It Was Only a Little Gas

In fourteen years of marriage, I think we have only been a two-car family for a grand total of three of those years. We even made it through our first year in Seattle with one vehicle. But, with Jean working, the kids needing to be taken to and picked up from school, and with me being in school and completing inspections, one vehicle wasn't cutting it. We found that out last week. Even if I didn't have inspections the bus isn't much of an option for me––as it takes about an hour to get home, and I want to maximize being home as long as I can before the kids go to bed. Jean picking me up after class is often a logistics nightmare, especially with the kids. So, all that to say, we needed a second car.

I found a car on Craig's List that seemed to fit what I needed. Low cost, yet well-maintained. I pulled the car fax on it and though it was 18 years old, it was a single-owner car with a clean history, and a mechanical history of always being routinely serviced at the dealership. So, after mountain biking with Jean Friday morning [which is TOTALLY a whole post in itself], we went over to take it for a test drive. It was clean inside and out. The guy at the used car place pulled it out for us and said told us that it was low on gas and that if we didn't feel comfortable to fill it up and just let him know.

We took it for a drive, filled it up, drove some more, and came back. It was perfect for what we needed. I told the guy that I had seen it advertised on Craig's List for $XX.XX, and wondered how low he would be able to go including tax, title, and license. He said with tax, title and license it would cost $300 more than what it was listed for. He asked what we were looking to spend. I said that we were looking to spend $300-$400 less, including tax, title, and license, than it was listed for (prior to them adding tax, title, and license)––so there was about a $600 gap between us. He called the owner, and then said that the lowest he could come down is $200. He welcomed us to stay and talk to the used car dealership owner, who would be there in 5-10 minutes if we would like. We did.

During our wait, Jean and I decided that we would increase our highest offer by $100. When the used car dealership owner arrived he asked how he could help. I told him that we were interested in buying the 1991 Toyota Camry. He said, "Buy, or Steal?" It was an intense conversation. And, less than pleasant. We left holding our ground, and being okay that we held to what our budget said we could do.

About 5 minutes into our drive home Jean said, "We filled up the car." And I said, "I totally forgot to tell him that." She responded, "It's okay. It isn't worth it to go back." Just then, the man that I had talked with originally called me. He said, "When I was parking the car I noticed you filled up the car. I talked with the owner and because you filled it up he wants to work with you. We can come down $50 from our previous price." There was basically a $250 difference between their lowest and ours. I told him that I couldn't. He asked if we could pay our price now, and he would give us 45 days to pay the remainder. I told him that is all that I could afford. That I am in graduate school and we are on a budget. That my budget 45 days from now doesn't allow for an extra $250. He said that he would continue to talk with the owner and would call me back.

Well, he called back and offered a price that was just $100 difference higher than my highest price. I told him that I would talk with my wife and call him back. I talked with Jean. I said that I was okay paying $100 more, but if she wasn't it was okay. That we just needed to be in agreement. I would be okay not getting the car.

But, she was still left with the weight of being the one to decide. She told me that she didn't like having to be the one having to make the final decision. She was right. I went into the bedroom where I thought Jean couldn't hear and said, "I just can't. I know that $100 isn't a lot of money and $100 isn't the issue. My wife and I had a set amount and I want to honor that. My relationship with her is what matters most. Again, I don't mean any disrespect to you as it is only $100. I just want to honor my wife in keeping to what she and I had decided on." The guy responded, "The owner feels really bad that you filled up the car. Come down and you can buy it for your price."

Jean had only heard my side of the conversation. She was all melty. Then, I explained to her that they offered it to us at the price she and I had set. She was floored.

So, when we went to go sign the ownership documents the used car dealer owner asked, "So why did you fill it up?" I explained that the other gentleman had said to put gas in it if I didn't feel comfortable driving it. [I didn't want to get the guy in trouble, but Jean and both heard, "Fill it up."] He said that when someone owns a car they naturally fill it up. But, when it is not theirs, they don't. So, because I filled it up he felt like he should sell it to me. I am not sure if he felt that because I filled it up it was an omen or that "I was meant to have it," but that is why he sold it to me––because I filled it with gas. I would rather think that it was because I honored Jean.

The End of Summer

The end of summer has come. School resumes on Monday for me, and on Tuesday for the kids. I have had roughly six weeks off from school, but it has been busy.

Long before summer classes were over, we were preparing for our move into our new place. The official move date was 1 week after my classes were completed. It is a sweet place with great neighbors. Jean's mom flew in for 11 days to help us settle and to help Jean with preparing meals that were then frozen to help for the busyness of September.

We made a second trip to Denny Creek––the natural water slide. Refreshing!

The hottest week of the summer came while we were getting settled. Just one week at our new place we had the neighborhood kids over to watch "Polar Express" in our front yard. I hooked up my computer and large monitor, along with speakers to help cool us all off.

I got to mountain bike with Sam.

We scored two free tickets, and I took Alina to her first Mariners game. They treated her well. They gave her a baseball card, a certificate showing the date of her first game with Dad, and a pennant to color.

We took a family backpacking trip to Hyas Lake. It was a great trip!

Several manufactured home inspections!

And, I got to take Sam to his first NFL game. Our neighbor has season tickets to the Seahawks. After he found out Sam's favorite team is the Broncos, Jeff gave us his pre-season tickets for the Seahawks/Broncos game.

We also hosted a couple from Michigan for a week while they looked for a place to live. They moved out so that she could attend MHGS in the fall. It was cool to have them around. To have good conversation, and to encourage them in the journey into the unknown as a newlywed couple newly enveloped into the unfamiliarity of Seattle, and of Grad School. Wow. We felt like veterans.

And now . . . School begins again. But, the FUN isn't over. Jean and I will both have Fridays off together, and the kids will be in school. While the weather holds we will be taking some mountain biking trips, along with other excursions. And, on Saturdays, EdVenture Saturdays will continue.

Looking forward to a great term at school, and growing in relationship with Jean, Sam, Alina, with friends and with new neighbors.

Funny Quote

Alina quote of the Day: "I'm note funny. I'm adorable."

Vacation. Bible. School.

Jean and her beautifully brilliant staff of volunteers are leading VBS next week. Though our church doesn't, we both have been surprised at the number of churches in the area that charge for kids to come to VBS. I would say that roughly 50% of the churches that have a Vacation Bible School charge – and the fee ranges from $10 to $50 for the week.

Is this just a Pacific Northwest thing or a hard economic times thing? Either way, it feels wrong.

Though I am sure that some may argue, "Well, we're basically providing childcare," but isn't it more than that? Aren't you sharing life, the life giving power of Christ, during that week? I think the thing that gets me most is that those that may come from homes where this life is needed most, may be prohibited from coming because of the monetary cost.

Failing

Success Comes from Failing – from Eric Bryant's blog.

You Matter

I hope you matter...

from Seth Godin's blog

• When you love the work you do and the people you do it with, you matter.
• When you are so gracious and generous and aware that you think of other people before yourself, you matter.
• When you leave the world a better place than you found it, you matter.
• When you continue to raise the bar on what you do and how you do it, you matter.
• When you teach and forgive and teach more before you rush to judge and demean, you matter.
• When you touch the people in your life through your actions (and your words), you matter.
• When kids grow up wanting to be you, you matter.
• When you see the world as it is, but insist on making it more like it could be, you matter.
• When you inspire a Nobel prize winner or a slum dweller, you matter.
• When the room brightens when you walk in, you matter.
• And when the legacy you leave behind lasts for hours, days or a lifetime, you matter.

