August Burning

Chasing the End of the World

2009-08-19T05:30:00.000-07:00

Rode the motorcycle this morning on the nice straightaway at Shelby Farms. Clouds were shrouding the sun and cast a nice, calm glow through my shield and glasses. One of my favorite things to do since college is to ride west and look at the horizon and the shifting colors and mazes of the sky. This morning as I was riding eastward I glanced in the side views as the west was darkened but beginning to wake up. I whispered to myself, "There's something about moving westward; it's like chasing the end of the world." Let me begin there.

I have felt for several years that I'm in a pursuit of something meaningful, powerful and noble. Though I would love to slay a dragon I realize it is not that. Anyway, I have felt for a while that God was slowly and methodically calibrating and recalibrating my heart, mind and values toward something that I would spend the rest of my life cultivating. Through job searches, job changes, massive transitions from university, to seminary, to working multiple jobs, to moving across country to perplexing disappointment - it has felt like I was moving westward; chasing the end of the world. Life is a mystery, no?

Well, I have begun the process of pursuing ordination in the PCA (Presbyterian Church in America). After almost a year of deliberation and conferring with those who know me well and books, books, books I decided that as far as theology goes, the PCA is the better fit. Specifically covenant + reformed theology and church governance (elders and deacons). I could possibly write a lot on each one of those, but for brevity's sake I won't.

Next step is licensure, which means I take 3-4 exams on a wide swath of topics. This will then give me the clearance to preach in the PCA and then pursue ordination. I'm very happy about this decision; it's been a very tough road, venturing out into the winding and disorienting wilderness of parts unknown. And after 5 years of thinking, studying, talking, praying and occassional fasting God has been generous to open up a wide vista in front of me. And there I am able to see the goodness that is to be enjoyed.

We have found a great PCA Church, Redeemer that's about 5 minutes from our house. Violet loves it and Barb and I are thrilled to be a part of what God is doing there. Years ago if you were to have asked me, "What do you hope for?" I would've given you an answer that is very similar to what Redeemer is - theologically conservative and missionally motivated. There's a lot more to it than that, and I hope to add more later on, but what God is doing in Redeemer is wonderful and exciting.

Tomatoes, Cake and Happy Birthday

2009-08-02T17:04:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we celebrated my Mom's birthday. She's well above the speed limit on rural roads. She's still probably a harder worker than me. Is sweeter than ice tea. We stopped and got her some flowers and a card, which I subsequently forgot. Btw, for those of you who will be attending my funeral, please make sure I remember to bring my shoes. If anyone would forget it would be me. Anywho, Barb made a stellar chocolate cake - recipe from America's Test Kitchen; we don't cook from any other cookbook.

Violet loves her Mammaw. She giggles as we come down the driveway. We are inevitably greeted by at least 3 of the neighbors 5 dogs with howls. My sister, Lori, comes out immediately and Mammaw gets the 30.8 pounds of crisp, bubbling, joy. It's wonderful seeing Violet interact with Mom like that. Moreover, to see how my Mom treated me whilst I was a youngin.

Violet loves her cousins. At one point the shrills from the kids running, yelling and playing hard was a bit more than my old dad ears can take. I'm seriously turning into the old man now. When I sit down a majority of the times I make the old man, "Ooohhhwahhh" sound. Kind of like when 18 wheelers release the hydraulics.

We enjoyed the 90 minute drive home. We listened, as usual, to an episode of the White Horse Inn. The topic was justification, which I've been studying about lately. It has opened my eyes to the grace of God and the reality of ongoing sin in the life of a Christian. I hope to follow this topic in the upcoming days.

About to sit down with Barb and watch an episode or three of Scrubs. We need to laugh and laugh a lot. Gotta post some pictures of my 2 tomatoe plants that are taller than me. Less handsome.

Considering a New Beginning

2009-07-12T13:24:00.001-07:00

Wow, so I have taken a much needed break from writing. It's been over a year since my last post, and needless to say, a lot has taken place. A change of job, an ever-changing two-year old, and a lot of internal switches that I'm struggling to figure out. So, over the past month or so I have been giving some deliberate thought to kick starting this thang again and see how it goes. Barb talked to me the other day . . . "Why don't you write anymore? When is the last time you wrote?" And I kind of realized that personal writing is a monitor for me. It means I am taking time away from the hustle and grind to be reflective and by so doing, to be creative. So, hopefully very soon I will begin posting a series of updates for our family and then build a skeleton of how it might work.

So, good bye for now.

Driving this Blog into the Ditch

2008-03-05T03:42:00.000-08:00

About 3 and a half years ago I cranked up my ole technology box and landed on Blogger. I had been wanting a forum to write my thoughts and wanted to sharpen my writing skills. This blog morphed into several things including a way for family to keep up with our goings on on the West Coast, an avenue for people within the church I was serving to read what's going on behind the sermons, and a way for Anonymous to at once encourage me and to harass me. But, alas, the time has come to put it to bed.

