to drop everything to serve others, you find that everything you've dropped is probably going to be fine without you, and you without it.

Lord, help me figure that one out.

Question of the day

2005-10-18T09:06:00.000-07:00

If you write a blog, and nobody reads it, is it still considered a waste of bandwidth?

Another fad turns to dust

2005-10-13T17:01:00.000-07:00

For those of you who think "spinners" are cool, you are now officially wrong. I just saw them on an otherwise unadorned Ford Taurus.

Another great ZOE Conference

2005-10-11T22:59:00.000-07:00

Nina and I were able to go to the ZOE Group Worship Conference in Nashville again this year. It was an incredible experience! Besides the thrill of worshipping in song with over a thousand others, and the blessed times of fellowship and sharing with friends from all over the country, and the meals we enjoy at Cracker Barrel, we were challenged by the missional theme this year.

What is "missional?" It's a current church buzz-word, to be sure, but the people who use it are, by and large, trying to get us to wake up and be the people of God, instead of just being the people who support a church. It's about "going into all the world," instead of waiting for people to come to our church buildings and special events. It's recapturing the Great Commission of Jesus as our own mission, recognizing that we need to be doing Jesus' business in the world -- reaching out with hands to help, listening to people's stories, and pointing the way to the Great Physician. It's not about making more church-goers, but making disciples, apprentices of Jesus. While most of our churches claim to be doing this, we spend way too much time and energy on operational and logistical issues of running a congregation than we do getting out to touch the people who are hurting. You don't need a program, project, or even a "ministry" to do it on your own, but we can't seem to do anything without organizing a committee, or hiring a minister to do it for us.

Leonard Sweet challenged us to give our churches an "MRI scan" -- changing to being Missional instead of attractional, Relational instead of propositional, and Incarnational instead of colonial. I'm not going to describe all of that here, but it describes a major change in the way churches work. It's going to be a hard change for most of us to make.

Larry James of Central Dallas Ministries convicted us about how we avoid dealing with the poor, treating them as if their status is a disease instead of an opportunity to learn what's really important in life. He said that when we look at the poor, all we see is their need, because of our materialism. We don't see their assets, and we completely ignore their dreams. Poor people are the most generous, both with their money and their time.

Mike Cope's biggest contribution to my thinking and faith this weekend was a quote he borrowed from a book called "Unveiling Glory" -- "Living like Jesus is not something we do to get salvation -- it IS our salvation." And his retelling of the Sermon on the Mount is one of the best things I've ever heard in a sermon.

Randy Harris got one of my biggest "AMEN"'s this weekend. He said, "People need to stop complaining about new things in church making them 'uncomfortable.' Where do we get the idea that we're supposed to be comfortable in church? We're standing in the presence of the living God! That ought to make anyone at least a little uneasy!"

Jeff Walling portrayed Matthew instead of just preaching. He told us about the messy Messiah we follow, about the disgrace that Jesus lived in all his life. We've romanticized Jesus' story; he was born in scandal, he died in scandalous fashion, and for his whole ministry he was unpopular and laughed at by the "polite folks" of his time. It was the underprivileged and outcast that he surrounded himself with -- the very people we do so little for today. Very convicting.

Brandon Scott Thomas and the ZOE singers gave it their all in leading worship, as usual. Randy Gill and the praise team from Woodmont Hills also gave it up during the leadership conference. They were able to include some instrumental praise in various sessions, which really added to the whole experience.

Michael Card gave a short concert on Saturday afternoon, and it was such a thrill to be able to meet him. His music has been very special to me for 20 years, and he has such a great servant heart.

And it was great to spend time with our extended family of friends: Owen Burgess and his daughter Becca, Dan Dalzell, Chris Lockhart, Rob and Clarissa Cox, Gary Bruce, and Shane Coffman. I also got to meet and re-meet in person several folks from the blog world and Worshipforum: Dwight and Jeanna Powell, Andrew Batiselli, Wes Bedwell, Bret Morris, Mitch Fewell, Eric Livingston, Chris Helterbrand, and so many others. What a blessing.

And so now, I return to my everyday life, but a little more focused on being less everyday about it, and more intentional in looking around to see where people need the touch of Jesus. I'm sure that will be a gradual change for me, but I can't see turning my back on it now. I'll let you know how it goes...

What we leave behind

2005-09-16T09:25:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about the things that we pass on to our children. Not so much the neuroses, dysfunction, and bad habits, though those are arguably the most significant contibutions we make to their lives. No, I'm thinking about the heirlooms we pass on. When I was in high school, I got a Hawaiian shirt from my dad which he got when he was in college. That shirt (now departed and much-lamented) got me hooked. Now I wear Hawaiian shirts often -- probably too often for my long-suffering wife, the half of this marriage with all the fashion sense. My son has also acquired the habit. (See above, under neuroses.)

I have something that I plan on giving to both of my children, when the time is right. It's something my mom gave me the day she dropped me off at the beginning of my freshman year of college. Several sheets of paper from a small notebook, handwritten with "Mother Castle's Washing Instructions." I keep them in a letter-sized envelope, and for several years had them tacked above my desk. Now I have them tucked away for safe keeping.

By the time I started college, I had already become mostly familiar with the job of doing laundry. It went like this: take stuff out of the already-sorted laundry baskets (or piles, depending on how things were going) and put it into the washer, then follow it through the dryer to the baskets for folding. (I've already blogged about "glumphing," so I won't belabor it here.) I usually tried to ignore the folding part, but didn't often get away with it.

Now that I was leaving for college, I had to add one more element to all of this: sorting my own laundry. >gulp< I didn't have much that was red, as I recall, so I wasn't too worried about ending up with pink socks. But I did want to keep from turning my white t-shirts from turning a dull grey after being washed with items of clothing in various colors. So my mom wrote out her advice on the matter.

Some gems:
"If you have anything new that is a bright color, wash it only with things you want to turn that color. Especially note -- red things must be washed several times before they stop turning things pink, and even after that I wouldn't trust it with your unders."

"Each group [that you have sorted] must be washed separately -- don't sort them and then wash them together, that would be dumb."

"Load machine 3/4 full loosely -- don't cram it in the machine, that just lets the washer make mud and spread it on all the clothes."

"Never pour bleach right on the clothes -- you're a good kid, but you don't need holy clothes."

On doing an extra rinse for whites that look grey: "You can pay the extra to wash them twice in the washer (once on cold, then the usual way), or you could rinse them by hand -- I guarantee your hands won't melt."

"If possible do not dry anything on 'hot' -- unless (a) the dryer doesn't really mean 'hot' or (b) the clothes are all cotton or (c) you're in a hurry and you don't care that your clothes will come out small enough to fit your little brother and so wrinkled that Goodwill won't take them."

And at the end: "P.S. Do not try to wait and bring all your dirty clothes home at Thanksgiving."

Wouldn't you agree that wisdom such as this needs to be shared?

I have started instructing my son, John, on how to handle the laundry. He's up to loading the sorted laundry, putting in the detergent and fabric softener, starting the load, glumphing, and putting the clean, unfolded laundry in a place that I will trip over it, so it'll eventually get folded. I will make him a fresh copy of "Mother Castle's Washing Instructions," possibly retitling it "Granny Gerry's Washing Instructions" for him, and set him to the task of sorting.

Now, if I can get him to fold and put away the landry, that'd be great. I still try to ignore it.

I'm back!

2005-09-08T23:50:00.000-07:00

Okay, I haven't actually been anywhere, I just haven't had the wherewithall to post for two months. Not much to say, I guess.

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Like the rest of the world, I'm still stunned at the destruction and loss in New Orleans and the rest of the Gulf Coast. Words fail me. Words fail me even more at the posturing and political hay being made by anyone who can convene a press conference. I'd be happier with the President if some of his visits with people who have lost everything were less publicized. I guess you can't do much about that; if he's out there, everyone's going to want to know what he's doing. Wouldn't it be nice if he, the governors of Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama would take their entourages do some shelter and lend a hand PHYSICALLY, and NOT hold a press conference? A lot of people are frustrated that they can't get into some of those areas and DO something to help. Here are people who can call up a helicopter or caravan of Hummers, and get in there, and they're spending more time on camera than passing out MREs.

And of course, it's all [insert your least favorite political figure or group here]'s fault.

I'm befuddled by the people who are making the rescue and recovery a racial issue. Yes, it is true that most of the folks that we saw on the news who were in danger and needing help were African-American. It is true that of all the poor people in this country, a disproportional number of them are African-American. This is the result of many factors; I'm not a sociologist, I can't list all the factors, but it's obvious that we're a far cry from "getting over" the racism that was part of the fabric of the culture during the founding of our country.

But to say that the response to the disaster was tainted by racism is pretty hard for me to accept. The slow response was horribly, shockingly unacceptable, but I don't think it had anything to do with bigotry. It's just another opportunity for people with an agenda to get their faces on TV.

Consider this: the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) needs an incredible number of people to respond to sudden emergencies. When there's not an emergency, the need far fewer people working for them. How do they go from "normal" mode to "emeregency" mode? How do they mobilize people into an area where the infrastructure has been wiped out, and where the number of people needing help is staggering? I think it probably could have happened faster, but I'm still amazed that they can get anything going in such a chaotic situation.

I am praying that God will be apparent to the people who are having to evaluate their lives and figure out what they are going to do. I'm praying that they will look away from what they've lost and toward what they can gain by faith in God. I'm praying that they find hope, not just relief from their losses.

If ignorance is bliss, I'm a VERY happy man.

2005-07-08T00:48:00.000-07:00

There are any number of things I don’t understand. That, I suppose, does not make me unique, but in admitting it, I feel that I elevate myself somewhat above those who refuse to seek wisdom by confessing their need for it. Of course, that is probably an unwise feeling on my part.

One thing I don’t understand is the appeal of the idea of having a “soul mate.” I understand essentially what it means. The basic idea is that we are born as one of two “twin souls,” or some would say, with half of a soul, and it is our destiny in life to wander the earth until we find our other half, our “spiritual twin,” and join our lives together to be complete. If we fail to find that person, we will never know the great joy of being a “whole person.” With something on the order of 6 billion people living in the world, the odds of finding that one person make this a rather depressing idea, to me. Of course, if “destiny” is involved, I suppose it would arrange to at least lob the two souls in the same corner of the planet.

