Jim Ryun - Got the Gold

Jim Ryun was one of my boyhood heroes.

Running sub-four minute miles while still in high school and later setting the world record at 3:51, some of his high school records for 800, 880 and 1,500 meters were still standing 40 years later! While setting a U.S. mile record in 1965, still in high school, he actually defeated the reigning Gold Medal Olympian of the day, Peter Snell. That's like a high schooler beating Tiger Woods at the Masters.

I was crushed, like most U.S. sports fans, when he placed second at the 1968 Olympics a few years later. Ironically, he actually beat his goal-time by 1 second that day, but Kip Keino of Kenya was better. As my sister - who witnessed the race in Mexico's Olympic stadium that day - and I mused, he didn't 'lose' that race, but successfully earned a Silver Medal while doing his best.

Ryun had some tough times amidst all the glory. My dad recalls seeing him drop out of a mile race on a chilly, rainy day at the Drake Relays, a premier collegiate track event of the time. After a fall at the '72 Olympic Games in Munich, Ryun left amateur racing, and eventually became a U.S. Congressman for the state of Kansas.

I met him under much different circumstances, almost 20 years after Munich.

We were attending a stadium size Christian prayer conference in Indianapolis. On the final evening, as a demonstration of unity across all the denominations represented, the youth ran through the aisles of the packed dome, bearing small lights. They were noisily and enthusiastically following a trim, smiling gentleman with a torch held high in his hand. A Mr. Jim Ryun.

Until that moment, I'd no idea what ever 'happened' to Jim Ryun. No idea that the final fall at the '72 Olympics had been the turning point of his faith and an open door to Christian ministry.

Like a starstruck teenager, I made my way through the crowd afterwards, easily recognizing his unchanged profile. With no entourage blocking his access, I simply walked up to him and extended my hand, gushing something about being his biggest fan.

He warmly and kindly accepted my praise, as I clumslily searched my pockets for something to autograph.

"Here, I've got something," he said gently, as though this were the most natural thing in the world.

From a blue hip pack, he pulled a small, folded card and began writing with a pen slipped from the same pack. We made some additional smalltalk and then I yielded to others who had discovered the former Olympian standing there.

Reading my prize later, I realized that Jim Ryun had signed his name to a brief account of his journey to faith in Jesus Christ, and the turning point of falling down - then getting up.

Jim Ryun is still one of my heroes, but for reasons different from my boyhood admiration.

What do you believe?

Get a new Parachute

I took a parachute jump for one of my milestone birthdays.

You shuffled through a one day class, signed some release forms and then jumped out of a perfectly good airplane on purpose. Happy birthday!

There were only three or four basic things to remember.

Wear the chute correctly, jump clear of the plane, check the chute when it opens, and then land safely.

Easy enough when you look at it like that.

Since we were first timer's on a one day lark, our rip cord was clipped to the plane's floor. It had about 15 feet of extra strap. When you jumped out and reached the end of the cord, it yanked your chute open. They call it a static line jump, vs. a free fall where you pull the cord on your pack.

But that doesn't guarantee a flawless chute opening. Lots of things can go wrong. The lines going up to the parachute silk can get tangled. Most common, some of the chute sections might collapse or not open. I recall our rectangular parafoil having about nine of those cells across the top.

This is the part they really hammer home. If some of your chute cells don't open, you lose the lift that is slowing and controlling your fall. So, you look up as soon as the chute opens, twist your lines free and count the cells. If two or more (can't recall the exact number now) were collapsed, you could decide to "get a new chute." Simply stated, if the main chute isn't working right, you reach to your chest and pull the rip cord on the reserve chute. The instructor said this countless times during the course of the day. "If it's going bad, just get a new chute."

When you pull that cord to "get a new chute" the old one is released. You are left with the reserve chute and no further options.

It's a decision you have to make in split seconds as you hurtle towards the ground at 100 miles per hour. Do I go with what I have, or do I put my full trust in the alternative that I cannot see?

If the main chute is tangled or collapsed and useless, I imagine the decision is much easier than if just one or two or three cells are bad. Maybe I can survive that, maybe not. But at least I know what this chute looks like.

We're all hurtling toward the ground that signifies the end of our lives.

If we're at 30,000 feet of middle age, it seems like there's a lot more time to decide. But as the decades go by and the ground gets closer, the decision to change chutes seems more and more urgent.

I see people testing new chutes all the time. New spiritual beliefs, new philosophies, new lifestyles. They pull the cord and get a new chute. Most of them are tangled or only partially filled. Or they fail to open at all. So they pull it again. And again. New chute after new chute.

The apostle Paul said,

"If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation, the old has gone, the new has come! All this from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ..." 2Corinthians 5:17-18

When my chute opened, I was so relieved! Everything was in order. No twisting, no lingering doubts of bad cells. And after my trust was confirmed, I felt free to look around me. It was beautiful! The ground wasn't rushing at me so fast after all. The frantic wind was now the breeze that I literally floated on. I still wondered what exactly the landing would be like - but I was no longer afraid.

What do you believe?

Situational Integrity

Back in 2005, one of the world's largest companies articulated what they considered to be an ethical stand on embryonic stem cells. They would "only" use embryonic stem cell lines that had been approved by the then-Bush administration, or any other national agencies in which they worked.

They were careful to say that they would not be involved in the primary harvest of the stem cells - someone else would kill the embryo - they would only use the resulting cell lines. And, they were careful to leave the door open for the future; should national guidelines change, they would change. In March of this year, the Obama administration OK'd federal funding for embryonic stem cell research. Within months, this same corporation, still consistent with the guidelines they'd established in 2005, also evolved their business model to join a commercial venture potentially selling tissue developed from these approved stem cells. They would not sell the stem cells, they reminded in the press release, only helpful tissues (liver tissue for example) created from those stem cells - which again, were originally created by scientifically stopping the life process of a developing human.

Now, the Obama administration is hopeful to change the federal stem cell guidelines to add more "lines" from more...embryos.

The corporation - their name doesn't matter, because we're all complicit in this; we're all allowing it to happen, and I'm still a stockholder, and both Republian/Democratic administrations allowed stem cell lines - the corporation was careful to affirm that they conduct their research in a scientific and ethically sound fashion. In fact, this same company prides itself in setting an internal tone for personal ethics and integrity in the workplace. They are widely and consistently recognized for playing by the rules.

But cleverly worded guidelines and one-step-removed policies don't change facts.

When King David committed adultery with Bathsheba, it was convenient to do away with her husband, Uriah. But David cleverly stayed one step removed:

"Put Uriah in the front line where the fighting is fiercest. Then withdraw from him so he will be struck down and die." 2Samuel 11:14

Then David's friend Nathan "called him" on it, not accepting the obsfucation:

"You killed him with the sword of the Ammonites," Nathan clarified for David. 2Samuel 12:9

As surely as he had swung the sword himself.

Adult stem cells have now proven to have more promise than embryonic stem cells - integrity requires that we openly explain and act upon that difference.