The Meaning of June 15 on Me

Four years ago today, at nearly this very minute, my dad passed away from cancer. An hour later, I stepped off the plane and turned on my cell phone and heard the news. An hour after that I arrived at the place where he lived to say goodbye to his body one last time.

And, thinking back on this makes my mind go in so many different directions.
• Cancer sucks. It has claimed my father. It has claimed both of my grandmothers. For the second year in a row I find myself praying for favorite aunt, and am thankful when the tests on her lumps come back as being benign.
• Would my life be different if my dad was still here? My life has changed so very much in the last four years. Nearly nothing is the same.
• Would my dad be different if he were still here? It was dying that caused his repentance.
• It is hard to walk through a death of a parent alone. When friends don't know how to walk through it with me so they don't at all. When I am not even sure how to walk through it myself.
• So much of my life was catapulted by who my dad was, and who he was not.
• I am glad who my dad came to be in the last 10 days of his life.
• Who my dad came to be still doesn't erase the harm he inflicted on me, or my mom, or his sisters, or his friends, or other women or illegitimate children. There is a trail of destruction.

I can only name the affects his life and his death have had on me. I can't speak that for anyone else, I can only speak it through the lens of how I view life. His life and his death created me. Created half of my physical DNA. Shaped my fears, gave me my scars. And, somehow his life and his death gave me my passion. A passion to try and love Jean, to love my kids, to love my mom, to love my friends, to love my enemies, to love myself. Things I am not sure my dad knew how to do well. But his life and his death have shaped my passions. Passions to learn how to be me.

I Am Glad I Stopped

Last Saturday Sam and I went to go get the van for the ladies after dinner. Coming out of the coffee shop was a student from MHGS. She didn't know me, but boy did I know her. We were in a class this summer together. And, whenever she spoke, anger spewed from her mouth. No matter what anyone would say, she always had an angry word for them. On the last day of class, we were to go around giving people hugs and saying "thank you" if they had impacted us. No one seemed to approach her on that day. And, she eventually left the room without anyone stopping her. Her anger was deep and it stopped people from really engaging her. I certainly wasn't going to. She was too angry.

So, Saturday evening I could have kept walking. But, as she sat down on the bench I stopped and said, "Don't you go to Mars Hill?" "Mars Hill Graduate School?" she asked. "Yes." We ended up having a very long conversation. Convesation about the class, church, life. It was good. She thanked me for stopping and talking. She had said that she feared she had burned a lot of bridges with people she would have to continue being in school with for years to come because of her attitude in class. I reached out my hand in friendship, and she accepted it.

Sometimes angry people can be so repulsive that you don't want to engage them. Sometimes they shouldn't be engaged because trying to love them in that moment would only bring more anger. But, second opportunities to show love and forgiveness are sweet.

My Mom

There are many sites on the internet with funny things moms have said. My mom is here visiting with us, and yesterday she said a funny thing.

We were sitting in the van in front of church and I texted Jean to let her know we were there. I asked my mom if she had text messaging service on her cell phone. She said that text service is available to her, but she'd have to pay for it for using it. Then she said, "The only reason I have it is in case I get locked in a [car] trunk. I figured that it would be good to have in case I needed to contact someone quietly."

I just can't imagine my mom getting abducted by the mob and thrown into a trunk because she squealed on Tony "Knuckles" Dofanzo.

We Need Jerks

We Need Jerks.

Tears

The best part of my education so far has been the requirement to see a therapist.

When I've seen counselors at other points in my life I went in with the attitude of "Let's get this resolved as soon as possible so that I can be 'fixed,' so that I can be seen as normal."

As part of my schooling all MACP students are required to be in counseling for a minimum of 40 hours. At first, my reaction to this requirement was, "Really??? Are you kidding me??? I just want to get through the program. I don't need this!!" And, especially since this was the first year that seeing a therapist became mandatory for Counseling Psychology students. 40 hours is nine months.

But, it has been good. Really good. Feeling is something that I've never done. Now, I'm starting to thaw. Tears come. Regularly. It's new to me. And, it's really a scary experience because it is such a new experience. Being forced to sit in the things I've tried to ignore or blow past. It is so hard. It is unsettling. It is unnerving. It is my reality. And, knowing that I am no where close to 40 hours allows me not to be focused on hurrying healing, but simply forced to embrace each emotion that washes me.

Blossom

Daily I'm confronted with the fact that I married up. WAY up. Today is the 14th Anniversary of that very good day. The lowest lows and the highest highs that we've experienced together have unveiled more and more of her beauty. I didn't realize that flower who said, "I do" fourteen years ago had barely opened. And, now she blooms most beautifully. And, yet, I anticipate an even greater bouquet that will unfold in her glory and radiance as we continue to grow old together.

Are You a Good Christ?

This article by Francis Chan is a must read.

Rebuilding Foundation

I've gone through seasons of being infatuated with John Eldredge's material, and seasons where I pushed it away. Last night I attended an event that I had been secretly looking forward to for weeks – the "Fathered by God" tour was in town.

I caught a ride with a guy from school and his wife. Bruce is also on the intercessor team for Ransomed Heart Ministries, so I got to go with him to the "Intercessor Gathering" prior to John's talk before 5,000 people. The intimate gathering with the intercessors was cool, and John came and talked with us for 15 minutes or so. I wasn't too star-struck. I've talked with him before. At boot camp, and at a small luncheon at Catalyst. But, during this intimate gathering I kept a low profile. Looking for holes, for reasons not to believe God or the message that John passionately believes in. But, as always, John spoke to our intimate gathering with encouragement and humility.

The reason for the "tour" is for his book, Fathered by God. It is basically a reworking of the book, The Way of the Wild Heart, not to be confused with his book Wild at Heart. And, because the two were often confused, The Way of the Wild Heart was reworked to become the Fathered by God book.

So much of my journey recently has been about a disbelief that God will really come through. Very similar to a what experienced a couple of years ago. But, last night's time answered some questions, and sparked hope.

The first stage for a man is "Boyhood," and this happens between the ages of birth and age 12. In his book, Wild at Heart, Eldredge says that every man needs to have the question, "Do I have what it takes?" answered. But, he says, the question, "Am I beloved?" really comes first. And, how it is answered shapes him.

In my notes I wrote John's words: "God shapes through danger, Without belovedness, it [the dangers] feels like failures. He [the boy] misinterprets the trials."

Not having a dad available to validate that I am loved caused the other stages of "Cowboy," "Warrior," "Lover," and "King" to be build on a weak foundation that has really eroded. Needing others to validate me because my dad didn't caused me to give others an unhealthy role in my life. Trials that I would have said at an earlier time in life were shaping me were now things that I questioned God hugely on.

Today, because of last night, I am a little more hopeful. But, I also know that there is a long journey ahead for me in building my boyhood foundation. Something that my time in therapy has also been doing. There is a lot of work ahead in learning to believe and trusting that God really does see me as beloved. Rebuilding this foundation is key to being a whole man. For God's sake, my sake, Jean's sake, and Sam and Alina's sake.