There is a more popular understanding of the idea of a soul mate, though. A soul mate is someone with whom you share a deep affinity, and with whom your every moment is comfortable, happy, and open. You share pastimes, you complete each others sentences, and there is no barrier between the two of you. This is because, again, you are “meant to be together.” It’s supposed to be a very romantic notion.

I feel this is just plain hooey. What is romantic about the idea that I picked my wife because I was meant to, because “destiny” brought us together, and we couldn’t help it? It seems much more romantic to say that I chose her, out of all the other women I might have chosen, to spend my life with.

I have never regretted that choice. I have often regretted how unfit I am for the task of being a husband, but have not regretted that she is the poor woman I have inflicted myself upon! I’m not an awful guy, really, but if I’d know how much of a heartless, thoughtless jerk I can be at times, I might have just kicked her in the shin to start with, and said, “If you can come away from that smiling, you just might understand what being married to me will be like!”

If Nina and I are to be anything like “soul mates,” it will be because both of us have chosen to do so. We chose to marry each other, and we must continue to chose to become more like the person our spouse needs in order to feel fulfilled and happy, and in order to continue to grow into the person they need to be.

I am thinking of these things today because I talked to a friend this morning who is having some difficulties in his marriage. He is very confused and hurt by everything going on, but is honest enough to realize that he is not without fault in the situation, and is trying to figure out how to move forward and make things better. He’s learning to put words to ideas he instinctively knew, but is now having to flesh out into words so that he and his wife can talk constructively about their relationship. Things like, “Getting married is easy; staying married is hard work.” Well, what does that hard work look like? It’s different for each marriage, though it’s bound up in similar principles: find out what your spouse needs, what they want, and meet those needs and wants as best you can, without sacrificing yourself. If both partners give themselves to this principle, it can make things easier. The problems arise in wanting to give yourself to your spouse, and in really being able to identify and distinguish between their wants and their needs.

Well, that’s what’s on my mind right now. A tad heavy, I realize, but what fun is thinking about this stuff if you don’t make someone else put up with it?

Happy Birthday to me!

2005-06-10T07:09:00.000-07:00

Today I turn 41. Nothing special about 41, I suppose, except that it's the last prime-numbered birthday before.... 43.

We're not planning much of anything for today. Kids have school, wife has work, son has end-of-season party with his baseball team. My wife's hospital is having its very crucial accreditation review and state inspection right now, so she's pretty well consumed with that. I may take myself to breakfast, just for the fun of it. Other than that, my day looks filled with laundry and kitchen cleaning.

Someone asked me the other night if I was having a midlife crisis. I responded, "I'm not done with my first childhood, and I'm supposed to be starting a second one?" I'm not buying a sports car, I'm not looking to looking to change careers (that kind of happened for me), and I'm not yearning to sail around the world in a VW bug. I suppose I'm content with the way things are. I never had any big plans for my life; I've just always wanted to be a good guy and to have people think I'm worth knowing. So far, so good.

Well, I guess I'll let you know what's on my birthday wish list, since you asked. (Okay, nobody did, but I've got to fill up some space here.)

The Real Group's "Live in Stockholm" album. I've recently discovered this great a cappella group from Sweden, and just can't get enough of them.

Star Trek: Insurrection on DVD. Once a Trekkie, always a Trekkie.

A Starbucks gift card, of any value. I've recently begun enjoying soy lattes. I never liked a regular latte because of the flavor of milk. Soy milk takes care of that, so I get a good cup of strong coffee that's not too sweet.

An iTunes gift certificate. The perfect gift for a music-loving, iPod-toting computer geek!

And, of course, the ever-popular (at least to me) Hawaiian shirt!

Other than that, I'd be happy to hear from you, and for you to treat yourself to a good cup of coffee, or an apple fritter, or fish taco, or a few minutes of good music, as a "Happy Tim's Birthday to You" gift.

And be sure to think of my parents, Garey and Gerry Castle, of San Diego, CA. Today is their 44th wedding anniversary, as well.

Beat up the guy in the rat suit.

2005-05-29T21:16:00.000-07:00

I am writing this in the local Chuck E. Cheese, where we have brought our kids, as all good parents must, in order to amuse them, feed them, and prepare them for a life of gambling. It's a "gateway drug" of amusement. From here, they will feel at ease on the carnival midway, forking over mounds of cash in the hopes of acquiring one of those adorable stuffed animals the size of an NFL linebacker.

When they're older, it's on to Dave & Buster's, the adult version of Chuck E. Cheese, without the climbing tunnels. Good thing, I suppose; it wouldn't be wise to locate those tunnels too close to a full-service bar, especially with all those adults around. (shudder)

The next nefarious step is, of course, Las Vegas, or Atlantic City, depending on which is either 1) closer, or 2) a place you are less likely to see anyone you know. Of course, here in California, we have the "Indian casinos," thus allowing all of the folks who are too old for Chuck E. Cheese a more convenient place to lose all their money.

The final destination on this forbidding road is, of course, Bingo at the local Catholic church. That's one place you REALLY don't want any alcohol served -- some of those folks are as likely as anyone to be packing heat, ready to use it whenever some young punk in a Dave & Buster's t-shirt yells "Bingo!" when the caller read G-53, instead of the G-52 that was needed.

The whole point of a place like Chuck E. Cheese is, obviously, to get you to into a place that is noisy enough, flashy enough, and scary enough to distract you from noticing how much money you are spending. I have this image whenever I enter of the very nice young person at the gate, first stamping all the hands with a number in invisible ink (The mark of the beast? Perhaps. I'm always careful to proffer my left hand, just in case.), then inserting a vacuum hose into my wallet.

A trip to Chuck E. Cheese, however, is a gift that keeps on giving. The kids enjoy whatever little toys they get with the tickets they win. My wife and I enjoy how much quieter it seems at home, after having subjected ourselves to someplace much, much noisier for a while. And we all share the most lasting effect of the trip: Indigestion.

Depriving my children

2005-05-27T08:09:00.000-07:00

I am a bad father.

At least, that seems to be the message I'm getting, whether explicitly or subliminally, from various quarters around me. I have deprived my children of one of the basics of life in the 21st century. They don't have an Xbox. Nor do they have a GameCube, PlayStation 2, Gameboy, GameGear, Nintendo DS, or Sony PSP. How DO they ever survive?

I did break down and buy a Nintendo 64 a couple of years ago, just before it was relegated to antique status by the GameCube. And I do mean only "just before." By a matter of weeks. I knew the GameCube was coming, and yet, I bought my son a dinosaur waiting to happen. And only four games. We've since added three to that count, thanks to eBay and a couple of garage sales.

I don't feel compelled to buy anything newer right now, of course, since Micro$oft and $ony have announced their new consoles, and I'm may have missed mention of whatever Ninten-dough is coming out with next. I need to wait until a few weeks before their release to buy something obsolete.

When I talk to other parents, they seem rather shocked that I don't have one of the current-generation game consoles. Some are surprised because they know that I am a computer and electronics junkie, and it would be only natural, in their view, for me to want to keep up with gaming electronics, as well. Others are suprised because they know that I have an 8-year-old son, which, of course, means that I have a person in the house who begs and whines for whatever the latest thing is, especially when "...everyone in school already has one!" These folks seem shocked that I could resist the begging and whining. "I finally just gave up and gave it to him so that he'd be quiet!" seems to be something of a mantra shared by way too many parents.

Now, I don't want to get on a rant about other people's parenting skills, especially since I know my kids are probably on the fast track to being part of, at some point in their lives, an organization whose name beings with, "Adult Children of...." (insert some disease here, like "bookaholic," "caffeine-dependent loser," "computer geek," etc.) But it seems to me that when you give in to whining, you're training the kids to whine. They whine for something, you resist. They whine more, you resist more. They whine long enough, and you give in. It's a battle of endurance, and whoever gives up first is saying to the other, "I recognize that yours is the dominant will in this relationship, and I look forward to surrendering to you in some future battle."

I don't like these kinds of battles, and I'm hoping that by not giving in to them, my kids will eventually give them up, in favor of some more socially-acceptable way of getting whatever they want out of me. Like blackmail.

Hey, now, there's an idea for a video game: "Parent-Child Power Struggles." They come up with that for the MicroSonyTendo XGamePlayBoxCubeStation, and I'll buy one! Of course, my kids'd still probably beat me at it.

It's not a hiatus, it's a lull.

2005-05-26T14:34:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm back. I realize that I haven't written anything here in... oh, well, a 'coon's age," perhaps a geriatric 'coon's age. I am not going to promise that I will try to be more prolific, more faithful, more diligent at this. I will write when I will write, and leave it at that. Didja ever hear the old line about, "When I feel the urge to work, I lie down until it goes away." Well, when it comes to blogging, I've been lying down quite a bit lately.

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Okay, I realize that this topic has probably been overdone by way too many stand-up comedians, but I think I'm just a tad fed up with the "model years" of cars being offset from the date they actually hit the showrooms.

In April 2003, we bought a brand-spankin' new 2004 Toyota Sienna van. We got ours when people who had been on the waiting lists to buy them were still waiting. (It was a matter of timing and luck, when my wife happened to call a dealer who had taken delivery of the vehicle, but the person who had ordered it backed out of the deal.)

But let's face it. That "2004" vehicle, which was available in the early second quarter of 2003, was probably assembled in early 2003, based on prototypes made in 2002, based on design work done in 2001. It's already three-year-old technology when you drive it off the lot! No wonder cars can't seem to hold their value!

Still, we love our van. On road trips, it's a great step up from my wife's 1999 (1997?) Camry. And it was cool to be driving one of the few on the road, at the time we bought it. About a week into our ownership, though, we pulled into a parking lot in San Diego (about 500 miles from here) and parked next to our van's twin. The polish was already wearing off.

Now, of course, you can't stroll through a Wal-Mart parking lot without seeing three or four vans just like ours, down to the color and options (running boards, moon roof, DVD player, tinted windows, just to name a few). The incidence grows ever higher the closer you get to the location of gymnastics lessons, dance classes, little league parks, and other such kid-saturated locations. There's practically one in every garage -- right next to the potof chicken.