David's stock went down after his indiscretion - so did the corporation's - so has our culture. But David repented, and the wisdom of Solomon, his son, followed.

What do you believe?

3 bucks and the Miraculous Staircase

We visited three churches in historic Santa Fe, New Mexico.

The oldest, San Miguel, is an adobe brick structure with rough hewn wooden beams over its head-bumping doorways. It's in relatively poor condition, but that only adds to the charm and authenticity of it's 1610 origins, built with the help of local Tlaxcalan Indians.

The most magnificent is St. Francis Basicillica, built in the 1800's with Romanesque grace and stone arches over what was originally another 17th century church site.

But most people will ask if you've visited the Loretto Chapel.

Just down a side street between the basilica and San Miguel, Loretto's sturdy 1870's gothic structure is no longer actively used for church services (although it does rent out for weddings).

In fact, its attached to a very nice hotel and for $3 you can walk in to see...the circular staircase at the back of the church. It circles tightly, twice, as it ascends from floor to loft. Very nifty workmanship done with only wood pegs and well balanced symetry--there are no braces to the side wall.

The noteriety of the staircase comes from it's mysterious carpenter, having passed through town after the church was already built, and supposedly working for free before quietly slipping away again once the work was completed.

The Loretto brochures are careful to place the word "miraculous" staircase in quotes, sensitive perhaps to the fact that the "chapel" is really a "former" church and mostly a tourist attraction now. I dutifully took pictures of the staircase and admired the craftmanship. Then I turned to the front of the church to study the hand carved altar and two very thoughtful, sculpted statues. The stations of the cross on the walls are some of the most beautiful I've ever seen.

I couldn't get too close at first though, because a family of five was sitting on the altar railing, backs to the altar and staring toward the rear staircase. This wasn't just a couple of kids waiting to be shoo'd away by a museum docent. This was mom, dad, uncle harry AND the two kids. Chattering away, oblivious to any sense of reverence the rest of us exhibited to the scene behind them.

It took me a full minute to think through my emotions. I was offended by the blatant disrespect for the alar and its symbol of salvation on the wall behind them. On the other hand, it was technically a museum, this "miraculous" chapel. And they did pay their 3 bucks like everyone else. I don't know, though. Could you ever grow so cavalier about an act of redemption--involving the cruel crucifiction of an innocent man for your sake--to turn your back and snap cell phone pics of some nicely done cabinetry instead?

The founding Sisters of the Loretto chapel sold it in 1968 when their education facility closed.

I suspect they had definitely ruled out any "miracles" involved with the renown staircase by then, otherwise no earthly price could have been set.

But I wonder. Was there not enough of a miracle involved with the story behind the altar, at the other end of the church? Would people not walk in off the street to hear the story of the man who actually did perform documented miracles in a far away place before his astounding resurection from death and subsequent reappearance to 100's of people just like them?

Just around the corner, the slowly decaying adobe structure of San Miguel still has a worship service every Sunday night at 5 o'clock. Several of the people we saw touring there were seated quietly in the ancient pews, meditating thoughtfully and respectfully.

San Miguel also tells the miracle of a carpenter who came to town, solved a problem, and then mysteriously left again.

"Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfector of our faith; who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." Hebrews 12:2

What do you believe?

SantaFe from 20,000 Feet

We just got back from a quick trip to Santa Fe, New Mexico. Lovely place.

There's lots more to do than wander the art shops and museums that surround the centuries-old plaza. Don't get me wrong, its an intoxicating pastime. We admired everything from priceless religious art and Georgia O'Keefe's to original oils and sculptures by lesser knowns along Canyon Drive. Some of the most exquisite gallery pieces were priced anywhere from a year of private college tuition all the way up to suburban starter home. I'm not kidding.  "Most of our buyers contact us through third parties, or over the internet," one proprietor allowed, as though pardoning us for merely browsing without a checkbook (or loan officer).

We soon discovered that our favorite art treasures weren't locked up in any of the lovingly preserved adobe dwellings. In fact, we drove over 700 miles in less than 4 days, covering a good portion of the Northeast quadrant of the state. It's in the high desert that you see the most spectacular palette of colors. Fire-bright cottonwood yellows and quaking aspens tucked between rough-barked Ponderosa pines. Brick red cliffs and shimmering streams that catch the late afternoon sun, just so.  The artists along tony Canyon Drive were good, but they weren't that good. No disrespect intended.

We followed mile after mile of winding highways, stopping constantly to snap photos or walk out to an overlook. We gazed across one vast caldera, trying to fathom it's size from one edge to the other. We knew there were pine trees miles and miles across the grassy meadow, but they were a blur of green, too far off to see detail. Then we spotted a collection of dots in the middle of the expanse. They were moving, but I couldn't image what they might be. Dogs? Sheep? I brought out the binoculars and said to Angela, "you're not going to believe this."

It was a herd of elk. Huge, lumbering elk lost in a vast sea of caldera grassland surrounded by thousands of feet of towering Jemez mountain range. No canvas or brush could be clever enough to capture the thrill of that moment, or the sweet smelling breeze that rustled through the grass.

Two mornings later our plane took off from the Albuquerque airport and quickly climbed to 20,000 feet. "We're flying right over the section of Jemez mountains that we drove through," I said. Sure enough, we could see where the scenic highway left the main road and started it's winding assent through the pass. It surprised me, as the plane continued climbing and we recognized landmark after landmark from our travels, that the high desert section had very finite boundaries. We had driven through the very highest, most scenic section. But from the plane we could see that within 10 or 20 miles in either direction was scrubby, treeless lowland. And that vast, seemingly endless caldera with the elk was merely a drop of  spilled milk on a banquet table.

I smiled and wordlessly thanked the Living God. "You are an artist's artist," I offered up with quiet praise.

Century after century people have come to that area and re-created--or interpreted--on animal skin and canvas what they see and sense.  What they recreate, He first created.

And just when we conclude that our vantage point has empowered us to see from one edge to the other of his creation, it only takes a plane ride and a few thousand feet to realize that there are still countless horizons beyond our vision.

What do you believe?

An Extra Chair - An Extra Guest

My brother-in-law's funeral came six weeks after my mom's. My sister and her boys bravely greeted arriving family friends at the front of the church. I was in the back with my friend Ed by the pipe organ, tuning my guitar. There was an old folding chair by the wall, and I planned to sit there during the service, knowing Ed would use the organ bench. The church filled up quickly and I was a little rushed, getting sheet music organized and microphones set. My other sister came by and we chatted quickly about a harmony I though she could add to one of the communion songs. We hadn't rehearsed it or sung it in many years and she wasn't confident enough to wing it under the circumstances.

"What about Mary?"

An old family friend with an angel's voice, and a best friend of our grieving sister, Mary was attending the service. With only a few minutes to spare, Mary tested the harmony and very kindly agreed to help.

"May I sit here?" she asked, pointing to my designated folding chair.

"Of course," I agreed and strode quickly back out to the church hall to rustle up another chair. Seeing none, I pulled one of the funeral directors aside and asked hurriedly, "can you get a chair for me in the back of the church?" She was busy too, but its part of the director's job and she didn't hesitate, saying it would be done. I left her and went to wash the equipment dust from my hands.