But, why, Jason? You might find that question and consternation bubbling up within you right now. I've been mulling this decision because I didn't want to pull a Michael Jordan and retire and unretire several times before sunrise. I pastor a great church in Memphis--Neighborhood Church--and I need to give more time to reading and writing for the tasks at hand there. If I have anything worthwhile to contribute, then it'll probably show up there. Since I am bi-vocational I have another job too, which is going to be asking a lot out of me. I need to give myself fully to both of these ventures.

I believe in simplicity and try to live it. And driving this blog into the ditch is a way for me to achieve it in some small way. If you would like to contact me you may do so through Neighborhood Church's website www.ncmidtown.com You'll find me on the staff page, of course.

So, now, may the Lord bless you and keep you and cause his face to shine upon you. May he give you grace all the days of your life.

Thanks,

Jason

Fire Museum

2008-02-05T09:25:00.000-08:00

This is Violet and her buddy Lyndon, who turned two this past week. He invited her and a bunch of his gang to the Fire Museum downtown. What a blast it was! Lyndon is a big brother now, so you can see that he is learning to be very gentle with someone smaller than him.

God has really been gracious to us since we have moved here. We have almost been here 2 years and last summer we were just getting grounded in the 'hood. By the end of the summer people recognized us, would stop and talk with us, and were extremely friendly. We have grown in friendships here, and glory to God for that!

Yesterday was unbelievable--it is February and the temperature was over 70 degrees. So we loaded up the stroller and leashed the dog and headed out for a great walk around Cooper Young. We were stopped by a few people who were interested in our dog. And then we ran into some neighbors/friends and met someone else who has 7 week old twins. Had a great conversation with them. In November the 'hood goes into hibernation and we haven't seen our neighbors almost all winter. Yesterday, though, a neighbor ran out to greet us as we were walking. Extraordinary to live here now.

The church is growing and is doing well. We are very confident that God has big things in store for us this year. We'll have 2 more babies by the end of summer, which will almost mean that there are more babies than adults. Our hospitality team is probably the youngest of any church around! Robert and I are preaching through Genesis. The audio and/or the sermon notes will be available through our website: www.ncmidtown.com Look under "Featured Audio" under the picture or "Resources."

Please continue to pray for Bob Griffin and his daughters, Basia and Bo. He is on our hearts constantly as is his and Linda's family.

Please pray

2008-01-29T06:12:00.000-08:00

Here is a link to the updates about our friends in California. Please pray for them.

Thanks be to God for the great care Bob, Basia and Bo are receiving. Thank you so much for praying for this family that is loved by us and so many others.

How Faint a Whisper

2008-01-02T07:16:00.000-08:00

In mid-February I'm traveling to CA to speak at a church retreat. A friend of mine from seminary who is a pastor of a church in San Jose asked me to come. The theme is ELEVATE. My friend's desire is that their church would elevate their view of God in 2008. That, of course, is my hope too for me, my family and the church I get the privilege of pastoring. I must say, though, that is is quite humbling when someone says, "I want you to give five sermons on God. We want our view of God to be elevated." That's a lot of material! I've been working and reading and writing on it for a month already and it's been quite enlightening. And it's also been humbling. Actually, I think a better descriptor would be humiliating, which I think is good.

How is it that one can be a believer for so many years and pastor for several years and yet open the Scripture and say, "I don't even know a tenth of one percent." I can tell you how. It is because God, the God who revealed/s himself in Scripture, the One True God, is holy, magnificent, infinite, immortal and beautiful. I think that Job said it really well when, speaking of God's creating and sustaining powers, says "and these are just the outskirts of his works; how faint the whisper we hear of him! Who can understand the thunder of his power?" (Job 26:14).

Woman rejected by hospital and dies

2007-12-28T05:14:00.000-08:00

A woman in Japan, elderly, ill, but beloved by God died because she was refused treatment at 30 hospitals. Here's the story. Why should this ever happen? I'm sure that this happens more than it makes the news. Japan has a shortage of doctors? Yikes. People getting turned away from medical care happens in America all of the time. I know someone personally who went to the ER for chest pains and because he didn't have insurance they didn't treat him. He died of a heart attack IN the waiting room. What is the right thing to do? What if the woman wasn't Japanese, but was, say, American? What if she was turned away and died? Should it matter if a person has insurance or not? Should we all not help take care of one another?

We say America is a Christian country yet other "pagan" countries have free, universal health care. I did mission work in Canada. That great country is 2% and has universal health care. I would talk to people who didn't know Christ and this was their mindset, "We need to take care of the least. So what it isn't me. One day it will be me. It's the right thing to do." 10 years ago this conversation took place and I still think about it.

I am lucky to have great servants in my city and church who work in the medical field. I hear their stories about the men and women of all ages who come in. Our city, Memphis, is hurting. She is hurting physically, spiritually, psychologically and relationally. I hear these stories and I am befuddled, saddened and deeply disturbed. If we really believed, as Christians, Jesus' teachings I really do think we would seriously reconsider our views of health care.Is it socialized or is it Christianized medicine?