...I still love you in my heart.

2005-02-23T01:45:00.000-08:00

This afternoon, my wife, Nina, called from work to ask a question. Our daughter, Natalie picked up the phone in the other room, knowing it was her mommy. She was her usual cute self, but was interrupting a little, so we had to ask her to hang up. She complied, but then she got back on and said, "Mommy, I forgot to tell you. I love you, and even when I think I don't love you, I know I still love you in my heart."

What a great sentiment! In her own childlike way, Natalie was recognizing that sometimes we don't feel so happy about those we love, but that doesn't change our love for them. She expressed it so beautifully that I just had to record it for posterity!

A new toy... and thankfulness

2005-02-18T06:05:00.000-08:00

I splurged a mighty splurge the other day, and purchased an Apple PowerBook G4 laptop. My old Dell laptop had finally outworn its welcome, falling short on performance and capabilities when I needed them the most. In replacing it, I wasn’t going to go for the cheapest option, but for an option that would last me as long as possible. Since I have an 10-year old Powerbook 530c that still works (slow though it may be), and two Windows laptops that are five and six years old that have failed, I opted for a Macintosh. I should have done it sooner.

I’ve used Macs since they came out in 1984, and have used Windows since version 1.0. I used other things before that (MS-DOS, CPM), and have used various other systems in the past 25 years (Unix, Linux, VAX/VMS, etc). I have always found that the Mac systems were the ones that helped me get things done without getting in my way. David Pogue said it best: “I’m not a Mac bigot, I’m an elegance bigot.”

Windows has always been problematic. Before Windows 2000 came out, being an expert at Windows was always about knowing how to overcome its shortcomings. Windows XP was a major improvement when it came out, and I continue to favor it over all previous versions of Windows. It’s the closest Microsoft has ever come to “plug and play,” and has been by far the most stable Windows ever.

But give me a Mac any day. Especially now with Mac OS X, with its Unix underpinnings, it’s a real geek’s operating system, with a face that even your grandmother can love! For the past several years, I have had both a Mac G4 and an HP Pavilion Pentium 3 on my desk. They’re about as old as each other. I have had to reinstall everything on the HP at least three times, when it has completely crashed on me. Getting all of my programs reinstalled and getting everything configured correctly takes hours and hours. I have had to reinstall everything on my Mac G4 exactly once; recovering my configuration was as easy as moving a few folders around, and I only had to reinstall two programs. Time spent: about two hours.

So the choice to get a new PowerBook was as easy. Deciding to spend the money was tough, but with my consulting business coming together, I have some justification to make such an investment.

Tuesday, when I went to buy it, I went to the Apple Store at Stoneridge Mall in Pleasanton. That’s very near my friend John’s office, so I invited him to come with me and share the fun! He met me there, and we gawked and drooled at all the fun stuff in the store while we were waiting for them to get all the pieces I wanted together. Then we went back over to his office, so I could open it up, kick the tires, all while kibbutzing and drinking coffee together. It doesn’t get much better than that. Well, maybe if there had been a large-ish basket of Gordon Biersch’s garlic fries....

As I was driving to John’s office, I was feeling very thankful. I started praying a prayer of thanksgiving to God. Not so much for the laptop; I doubt whether God gets as excited about our new toys as we do. But I was thankful for having a vocation that I enjoy, and good tools to do it with, and for friends who I can share such non-essentials with. Especially since I have several friends (John, Ken R., Walt B., Brian S., as well as my brother and my dad) who are fellow geeks and fellow Christians. The material things we enjoy together (computers, coffee, baseball, music, books) are transient, but the faith we share is eternal. We can talk about our mutual interests, build friendships based on our shared experiences, and know that we are building relationships that will be carry on into eternity. Computers will crash, become obsolete, and go in and out of fashion, but the fellowship of Jesus’ followers will go on forever.

So, what do you think? Is God a Windows user or a Mac user?

...but it's a good tired.

2005-01-24T09:38:00.000-08:00

My family and I spent Friday and Saturday attending the ZOE Group worship conference in Fresno. We got back home at 1:00 Sunday morning, very tired, but very blessed. I just wanted to note a few of the blessings here.

We got to the College Church of Christ a bit late Friday morning. Nina and I, with John and Natalie in tow, greeted Eric Noah-Wilson, the guy who keeps the ZOE ministry ticking, in the foyer, and then walked over to the chapel, where worship was already starting. Walking in, Brandon was the first person I saw, and his smile greeted us warmly. He's a good guy, and such a gifted servant of God. We found space in the back, and and joined in the worship. Despite knowing only about a dozen people in the room of nearly a hundred people, it felt comfortable and welcoming to lift our voices and hearts with these other Jesus-followers.

In the Worship Minister's track, we found a corner in the back of the room with a sofa in it, and got the kids settled. Now I know what you're thinking. Taking kids into a conference, with all the talking to bore them, and continually having to shush them and get them to settle down. After all, they're only 8 and 5 years old! But the kids did great. We did have to shush them occasionally, and try to keep them from moving around too much. But for the most part, they were fine. It helped that the air of the session was very informal. I was struck by how blessed Nina and I are to have kids that we can trust to behave themselves in such situations.

Later, we had a quiet worship time, with three stations to participate in various activities, and quiet music playing, with readings showing on the screen. Great blessings in this time. First, my son, John was dragging me away from the folks I was talking with in the hallway beforehand, because he wanted to go in and do the different stations. He and Natalie were both excited about doing these things. I didn't know they'd even been listening to Brandon's explanation of the stations. The one that he and Natalie both enjoyed was the one with modeling clay, where the task was to sculpt something that represented your heart, given to God. John's first (of 11!) sculpture depicted the recent Indonesian tsunami. That's something which has been on his mind a lot lately. He really hurts for those affected. Natalie's creation depicted Jesus on the cross. It was so great to see them getting the point of the activity. At the prayer station, we were to write the names of people who needed God's touch on post-it notes and put them on the wall; then we were to pray over all the names as we looked over them. Natalie made sure to add my wife's grandmother, who has just gone from a 3-month hospital stay into a nursing home. At the meditation station, the scripture to read and meditate on was Psalm 51, which I had just read that morning. It has been on my mind ever since.

It was great to see our kids participating in these simple worship exercises. Brandon talked about how his Maddie still talks about a worship activity that they did several months ago at their church. The hands-on, tactical, illustrative things that have a lesson can be so powerful for children, helping them connect to God in meaningful ways that will secure their hearts to Him.

During the worship time, music was playing; Brandon had chosen some songs by Fernando Ortega, including two of my all-time favorites: "Jesus, King of Angels" and "Give Me Jesus." The latter always reminds me of Dr. Paul Piersall, who was the director of the Seaver College Singers when I was at Pepperdine. "Doc" was a great teacher, a gifted director, and a godly man who helped us see how what we were doing had an impact on the listeners, as well as on ourselves. We always ended our concerts with "Give Me Jesus," and I'll never forget the last concert we did with Doc, in Camarillo, CA in May of 1986. None of us got through that song without a few tears, and Doc himself broke down with us. He's now the chair of the Music Department at Abilene Christian University.

In the afternoon session, we made a new friend. Jack Weldon, a new member at the College Church, who asked if our kids might like to play with his son, Dakota, who was at home a few blocks away, and BORED! A little later, Dakota came in, and John and Natalie had a new buddy! They played the rest of the afternoon, and again on Saturday. Saturday evening, Jack and his wife Carrie invited the our kids to spend the evening at their house, watching movies and playing with their kids, while we went to the conference. It was such a blessing to meet some great people, and make new friends. Jack and Carrie own the Koffeeheads coffeehouse in Fresno, which, I understand, is quite popular there. I'll have to check it out the next time we're down there!

It was good to meet Chris "Sweet Tea" Lockhart, from Mobile, AL. He's the youth and family minister at the Port City Church of Christ, and we had met via WorshipForum.com, but it was good to share a few meals with him, and get to know him better.

It was also good to spend time with Owen and Dorothy Burgess from Bakersfield. They are dear friend whom we have known only about four years, but it seems as if we've been friends forever. They're very musically gifted, and approach and life with such genuine love for God. We've shared many meals with them -- most of them at Cracker Barrel in Nashville!

It was a great blessing to me to have so many people come up and say hello, after having seen my name and face on WorshipForum.com It's good to make connections with other people who are interested in studying and discussing worship. I met Ken McAlpin, the new music minister at the Campbell Church of Christ, former member of Acappella, and a really neat guy. I finally put the name with the face of Allen Gillespie, another WorshipForum friend. Chris Lindsey, of Watershed Worship and MediaShout was good to talk to about both of those endeavors.

As we left Saturday night, we were touched by all those who were concerned for our late-night drive home, with the possibility of fog, and knowing how tired we'd be. We made it home safely, with not too much fog, and with a strong sense of God's blessings on us.

No confessions, here, please!

2005-01-10T23:25:00.000-08:00

I've been doing more blog reading than blogging lately (obviously), and it's interesting to think about the very broad range in the kinds of blogs there are, and what people seem to want to do with them. For some, they're writing commentary on their fields of expertise. Others use their blog to rant and rave about politics, religion, culture, or the irritating people in their lives. There are a LOT of blogs that are outlets for peoples' silliness and nothing else.

And then some use them as an alternative to getting counseling, spilling their guts about everything going on in their lives, and the awful things in their lives that have messed them up so badly, and taking time to lay the blame on everyone they possibly can, especially their parents. I suppose they think they're just shouting into the void, but what if their parents actually found their blogs and started reading them? Their kids couldn't get mad, since it's not like the parents have picked the cheap lock on their diaries to dig into their kids' lives. You post it on the web, and who knows who can see it?

I just can't see using my blog as a diary and confessional, myself. Why people would lay out in front of God and everybody all of their problems and shortcomings is beyond me. The people who are closest to me know my shortcomings pretty darn well, and if they want to complain about me on their own blogs, more power to 'em. But I just can't bring myself to confess all of my iniquities and point the finger of blame at my parents.