Emerging from the rest room I bumped into a young high schooler carrying a chair.

"Is that my chair?" I blurted out. He looked confused.

"The chair for the back of the church--did the funeral director ask you to get that?"

I was speaking fast and must have looked as anxious as I felt, so he wordlessly, reluctantly handed me the chair. I raced to the back of the church where Mary was already seated. To my surprise, another chair was already in place, obviously placed there by the director. I just kept walking and placed the extra one next to it, wondering now why that young man had gotten a chair for me.

Almost immediately the congregation was instructed to stand for the opening hymm and I glanced over to my left. There he was, my young friend, wrestling another, bigger chair into place at the end of a back pew. It was for him, and he was seated beside an overflowing pew full of our nephew's friends.

I felt bad for the mix up, realizing I had caused extra grief and stress for the young visitor. But only a few minutes into the service I heard the side door to the church scrape open and bright light poured in from the alley. An embarrassed gentleman stepped into the church. He was obviously late, and he hurriedly scraped the door shut again.

There was nothing he could do. He was committed now and with the layout of the church--two opposing halves of the church face each other across the altar in the middle--half the people there were aware of his predicament. Not a space to be found, except...

"Would you like to sit down?" I walked over and whispered, gesturing to our vacant chair.

He nodded gratefully and settled in beside Mary and me for the remainder of the service.

Afterwards, I tracked down the young man with whose chair I'd absconded.

He looked a little apprehensive, perhaps wondering if I had another reason for him to chase the wild goose. But I quickly recounted the story and as soon as I got to the part about the man stepping into the church without a seat, his face lit up.

"The chair!" he exclaimed. Yes, the chair. And despite the sad occassion, we enjoyed a shared moment, realizing that even the littlest things we fret over are often used by God to accomplish his own way.

"In all things God works for the good of those who love him, those who have been called according to his purpose." Romans 8:28

What do you believe?

Jesus and Genesis

Our pastor talked about divorce during the sermon a few weeks back. One of the new testament Gospel readings referred to Genesis in the old testatment.

"Jesus replied, 'But at the beginning of creation God 'made them male and female.'' "

Mark 10:6

An interesting reminder,

Jesus believed in, and taught, creation.

He didn't equivocate.

Coincidentally, there have been a few recent "findings" concerning the theory of evolution.

As always, these theories are inconclusive, using pieces of bone fragments to tell a story their discoverers would prefer to believe.

Click to read an update on Lucy (this was before the newest find of 'Ardi')

Jesus didn't think creation was a story.

What do you believe?

"I'd rather wait for a wider path..."

Just a year ago this fall, my wife and I were walking through a remote section of state park along Lake Michigan. It's an ungroomed backpacking area away from bike paths and asphalt. There was a lot of thick overgrowth and many false forks. Any trail markers or signs were few and far between. Still, we'd hiked even more remote areas (there was that time in Alaska...) and we'd easily be back long before nightfall. Plus, what better orientation than knowing a Great Lake was somewhere off to our right, for crying out loud!

Oops.

About the time we expected to meet up with a return loop to the trail head and our car, the winding trail veered sharply from the lake shore and we soon lost sight (and sound) of the water.

The path shrunk until neither of us believed that the thin ribbon of dirt beneath our feet was the real "trail." And looking backward in the fading light, we realized we could wander endlessly in circles trying to retrace our steps to the lake shore (no compass!).

With the temperature dropping rapidly, our light hiking clothing would make for a very miserable night in the forest. Brrrr!

So we both rejoiced when a few more twists and turns of that tiny path spilled us back onto the main trail and an arrow to the parking lot. Yes!

Even in the dark, we could safely navigate back from there. What a relief.

Clear direction.

There was only one path home that made sense to us.

Neither one of us said, "this is insulting, there should be more options."

It didn't occur to us to say, "I don't like having to take this path with the arrow, let's wander back into the overgrowth where we're in full control."

Instead, we were happy - and grateful - to have a way out of the dark and to the reassuring comfort at the end of the trail.

It's really not so bad accepting a single, narrow path to the assured solution.

Or is it?

What do you believe?

What Makes a Big Church ?

I grew up attending this little church on a quiet residential street in our town.

In it's day--the 60's--it was a bustling place. Thriving Sunday school, pot luck dinners, fund raisers. We were small, make no mistake. Even after our big "expansion" program, the modest new church addition had painted cinder block walls and a concrete floor. But we filled it every Sunday.

That is, until the 70's and 80's when many family's drifted off, some to larger venues.

I drifted off too. On to more evangelical beliefs, and yes, to larger, more active congregations.

I wondered what kept the little place going. Besides my parents, there were a dozen or so 'core' families that hung in there. And when we did visit for a Sunday service, they--the 20 or 25 people in attendance--were always kind and attentive to us, and to all their members. But do the math. Is that a sustainable...church? Sometimes I just smiled and shook my head, wondering how they hung on.

When my mom died this August, there was a lot to prepare for the funeral service and luncheon. I had no idea. But church members, my parents' dear friends, immediately mobilized to take on tasks without asking. Tables were set up in the church hall. A team assembled to handle kitchen and clean-up. Ushers were on duty. The organist and pastor were at our disposal to plan the service.

And once again we filled that little church.

Not just with people, though every square inch of pew was occupied. It brimmed and overflowed with love and the Holy Spirit. Honest to goodness pipe organ music rose and rang off those cinder block walls. Prayers and remembrances were clear and heartfelt. People were comforted and consoled.

It was the fullest, most glorious celebration I could imagine for my mom, or anyone.

And bustling back and forth behind the scenes throughout the day were those same "core" people who were always so kind and attentive whenever I returned home for a visit. Unnoticed for the most part by visiting guests, they were just glad to do something for my mom, and their church.

They ministered to all of us. They acted in faith, with a foundation built on the love of Christ.

Six weeks later, my sister's husband also passed away from cancer and we were right back in the same welcoming arms. The same people rallied together without a hesitation and quietly, selflessly did it again.

I don't know how they've kept that little place going all these years. Or, maybe I do.

What do you believe?

Waiting on the Re-organization

We've had a big project going on at work this year.

We're taking several independently run profit centers and combining them into a single, encompassing entity.

Most companies call it an "integration" or a "reorganization."

It's natural that most of us employees have an ongoing twinge of distraction throughout the course of an effort like this.

There are many unanswered questions that hang out there for months and months.

"Will my job change? Will I have a new boss? Will my office move?"

But there is nothing you can do to rush the process, and no single document exists to explain every single change that is going to occur. So you wait, wonder and keep doing your daily work as best you can. That's all anyone really expects of you. All they can expect.

"That is how it will be at the coming of the Son of Man. Two men will be in the field; one will be taken and the other left. Two women will be grinding with a hand mill; one will be taken and the other left. Therefore keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord will come." Matthew 24:39-42

Keep at God's work every day, sharing the Good News, and loving his people. That's all anyone really expects of you. All they can expect.