Late. Again.

When my dad died, my plane landed in Tampa just one hour after he died from cancer. I got the call from Jean when the plane landed and we were able to turn on our phones that he had passed.

Right now, I'm feeling late. Again.

The man that had fathered me through my college years passed away yesterday of cancer. My father-in-law went to visit him yesterday. Chet asked about me, and my father-in-law promised to bring me to see him when we got to Michigan. But, he died yesterday afternoon. Damn. I did, though, receive a call to be a pallbearer at his funeral on Saturday. It will be an honor. But, still. It sucks.

When It Was Coming to an End

When it was coming to an end last night, I was feeling sad. Not because the Spartans had little hope of coming back, but because the tournament was coming to an end. My son cuddled next to me and my daughter cuddled next to me. Talking about "baxetball," heroics, and life.

But, as last night closed, more adventures and talks await for us. I just enjoyed those cozy times.

My Blood Runs Green and White Tonight

Tonight we'll be cheering for Michigan State during the national championship game. Not just because we are from Michigan. The reasons are much deeper than that.

My maternal grandfather went to MSU when it was still named MAC (Michigan Agricultural College).

There are a lot of boyhood memories on campus. The star shows at the planetarium. Bell concerts at Beaumont Tower. MSU basketball in the days of Magic Johnson, and football games. During my senior year of high school, while other kids were at parties, my friend Ethan and I were on the third floor of Michigan State's library looking at topographical maps.

My undergraduate degree, with three major changes, is from Michigan State University.

My first date with Jean was at Michigan State where we saw an outdoor summer play. Michigan State is where I first attempted to tell Jean I loved her. Beaumont Tower on campus is where I proposed, and she accepted.

For many reasons, my blood runs green and white tonight.

Broken Teeth

Yesterday I rode with Sam on the trail near our house. I was frustrated out of the gate because the chain would jump off of the front middle chain ring. Grrrrrrr... I rode anyway, and made a couple of stops to try and "fix it," thinking it was more of an adjustment issue. This morning I tossed it up on the work stand and realized it was more than just an adjustment issue, and more than just a build up of grease that would prevent the chain from setting correctly. Broken teeth. One tooth was completely missing, and three others were broken/worn at the tip. It is understandable. It is the chain ring that gets used the most. And, it had seen a lot of very good days.

Can you find the missing tooth?

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year...

It IS the most wonderful time of the year! BIKE SEASON!

I just finished getting my bike ready. I started installing from easiest to hardest:

• New Seat
• New frame mounted pump
• New rear cogset
• New chain
• New brake caliper
• New front and rear brake cables
• New front and rear shifter cables

The shifter cables scared me to death, especially the rear. But, since the limits were set well on the high and low set screws, it was a pretty simple job. And, I'm proud of how easily it went.

Now, tomorrow, if the rains hold off, Sam and I are headed out for the first trail ride of the year. Probably nothing too difficult. Probably over to St. Edwards just to get the blood flowing in the legs and air in the lungs. Sam got a new bike for his birthday, the lightest frame made for his size. It's 8 lbs. lighter than his previous bike, and it's a better quality bike. It should make for much more enjoyable rides for Sam.

x•PLOY•t-Ed

Monday I had coffee with David, then a couple hours later with Paul. Okay, they had coffee, I had my usual – a white hot chocolate. David was my practicum facilitator first semester. Paul is MHGS's Field Abbot.

Both men told me, at completely different meetings, how good I looked. My response to Paul was, "Wow. I must have looked like crap before."

I doubt that their comments on how good I looked had nothing to do with my physical weight loss. I had on my longer overcoat. I doubt it had anything to do with my super-cool haircut.

Maybe looking good had something to do with the look in my eyes. I think the glaze that had covered my eyes is disappearing. And I can see a little better, and be seen a little better.

And, with seeing better, I am able to stand a little longer in the presence of past abuse. Last night in counseling we spent a long time facing what it was like to be groomed by a predator, and touching the pain of being abused and exploited. It is hard being in the presence of the frustration and disappointment I have at myself. That I didn't fight for myself and let the abuse and exploitation continue for so long. But, Mary wouldn't let me wallow in that filth. She invited me to sit in the place where I was courageous. Where I did stand strong in bringing an end to the abuse and exploitation against me.

Happy Together

They showed this video at Catalyst this past fall. It is the funniest thing I've every seen, especially when Andy Stanley's house is getting TP'd.

"Inside All of Us Is...ADVENTURE"

Post inspired by National Geogrpahic ADVENTURE Blog.

When going to the link for the movie trailer, be sure to go to the gray box on the right to view the movie trailer.

What's In It For Me

So, you've been dying to know about the igloo trip?

Building an igloo takes a lot of effort. Sam and I attempted to build our igloo. About an hour in three others, then two more, came over and lent a hand in getting our igloo completed. Then, we returned the favor. In our devotion time Sunday morning we talked about Psalm 46 and God being our refuge. For me, it was cool to see God's people provide a refuge for each other.

But, I'm getting ahead of myself. Building an igloo is a lot of work. It was about 5 hours of work for 11 people to build 5 igloos. We finished about 5:30. We were totally soaked with sweat.

The weather went from sunshine, to rain, to snow. Sam and I put on some dry clothes, and tacos for dinner, and turned in. This is where it gets fun.

I never felt quite warm. Thoughts of igloos sound a bit romantic and adventurous. A nice place to come in out of the cold. Well, you don't really get out of the cold. You are in an igloo. It's made out of snow.

As Sam fell asleep, I read a little for school, but wondered how much I was really comprehending. I turned the headlamps off, but immediately felt closed in. I turned the headlamps back on. I woke up at 9 PM. Sam did, too. I woke up at 11:15 PM. Sam did too.
Now, keep in mind that to conserve the heat in an igloo, you need to tunnel in to your igloo, and do it in a fashion where the floor of the igloo is higher than the ceiling of the tunnel.

Also keep in mind that I started getting sick before we left. Sleeping in an igloo is a very oppressive feeling. The air is heavy, and, with being sick, I felt like I was going to suffocate. You do put a couple of holes in the igloo for "fresh air," but it didn't help. So, it was just an awful feeling. Like, being locked in a freezer with a cow stepping on your chest. All the while wondering, when I begin to close my eyes, "is this sleepiness the same sleepiness that is the warning that you are about to die from hypothermia?" – You just start to fall asleep and won't wake up again, only to be thankful to wake up again 2 hours later to go through the whole routine over again.

I felt like I was literally going to die just from being sick and being cold. At 1 AM I woke up and that suffocating feeling began to turn into panic. The scenarios are running through my mind – "It's 1 AM, I am going to have to go wake up Bob, we are going to have to pack up everything, walk out of here – with Sam, and Bob will either drive me all the way home, or at least to a point where Jean and Alina can meet us. What will these people think of me? Worse, I don't want to spoil Sam's trip." Pray, pray, pray. Feel a little better. Drink water, apply lip balm to my sunburned lips. Fall asleep, while wondering if this is hypothermia again.