'Cause I KNOW my mom reads my blog.

Not long after posting my Christmas wish list, I was talking with my mom on the phone, and she asked what I wanted for Christmas. I told her that I'd posted it on my blog, so instead of having to get a pen to write down the list, she could print it out from her computer. Just tryin' to be helpful, mom!

The next day she called me again. Her first words were, "Okay, now you've done it."
"Oh?" says I. "What this time?"
She replied, "I read your blog."
"Oh." I was furiously racking my brain to try and remember if I'd said something negative about her, or my father, or any of the multitude of mistakes they made in raising me, or if I had written some confession of some hither-to-unconfessed childhoot transgression.
Mom went on. "I read all of it."
"Aha."
"Then I followed some of the links to some of your friends' blogs."
"Oh!"
"And I read all of theirs."
By this time, I'm thinking, "What's a woman your age doing sitting in front of the computer, playing voyeur to other people's lives? Haven't you got anything better to do than that, like going out and trying to scrape up money to buy me the iPod I have on my wish list?!!!" But I didn't tell her that.

Though I guess I have now. Oops.

A member of CMA

2004-12-09T01:32:00.000-08:00

Hi, I'm Tim, and I'm a Christmas music addict. (Hi, Tim.)

It all started when a friend of mine had a wedding in December, and used a lot of Christmas music in the ceremony, most from Mannheim Steamroller's first Christmas album. He also gave each of his groomsmen, including me, a copy of a Canadian Brass Christmas album. That was it. I was hooked. I could hardly walk through a mall at Christmas time without picking up one or two CDs.

Sometimes I ask myself, just how many versions of "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" does one guy need? But usually, I just add to the collection, and try not to think about the possibility of encountering a bad version of "The First Noel."

I've got some taste, though: I've never even been tempted to pick up any of the "Very Special Christmas" CDs, nor have I touched any Motown or hip-hop Christmas albums.

I do, however, have all of the aforementioned Mannheim Steamroller Christmas albums. And the GRP Christmas Collection, volumes 1-3. Harry Connick, Jr.'s "When My Heart Finds Christmas" is a great one. Chicago 25 has one of the few renditions of "The Little Drummer Boy" that I don't just hate. David Phelps, a man whose voice I covet, blows me away with "O Holy Night" on his "Joy, Joy" album. The King's Singers, Rockapella, The Gaither Vocal Band, Bryan Duncan, Larry Carlton, Manhattan Transfer, and even the Trans-Siberian Orchestr all have a place in my special case full of over 50 holiday CDs.

My favorite at the moment is a new one, by my buddy Ike Graul and his cohorts in Blue Line Max. They're an a cappella sextet out of Portland, OR, and they have a smooth sound. I love their arrangement of "O Come, O Come Emmanuel" and "O Holy Night." Just the bomb!

I know what you're saying. You're saying, "Tim, you've got to stop. You can't go on like this." But, hey, it's not a real problem. I can quit anytime I want. I just don't want to right now.

God rest ye, merry gentlefolks.

But for the need of the proper equipment....

2004-12-02T09:09:00.000-08:00

I think I need an air compressor.

Not one of those portable, cigarette-lighter-powered tire inflator thingys... I've got one of those, and it doesn't cut it. Sure it's fine for tires, soccer balls, etc. It even has a flashlight built into it. Whee.

No, I need a real one, for using with air tools, like the noisy thingy they use at the tire changer places. Have you seen all the different tools you can attache to these things? Drills, saws, impact hammers, nailers, sanders, spray guns, die grinders,... it boggles the mind! Think of the possibilities! You could... nail stuff, and... saw stuff, and... grind dice! How does anyone ever live without these things?

Now, you may be saying, "Hey, Tim, what do you need one of those things for? You're not a mechanic, or a builder."

Well, sure, but don't you think that if I'd had one of these things, I could have been a mechanic, or builder, or... air-tool-using-tradesman-of-some-sort? I could be the best mechanic in the state, or a much-sought-after home builder, just me and my air compressor, and a truck full of every imaginable air tool there is!

But no, I'm just a computer geek, stay-at-home dad, and homeowner. Now I'll have to use the air compressor I need to get to blow the dust out of computers, inflate tires and soccer balls, clean out the gutters, dry laundry, dust the mantel, and startle the neighbors.

I only hope that being exposed to such tools will inspire my children to think about what the proper equipment can enable them to do with their lives.

Especially the part about startling the neighbors.

Oh, yeah....

2004-12-01T18:44:00.000-08:00

Forgot to put this on the list: A Firefox t-shirt; XXL in Navy.

I know, it seems very crass to put my Christmas wishlist on my blog for all the millions of people who read it across the planet to see. It's not as if I expect anyone to get any of this for me. It's more an issue of this whole blogging-for-the-purpose-of-being-transparent thing. I figure the folks who really care who I am (and I just know you call care, don't you?) will gain more insight into who I am by finding out what kind of things I might like to have.

Or what I will buy in January if I don't get from someone else for Christmas, as it may be.

Holidays

2004-11-26T07:20:00.000-08:00

I'm glad for the holidays to arrive. I love the extra time and attention we give to family, and the fun of seeing the kids with our relatives. We had thanksgiving with Nina's family, at her sister Suzy's. The Snowbabies were in fine form, keeping us all enthralled with their cooing and how they take everything in with their wide eyes. Nina and I tried out my mom's recipe for stuffing, and found a crock pot recipe for green bean casserole. The food was great, the time with family was great, and I even didn't mind losing at Train.

Now begins the Christmas season. I've already been out shopping this morning -- go figure. I woke up real early, and felt like going out in the early crowds, for some odd reason. The lines were a little long, but everyone was civil -- except for one guy who was too important to wait 10 minutes or so, and left swearing about it. I'm sure Santa's got a lump of coal with his name on it.

For some reason, I really enjoy being out in a busy mall during the height of Christmas shopping season. I enjoy it less if I have to find a gift for someone, to be honest. It's more fun to just wander through, watching all the people, hearing the Christmas Muzak, and just feeling superior for having done the important shopping early. And online.

But let's face it: The only shopping I really have to do is a present for Nina. Once I get that done, I'm good. Nina gets the ideas for gifts for everyone else, and though I may be the one to actually go buy them, she's done all the heavy lifting for the season. I don't have to wander aimlessly in the mall, wondering what I'm going to get parents, siblings, and kids. It's good to be part of an "and" (as in "Tim and Nina" on the gift tag).

Now, you may be wondering (and I'm sure you all are), "What does Tim want for Christmas?" I'm glad you asked. I present, for your edification, my Christmas wish list for 2004:

• An orchestral recording of Mussorgsky's "Pictures At An Exhibition."
• The Isao Tomita electronic recording of Mussorgsky's "Pictures At An Exhibition." (A favorite of mine from my Dad's collection when I was a kid.)
• A new toaster oven. (Yeah, I know it's a "shovel," but it would actually be nice to have!)
• The Star Wars Trilogy on DVD (widescreen edition)
• Any of the Hillsong worship CDs.
• One of those cool Braun shavers with the cleaner in the charging base. I might start shaving more than once a week!
• An iPod. Hey, a geek can dream, can't he?

Of course, I will be just as happy to get the usual shirts, socks, gag gifts, and the cards and letters from all of my friends and family.

Now I'm going to break out my case of Christmas CDs, and start my annual overdose of holiday music.

The little blog that wasn't

2004-11-10T23:01:00.000-08:00

I had a whole blog entry planned out the other evening. It was cool, it was fun, it was pithy. Unfortunately, it came to me as I was glumphing, and in the middle of it, I lost it.

Glumphing. You heard me. (Okay, you read me.) It's a word we've had in our family for about 25 years, and have shared along the way. When my older brother and I were in our teens, we were often asked by our mother to, "Go take the dry clothes out of the dryer, put the clothes that are in the washer into the dryer, and turn it on." Often, I tell you. It was the same litany, every time.

My older brother, Paul, in his ever-so-thoughtful way, realized that the amount of time our dear mother spent saying this could be used for more productive things, such as not giving us other stuff to do. So, one day, he said, "Hey, Mom, instead of saying, 'Go take the dry clothes out of the dryer, put the clothes that are in the washer into the dryer, and turn it on,' why don't you just say something simple, like.... 'glumph.'"

And so it stuck. (Not the part about not giving us other stuff to do, darn it.) We've used the word ever since, enduring the looks of tolerant concern from others, and loving the "us" feeling it gave us to use it.

We're not alone, apparently. A gent named Paul Dickson has collected over 700 of these so-called "family words" and written a book about them. I don't know if "glumph" is in it, but it ought to be. When you buy your copy, write it in the flyleaf.

As for that other, forgotten post... I'm going to go see if it fell into the laundry while I was glumphing.

A lesson not learned.

2004-10-21T21:00:00.000-07:00

When our son was a baby, I remember reading about the various stages of development as an infant becomes aware of their surroundings. One of the milestones is the concept of "object permanence." This is when a child realizes that just because their pacifier is not in view (rolled under the chair, covered up by their blankie, hidden in Daddy's pocket, etc.), it still exists.

My children failed to learn this lesson completely.

I have discovered this when getting them ready to leave the house for school in the morning, and have asked them to find any object -- their shoes, their library book, their jacket. They wander into a room, gaze blankly around for a moment, then say, "It's not here." After doing this in every room, they announce that they can't find it... it must be in the van. I go into the room in which the object is most likely to be, and start turning over the top layer or so of civilization, and soon find the object, usually under clothing.

Somehow, my wonderful children fail to realize that things can be under other things (unless, of course, it's one of them, hiding from me under their blankets, blowing their cover by giggling). What a blessing that must be, to think that your room is not THAT messy, simply because you only see the top layer of crud, and believe that there are no layers underneath!

If I followed that reasoning on my desk, I'd soon not be able to see my computer monitor. Not long after, I'd be killed in an avalanche of paper and junk.

On the plus side, the rescue workers would find my keys for me.

Macaroni and Cheese

2004-10-04T13:14:00.000-07:00

"If you're going to be good at something, make it something that elementary-aged school children like." You can quote me.