What do you believe?

Nice work, is it new?

I finished a simple electrical project in our house during the holiday weekend. It had been partially finished for quite some time, but I wanted to do the work when neither air conditioning or heating would be a dire necessity -- just in case I had trouble with the breakers or anything.

After my wife and daughter returned from their travels, I accompanied them to the basement to show off my handiwork.

They stopped and inspected the wall plug and metal conduit running up the wall, where I had now plugged in our storage freezer. Ooh's and ahh's for the professional looking work and convenience of having an extra 20-amp plug.

I hesitated to tell them at first, and allowed a bemused smile to break out on my face.

"What's so funny?" my daughter asked?

"Well," I answered, "that's not what I did this weekend. That wall plug and conduit have been right there for the last two years. All I did was connect it to the breaker box...on the other end of the basement."

They both had a hard time believing they had been walking past the nicely done, but power-less electrical receptacle for more than two years.

We shouldn't be surprised if people don't suddenly recognize a change in us whenever we've experienced a new Spiritual insight or heard a great sermon. They're just walking past the same receptable (you/me) that was there yesterday. Looks nice, can't really use it.

But plug into the breaker box and get some power - now they can see the actionable value in their midst - you can safely plug in the freezer unit instead of haphazardly draping a wire from the light socket in the midde of the room.

I've done a lot of "nice work" on my spirtual life in past years - more Bible study, more prayer - looks nice and tidy on the wall there; but the real results are where God's power has taken action and transformed it to accomplish his good intentions: service, love, compassion, mercy, forgiveness.

You've got to plug the conduit into the power box.

What do you believe?

Twitter and Scripture...Scriptter ?

I read recently that an historical society is publishing old diary entries from John Quincy Adams. They realized that he wrote in the brief (less than 144 characters), pithy format necessary for tweets.

I've also been experimenting with Twitter. Initially, I posted a Spiritual topic or concept and linked it to a scripture--but you had to click on the link to see the scripture verse. Then I posted a few actual verses from scripture, adding my insight or reflection at the end.

Then I read one and laughed at myself! (never hurts to do that)

Sometimes there's just no need to add to perfection. No need and no way, in my case.

So now I've just been sifting through many of the highlighted verses of my Bible, the one kept open here on the table. It's amazing how much God says to us in less than 144 characters!

And something else. It's drawn me back to read the un-highlighted verses as well. You can't read and re-read your Bible too often! There is always something to learn, to reflect on, to delight in.

I love the Lord my God, and I'm grateful that he thought to leave his Word for our benefit. Even for a twittering world!

What do you believe?

Who do you say he is?

Jesus' core team knew what was being said of Jesus - and he asked them for the feedback.

Very complimentary answers...he might be one of the prophets returned to life...Elijah, Jerimiah. Or maybe John the Baptist. Pretty cool.

"But who do you say that I am?" he asked them. Matthew 16:15

We (I) sure do squirm when we have to answer that direct question in public, don't we?

Jesus didn't ask, "who do you believe that I am?" He asked, "who do you say that I am."

It should be the same answer, right? We say what we believe. Not just at church on Sunday. Anywhere.

Timothy said to be straightforward "when convenient and not convenient." 2Tim 4:2

But somehow all sorts of prefaces slip into the mix..."well, I can only speak for myself..." and, "I realize there are many different paths to the truth out there..."

It's because the stark, unprefaced answer--that we should give without shame or embarrassment of our spiritual diversity, is so far off the perceived culturally acceptable mark.

Simon Peter answered clearly, "You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God." Matthew 16:16

Peter said that immediately following Jesus' question. Jesus asked, Peter answered. No lead up or dilution.

Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God.

What do you believe?

What do you say?

He Said, "Come, follow me."

My friend Ed stopped to talk to me the day of my mother's funeral.

This was at the end of several stressful days--the sadness of losing mom, and then the myriad of details and decisions involved with her funeral and church service celebration.

Ed very gently let me know that he would be hosting a church service with lots of special music about 3 weeks from that day, and might I think about joining him and playing guitar?

Despite my steadily growing fatigue and numbness, I had not even a moment's hesitation.

"Ed, just tell me the time and place, and I will be there." That was our conversation.

3 weeks later, when I arrived at the church for the pre-service rehearsal, there was a stellar ensemble of people who had also answered Ed's call--musicians of a caliber whom I was humbled and just a little intimidated to join. They had also said yes to Ed. And they were in their chairs quietly taking direction from him and smiling to each other as each song took sumptuous shape and texture. As we each knew, Ed would gather us into his musical vision and call upon our unique, individual talents in ways that said, "I know you, and I know a special way that you can be a part of this."

It's been that way every time I've worked with Ed for the past 40 years. Every time.

All Ed has to say now is, "come, follow me."

The apostles didn't have 40 years of proven experience when they met Jesus. And yet, the Gospel's explain how Jesus gathered his group of leaders,

"Come, follow me, and I will make you fishers of men." At once they left their nets and followed him. Mark 1:17

I know how a musical service is going to turn out when I work with my friend Ed.

But how did the apostles know? And yet,

"Jesus called them, and immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him."

Matthew 4:22-23

Jesus knows you and will involve you in ways that celebrate the unique gifts with which you've been blessed. I say, 'Lord, just tell me where and when!'

What do you believe?

Mom's Passing

[My mom's struggle with cancer ended this week, about a month after celebrating her 60th wedding anniversary with my Dad. I can't describe how much I will miss her. These are the words I spoke at her funeral yesterday. Please keep my Dad in prayer.]

"Well, I gotta tell you. Things in heaven have gotten a whole lot more organized this week…One of the angels saw St. Peter himself, helping to dust the pearly gates, and the angel says, “Looks like Dolores must finally be on her way up.”

King Solomon wrote about my mom in Proverbs 31, he said

“A woman of noble character, who can find her?

She is worth far more than rubies.

Her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value.

She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy.

She is clothed in strength and dignity, she can laugh at the days to come.

She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue.

She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness.

Her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praises her.

Give her the reward she has earned, and let her works bring her praise at the city gates.”

My mom worked hard and she played hard.

She had movie star good looks, but she never considered herself pretty.

She typed parts manuals for WW II Army Trucks, and she typed term papers for her kids.

She changed diapers, and she changed lives.

She had a tender heart – and she let out robust, heartfelt laughter.

She played Rummy Royal and Dress Up with the Grandkids.

She drove across Europe and she camped her way across the Rocky Mountains.

She was quiet and genteel – but she was no pushover.

I will never forget the time I watched, in shock, as my 5’ 2” mom stood toe to toe with my towering, brick laying, stone-mason of a Grandfather, and she said, “You….are an ornery, stubborn old Dutchman!”

But that was the exception.

99.99% of the time she was the loving friend, the kind neighbor, the playful grandma, and most endearingly, the soul mate of my dad, Jerry.