I woke up at 3:12 AM. Pray, drink water, apply lip balm to my sunburned lips. Sam wakes up at 3:57 AM and asks what time it is. I tell him, and he smiles because he is awake and it's the middle of the night. I asked if he was having fun. I was hoping he'd say he was cold and miserable and wanted to go home. But, instead, he said, "Yes! We are sleeping in an igloo!" Then he asked if I was having fun. I said, "Sam. If you are having fun, then I am having fun."

He falls back asleep, and I do. Wondering, again, if this time it really is hypothermia. I wake up again at 5:12 and pray, drink, apply lip balm, and fall asleep – again betting that this time it really is hypothermia.

At 7 am there is light outside. YES! We made it! Sam has to go to the bathroom painfully bad. And, we struggle to get his snow pants and coat on without him having a breakdown. We make it out of the tunnel, out of our camping area, and onto the main trail. After Sam goes to the bathroom (which, by the way, I am so proud that he learned how to poop in the snow while wearing 5 layers), we take a hike deeper into the mountains. It is a beautiful morning. I am sick as can be, but I experienced the joy of my son. With my son that I prayed for, who came into our lives just about 8 years ago.

Cramming

This morning I got up to cram. Not so much for graduate school, but for igloo school. To see diagrams, how to shape blocks, and how to arrange blocks.

And, now, I need to get some work done on my paper before we leave...

Getting Ready

Sam and I have been packing for the "Big Weekend." Most Saturdays is "EdVenture Saturday" for the family. But, this coming weekend is a little different.

Next Thursday Sam turns 8. To celebrate Sam and I are going into the mountains Saturday with the Wilderness Ministry from church. We are snowshoeing in, building igloos to sleep in, eating dinner, breakfast the next morning and heading home Sunday. Alina is so sweet in that even though she isn't going with us she wants to help us pack up the gear.

It will be a very good trip. Mostly, because I will be spending time with my favorite exploring buddy. But, it will be good to leave paper writing behind for 30 hours and be kind and gracious to myself, and allow God to be kind and gracious to me as well. It has been a hard week. Almost like the perfect storm – the weaning of medication was going oh so well for weeks until making the next dosage drop Monday; papers upon papers due next week; a new job for Jean and anxiously waiting about another; two inspections early in the week; and therapy today. But, therapy was great; my papers are coming along slow and steady (slow and steady wins the race, as Alina says); I got to hang out with Jean, Sam and Alina at the Spotted Cow for white hot chocolate after Jean's big day; and so much more goodness to be celebrated. I am a blessed man. I am in a good place mentally to engage Sam well this weekend and enjoy him this weekend, and to enjoy how far I have come as a man.

The Weight Metaphor

Most of you who read Jean's blog know that we have been losing weight. Since December 29th I have lost 19 lbs. I still hope to lose another 10 lbs. If it happens, sweet. If not, sweet.

There are many reasons for losing the physical weight for me. I looked like crap. I felt like crap. It was hard to play well, especially with Sam. I had no energy. I am also doing some races this year. Most here in the area, but also one with my sherpa brother in May. That one will be a blast, mostly because it will be with Johnny! I can't wait!

The weight has been a metaphor for many things in life. Coming into this year there were many things that just needed to be let go of. My weight was one of many things. School needed to be done smarter so that I could spend better time with my family. This has led to Edventure Saturdays as a family. There were also harmful relationships that were weighing me down and us down. School, boundaries class at church, and therapy have all led to putting these harmful relationships in their proper places.

As a family, I feel like we are in a really great place. Moving here has been the best thing for us as a couple. When Jean's mom and dad came to visit recently I feared that we would regress or that we as a couple wouldn't be able to hold our own against them. That how we have learned to leave and cleave would be fought against. It was fought against, yet we – and especially Jean – held and held well. It is absolutely amazing to witness who we have become. Not just who I have become, but who we have become. It is truly good.

We each have a handful of friendships that we miss dearly. But, we haven't let those friendships get away. We keep in close contact with them, and they with us. We miss them so much it hurts, and we are looking forward to seeing them in April. Those 10 days are going to go by way too quickly.

Yet, being here has allowed us to cut so many harmful things away. We attend a great church, Sam (and soon to be Alina) is at a great school, I am at a great school. Most of all, I have a great family. Our marriage is intimately good. As hard as the first few months were, we are thankful. I am thankful for who we have been allowed to be and become here. God is transforming me through so many things. I have never felt closer to Jean. I have never felt lighter.

Jean

Today is Jean's birthday! It has been both a mystery and a joy to see who she is, really is. When I am with her I find myself loving who she is, at the same time finding that who she is is someone completely new to me. I love her for who she is – both someone I know and someone that I am completely taken aback by because of beauty that I had never seen before which continues to be exposed. The best part of the day is sitting with her in the evening and just taking in who she is. Wow! – are the feelings that impress on my heart.

Happy Birthday my love!

Being Kissed in the Morning

I have been reading a lot on marriage. A LOT. Primarily because I am taking Dan Allender's "Marriage and Family" class.

Most mornings I am at my desk reading or studying before the rest of the family wakes up. When Jean wakes up on those mornings she comes in and greats me with a kiss. It struck me one morning what a gift of kindness and love those kisses are to me. I treasure them more now.

A Lot On My Mind

Last night I fell asleep thinking about therapy. This morning I woke up thinking about therapy. I've discovered more pieces to the puzzle, but I don't know where they fit yet. I got out of bed at 3:20 AM and journaled some thoughts.

Then, at 4:30 AM I got an e-mail from a friend and co-worker back home saying that the company had let three people go due to the continued mortgage situation. All three are my friends and have been for years. Sharing laughs and stories and dreams and heartache. And now they've been let go. I know that two are resilient. But that fact doesn't take away their hurt, or my hurt for them. One man is far less resilient. My heart breaks for him.

What a hard, sad day...

Christmas Eves

Last Christmas Eve after the church service I remember driving through neighborhoods with Jean and the kids looking at Christmas lights, and talking with Jean about what the upcoming year might be like – especially in Seattle. That we shouldn't kid ourselves in thinking it was going to be a romantic adventure. It was going to be hard.

And it has been hard. This Christmas Eve seemed to sum up the entire year in the span of a few hours:

Our garage doesn't have a floor drain like our house on hall street does, so there is some standing water in there from snow from the van. Jean was trying to step around the water and snagged her only winter coat on a nail. On our way to church I turn down a side street. It was icy from packed snow. The street is super narrow and there were cars packed bumper to bumper that haven't moved in two weeks – this was obvious because of the 8"-10" of snow piled on top of each car. I started sliding left and couldn't avoid taking out a mirror on a Prius that had been sitting there for a week. I left a note with my name and number on the person's door handle. (who knows which house the car belonged to...) Considering how long the car had been sitting there and the rain we are going to get, the note may just bleed from water and be unreadable. But, I wanted to be honest and not be a jerk that simply hit and ran. Church was sweet. They did the service around a chant of O Come O Come Emanuel, with chants by the choir, singing, scripture reading, a message from the pastor, etc. It was very good for our hearts. Then, I got the van stuck in front of the mail box when we got home. I got out and attempted to push while jean tried backing out. Mud was thrown all over me. It was awesome. I couldn't budge it. I got back in the van, determined to get it out. I did. We got inside and Jean prepared a fantastic smorgasbord – a tradition her parents gave to her. The meal was great, and talked non-stop through Polar Express – another family tradition of ours. the kids were wound for Christmas.