I'm good at macaroni and cheese. My kids say that I'm the best macaroni and cheese maker in the whole world. Granted, they haven't traveled far enough to know that for sure, but it's still something I take a certain amount of pride in. My kids like something I do.

What's my secret? It's simple. I use real butter, real milk, and follow the instructions on the Kraft Macaroni and Cheese box to the letter. Granted, we lost our 1/4-cup measure some time ago, but I can estimate the right amount in either the 1/3-cup or 1/2 cup measure (whichever is clean) pretty accurately. When the four-tablespoon mark on the wrapper around the stick of butter is somewhere off center, I can get the right amount every time -- even if one end of the stick has been used to butter toast or corn. I've got it down.

My kids say I'm the best dad in the world, too. Again, they haven't seen every dad in the world. If they did, I'm sure they'd see many that are better, who find it easier than I do to figure out the instructions for that job. If it was printed on a blue box, maybe I could find it. I'm guessing, though, that those instructions are harder because the end product is far more complex. I want to raise kids that can handle tricky situations, like the pot of busyness boiling over and making a mess in their lives. Or improvising when their lives run out of milk or butter at the wrong time. I want to raise kids who can show their own kids just how to stir things without spilling, so that all the flavors of life combine to make something good.

Okay, no great surprise that I stretch a food allegory a little too far, I guess. But my point is that I'd be a better dad if I would stick to the instructions a little better. I need to do a better job of reading my Bible and getting to know the Jesus that it reveals, and to be more like Him. Then I'll find it easier to raise good cooks.

I mean kids.

ZOE Conference, Day 3

2004-10-02T23:05:00.000-07:00

Okay, I haven't done such a great job of daily trip reports. I was so tired when I got back to my hotel last night that I just couldn't think well enough to write anything. So, I'll just blather some impressions and descriptions.

Brian McLaren speaks the truth of God. His talks this weekend have given me more hope for being able to change my understanding and pattern of being a Christian in a post-Christian world. I'm going to have to read his books soon, and start pushing my elders to do the same. I ordered the CDs of his five lessons, and will force them upon as many people as I can in the coming months.

Image: Judy Thomas, in the afterglow of Saturday night's worship, sitting and looking up at her son, Brandon, as he was being greeted and blessed by so many people who he has been a blessing to. Judy's face was filled with love and... pride? No, more like thankfulness. I got to meet this dear sister (though she knew my name from comments on various blogs, I think), and was touched by her graciousness and the way she radiates God's love.

James Wood posted on WorshipForum that his father-in-law had been killed in an auto accident recently. I found out today that I knew this man, and he and his wife had blessed my wife and I with their leadership in a marriage retreat we attended several years ago. James' mother-in-law was here, and I was so blessed to see her, though still grieving, so filled with the hope that comes from God.

Image: In the exercise room at the hotel where I'm staying, there is a phone on the wall.... about a foot off the floor. I suppose that it is for when you've hurt yourself exercising, and can't do more than crawl.

Image: Owen Burgess and I singing old hymns in twangy bluegrass style, while his daughter, Rebecca, writhes in anguish.

Clarissa Cox is about the sweetest person you could ever hope to meet! I feel like we've been friends for a long time, though we've only met this week, after having shared discussions on WorshipForum and blogs. I got a little more chance to talk with her tonight, and it's great to have another sister! Her husband, Rob, fairly radiates fun, and her kids are adorable!

I was struck by the ministry of several people that don't get much attention at these things.
- Eric Noah-Wilson, the executive director of the ZOE Group (i.e. he handles all the office stuff) works the table selling ZOE resources and other materials, and manages the logistics of the whole thing. He probably never gets to hear much of the worship or speaking. But he keeps giving. I praise God for his ministry in this way.
- The ZOE Group board members. These folks pray and plan all year for this conference and the other activities of the ministry, including New Wineskins Magazine. What they do is a blessing to a LOT of people, whether or not they know it. It's one of those things into which you can put a lot of time and effort, and not really know what the result is, other than the big events, the printed materials, etc. But what those things do for many of us who are responsible for worship at our churches is phenomenal.
- The spouses of worship ministers. They are married to dynamic, busy people who thrive on doing what they do. Sometimes, their spouses get ignored. But they are vital parts of the ministries of the men and women who direct worship week in, week out.

Things I love about visiting Nashville:
- Sweet Tea
- The prevalence of Dr. Pepper, my carbonated drink of choice
- Rolling hills for miles and miles.
- Great Christian music on the radio, including contemporary Christian, praise and worship, and Southern Gospel.
- Catfish, fried okra, and turnip greens. That's hard to find in California.

Things that bug me about visiting Nashville:
- Smoking in restaurants.
- No good Mexican food.

Obviously, the pros outweigh the cons!

Too tired to continue. Goodnight.

ZOE Conference, Day 1

2004-09-30T21:35:00.000-07:00

Actually, I'll start on Day 0, yesterday. Got up, got the kids ready and Nina and I took them to school. Then we went and had breakfast at Baker's Square before she took me to the airport. My first flight, from Oakland to Ontario, was very easy; only about 40 people on the flight, and I got a window seat on the over-wing exit row, with lots of leg room. It was my first time to see or ride on a 737-700, with the upturned wingtips. Nice plane. Second flight was a little more full, but I was in the "A" group, and headed to the back of the plane to get a row by myself. Snoozed a little, read a little, listened to music a little, and the flight went by reasonably quickly.

Got into Nashville, got my luggage, and went to the rental car counter. The young lady who gave me my key said that she'd already met four other folks coming to the conference!

Checked into the hotel, and got in touch with Owen Burgess to meet at Cracker Barrel for dinner. We had a good chat and great food. I stopped by the Harris Teeter store to get a few groceries, and headed back to the hotel. I called home and talked to Nina and the kids, and turned in as early as I could manage -- but didn't sleep so great.

I woke up this morning early, and decided to get out and about. I went driving down Franklin Pike to the town of Franklin, and looked around a little. One thing I love about this area, south of Nashville, is the history. Granted, it's not as aged as most of Europe, but there are lots of signs noting Civil War sites, buildings with dates that go back almost two hundred years. Not as much of that in my part of California.

Took a swing through the Cool Springs Galleria, and did a little shopping. Found a really colorful shirt to add to my wardrobe, and had a light lunch at Chik-Fil-A -- another thing I don't see much in California.

Then I headed back to my room to change, and went up to the Woodmont Hills church for the conference.

Ken Young and Hallal led worship first, and we heard from Brian McLaren, who challenged us to be sensitive to listen to people who are looking for God, instead of trying to talk them into our way of thinking about God. Instead of teaching people to be "churched," we need to let the Holy Spirit move them to become faithful, by listening and encouraging them to keep seeking through God's word.

In the Worship Leader's breakout track, Kip Long and a group of teens led us in praise, and we then heard from the spouses of two worship ministers about some of the challenges they face, and the blessings that have come through their spouses' ministries. In our small group, we reflected on some of the challenging things that Brian McLaren had said.

The dinner break took me and several folks I've gotten to know through WorshipForum.com to Cracker Barrel (where else?) for more great food, and more great conversation.

The evening worship was led by Randy Gill and one of the praise teams from Woodmont. Then we heard more of the continuing story from Brian McLaren.

This is a very bland report, I realize. The best part of the day has been hearing McLaren speak. He reaffirmed some things I think I knew intuitively, but haven't been able to articulate. He didn't give me the answers, but he's given me better questions. What do churches need to do to prepare for the next generation? How do we reach out to post-modern people from a construct that is very modern in its patterns and attitudes? How can we spur on their faith, and help them grown into a vital group of believers, when they don't want to "do church" the way we have for the past few generations? My guess is that churches as we know them will begin to decline rapidly in the next ten years or so, and something new will arise. Then the generation after that will probably build something a little different.

I have enjoyed meeting people face-to-face that I have known from the blog community and from WorshipForum. This is a great 'family reunion' for me.

Now to sleep.... I hope.

Ummm....

2004-09-25T06:52:00.000-07:00

Yes, it's been a whole month since posting. Not that I haven't tried; I had written copious amounts one day (two or three sentences) when my computer decided to be naughty, and it all went away. Between that and not having any ideas about what to write, I haven't really tried that much.

I've had a bunch of mental dust bunnies that have traipsed through my brain. Stuff that comes to mind, and won't go away until I bother someone else with them. For example:

"And now, a man who puts the 'goober' into 'gubernatorial, ...." .

Now if stuff like that isn't an incentive to NOT write, I don't know what is.

I've been much busier lately with computer support calls. I've got a little ad in a small local paper, and it's apparently getting noticed a lot. I've been out to clean up spyware, hookup DSL connections, setup new computers, upgrade some hardware, and to generally pontificate about what people ought to be doing with their computers. It's made me feel like I might be able to grow this side consulting bit into a viable job. I've come up with a flyer to advertise, and now I just need to find places that'll let me post it. A local coffee establishement comes to mind, as does the library and the adult school.

Speaking of the adult school, I've started another couple of classes there. Last year, I took a class on Macromedia Dreamweaver MX, a great web editor. Now I'm taking a class on Macromedia Flash MX, so I can learn to do cool animations on websites (though I have no artistic ability), and also a class on Web Design with Databases, in which I'm learning to use PHP and MySQL. The latter class is far more up my alley; programming and data structure design fits in my head a lot better than visual design.

Taking the classes is fun, if only for the opportunity to kibbutz with the other geeks (and some normal people) in the class. It's making me wonder if I couldn't find some opportunity to teach in such an environment. I think I'd prefer a junior college, where the people in the class might be a little more intent on learning something. A computer class at an adult school will generally have a broad range of people in classes, from those who say, "I want to learn this tool so I can get a promotion at work." to "I'm in this class to learn how to make a website for my kids' scout troop" to "I needed an excuse to get out of the house, now that Friends is off the air, and it's just too depressing to watch TV that night."

One thing that's frustrating about this particular school is that the computer systems are ancient, and the network needs some real help. I could fix the network for them, if they'd let me, but the school district's IT department is a union shop, and they're pretty protective of their turf. Seems odd for a school district in California to not accept any help they can get from volunteers, don't'cha think?