The two of them have been inseparable since their last names – a “W” and a “Z”, put them in the same classroom in high school. Dad called her Spunky in some of the letters they exchanged while he served in the Navy – and he called her his tiger as she battled her own war with cancer.

And after 60 years of marriage they were still going strong in the house they built together – same phone number, same locks on the door, same maple tree in the front yard.

3 kids, 5 grandkids, hundreds of friends and countless memories of love and happiness.

My dad did a heroic job of keeping up with mom’s cancer treatments and taking care of the household this past year. But in the past few weeks, little by little, we knew that mom was failing, and it appeared as though the 60^th wedding anniversary celebration was her final milestone. We would have all loved her to be with us forever, year in and year out. But as my sister said, God is God, and we are not.

A cousin wrote a brief note to my mom before the anniversary party, and I love the way she summed things up.

“Auntie, you have always been an example of class, dignity, kindness, honesty and what a real woman is all about. I know everyone around you feels the same way.”

I’ll close with one last thought.

My mom knew she was going to heaven, because she believed in Jesus as her savior. You can know that too.

So I asked mom one day a couple months ago,

“When you get to heaven, who would you like to see first, your mom, or Jesus?”

Close family and friends knew that my mom lost her own mother when she was only 13, so seeing her again was a common theme over the years.

It didn’t surprise me too much when she said, “You know, I’ve been giving that more thought recently.” “And…?” I asked.

She said, “I don’t know if this sounds funny, but I really think I’d like to see my mom first, and then go see Jesus.”

Fine with me.

My surviving Aunt, big sister by several years to my mom, had yet another conversation with my mom and the two of them forged an agreement. If my mom didn’t meet up with their mom as she planned – she was going to round up a few people in heaven and roll some big thunder!

Tuesday morning at 3 a.m. we were gathered around my mom’s bedside, holding her hands and praying with her. We read some scripture (John 14: 1-6, John 11:23, Psalms 23 and 121) and my sister sang a beautiful lullaby. We told mom we loved her. We told her that she had prepared us for the life that is still before us.

And then finally, my dad said, “It’s ok if you want to go now. You go on now and be with your mom.”

She did, and we didn’t hear any thunder.

Right now, I know those two ladies – and a whole host of other family and friends, are celebrating a very, very joyful reunion of mother and daughter and Savior. That’s the image I’ll keep in mind in the days to come. I know my mom is smiling, and I know Jesus is smiling, too."

One path, many sets of directions

Four guys exit the health club after their workout.

"I heard good things about this new pub," John says, "why don't we all grab a quick sandwich? My treat."

They agree and John is about to give them directions, but Jim holds up his hand.

"Wait, I'm parked a few blocks over on Center street, and my car is facing south so tell me how to get there from that direction."

"Well, I think there's construction that way," John cautions, "and if I could just tell you..."

"Don't worry," Jim says over his shoulder, "I'll figure it out. More interesting this way." And he walks away toward Center street.

Jason also walks off in a different direction. "I have to pick up a couple things from the Convenient Store first," he says, "but I'll still catch up to you in plenty of time. I can ask the people at the store for directions."

"It's kind of dangerous over by that store," John cautions, "couldn't we eat first and then you can do that later, closer to your house?" But Jason is already turning the corner.

Only Jeremy is left standing with John.

"So where is this delicious new place you heard about, John? I'll walk with you."

John smiles and points at the building directly across the street. 

"It's right there."

Jeremy half laughs and exclaims as they quickly cross the street and enter the door, "Why didn't you just tell them it was right here?! Maybe they wouldn't have gone off in their own directions and put off our time together!"

John shakes his head and smiles back. "I started to with Jim, but he just waved me off as you saw, and you know Jason--he'd much rather find his own way--especially once you try to give him directions! I worry about both of them, but they're grown-ups after all, they can think for themselves!"

Jeremy steps in and the door closes behind them as they look forward to a delicious meal and good fellowship. They never see Jason or Jim again.

"Enter by the narrow gate; for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction, and there are many who go by it. But narrow is the gate and difficult is the way which leads to life, and there are few who find it." Matthew 7:13-14

What do you believe?

Fundamental-less

Sooner or later, golfers realize they have to work on the fundamentals.

Eye on the ball, keep your head down, turn at the waist, shift your weight, follow-through.

You can spot someone who consistently applies the fundamentals. Long tee shots onto the fairway, approach shots that avoid the sand traps, chip shots land near the hole.

Consistent golfers - fundamentalists.

You can also spot the fundamental-less golfers. One tee shot goes left, the next right. Their approach shots go way short of the green, way long. They're in the sand, in the lake.

They might be great athletes and smart people. But they lift their head, or choose the wrong club, or neglect to follow-through. 

Both types of golfers eventually get through the course and end up back in the clubhouse. 

But honestly, even when fundamental-less golfers say, "Well, it was nice to be outside and I had a couple of good shots," they would have preferred keeping their ball out of the trees and sand.

Fundamentalists are able to offer them helpful, succinct advice, and they do.

Still, one or two tips can change the next shot - but it doesn't change their overall "game."

So when a sincere, seeking fundamental-less asks, "how can I be more fulfilled in this game if I really want to improve?" the fundamentalist is kind to advise, "get some lessons and go to the practice range."

Learn and study. Don't take short cuts or you'll just get different bad habits.

I've never heard a fundamental-less golfer grumble, "those darn consistent fundamentals golfers - who told them they could shoot par?!"   That same outcome is accessible and attainable to them.  Sure, not everyone goes on the pro tour, and not everyone wants to. But everyone can enjoy the best possible game available. Or they can hit random shots and walk the course in frustration. But that lacks purpose.

Jesus said, 

"I have come that they might have life, and that they may have it more abundantly." John 10:10

That abundant life is accessible and freely attainable. The fundamentals are in the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. Enjoy the course!

What do you believe?

Dead tree, Deep roots

We lost an ash tree in our yard.

It had been planted there on the side lawn about a year before we moved in.

I didn't treat it any differently than the other trees, but it didn't thrive as well.

Two seasons ago I finally realized that the leaves - what few there were - looked wilted even after a good rain. And the branches weren't filling out or growing. This season there were no leaves and we pronounced it dead.

So I set to the task of digging out the stump. As expensive as  replacement trees are, I figured to save a few dollars on that part. How hard could it be for such a scrawny little tree?

As it turned out, pretty hard indeed.

Once I got below the surface, there were feeder roots everywhere. And the base trunk and root were easily double or triple the diameter of what showed above ground. It took me two days of digging and hacking to finally separate tree from earth. 

I told a few people of my struggle and one noted that trees often die from the top down. Which makes sense. The tree below the surface looked healthy and robust. It had died from the top down.

"Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. He will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes, its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit." Jeremiah 17:7

If that was true, why did my tree die? Roots looked pretty good to me.

Then the tree crew came to plant our new Black Hills spruce. It's a bigger tree, so they used a back hoe to dig out further and deeper around what I had done by hand.

There around the perimeter of what had been our ash tree was a sheet of plastic.