The evening wasn't romantic in an "everything is easy way," yet, it was romantic in an "our family loves and enjoys each other."

Christmas

The other day I was going through some old family pictures and I came across this gem snapped Christmas morning, 1971, in our basement duplex. I was just one month shy of being 2 years old.

From Amnesia to Brain Surgery

This morning I wanted to vomit. It was more of a burning in my stomach. I was doubled over in the shower. Those were things that used to happen when I was little. When I didn't want to do something or go somewhere. I missed a lot of school. I've been remembering a lot. And, remembering makes me feel sick. I wasn't feeling sick because today was therapy. I look forward to it and I enjoy therapy. And, I mostly enjoy therapy because I want to be closer to better. Even if getting better looks and feels like I'm getting worse for a while. I was sick this morning because of remembering.

I've been finishing "It's Not About the Bike." I had to put it down when fall term started. When I picked it again I came to a part where Lance is riding the tour. How vomiting for 24 hours straight over 5 day periods due to the chemo treatments, and so much of that time, prepared him to win The Tour. I've been hoping that feeling the pain and nausea I feel now will pay off for something down the road. Realistically it may, and it may not.

Today's therapy was good. And interesting. So much happened. At the end of it all, I was asked if I would be open to switching gears in our sessions together. Going from "relational therapy" to "Lifespan Integration Therapy." Basically, we are needing to re-hardwire my brain. It is such an intense process, that we can only go about it every other session. My therapist has received advance training in Lifespan Integration.

The Lifespan Integration website doesn't mention all of the routine, but before my first "LI" session, I will need to write down a memory from each year of my life. And, each memory for each year will be read, and it will be cycled three times total in our session. All to rewire my brain to realize and understand what safety as an adult is.

I am intrigued by it. And hopeful. I don't want a shortcut. But, I do want to feel and to know healthy boundaries and I want to remember. Next week, due to Christmas, therapy has been moved up to Tuesay evening. So, LI will either begin next week or on Thursday Jan. 8.

Amnesia

The first trimester is over. Reams and reams of paper used for printing readings, assignments and essays. Books upon books read. Whew. What a blur.

So many people from back home called, e-mailed, and instant messaged me over the term to encourage me. I'm sure I'll miss someone, but thanks Adeana, Amanda, Angie, Ann, Anne, Brandon T., Brian M., Brian VM, Chris, Chuck, Darrell W., David B., Deneè, Gary, Howard, Hunter, Johnny, Jon M., Kelly, Kevin, Roger, Steve, Terry, and Tim. I feel like me being at MHGS has been as much of a fulfillment of your dreams as mine. Thanks for your encouragement for me to hang in there.

And, so many new friends out here have encouraged me to live from my story. Not to try and be someone else. But to celebrate my neuroses and lean into my oddities. To mourn the tragedies and cruelties. Thanks to Scott and Scott, Jason, Philip, Julie and Julie, Rick, Grant, Anita, Claire, Lisa, Eron, Shannon, Paul, and David. And, especially Bruce who I traveled back from classes with and we shared stories of joy and pain. Thanks!

Most of all, thanks to Jean, Sam and Alina for making me study and for making me play. And for loving me through the demands of the trimester. You have each loved me as I wrestled through the deconstructive readings and classes that have peeled layer after layer off my onion all the way down to the pain that was hidden underneath. You are the greatest!

And, now that it is rest time from studying, I still have important work to do. Over the last half of the term I have started to remember little things. Very painfully tragic events. Some brought on from readings, others from just being forced to sit in one place. Most of my life I haven't remembered. I have kept moving and it has prevented me from recalling. I had developed amnesia about nearly every memory.

Over break I have blocked out time to look at photographs in order to recall cruelty, abandonment, seduction, human sacrifice, and repeated abuse. The recall of these memories aren't so that I can continue to sit in the despair of the past. It is so that the past can be reauthored, as Dr. Allender says. Reauthored for the future's hope. Last Thursday after counseling I went for a walk in the woods. I asked God to begin to help me remember some events. He began to. The events being recalled were so hurtful that they were overwhelming. God was gracious enough to turn the memories back off for the time being. I know those memories are just the tip of the iceberg for what is deep below the surface of the dark waters.

I am very pleased with the relationship I have developed with my therapist here. A therapist who is a graduate of MHGS. A therapist who understands the deconstruction process of the school. And, most of all, one who desires to help me remember so that those repeated tragedies can be redeemed for good.

Reading Between the Lines

This morning, most of my readings have had adventure and journey imagery sprinkled through.

When we embark on such a journey, we understand there will be challenges along the way, unexpected encounters that stretch us to our limits and change the shape of who we are. We know we will emerge changed, bearing the marks of the journey on our soul and body. Our friends may not recognize us when we return; we may not even recognize ourselves! Such a journey requires commitment – willingness to press on through sunlit days and dark nights, unspeakable beauty and terrible danger, sometimes finding companionship and sometimes feeling utterly alone, sometimes sure we are headed in the right direction, other times afraid we have completely lost our way. It is that perilous and priceless journey inward to that place at the center of ourselves where God dwells. (p. 19, "Invitations to Silence and Solitude") While I don't believe that God dwells just at the center of ourselves, but also at the center of life all around us. Yet, the imagery is powerful.

...Via negativa, which has its underlying assumption the hiddenness of God, not the overt visibility of God... Dillard reminds the reader that nature and/or God is apt to hide itself. She tells stories of trying to catch glimpses of fish in deep water, of stalking muskrats in the woods for hours, of turning just in time to see the final flash of a fleeing squirrel or bird. All such stories are metaphors for a fleeting God, a God that must be sought, stalked, waited out, patiently and tirelessly. The mystical experience results from the expansion of the via negativa concept to include not only God, but also the individual in pursuit of God... As God told Moses on Sinai, no one can see God's glory fully and live to tell the story. Yet, this danger does not warrant ending the pursuit of the fleeting God... "You quit your house and country, quit your ship, and quit your companions in the tent... the light on the far side of the blizzard lures you. You walk, and one day you enter the spread heart of silence... This the end of the Via Negativa, the lightless edge where the slopes of knowledge dwindle, and love for its own sake, lacking an object, begins..." One must be willing to go out to the furthest edge of the mystery that is God, a place where one may be allowed a brief glimpse of glory, an dmight also die in the process. Dillard mentions Ezekiel's rebuking of false prophets who have "not gone into the gaps." Dillard, in an earnest tone, tells the reader, "The gaps are the thing. The gaps are the sprit's one home, the altitudes and latitudes so dazzingly spare and clean that the spirit can discover itself for the first time like a once-blind man unbound. The gaps are the clifts in the rock where you cower to see the back parts of God... Go up into the gaps... Stalk the gaps." She emphasizes again that there are no guarantees for safety and that one must be prepared for surprise and shock when dealing wth God. God will "catch you up, aloft, up to any cap at all, and you'll come back... transformed in a way you may not have bargained for – dribbling and crazed."