Nina is trudging along in her job, despite personality conflicts, micromanagement by administration, and a general sense that she'd rather be at home more. She's a trooper.

John is doing well in third grade. Part of his homework every day is to do some writing. At first he was struggling for things to write about (gee, that sounds familiar), but now he's got an ongoing story about an old west sheriff dealing with an ongoing series of bad guys. He's a very creative kid.

Natalie says she doesn't like kindergarten.... she LOVES it! She doesn't have homework, most days, so we try to get her working on some of the basics, while John is doing his homework. She's also practicing her R's -- she hasn't learned to say that letter very well yet. It may have something to do with her missing front teeth, I suppose. She's still working on it, with gusto sometimes. "Wwwwwwwrwwwwwrwww-ice! Wwwwwwwrwwwwwrwww-ocket!" So cute.

Next week, I'll be attending the ZOE Group conference in Nashville. I'm looking forward to being there again, even though Nina won't be with me this year. We've made a lot of friends there over the past few years, and have really gotten a lot out of the conference. This year, Brian McLaren will be speaking at the leadership conference. I've not had a chance to read his books, but I'm hoping to get a chance to do so soon. Mike Cope and Jeff Walling (Hey, Jeff! Where's YOUR blog?) will be keynoting the general conference. And of course, Brandon, Randy, Jeff Nelson, and others will lead worship times. I'm looking forward to seeing lots of the folks I've known online from WorshipForum and the blogging community, like Clarissa, Matt, Val, and others whose writings have been a real blessing.

Well, the day begins; we're going to my wife's company picnic today, so it's time to find the sunscreen and hats. Ah, fall in California!

Sand, surf, sun, and thrills.

2004-08-25T11:44:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I took my kids to the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk, along with some other folks from church. We played on the beach for a couple of hours, then got cleaned up to play on the Boardwalk. Here are a few images from the day:

- Natalie covered in wet sand over most of her body, with a biiiiiig smile on her face!
- John with a rifle from the shooting gallery... scary, very scary.
- Natalie bubbling with excitement for our first ride of the day.
- John and his buddy, Seth, laughing together.
- Natalie driving the "Space Race" bumper car -- very well, I might add!
- John laughing evilly as he crashed his bumper car into me multiple times. (He learned it from me, of course!)
- Natalie dragging me to the front car on the "Sea Dragon" roller coaster.
- John on every spinning, whirling, round-in-a-circle ride on the Boardwalk. Makes me dizzy thinking about it!
- Natalie snuggling up to me as we rode the ferris wheel together.
- John with chili on his face after a really gooey chili dog.
- Natalie with cotton candy all over her fingers and face.
- My buddy, Woody Square, ducking his head and closing his eyes as he and I rode the Giant Dipper roller coaster. I was whooping and hollering with my hands in the air, and he was trying to duck and cover!

My favorite moment of the day: While Natalie was eating her cotton candy, there was an adorable little girl -- maybe a year old -- staring longingly. She was so cute! She was looking up at this big (to her) girl with a big bag of cotton candy, watching with her mouth watering, licking her lips, just mesmerized by it. As her mother called her to move on with the rest of their family, the little darling sighed a great sigh, and walked away, still looking at Natalie.

Summer is winding down. School starts on Monday, and being on a routine will be good for the kids, and probably for me. But the sunny days of cotton candy and funnel cakes, birthday parties, trips to the Zoo, beach play in San Diego and Santa Cruz, rides at the Boardwalk and Marine World, and the four of us hanging out in the backyard, will all be a big part of the glue that holds our family close together.

I am blessed.

Curmudgeonry

2004-08-23T07:52:00.000-07:00

My sister-in-law just had twins on Saturday! We are all very excited for Suzy and her husband, Brian, since they have wanted kids for so long, and now they have two little bundles of joy! And they are completely adorable.

Whenever babies are born, one of the main topics of conversation over them is who they resemble. "Oh, look, she has your eyes." "She gets her nose from her granddad." "He sure does look like his dad." Blah, blah, blah.... Let's face it, you see what you want to see. Most babies look some thing more like a cross between Winston Churchill, Yoda, and an iguana. Sure, they're cute little iguanas, but they haven't grown into their skin yet! (Note: I generally don't mention that in front of the grandmothers of the new babies. They usually are pretty good at hiding the bodies of people who say disparaging things about their grandkids.)But babies do have a beauty unique among humanity. Their tiny fingers, their small voices, their amazing little faces... usually, they're cute enough to keep!

Of course, this makes us reminisce about when our own kids were born. John, our first, was reluctant to make his appearance. He was getting rather large, so the doctor strongly suggested inducing labor. The first day, it didn't go very far. Nina had contractions all day, but not enough to really get things going. They said, "Go home, get some rest, and call us in the morning." Well, we didn't wake up until nearly noon the next day, and then called, and they said, "Come in tomorrow morning." So the next day, we got up bright and early and got down to the hospital, started the process, and after several hours, a couple of scary moments, and absolutely no death threats (my wife is a saint!), John finally made his appearance -- he came out with his eyes open, trying to figure out what was so good about the outside world that we would make him leave his nice, safe, warm womb.

Eight years later, he still hates being away from his mother.

Natalie, on the other hand, was ready to make an appearance. Nina went into labor on a Friday evening, and after a long night of walking around, warm showers, and not even an angry glance that made me wish for a death threat, Natalie tumbled out on Saturday morning. Yes, "tumbled." The midwife who delivered her had to practically catch her as she did a little flip and twist as she came out! Then the doctor who checked her out had a little bit of difficulty getting her to breathe. I was holding my breath, myself, until finally, nearly a minute after making a dramatic entrance, our little drama queen registered her first remark of disdain for the treatment she was receiving.

Five years later, she still think the universe revolves around her. I'm not sure it doesn't, myself, at this point.

Next week, Natalie starts kindergarten, and John starts third grade. Nina will surely have a tear in her eye, as her baby goes off to school, and our son launches into new territory. She's such a mommy.

I'll ponder the meaning of this new stage over a quiet cup of coffee, alone in the house for a few hours each morning. Letting 'em grow up this far may actually end up paying off!

Now, back to the neices. I'm very much looking forward to being an uncle to these two little darlings. The job of an uncle, for those of you who don't know, is to be the odd duck that makes the parents look normal. When going to meet them for the first time, I made sure I was wearing not only a Hawaiian-print shirt, but one with hula girls on it. It will be my job later on to teach them the correct nonsense words, how to blow raspberries, and to overrreact even more than their father will to the presence of young suitors, but not by being threatening or intimidating. The uncles are to be embarrassing. "Wanna see their baby pictures? How about their first pimples? I've got video of them taking a bath when they were four!!" Then, later on, when they're more experience in dealing with me, they'll learn to say, "Oh, that's just Uncle Tim.... he's harmless."

Being an uncle is a challenge. But I take on this challenge willingly, and with great enthusiasm.

Channelling June Cleaver

2004-08-04T08:13:00.000-07:00

Today I woke up early, while my wife was getting ready for work. Having had a particularly bad day yesterday, I was pleased to wake without a headache, without any grouchiness, and without any ache in my lower back. So I got up, heated up some water to make my wife some tea, made her bacon and eggs, sat with her as she ate, kissed her goodbye as she left, and got a load of laundry in. In a few minutes, I'll be getting the kids fed as I unload the dishwasher and do a little tidying up.

I feel so domestic.

Later on, I'll be taking my daughter to Tot Time, and my son and I will be painting the new baseboards and crown molding we're putting up in our living room and dining room. Then, after getting the girl back from her class, we'll have lunch, do a second coat of paint, and work on cleaning up their rooms. This weekend, we're having their birthday party (he's 8 this coming Sunday, she just turned 5 this past Saturday), so we've got a lot of cleaning to do inside and out.

Is there any wonder I'm not blogging that much?

But tomorrow, I get a little break from my domesticated life -- LinuxWorld Expo! (Woo-Hoo!) I get to go over to San Francisco's Moscone Center for a computer show, and hang out with my best friend, John Haffner and a bunch of other geeks. It'll be a nice change from the housecleaning, and I'll come back with a bunch of demo CD-ROMs, pens, product literature, and all kinds of ideas for projects to do on my web server and the one at church.

With any luck, I'll get to one or two before the next round of home improvement starts!

Private things made public

2004-07-28T11:38:00.000-07:00

This is along the lines of Brandon Scott Thomas' recent rant about cel phone etiquette. He says it well.

Last night, my family went to a baseball game (A's against the Mariners, if you want to know), and while spending way too much time standing line for pizza and garlic fries, I discovered something: Not only do people think that talking on a cel phone seem to believe that the phone somehow shields them from being overheard, so does standing in line at a concession stand.

While waiting 25 minutes for pizza (and if I hadn't been getting it for my lovely daughter, I'd have skipped it!), I stood behind two brothers with their significant others, younger folks than I, as the two brothers discussed their relationship with, and the shortcomings of, their estranged father. Included in the conversation was a discussion of each of their relative drunkenness at the moment, the bad habits of their father, some stupid things they'd done in their relationships with their father and each other, and other embarassing details that I'd not have mentioned in front of complete strangers.

While waiting 45 minutes for garlic fries (and if they hadn't been garlic fries, I'd have skipped it!), two women whom I can only describe as "common-sense challenged" discussed the effects of hairstyles on how much attention -- and how much affection, to put it mildly -- they would get when meeting complete strangers in social settings (i.e. getting picked up by guys in bars). Also discussed were the relative merits and faults of several of their coworkers, including their appreciation for the appearance of some of the males in question, and their disdain for the success of one of the females at getting the attention of said males.

I wanted to shout, "Do you people realize that you sound really, really dumb talking like this in front of other people? Talk about the weather, your investment portfolio, technical aspects of your favorite hobby (cars, knitting, rock-climbing, whatever), or anything but personal details of your lives that reflect poorly on you!"

But I didn't. I was busy smelling the garlic, and keeping my 7-year-old son (8 in a few days) from having to hear the more salacious details, and keeping him entertained while standing in line for over an hour.

I think the A's won, but I missed most of the game.