"Probably came wrapped around the root ball of your other tree," said the landscaper. "That could be what stopped its growth. It would have been fine for a time, but then the plastic blocked its roots."

Sometimes I meet people who have drifted from a vibrant faith to something more wilted. I even look to their root system, which seems strong enough - church attendance, family support. But there must be something blocking the growth, some plastic around the perimeter that I can't see.  Spiritual roots require spiritual nurturing and feeding. And a healthy base that extends way beyond what we can even see just below the surface. 

Let's keep an eye on each other's leaves and dig a little deeper below the surface when we ask,

how is life going for you?

What do you believe?

Porcupines and Rock Circles

We enjoyed two days of hiking along the Lake Michigan shore in our favorite state park last week. At one point we watched a sleek, fat porcupine haul himself (herself?) up 40 feet of a sweet smelling cedar .  His claws sunk into that cedar bark like fork tines through hot cherry cobbler. He paid us no mind and it was beautiful to watch such a unique creature.

Almost back to the main trail, we crossed a beach full of water-smoothed skipping stones. Tens of thousands of them are made that way by relentless water action along the north shore. We paid them no mind.

Then something caught my eye and I jerked my head to the side.

There amidst the chaos of randomly tossed stones was a design of some kind.

We stopped to study it. It was a series of concentric circles, created by placing twenty or thirty of the smoothed stones in repetitive, end to end fashion. One of the circles stood out more than the others because the selected stones were of a similar reddish hue. A single, marbled piece of granite capped the arrangement.

"Wonder who made it?" I asked, looking around the vacant beach.

"Probably one the kids we saw earlier," my wife said.

We easily recognize the presence of an intelligent design in the midst of random chaos.

We seamlessly transitioned to thoughts of the creator. Can't have one without the other.

So simple.

That shoreline is a dense maze of intelligent design. We could see it everywhere. Cedars, wild flowers, our porcupine friend.

The more scientists uncover about the complexity of single cells and genetic code, the easier it is for everyone on the beach to recognize intelligent design.

You don't just grab a handful of colored proteins and amino acids and place them in the circle of a cell. It's a fantastically complex engine that requires exacting specifications and inter-related order. 

Even scientists who apply carefully organized and ordered efforts cannot find a way to recreate the "random" event that would put those cellular elements into a circle that would create life.

They know that an intelligent designer created the cells of life, sure as I can spot a circular design of stones on a beach.

Why is that so hard to admit?

The 1st part is easy, "Looks like a circular design of stones."

The 2nd part is the hardest.

"I wonder who put it together?"

There's a wonderful, brilliant and loving creator out there and I enjoy telling him how much I appreciate his works of art--even those who are so set on denying his handiwork.

What do you believe?

Saying Grace - Anniversary

This is the blessing we said before the meal at our folks' 60th anniversary gathering:

"Lord God we thank you for this day and for all the blessings you provide.

 Thank you for the good and faithful friends, and family, who are with us here today, for those who are elsewhere, and for those who have passed into your kingdom before us.

 Thank you for all the countless memories of fellowship and love that are represented by each of these individuals, in so many different ways.

 Thank you Lord, for Jerry and Dolores, for their shining example of lives well lived and well loved.

 Most importantly Lord, thank you for the gift of your love, and the gift of eternal life that is freely available to all who choose to believe in the name of your Son Jesus.

 Now, please nourish us with this food so that we can serve you better in the name of Jesus our Lord, Amen."

What do you believe?

60th Anniversary !

Here's the toast I gave at our folks' celebration this weekend, on the occasion of their 60th anniversary:

"I’d like to use three quotes to help us toast and honor these two very honored guests.

They are both deeply spiritual people, so I’ll start with something from the Bible. This is from the apostle Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians (2:9), he said,    

“Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor mind conceived of what God has planned for those who love him.”  No one knows God’s plan. 

 Well, no one could have known God’ plan for these two people 60 years ago; No one could have envisioned the rich, wonderful life that would arrive right here, 60 years after they started together.

 I also know that each of us has lost dear family and friends before their 80^th birthdays, so we can all appreciate that their age alone is a gift. But while God has helped keep both of them safe and alive in our midst, they have also helped to keep their marriage safe and alive. In a world that is sometime careless and dismissive of marriage, my parents have taught me that it is a commitment worth fighting for, even living for – and here they are to prove it.

 The 2^nd quote is from their “Song.” For those of you who don’t know, the title of their signature, couples’ song is “Always.” My favorite version is by Tony Bennett, and it goes like this: 

“I’ll be loving you, always. With a love that’s true, always. When the things you’ve planned, need a helping hand, I will understand, always. Not for just an hour, not for just a day, not for just a year, but always.”

 As they’ve grown old together, we can all see the genuine tenderness between them. They have helped each other, they have been there for each other – and for all of us – not for just an hour, or a day, or even 60 years – but for always.

 This last quote is from a song by Mark Heard. It’s what I think of most when I look at these two high school sweethearts, and realize the essence of what is most important. The quote goes like this…

“Love is not the only thing – but it’s the best thing

Love is never everything – but it’s the best thing.”

 Let’s raise our glasses and toast to two people who have lived well, and have loved well.    

 To Jerry and Dolores !  "

An Uncommon 20th Anniversary ?

In a month of anniversary's - my parents 60th, my 30th of joining my company - I heard of a less commonly celebrated milestone yesterday.

I mentioned an old testament verse during lunch with a friend of mine. It had stuck with me from that morning's Bible study.

He casually noted in return that an uncle had just concluded a bible study with his friends. It was a detailed study of the first five old testament books.

"Cool," I said, "how long did it take them?"

Plenty of people do serial studies like that, so I was curious whether they had chosen a chapter per week, or a book per season or something. His answer surprised me.

"Twenty years," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"Twenty years."

What kind of determination and discipline must that require? And what wonderful fellowship they must have shared, amongst themselves and with God.

An anniversary worthy of note, to be sure.

What do you believe?

"Those Were Troubling Times..."

I begrudgingly muttered the words last week, "these are troubling times."

Hey, I had good reason - I hear many people worry over corrupt, selfish governments with inept, ineffective leaders who use their state-influenced media to manipulate the uniformed "electorate." And that's just in my own country!

But then two readings greatly encouraged me.

Back 2,400 years ago, the prophet Jeremiah relayed God's message that the people being exiled to Babylon should not give up - to the contrary, they should persevere to thrive and flourish within the oppressive setting!

"Build houses and settle down, plant gardens and eat what they produce...Increase in number there; do not decrease. Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper."  Jeremiah 29:5-7

God then promises that better times are ahead for his people,

"For I know the plans I have for you, " declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11

Ah, thank you! Great reminder. 

We work for God's kingdom right where we are. Right here, right now. The 'troubling times' never cease, but neither do God's plans for our future.

The second reminder came from last Sunday's Gospel reading at church.

The apostles start to panic as a terrible storm overtakes their boat. In their fear they cry to Jesus, 

"Teacher, don't you care if we drown?"