At first, this reading frustrated me. Why does God do this when all I want is to see His face. And, I'm tired. Then, I realized, I have been stalking Him all along. Not like a big game trophy to be mounted above our fireplace. But, the true God. I have seen his tracks. I have seen more of His shadows recently. I think I am getting closer.

Hearing Different Words

For the second Monday in a row I have been told by two caring faculty members that I need to take a year to care for me. To grieve my story. To care for my heart. To stop caring for others so that I can care for myself. All so that I can care for me the way that I care for others. And, when I care for me better I can truly care for others well because I will be able to better grieve for me and for them.

Jean says I love her and the kids in completely higher ways since being in Seattle. Jean says I have changed so much being here. I don't know.

All of us in the MACP program have to do 42 hours of outside counseling with a therapist by fall 2009. Mine begins Nov. 20. It will start at a place where my last two left off, and maybe at a different starting place that hasn't been mined yet. This time around I want to see a female counselor. How in the world can I begin to care for myself and allow myself to be cared for. It has been easier to care for others than to care well for me. My inner circle of guys care for me and care for me well. But, I need to allow them to care better because it is hard for me. I need to let them for them and for me.

It is very strange to be trusting a stranger that hasn't earned my trust in a strange city and at a very deconstructing time. This should be fun...

The End of the Other Blog

This morning I suspended my other blog. It was about my reconstruction. But, my Misadventures are also about my reconstruction. Having multiple blogs felt like having multiple personalities. I don't want to compartmentalize areas of my life.

The other blog was intended to capture some good quotes from class or conversations at school that struck me. I was logging great quotes during my note taking, but only posted on the other blog three times. Below, you will find those three posts...

Last Week

originally posted wednesday october 29, 2008
The last 8 days have been sweet. Coffee with Paul (and yes, I did have coffee that actually went down my throat) was relieving. The second time telling my story – ALL OF IT – and being confirmed and affirmed for who I am. It was good. I realized I did not need to be someone else while I am here. I can be me. Comfortable in my own skin. And, today was an epiphony. While reading about Transference and Countertransference some lights came on. Blaming my dad for the reason why I want to be perfect. Actually, digging into me, I see now where that actually comes from. It is good the way this program is leaning into me.

On Being with Someone

original post wednesday october 29, 2008
It isn't about how you can fix somebody's problem, but how you can be with someone in their problem. – Roy

On Being a Critic

original post: friday october 17, 2008
Both Dan and Dwight gave great quotes in their respective classes this week. I will start with a quote from Dwight's class – perhaps partially because he is from Canada and because I think I have a man-crush on him, in a manly, Canadian sort of way...

"Anyone can be a critic. Have you ever seen a blog? There is no spiritual gift in being a critic."

The Outcome

Monday night was sweet. Very sweet. The couples were very, very willing to hear our stories, and to share theirs. And that set our group up for a truly sweet night. They were eager to have a vision for they key areas of their marriage. Coolest, though, was that after I time was done, everyone stayed around for an additional 45 minutes, just enjoying eating desert and delving into each other even more. No agenda, and no other place to go. And, best of all, in talking to each person since Monday, there is the sense that everyone is looking forward to next Monday.

T minus Two Hours

Jean and I are two hours away. New people. New ministry. How will 7:30 PM to 9 PM change us? Will we be deer in the headlights? Freaks? Friends? This should be good...

2 b continued....

Isn't She Beautiful

I had told Alina that after my inspection yesterday that we would go and have hot chocolate together. I came home and she was all dressed up. She looked beautiful! Jean said that she wanted to wear a dress for our time together. She is SO sweet! While we were at The Spotted Cow drinking hot chocolate I asked her, "So, how is life going being a princess?" The man sitting at the table next us turned around and gave me a big smile. Alina brings things out in my heart that I never knew was there.

This Morning

This morning went very well. We were entrusted with much. It was awesome to see how much they delighted in Jean. Much of the time I was brushed aside so that they could delight more in Jean. It was awesome. She blew them away. It was almost as though they were seeing beauty for the first time every time Jean spoke. It was that cool. She is like a super hero to them. Of course she is. She is gloriously Jean.

Quantum Of Solace James Bond Trailer-Another Way To Die

I heard this song on the way home from class last night. It is from the upcoming James Bond film. It's very different. It grabbed me.

Will We... Will They...

I am wondering what tomorrow will be like. What tomorrow morning will be like. I'm not anxious, but yet I am. Jean and I will meet with two others. What will that be like. Will we be offered too much. Will we be offered too little. Will they appreciate who we are. Will we appreciate who they are. Can we handle what they don't offer, or handle what they do offer. Will we be engaged. Will they. The morning, the meeting will tell...

I Shall Remain an Unbeliever

One of our readings this week is from a chapter called Consequences of the Incarnation for Spirituality. The whole chapter is very powerful. In one section of the chapter the author recounts the story of the hemorrhaging woman. He writes that healing takes place in two parts. The bleeding stops by touching the Body of Christ – the people of Christ. We, the body, can dispense full, complete healing through Christ when someone confesses. See the gospel of Mark for the two parts of the story.

The part that resinates with me most from his chapter is this story. He writes, "Some years ago a Christian carried the lament of a woman who, with some bitterness, explained why she did not believe in God. Never in her explanation did she mention dogma, morals, or church authority. For her, the credibility of God and of Christ depended more on something else, the faces of Christians. Her complaint went something like this [I am including the last half: And don't talk to me of church. What does the church know of my despair – barricated behind its stained-glass windows agains the likes of me? I once sought repentance and community within your walls, but I saw your God reflected in your faces as you turned away from the likes of me. Forgiveness was never given me. The healing love that I sought was carefully hoarded, reserved for your own kind. So be gone from me and speak no more of God. I've seen your God made manifest in you and he is a God without compassion. So long as your God withholds the warmth of human touch from me, I shall remain an unbeliever."

Have you been the woman? Or have you been the church that she speaks of? When was the last time you offered forgiveness, whether to someone outside of the church or to someone in the church? Have you only hoarded healing love for your own kind? Your close friends? Have you asked for foregiveness and been turned away?

This reading calls the body of Christ to be just that, the body of Christ.

Peace One Day

Dwight played this video Tuesday at the beginning of class. Encouraging each of us to celebrate the day somehow. It might be just in our own family, by taking a walk, or observing it by attending one of the marches around Seattle. Wednesday during class Roy shared the statistic that "the United States is 4% of the world's population, and we spend 50% of the world's military budget. We are also call ourselves a Christian nation." Happy "Peace One Day" day.