On vacation

2004-07-24T01:08:00.000-07:00

Has it really been three weeks since I've posted? Yikes! I've not been overly busy, but there has been a real loud silence between my ears most days.

We are on a short vacation right now. We left home Monday afternoon and drove to San Diego, where my parents live with my grandmother Charlene Watson. She's a great lady, and we love to be here in her home. Now that Mom and Dad are here, too, it's an even greater treat to be here.

Granddad "Bud" Watson built this house... rather, he put it together. It had been part of a government building somewhere in town, and he had it moved to this lot in Bay Park, and made it into a small house for him, his wife, and their two young daughters. That was in the late '40s. They made some additions over the years, with a master bedroom and bathroom, larger kitchen, and a "prophet's chamber" on the patio with its own bathroom. With only a few breaks, my grandmother has lived here ever since.

Granddad died 7 years ago, and he is missed, but he's also very much present in this house. The living room has held so many people through the years, in large and small numbers. In this house, so many have found wise counsel, tender compassion, and a love strong enough to tell even the most difficult truths. In the adjacent dining room, so many wonderful meals have been shared with family, friends, and people in need. In the kitchen, the table has known more games of spades, forty-two, and Scrabble than most homes in America! The bedrooms have heard so many bedtime stories and prayers of my mother and aunt, my brothers and I and our cousins, and now of my own children and my neice. The "prophet's chamber" on the patio has hosted many young men looking for work as preachers, people on the move, and visiting friends. The yard has been the scene of so many playtimes, you couldn't count all the games played.

This house is full of love. It's so wonderful to see my own kids playing here as I did. There are so many objects in the house that I can remember from my childhood: the cookie jar, which is always filled whenever a grandchild comes to visit; the unique lamps in the living room -- one of which I broke part of years ago, but it is still in use; the secretary desk in my grandmother's room; the clock my mother made for my grandparents nearly 30 years ago;... There are so many memories in this place and in these objects.

My granparents passed on their legacy of faith to their daughters, and that has been passed on to their children. My grandmother worries that we haven't kept the faith -- not everone does church the way she approves of, and some even attend with other denominations. But she still loves us, and loves to have us here, loves to beat us at Scrabble, and play silly games with the kids. She and my grandfather showed us how to love our families. I pray that I have learned that lesson well enough for my kids to be able to pass it on to their kids.

Forming manageable addictions

2004-07-03T10:35:00.000-07:00

It seems to be the nature of humanity, I think, to become addicted to something. For some, it's mind-altering substances, for others, it's mind-numbing acctivities (e.g. soap operas or video games), and for others, it's fashion and style. For me, it's caffeine. And the Internet. And science fiction. And music. And Hawaiian shirts.

I think it's the job of every parent to help their children avoid addictions that are harmful. Teach them the dangers of drugs and bad sitcoms. Show them how to be reliant on God, not on other people's opinions of what's trendy or cool or "phat." Get them hooked on good stuff, like good music (classical, '80s stadium rock, and bluegrass, for example), good science fiction (the Star Trek franchise shows, Star Wars, and Stargate SG-1), and veggies (if I have to tell you which ones of these, you need to visit the produce section of your local grocer and ask for samples).

Addict 'em to something that won't kill 'em or rot their brains.

In that interest, I'd like to propose to all those who run coffee establishments the following: The Training Mocha (TM) series. It starts with a kid's hot chocolate with a half-shot of decaf coffee, then graduates up by adding incremental amounts of caffeinated coffee. By the time they're in high school, they're up to full strength.

I'm just doing my part to help make the world a better place. You're welcome.

Funerals

2004-07-02T08:42:00.000-07:00

This weekend, we'll be singing at the funeral of a gentleman who's been at our church for years. He was a very thoughtful man, and great encourager to the praise team. He never liked using anything but the King James bible, but he never insisted others do the same.

I'm always a bit torn when singing at funerals. Part of me wants to sing sedate, hopeful songs, to respect the feelings of the family. Another part of me wants to sing enthusiastic, victorious songs, to celebrate that one of our brothers or sisters has completed their race! At the request of the widow, though, we'll be singing some of these upbeat songs, including one in which we use vocal percussion. It will be a good thing, I think.

Oh, yes... she also requested that we sing "The Lord's Prayer," the arrangement that gave me all the nerves last week. Sheesh... can't a guy get a break?!!!

Settled down

2004-06-28T13:43:00.000-07:00

Well, the song went just fine. There were a few little imperfections, and I'd love to have a chance to do it again, when the praise team is more familiar with it, so we can put more feeling and energy into it. But all in all, it went well.

The strange thing for me was the nerves about it. I'm not used to that; I usually am pretty well composed about such things, but yesterday I was almost jumpy -- and with much less caffeine than usual! My wife and members of our praise team were surprised to see me nervous, too.

Nothing else to say today, just wanted to note that I survived the bout of nerves, and even managed to come away without any emotional scars.

Nerves...

2004-06-27T08:17:00.000-07:00

I'm a little nervous this morning, and I don't like it.

Later on this morning, I'll be leading our praise team at church, and we'll be singing an arrangement of "The Lord's Prayer" which I put together. At our rehearsal on Friday night, it was a bit... tenuous. We'll go over it again this morning, but I'm afraid I've written something out that is not very singable. So I'm nervous it'll sound bad.

Now that sounds normal. I, however, am not the kind of person to be nervous about such things. I don't know how to process worry, so I generally don't. This morning, though, I'm nervous about it. I can't get the song out of my head, nor can I keep from trying to re-arrange it mentally, so that it'll be easier for the praise team to sing. I want to re-do the ending to make it more interesting, more moving.

But that's not the kind of thing you want to do on a Sunday morning, just before singing it.

Lord, the song is for you. Receive our praise, even if it sounds bad.

She got me again!

2004-06-13T07:55:00.000-07:00

Eight days after my 30th birthday, my family was getting together at our church building. We had a few folks in from out of town, and my wife's relatives were joining us, so having everyone at our little apartment behind my mother-in-law's house wasn't possible. As we drove up to the building, Nina said, "I need you to close your eyes, because I've got a little surprise for you." Good thing she was driving. I closed my eyes, like a good little husband, and she parked, and escorted me into our fellowship hall, where about 60 people shouted "Surprise!" She had invited a horde of friends to throw me a surprise party. People I worked with, people I had known for years from various places, lots of church folks... it was a wonderful time!

Yesterday, two days after my 40th birthday, we were driving to our church building. Nina was driving again -- I had a little bit of a headache. We were going (I had been led to believe) to a shared birthday get-together for me, our minister, and another guy at our church. We've been doing this for the past three or four years. As we got off the freeway, Nina said, "Okay, the deal is that you guys aren't supposed to see the decorations outside until you see the decorations inside, so could you close your eyes?"

WARNING! WARNING! --sirens going off in my head --flashing lights

Several little things from the past little while suddenly began to add up.

Nina took the kids with her to run errands earlier in the day -- that's a dangerous thing, considering how squirrely they can be sometimes.
She had kept me busy making cookies for the party, and working around the house.
She got out the video of to 30th birthday party the other night, and we were all watching it. She commented, "It would be good to get together with all our friends again."
She had been making phone calls behind closed doors.
A letter had shown up at church a few weeks back, addressed to Nina, in an envelope from the church where Brandon Scott Thomas ministers. Thinking it had something to do with the ZOE worship conference, or some other event, I opened it to find a nice birthday wish from Brandon. I had told him at the Pepperdine Lectures that I was sneaking up on 40 years old, and I thought it was just a thoughtful note from a friend, who didn't know exactly when my birthday was. He and Nina both covered this one up pretty well.

So, once again, to a shout of, "SURPRISE!" I walked into a room filled with friends from all over, former coworkers, and family. Though I had just moments before realized that a surprise was imminent, seeing who was there was a great, fun surprise.

There was lots of teasing about how old I'm getting (especially from those who are older than me), great food from our favorite Italian restaurant, and the noise of conversation and laughter. It was great! The best gift was a binder with birthday wishes and notes from many of my friends (that's what the note from Brandon was for). Some were short and sweet, others were longer and very emotional, and some were just silly! It's the best gift I've ever received.

As I told the assembled throng yesterday, I expect that Nina will do this again for my 50th birthday, and my 60th... but I'll be on to her by the time I turn 70!

Here's another one...

2004-06-12T10:16:00.000-07:00

Natalie woke up today as John was in the bath. He heard her voice, and called out, "Natalie, I'm taking a bath!"

Natalie replied, "I know. I heard you swoosheling."

(Not sure of the spelling on swoosheling; I couldn't find it on dictionary.com.)

My Adorable Daughter

2004-06-11T17:15:00.000-07:00

Okay, here's a "my kid is cuter than your kid" story.

Quite often, I don't shave most of the week (being a stay-at-home dad has its advantages), usually cleaning up in time for Sunday mornings. My daughter Natalie, who will be five at the end of July, came in to where I was laying down a little while ago, taking a break. She snuggled up close, and said, "Daddy, you and Mommy keep me warm!" Then she turned to kiss my cheek, and said, "OW!" because of my whiskers.

She said, "Daddy, those whiskers are your kiss protection!"

TOO CUTE!

On being 40 years old

2004-06-10T11:06:00.000-07:00

Today is my 40th birthday. In some respects, that's hard to grasp. I look back on my life, and it doesn't seem that long. But then again, I guess it feels exactly that long, because that's how long it's been. I pretty much live each day as it comes (which is a polite way of saying that I'm a lousy planner), so I don't spend a lot of time mulling over the events of my life.

I've actually got a pretty poor memory for events and conversations in my life, but a decent memory of facts and concepts that I've learned. In a way, my life seems like a blur of images, impressions, and ideas, puncutated by a few clear memories. Most of the clear memories are negative, like embarassments and foolish things I've done. I wish I could clear those off the shelves in my mind and replace them with more positive, fun things.

There are some really great things that I do remember clearly, though.