He quickly calms the storm - to their relief - but the teaching moment isn't just about the miracle:

"He said to his disciples, 'Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?'" Mark 4:37-40

Here they have the Son of God next to them in the boat - they know this guy - and yet they're wringing their hands, wondering 'if he cares' for their predicament.

Of course he does, and I get it.

I might just have well have stood up and whined, 'Lord, don't you care if I drown down here?'

He was there at the exile, he was there on the boat. He's here with us now.

It's not time to panic, it's time to thrive and prosper, even as we

'seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile.'

I can do that. And I am greatly encouraged.

What do you believe?

Phil Keaggy - "For Dolores"

About 14 Christmas's ago, my Mom had this smile on her face when she said, "I've got one more gift for you."

I unwrapped a very beautiful Washburn acoustic guitar - personally autographed across the front by Phil Keaggy.

If you ask most in-the-know guitar players to list the best of the best, Phil Keaggy will be at or near the top of their all time list, usually  ahead of Jimi Hendrix. He's also one of the most prolific, beloved Christian recording artists of the last 30 years, and still a must-see-live performer. 

My mom had been at the local Christian book store to buy Phil's latest CD, "True Believers."

By coincidence, Phil was scheduled for an in-store appearance. Knowing my love for Phil's music (my first Christian album was also his first,  1976's "What a Day" ) mom decided to wait for Phil to show up and sign the CD. 

She waited over an hour, but sure enough Phil appeared. Maybe a little surprised to have a grandma waiting for a signed copy of his Christian rock-genre music, Phil signed the face of the CD, "To Tom - Your Mom is #1 in Line."

The store owners were tickled by my mom's enthusiasm and told her to stay for the name drawing, one lucky winner to get the signed Washburn guitar. So my dear, sweet mother, with Christmas to prepare for and countless other errands to run, cooled her heels while Phil stayed and signed autographs. But sure enough, her name was called and she again got to chat with Phil. 

"Your Tom's mom, you were first in line," is how mom explained the story amidst the family pandemonium and joy over my receipt of that very, very treasured gift of a lifetime.

Last night we drove four hours round trip to again see Phil in concert. Our tickets included a backstage opportunity to shake hands and snap a few photos. Each person seemed to have a especially favorite song or memory to share and Phil listened patiently, kindly and with a genuine warmth for his fans.

"You might not remember this Phil, but you signed a guitar for my mom many years ago - she was #1 in line and you signed that on a CD."

I'm not sure Phil recalled that exact moment among his storied career highlights, but he quickly asked, "and how is your mom?"

I hesitated for a moment, aware that we weren't the last in line to meet Phil, and his concert curtain only 15 minutes away.

"She's got cancer, Phil, and she's getting ready for hospice care. But she's still hanging in there."

Like an old friend of the family, Phil's diminutive form sagged a little, and I saw in those crinkling, kindly empathetic  eyes that this is a man whose ministry goes far beyond CD's and concert tickets.  

Our family stood beside Phil for one last photograph and he held out his index finger to form the #1.  Conversations stopped for a moment and people leaned in a little to listen as Phil smiled and said,

"This is for Dolores, she's number one!"

It's Not Just the Bicycle...

Most summer days I get out and ride anywhere from 12 - 20 miles along rolling, country highways. I love these rides that meander through farmland and past nearby creeks and rivers. It's relaxing and soothing, challenging and strenuous.

While it seems second nature to me now, it's been a learning process.

When I bought a bike back in 2006, the salesman asked me what I intended to do. Fitness? Distance?  I didn't know. I just wanted to get some exercise and enjoy the outdoors. Running had lost its luster. I wanted to cover more ground, see more variety when I exercised.

He asked questions meant to help me find a starting point for cycling. He realized that I might become the frequent rider that I am now, but didn't push it. 

So, after starting out on a heavier, slower "hybrid" bike, I now have a lighter, faster "road bike." While I first biked only in warm/hot weather, I now have some wind resistant clothing that helps to extend my biking season by adding cold days to the mix. Insulated covers for my bike shoes stopped the 'numbing' that resulted from brisk spring or autumn winds. 

A bright light on the front and red flashers on the back of the seat keep me safe when I'm returning at dusk. I've also learned the value of good maintenance, keeping tires up to pressure and the chain cleaned and lubricated. And the speedometer/odometer helps me plan my routes and manage my time. I'm surprised that some of the hardest routes and hills no longer seem so daunting, so I can ride a little farther, a little faster. 

At it's core, bike riding is simple, but you can go much deeper into the experience if you want to.

At its core, Christianity is a simple - and liberating - concept of unmerited grace from a loving God, promised for eternity. You can choose a basic Bible and attend church on 1 of the available 7 days each week. But as you dig deeper into it, it becomes helpful to search for certain topics and passages with a concordance or commentary. Bible studies go that one better when you can share your questions and insights with fellow sojourners. Prayer extends your 1 day a week visit with God to every hour of every day if you'd like. And I'm constantly learning that the steepest hills of selfishness, pride and resentment are easier to conquer with God's special Believer's accessory...the Holy Spirit. (Still available for a limited time.)

You can cover equal distances with a heavy bike or a lighter bike. You can freeze in the wind, or protect yourself with effective gear. Either way you might blow a tire and have to fix it on the side of the road. But before complaining about the ride you're having, make sure you're not overlooking any of the available help, or Helpers.

What do you believe?  

Fictions Books - Revisited

Update: I never did find out whodunnit in that fiction book I stopped reading. The Lord's name was habitually used in vain, and it just didn't seem right to keep reading.

And now I've gone and read another that throws in "Jesus" and "Christ" amidst the dialog.

However, the characters of this fiction author, Teri Blackstock, are speaking with reverence and thanksgiving. They acknowledge the Savior of the world and Son of God as one and the same with "Jesus" and "Christ" (the 'anointed one' in Greek). Along the way, Teri's book Double Minds fits the bill for a good summer read. Together with Ted Dekker, Randy Alcorn and Frank Perreti, she is a dependable Christian fiction author. Enjoy!

What do you believe?

6th on the List

The tenth commandment (Exodus 20:13) is simple and clear:

"You shall not murder."

But it seems natural for people to equivocate on matters of clarity.

Here's a hypothetical example of this:

Let's say one man kills another and it is not a situation of self defense.

Without any other background information, this sounds like murder, and referring back to the commandment, it is sinful and unacceptable to God (and therefore, us)

Now let's say that the one man murdered the other because the slain man had himself been murdering other people, but it was still not self defense (nor in the sense that war is self defense).

Well, I naturally want the original murderer stopped, but it's still murder to kill him in kind. Morever, societies put in place authorities to deal with that - these are God given, or modeled after, rules of law. People universally expect to be protected against murder. So, no, you can't just act on your own to murder someone else. It's morally and legally wrong.

Ok, but what if the one man was killing innocent children?

It's still murder to kill him, and wrong. Tell the authorities and count on the rule of law to deal with the first murderer.

But, what if this first man systematically murdered as many as 60,000 innocent babies right in your midst, and took money for it (millions), and even used that same blood money to corrupt the very gov't authorities who should be prosecuting him? What if the second man, seeing this, murdered the first murderer just to make him stop?