First Week of School

this picture is from my first day of school – before i left for kindergarten. i am the kindergartner on the right. my 1st grade neighbor, paul, is on the left. being a kindergartner is exactly how i felt tuesday. as i walked out the door i said to jean, "don't make me go!" i walked to the bus stop. waited for the bus. the playlist on my ipod was perfect for the journey. it was a playlist called, "seattle." i made it for sam and me to listen to on our plane ride, but we never listened to it. it was perfect for the morning ["gabriel's oboe" from the mission, "the journey begins" from everest, "chomolunga" from everest, "vertigo," "beautiful day," and so many other good journeying songs].

i nearly got off too early to make my first bus transfer. at first i felt like a little kid not knowing the ins and outs of public transportation. i told jean later i felt like my name should be on my underwear and all of my things. i felt so unsure. , but i quickly learned to trust the bus time schedule and route map i made. by the end of the week i felt like a public transportation veteran.

it's been a tiring week. very tiring. orientation each morning through afternoon, tuesday through thursday, then classes tuesday and wednesday evening, and a vesper service at the school thursday evening. i also did an inspection wednesday morning, and three yesterday. then a neighborhood dinner friday evening with some school students and spouses. last night as we walked out the door to go to the dinner i told jean i was so tired i wanted to cry. the dinner was a good time of conversation. it was the first time since moving here that i've felt i could just be myself with a group of people. i was glad we went.

the amount of reading we have to do for classes is unfathomable. yet, i know it is all for a good reason – the disruption and reconstruction of me. hopefully the disruption and reconstruction of us. this morning there is a convocation service to welcome the incoming students into the community of the school. our parents have been here for two weeks and fly out this evening. i am going to miss my mom. it has been good for us to sit and casually talk together and not feel rushed by time as we talk on the phone. but, next week will be a more normal week. just our family in our house. a regular week with normal classes and not much extra school "stuff" thrown in.

we went to a church last Sunday that was good. the people were actually friendly, the children's ministry staff were very welcoming, and the pastor was excellent. he even introduced himself to jean's dad as we were off dropping the kids to their classes. after the service while we were getting the kids the pastor said to be sure to bring us over to meet him. we met him. he's a very gracious and interested man in person. i felt like it was a place that i felt at home. the church has a nazarene foundation, which the traditional nazarene church has some conflicting doctrinal beliefs from how i was raised. i think jean wants to keep looking just to be sure we haven't "settled" without trying many and knowing we've really found the right one.

happy trails!

Feeling Like Home

It's starting to feel like home here. Only because our things are here. I miss the men that brought me back to life over the past couple of years – Johnny, Steve, Kevin, Brian M., Brian V., Tim, Marc, Kurt, Carl, Dave, Jon. Their friendships have been invaluable. Saying "goodbye for now" was harder than I thought it would be. The farewell party didn't impact me too much because we still had a week to go. But, saying goodbye to the guys at the Tuesday night ride made things start to sink in. The last Thursday morning study with Brian M. was bitter sweet. We had communion at the top of the Cannonsburg Ski Hill, one of the favorite places to mountain bike, and one of hte highest points in Kent county. It got harder Thursday night saying goodbye to Steve, and then to Johnny. It would really feel like home if our friends were here.

This is the morning sunrise from the back of our house. Seeing the sunrise like this is pretty rare as it is usually cloudy/foggy/rainy most mornings.

Yesterday I finally got back on my bike after being off of it for over a month due to being sick. Sam and I found a single track and had fun exploring. Last night and today the symptoms of my illness were back after being on the bike. I need to pace myself coming back, yet, I need to ride again. Riding is so therapeutic.

Today we visited a church that we will definitely go to again. It's only 10 minutes away, the people were friendly, the band was very good, and the pastor's message stuck with me. Jean's dad met the Sr. Pastor while we were dropping off the kids before the service. After the service while we were getting the kids the Sr. Pastor told Jean's dad to be sure to introduce us to him when we came back. A very nice, genuine man.

Being able to talk with our "home friends" makes them feel not so far away, and being here a little easier.

My Bobblehead

Last week was my last week in the office. Sometimes my office truly resembles The Office. Each day last week I was treated to different funny things from the TV show. It was truly a great send off. Monday I came into work and there were two very large plates of Jello on my desk, each with office supplies suspended in them. Tuesday my cubicle space was outlined with pencils, along with the quote from Dwight, "I am going to need you to remove your pencils. I may fall and pierce an organ." Wednesday there was a fax on my desk from future Ed warning me about someone trying to poison the coffee at 8 AM. Thursday there was a jar of canned beets from Schrute Farms, and a brochure from Schrute Farms promoting their Agro-tourism bed and breakfast. Friday there were Office quotes ALL OVER the entire office. There were streamers. The coolest thing was the gang had purchased me a bobblehead of ME. (See above – they call him EDventure). It is pretty freaky how much it does actually look like me. The week was pretty cool.

I felt really honored. Normally when someone leaves it seems there is this determination to pretend that there the employee did little to make a difference while there. It was odd for this group to throw me a party, and even to go so far as to find out from Jean what my favorite party foods were.

It was humbling to see Chuck cry when he said goodbye. It was a good cry. My relationship with Chuck had taken a 180 degree turn during the winter. Chuck became someone I truly cared about. And, it seemed he finally felt cared about.

Right after the luncheon, a guy called me over to a private part of the suite. He said, "I'm a little behind on my tithing." He opened up his wallet. I said, "Oh no. You're not behind." He said, "Really, I am." We bantered. His eyes were welling up and he tossed it on the desk and walked away. The thing is, he isn't a Christian. It really took me back. Maybe one of the reasons it took me back so much is that Jean and I had been praying that God would provide for us, because with the move we were going to be short financially to pay a bill that was due really soon. And, we were going to be significantly short. When I sat at my desk later in the afternoon I pulled the money out of my pocket. What he had given was the amount we were short. It choked me up. Because of his gift, and God's gift.

I am glad my 11 1/2 years of full-time work at Datacomp ended so well. Not because of what they did for me the last week. Mostly of how good I felt with where my relationships were with everyone. I left with no regrets.

Why We Go

It's been a crazy spring and summer. One where we have had things happen to us that made us very uncomfortable, only to see God show goodness.

In March Jean was let go from her job because the company had lost another company and couldn't afford to keep her. Honestly, they should have let me go. Jean did a lot more productive work for the company than I do. She gets paid by the piece, so they don't have to pay her any benefits. For some reason she was let go and I was allowed to stay. Maybe because they knew I was planning to leave by the end of summer anyway.

Jean and I made three promises. We would continue to tithe and give, we would not use the credit card to pay for anything, and we would not accept any help from our parents. Some months were very interesting, but we kept our promises and God always gave us just enough. It was especially hard during the storms when we lost power for several days and all of our perishables perished. We lost approximately $275 worth of food, and our home owners insurance would cover anything after a loss of $250. How would we replace that food, especially on one income that didn't cover the bills on paper? Friends showed up uninvited to cut trees. They also brought food. Others brought food which replaced more than we lost. Crazy.

Riding was good for me this summer. Sometimes I rode with Jean, sometimes I rode with Sam, sometimes I rode with the guys, and sometimes I rode with just God. When riding alone I would listen to music or a sermon by Andy Stanley or Erwin McManus or Francis Chan. They would help encourage me as I felt the walls close in by a house that wasn't selling in order to move to Seattle, and by a job that would come to an end for me by the end of summer if we stayed in Grand Rapids, with no other opportunities opening.

Jean and I were talking. I said that I could find Scripture that could support us staying and Scripture to support us going. One passage from Scripture that stopped me in my tracks is when Satan was tempting Jesus in the dessert and Jesus says, "It is also written: 'Do not put the Lord your God to the test.'" Jesus quotes from Deut. 6:16 where the Israelites were being provided for, but it wasn't enough. But, one commentary says that when you are doing God's work, expect to be tested by the adversary, so "press on" basically and do what God is commanding. I told Jean that I felt immobilized. We couldn't be sure if we were going out of obedience or impatience, or staying out of obedience or disobedience.