My first glimpse of my wife, Nina, walking down the aisle on our wedding day.
Meeting Nina for the first time, several years before we started dating.
The moments our children were born.
My interviews for my first I.T. position (really, great, fun conversations with the supervisors in the department, Linda Waldon and Cindy Sun.
Learning to lead singing at age 9, from T.J. Jones and my dad, at the Dublin Church of Christ.
Touring the home we would soon buy in 1996.
My first Promise Keepers, in Anaheim, 1994 (a great road trip with my best friend, John Haffner; also had my first In-n-Out Burger meal on that trip!)
The first devotional on the beach back at school, in fall of 1984; the water was warm, the moon was bright, and afterward, three cars full of us took off for a late-night run to Tommy's in Sepulveda.
The note that Dr. Tom Olbricht wrote on a paper I had written for his Biblical Theology class in the Pepperdine extension program I did in '91-'92; it said, "Good, clear writing style." Coming from him, that was a real compliment!
The surprise 30th birthday party Nina threw for me ten years ago, with more friends there than I realized I had!
Waking up on my 40th birthday (okay, it was only this morning, but I'll take the memories I can get!)
My granddad, Bud Watson, trying to bounce our son, John, on his knee just a month or so before he passed away. It was difficult for him, since he had been fighting with Parkinson's Disease for nearly ten years at the time. He never let it stop him from trying.
My first time playing 18 holes of golf, again with Granddad Watson. I hit a 103. I've never played that well since!
...and many, many more....

My 40 years have been filled with blessings. Not everything has gone the way I'd have liked, but it is impossible to look at my life without recognizing that God has been with me, and has given me much to be thankful for... and much with which to bless others.

I found this on Mark Lowry's website this morning. Audrey Hepburn was once asked to share her beauty tips, and she wrote this in response:
• For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.
• For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.
• For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.
• For beautiful hair, let a child run his/her fingers through it once a day.
• For poise, walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone.
• People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed; never throw out anyone.
• Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you will find one at the end of each of your arms. As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands; one for helping yourself, and the other for helping others.

I wish I could write like that!

Just a thought...

2004-06-06T23:32:00.000-07:00

Does it occur to anyone else that when Jesus stood up in the boat and said, "Peace... Be still," he was probably speaking just as much to the agitated disciples in the boat as to the agitated wind and water outside the boat? They were in what looked like a dire situation, true; the water was filling up the boat, and they thought they'd drown, and all the while, Jesus was sleeping. (One wonders how Jesus slept in that kind of storm, but that's beside the point -- or is it?) Jesus woke up and took care of the storm. You'd think that would calm the disciples down, too, but according to Mark, they were now agitated, wondering just who Jesus really was, since he seemed to have control over the elements.

Eventually, they got it, and knew that Jesus was not only the one who could calm the storm, but the one who moves the elements to whip up storms in the first place. His power went far beyond that storm, and far beyond their fears. One wonders, though, what would have happened if they'd understood, and rode out the storm calmly, knowing that they were safe, because Jesus was in the boat with them.

Now if I could only get that through my head, I'd have something. Jesus not only has the power and authority to calm down the messes I find myself in, he has the power and authority to make me ride out the storm, even when it looks like I'm about to go down. After all, he promised he'd be with me.

Little league, little minds...

2004-06-05T20:58:00.000-07:00

After two years in T-ball, we finally experienced our first "ugly parents" incident.

T-ball is such fun; the kids are so small, some very uncoordinated, but all of them excited about playing, though not always playing ball. Digging in the dirt and twirling were common activities during games this year. All the parents are glad for the kids to try, and there generally isn't much pressure on the kids to perform. We had one exception this year, a dad who seemed to think that his son's future depended on every play. But for the most part, he was easy to deal with.

Then came the last night of our team's season, and there was a scheduling mixup. The field our team was supposed to play on was also scheduled to hold a game by teams in the farms division. The T-ball-ers were shifted to the T-ball field, since nobody seemed to be playing there. But a few minutes later, the teams scheduled for the T-ball field began to arrive -- apparently the National League games start a half hour later. One lady got very irate and pushy, demanding that we get off of "their" field.

Our coaches were mostly cool about it, but they got kinda pushy when working out the eventual solution (our teams were there first, so the farm teams were bumped). At some point, it stoped being about the kids' enjoyment and learning teamwork, and began to have more to do with the egos of the coaches and parents. This was just T-ball! They don't count runs, outs, errors, and everone gets a turn to bat and play the different positions! Our kids were more excited about the pizza party scheduled for after the game than the game itself!

Maybe I'm just not competitive enough for this. I don't understand why there even has to be National and American leagues in little league, much less in T-ball. Does anyone have a kids baseball league that is just about playing a game and getting some exercise, and not about pushy parents creating pushy kids?

Just who am I, anyway?

2004-06-03T06:46:00.000-07:00

For those of you who don't know who I am, I thought I'd post a little primer about me.

I'm a stay-at-home dad. I didn't start out that way. I was a computer geek in the Silly-con Valley for 14 years, fresh out of a Math/Computer Science degree at Pepperdine. My job went bye-bye in 2001, as so many others did. My wife stepped in to pick up her Pharmacy career, and I've been "Mr. Mom" since. I'm not exactly the domestic type, but according to my kids, I make the best macaroni and cheese in the world!

I'm an occasional computer consultant. Every now and then, I get out of the house to go fix someone else's computers, instead of staying home to break my own. I'm trying to build up a clientele, and eventually, this may turn into a real job. Who knows?

I'm a music nut. When I was growing up, my dad played classical music all the time, and also showed a fondness for folk music. My mom went through a country music phase when I was young, and I still bear the scars. Those things have affected my musical tastes through my life. My music collection includes rock (if it's got good musical sensibilities), classical, folk, vocal, a cappella, musicals, jazz, a few country albums (mostly Chet Atkins), southern gospel, contemporary Christian, and worship music. I also have a lot of novelty music, and am an unabashed "Weird Al" Yankovic fan!

I'm a Christ-follower. Despite my failings, and despite the hypocrisy that my life sometimes shows, I love the Lord. I want to act like the kind of person that God wants me to be, so that people know that He is a loving God, He's a great God who deserves to be worshipped, and He calls everyone to get close to Him.

I'm a church-going Christian. Despite the fact that organized religion spends entirely too much time propogating itself instead of serving the world as Jesus would, I love the church that I attend. There are lots of good folks there who also love God, and are giving their lives in service to Him.

I'm a worship leader. I've done a fair amount of singing in my life, and nothing is quite so fulfilling as singing to lead worship. I think worship is why God gave me the ability to sing well, and I'm glad to be in a church where I can use that gift nearly every Sunday.

Is that all I am? Probably not, but that's all I can think of to write about today. to sum it up, though, allow me to borrow a line from "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy..."

I'm just this guy, you know.

Never trust anyone who doesn't drink coffee...

2004-05-21T07:40:00.000-07:00

Remember the scene in "You've Got Mail" where Tom Hanks bemoans the Starbucks experience?

The whole purpose of places like Starbucks is for people with no decision-making ability whatsoever to make six decisions just to buy one cup of coffee. Short, tall, light, dark, caf, decaf, low-fat, non-fat, etc. So people who don't know what... they're doing or who on earth they are can, for only $2.95, get not just a cup of coffee but an absolutely defining sense of self: Tall. Decaf. Cappuccino.

I used to be able to laugh at that. When I first slunk into a Starbucks, it was a nerve-wracking experience. Everyone else in there seemed very sure of what they wanted, using all the right codewords -- half-caf, no foam, quad shot, venti -- and there I was, just trying to figure out what "macchiato" was!

I timidly said, "Um... a mocha."

"What size, sir?" barked the barrista -- trained by the company into that professionally indifferent, yet somehow intimidating bearing so common among them. Maybe it's the espresso fumes.

"Um... medium."

"Grande? We've got tall, grande, and venti."

"Tall, then." That seemed like it would be larger -- I knew I didn't want a short. Especially since I couldn't find it on the menu.

Then I went over to wait with the four or five other customers, listening as their drinks were served, and they all seemed to require more adjectives than the average cereal commercial. It's an awkward wait, even to this day, as you stand there, watching like a hawk, making sure nobody else gets your drink by accident (or intent!), leaving you to have to bother the barrista yet again. "Um, did you already make my triple venti carmel macchiato no-foam with whip add hazelnut?" Usually they haven't yet.

But now I'm a much more seasoned caffeine addict. I can casually breeze in, order my quad-grande-soy-white-mocha-no-whip-extra-hot, almost never thinking about whether I'm buying fancy coffee because I actually like coffee, or do I just like being something of a coffee snob? It isn't all attitude, though. I just happen to like a little extra caffeine (quad), can't stand the taste of hot milk (hence the soy milk), don't want the whipped cream taking up the room that could be used for more coffee (no-whip), and like it to be hot for more than two minutes (exra hot). It's all reasonable, a consequence of the years of coffee-drinking experience I've had.

Does anyone else think of C.S. Lewis' discussion of the "gluttony of delicacy" when they order a fancy coffee drink at more than 30 cents an ounce?

Not that I'm giving it up, mind you. I'm just asking. Oh, that reminds me, I need to put more money on my Starbucks card before taking my daughter to gymnastics today. I want an espresso brownie with my cup today.

Okay, lets' be honest here...

2004-05-18T08:31:00.000-07:00

...the only reason a person blogs is because their ego succumbs to peer pressure. I'm a big enough man to admit that.

I've been told that I'm a good writer -- and not just by my ego's alternate personalities, either. Truth is, a friend once told me that I should write a book. I'm guessing it's because the letters I would write were nearly long enough to be books in themselves. My response was that I knew I had the skills, but I didn't have any ideas. If you write a book, it ought to be about something, don't you think?

Well, thanks to the internet and the geek-cultural thing that is blogging, I've found a form of expression that will let me use my writing skills, without any expectation of having relevant content. At least, from what I've seen of most blogging, such things as relevance, continuity, and social significance are not required.

For that matter, neither are proper grammar and correct spelling, but there are some standards I refuse to lower.

You wanna know why I started this blog? Really? I was only going to post a comment on Mike Cope's blog, and in order to do so I had to register, and that took me into creating a blog of my own. "What the heck," says I, "I'll blather. It's not like I have to tell anyone it's there!"

If you found this, don't tell anyone. It'll be our little secret. At least until my ego gets the best of me. Again.