No, even then, it is not right to murder him. 

Both men are now murderers and guilty - both in need of repentance according to God's words.

And both, as murderers, are not worthy of any adulation or equivocation. They are heroes to no one. Worse. You could try to argue from a moral equivalency that the one was at best 60,000 times worse than the other and has at least been stopped. But even in the hypothetical sense that is clearly, unambiguously flawed! 

Sin is sin, and wrong is wrong. Hopefully, the society in this hypothetical case would themselves step forward and apply the God-given rule of law to stop the paid murderer of children, and refuse to let him prey on other desperate people, or to prosper in their midst.

What do you believe?

Graduation - For Apostles ?

We attended a friend's college graduation this month. Mixed in with commencement advice and inspiration was caution and concern for the economy, culture and geo-political balance. There was also some humor about "moving out of the house" for which parents chuckled.

One of the dad's at my next bible study also picked up this graduation theme. He noted that Jesus 11 apostles were facing this same precarious nest-leaving situation. They'd had excellent training and even completed some "internship work" as Jesus sent them out to neighboring villages on their own. (See Luke, Chapters 9 and 10)

But, soon after his resurrection from the grave, Jesus again departed - before their eyes - for heaven.

"It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."  Acts 1: 7-8

No commencement address or doctoral thesis could have prepared them for the combined shock of loss and realization that they were stepping from follower to leader - in one instant. But they were not merely trained and prepared. Jesus also sent the Holy Spirit - a Counselor and Advocate.  So they were never truly alone, even as they did venture to the ends of the earth, sharing the Good News as they had been instructed.

Wouldn't it be nice if, as parents, we could send along an infinitely wise counselor and advocate to guide and advise our children after they graduate and leave home? A compassionate and kind-hearted companion for the journey? To be there, when we are not (when there's no cell phone access?)

I'm convinced that any parent aware of this opportunity would send letters, stand in line, and yes, sacrifice personal comfort in order to ensure their child access to this resource. Even if it was the last thing they did before seeing them on their way after graduation.

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do  not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid."  John 14:27

Introduce them to Jesus, before they hit the road.

 What do you believe?

Memorial Day - My Namesake Hero

I listened to a couple of old Navy Vets swap stories over the Memorial Day weekend.

These 80-somethings can still describe, in crisp detail, the intricacies of photo-mapping a battlefield while accounting for the cross wind drift of their Navy propellor craft.

Their personal paths to the 1940's Pensacola Navy photo school could not have been more different - or more similar.

Different, because while Jerry was finishing high school and hanging out with his girlfriend on the weekends, Tom was finishing high school far from his boyhood California home, interred in a Denver Nisei camp for Japanese Americans.

Similar, because they both loved their country and were prone to build loyal, lasting friendships with people who counted.  Jerry saw only a new friend, who happened to have Japanese heritage, and Tom saw only a new friend, not a representative of the people who wrongly mistreated his family.

After cementing that Navy friendship, they've never lost touch, whether months or years have passed. They've fished together, celebrated holidays together, and taken joy in each other's children and grandchildren.

When Jerry and his young wife had a son, they named him Tom. Not Thomas, lest their intention be confused with the apostle's name.  No, it was Tom, so it was clear to everyone for whom they had named their son.

I've always known him as my Uncle Tom. When you're little, it doesn't occur to you that Uncle's are usually related by blood. But my Uncle Tom may just as well have been. He was, and is, family to all of us, along with Aunt Pat and the kids.

Over the years Uncle Tom and I have shared something else, even more special than our name. We've also shared our love of the Gospel, and the Good News of Jesus. You see, my Uncle Tom isn't just a good man and a good friend, he is a man of God. He personifies for me what I wish all people would recognize in a Christian walk - kindness, compassion, peace and forgiveness.

Uncle Tom knows what it means to forgive - and I know what if means to see Christ in another person's life.

I can't count how many times I've had to correct people when they write my name on an official document.

"It's not Thomas, it's Tom."

I was named for my Dad's friend Tom.  When I grow up, I would be honored to be just like him.

What do you believe?

Planets Reflect the Light

We've talked about buying a telescope for years and years, and finally did so this spring.

I'm looking forward to a warm summer's evening and a starry, starry night.

Searching the internet for astronomy sites and insights, I tried the keywords "planets," "reflect" and "light" in different combinations.

I was surprised to come across a number of sermon topics related to this theme:

Think of Jesus as the Sun. Then whenever you are able to see and appreciate the beauty of the planets or moons in our solar system, they are not emitting their own light, they are reflecting the light of the Sun.

Jesus said,

"I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life."  John 8:12

It's a good reminder to me, humbling, that I am not the light. I walk in the light. I reflect the light of love, kindness, compassion, forgiveness and mercy -- when I am in view of the Son.  But as soon as I stray from the Light of Jesus, it's easy to stumble or lose my way.

I'll consider this new perspective when I look through our telescope on a starry, starry night!

What do you believe?

Too Much Mulch! It's a Gift...

I over-ordered mulch for our landscaping. Again.

We live on a very windy hill, and the winter winds blow our landscaping mulch every which way.  If you could put a GPS on mulch,  our entire neighborhood would glow on the satellite images with the note, "mulch blown over from that guy on the corner lot."

Anyway, I really just needed some topsoil this spring, but I ordered extra mulch out of habit. I mean, when have I not needed mulch? Well, I didn't need this much.

So, I told the neighbors to the side of me, 'please, feel free to wheelbarrow as much mulch as you like.' But they had some ordered already. 'Cancel the order,' I suggested hopefully.  But, their mulch plan was firmly entrenched.

And so I continued telling neighbors one by one.  They had their own, or felt funny about taking mine.

Finally, I caught up with a neighbor who had been out of town, and he gladly agreed to use whatever I could not. In fact, he said he had under-ordered mulch, whereas I had over-ordered.  'But, I want to pay for the share I use,' he generously offered.

'Not necessary,' I replied, 'you're actually doing me a favor.' And I meant it. He looked a bit uncomfortable with those terms, but we left it at that.  Now the mulch is off my driveway and his landscaping looks great. I sincerely hope he doesn't follow up with cash for what I intended as a gift. I was really happy with the way it turned out.

Question though: Have I ever gone to that much trouble to share the gift of the gospel with these same neighbors? Literally stopping them in their yard - or crossing the street to say, 'I know where you can get wheelbarrows and wheelbarrows full of Grace. It never runs out. The wind never blows it away. And, it's unconditionally free. A gift that you only have to receive.'

No - because they look like they probably don't need it. I see their cars drive away on Sunday morning, presumably to the church of their choice. They seem like kind, upstanding citizens. It might be awkward, me talking about the free gift of eternal redemption. Something that could change their lives, or their extended friends and family.

It was the last person I talked to that accepted the mulch. His yard looked great before we talked. It looks even better now. I'm glad we had the chance to talk. I'm even happier he chose to accept the neighborly gift.

What do you believe?