Jean then brought out what she had just read the night before in "In a Pit with a Lion on a Snowy Day." This is what Mark [Batterson] says... Obedience is a willingness to do whatever, whenever, wherever God calls us. And that looks different for each of us. It may mean applying to a graduate program or resigning a position. Part of me wonders if we've been sold a bill of goods. Is it just me or does it seem like some people act as if faith is a reduction of risk so our lives are, in the words of the old hymn, "Safe and secure from all alarm." The goal of faith is NOT the elimination of risk. In fact, the greatest risk is taking no risks... There is an old aphorism: "No one ever bet too much on a winning horse." I know this for sure: The only regrets we'll have at the end of our lives will be that we didn't seek God more or seek God sooner. That's it... Let me tell you something about stepping out on faith: You almost always second guess yourself. You make the decision to get out of the boat and you have second thoughts. You wonder if you made a mistake. 'Did God really tell me to get out of the boat?" [Quoting Andy Stanley...] "Generally speaking, you are probably never going to be more than 80 percent certain. Waiting for greater certainty may cause you to miss an opportunity..." Most of us want absolute certainty before we step out in faith. We love 100 percent money back gurantees. But the problem with that is this: it takes faith out of the equation. There is no such thing as risk-free faith. And you can't experience success without risking failure... [Mark then talks about Peter getting the bum rap because he's the one who denied Christ] He's [Peter is] the one who cut off the guys ear. But, he's the only one who defended Christ. He's the one who sinks in the Sea of Galilee, but he was also the only disciple who walked on water. It's easy to criticize Peter from the comfortable confines of the boat. I think there are two kinds of people in the world: creators and criticizers. There are people who get out of the boat and walk on water. And there are people who sit in the boat and criticize water walkers. Here is what I think: Sinking is better than sitting. When everything is said and done, I think our greatest regrets will be the God-ordained risks we didn't take. We wont' regret sinking. We will regret sitting. In the words of German author Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, "Hell begins the day God grants you the vision to see all that you could have done, should have done, and would have done, but did not do." ...Anything less than getting out of the boat is spiritual voyeurism. It is so easy to criticize water walkers form the comfortable confines of the boat. But I think the other 11 disciples were haunted by this missed opportunity. Think about it. They could have walked on water. But they chose to stay in the boat. They missed a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity because they weren't willing to take a God-ordained risk.

Jean closed the book. And together we decided that we must go to Seattle, even if we were only 80 percent sure at best if we should. Not because we were charged about what Mark wrote, but because we knew deeply what God had called us to do.

And shortly after making that decision we learned that my dad, who died three years ago, had left enough financially for me that would pay for our move, finishing our driveway, and school for Sam for a year. Crazy.

Our close friends are excited that we taking the risk, though they are sad that we won't be around to share life together. Other friends, even a few that are chasing their own lion into a pit on a snowy day, are concerned at what we are doing. That is cool. It is awesome to be truly cared about. My mom is sad because she will be much more than an hour from her only grandkids, her only son, and only daughter (in-law). Jean's parents are very sad, too, but said, "we know that is where you guys need to be."

Most everyone who loves us will worry about our choice to one degree or another. It is good to be loved. It is good to be cared for. It is also good that we are loved so much that people would be concerned.

I've written "Crazy" a few times. I just finished "Crazy Love" by Francis Chan. In the book, Francis writes, Walking in genuine intimacy and full surrender to God requires great faith. Hebrews 11:6 says, "Without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him." Back when I was in Bible college, a professor asked our class, "What are you doing right now that requires faith?" That question affected me deeply because at the time I could think of nothing in my life that required faith. I probably wouldn't be living very differently if I didn't believe in God; my life was neither ordered nor affected by my faith like I assumed it was. Furthermore, when I looked around, I realized I was surrounded by people who lived the same way I did. Life is comfortable when you separate yourself from people who are different than you. That epitomizes what my life was like: characterized by comfort. But, God doesn't call us to be comfortable. He calls us to trust Him so completely that we are unafraid to put ourselves in situations where we will be in trouble if He doesn't come through.

God is asking each person to have faith. For us, we are 80 percent sure that it means going to Seattle NOW. We go knowing we are deeply loved by God and by our friends, even by the friends that are scared to death about the journey we are taking. We have good, good friends. Jean and I will keep the same three promises in Seattle: We will continue to tithe and give, we will not use the credit card to pay for anything, and we will not accept any help from our parents (except from my Dad who is giving now when he couldn't pay child support for me when I was growing up).

A Simple Life Lesson

Saturday night I was flipping through the channels. I stopped on the golf channel. I don't know why I stopped there. I don't play golf. It's one of those sports that I think would make me cuss more. Anyway... One of the guys at the golf desk was talking about something they were doing. It may have been a contest. It might not have been. But, they were asking people to send in life lessons their dads had taught them on the golf course. I thought that was a cool idea.

Yesterday Sam and I went to the Ionia State Game area for the first trail ride of the year. It's a little gentler terrain for Sam than a couple of the spots closer to home. We had a great time. We had about a mile and a half to go, and I was thinking about the "life lessons taught by dad on the golf course" segment. I was wondering if Sam would ever take anything away from our rides or things we do together.

We loaded up our bikes and started heading home. I called Jean and gave her our estimated arrival time. When I got off the phone Sam had this really sad look on his face. "What's the matter, Sam?" I asked. "I wish we were still mountain biking," he said. "Why is that?" I asked. He answered, "Because you are my best buddy."

If Sam never learns anything riding with me, he keeps teaching me important things.

Having a Sherpa

Wow. The second friend post in as many days.

Everyone should have a friend who is a sherpa. My sherpa friend helped me carry some things today. He also helped me unpack some things.

He got the nickname sherpa because he carried most of another guy's gear on a backpacking trip because the guy blew chunks. That is the way Johnny is. He carries a guy's load. He doesn't just carry the physical load either. He helps carry the spiritual and emotional load. I honestly think he would die if he didn't help. He's so cool.

Thanks for taking the load today my brother. And, thanks for helping me unpack my load so that I could carry it again.

Not Sure Why

I've been scratching my head for the past several weeks wondering why God brought him into my life. He didn't come from where most of my friends come from – our church. He is passionate about loving Christ, loving his wife, and loving his three boys. We hit it off as soon as we met a year ago. And right now, at the twilight of our time here, God continues to take this friendship to deeper levels. I don't understand why now. But, I'm not complaining. It's good. Really good. It's just one of those things, though, that may break my heart when it is time to leave him.

Rejoice with Those who Rejoice

Today that seemed easier said than done. I was trying to rejoice with my boss as he described the trip he is leaving for tomorrow to the Virgin Islands with his family. His wife drives a BMW. Jean lost her job a couple of weeks ago, and we share a car that we were given for a dollar.

I was really wrestling with rejoicing for him. Telling God it was hard to rejoice. God said it was okay for me to rejoice because He has big plans for me. His plans for me go beyond the four walls of this unrewarding job, or an island vacation. For that, I can rejoice.