Someone reading this might say I'm liberal. Well, apparently I'm in good company. Below are just SOME of what God says about the poor. As I have reflected on these passages I can't help but to see my shortcomings in relating to the poor and ministering to them. One of my prayers for the past 18 months has been for God to open my eyes to the plight of the poor in Memphis, this city he loves. I have prayed for a heart of compassion, a head of discernment, and hands of charity. As we read this list I pray that God would teach us both, give us grace and not guilt, and help us to take care of the least and the well-off.

Luke 4:16-21. And He came to Nazareth, where He had been brought up; and as was His custom, He entered the synagogue on the Sabbath, and stood up to read... "The Spirit of the LORD is upon Me, because He appointed Me to preach the gospel to the poor. He has sent Me to proclaim release to the captives, and recovery of sight to the blind, to set free those who are downtrodden, to proclaim the favorable year of the LORD... Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing."
Ps. 140:12. I know that the LORD will maintain the cause of the afflicted, and justice for the poor.
Is. 25:4. For You have been a defense for the helpless, a defense for the needy in his distress.
Ps. 10:14. The unfortunate commits himself to You; You have been the helper of the orphan... O LORD, You have heard the desire of the humble; You will strengthen their heart, You will incline Your ear to vindicate the orphan and the oppressed.
Is 41:17. The afflicted and needy are seeking water, but there is none, and their tongue is parched with thirst. I, the LORD, will answer them Myself, as the God of Israel I will not forsake them.
Luke 6:20-21. Blessed are you who are poor, for yours in the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who hunger now, for you shall be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now, for you shall laugh.
James 2:5. Did not God choose the poor of this world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom which He promised to those who love Him?

Deut. 26:12. When you have finished paying the complete tithe of your increase in the third year, the year of tithing, then you shall give it to the Levite, to the stranger, to the orphan and the widow, that they may eat in your towns, and be satisfied.

Lev. 19:19ff. Now when you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not reap to the very corners of your field, neither shall you gather the gleanings of your harvest. Nor shall you glean your vineyard, nor shall you gather the fallen fruit of your vineyard; you shall leave them for the needy and for the stranger. I am the LORD your God.

Prov. 31:8ff. [Commandment to kings.] Open your mouth for the dumb, for the rights of all the unfortunate. Open your mouth, judge righteously, and defend the rights of the afflicted and needy.

Is. 58:66ff. Is this not the fast which I choose, to loosen the bonds of wickedness, to undo the bands of the yoke, and to let the oppressed go free, and break every yoke? Is it not to divide your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into the house; when you see the naked, to cover him, and not to hide yourself from your own flesh?

Jer. 22:3. Do justice and righteousness, and deliver the one who has been robbed from the power of his oppressor. Also do not mistreat or do violence to the stranger, the orphan, or the widow; and do not shed innocent blood in this place.

Luke 12:33. "Sell your possessions and give to charity; make yourselves purses which do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near, nor moth destroys."

Luke 3:11. And [John the Baptist] would answer and say to them, "Let the man with two tunics share with him who has none, and let him who has food do likewise."

Mt. 5:42. Give to him who asks of you, and do not turn away from him who wants to borrow from you.

The Best 2 Paragraphs I Could Possibly Write Today

2007-12-18T07:59:00.000-08:00

[I'm currently working on a number of sermons that I will preach in 2008. Some will be with my church and some will be in other contexts. I think I have about 18-24 sermons in the works. The excerpt below is one on the Spiritual Discipline of Confession. At this point in the sermon preparation I gather notes from authors, construct paragraphs, jot down notes that I think are applicable, write down passages that come to mind as I think, write and pray. This paragraph may or may not end up in the sermon in the long run, but it is something that I hope permeates all of what I do.]

As a pastor I have a look into the lives of others that many don't have. Sometimes it is a great blessing and burden, a burden not necessarily being negative. I get to share weddings, births and even funerals with people. I get invited into the personal lives of strangers and friends. People tell me things they wouldn’t tell Oprah. At times I have received phone calls in which people tell me they’re about to give up on a relationship that means a lot to them, or hat they have committed a sin they need to confess. At times I’ve been in my office and someone has come in with a frightful, panicked look on their face and they begin to lay bare their very deep hurts. With many experiences and failures I have had to come to grips that some people just want to temporarily ease their guilt. Some don’t want answers; they want a listening ear. Some want answers, but I can’t give it to them (people want to change overnight, not over time). I can be quite passive in these events and just sit back and listen. But I have become convinced that I have to put that aside and really step up and proclaim the gospel to them as they are on the phone or two feet away from me.

I have begun taking people to 1 John 1:9, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just, and will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” I like to preach; I call it the ministry of proclamation. I have learned too that it is appropriate to preach to people, to declare to people one-to-one, even if they are Christians already. When someone sins and has unconfessed sins they really have unresolved guilt and shame too. They need to have their minds captured by the gospel again. I need it too. If I am completely sure they understand the gospel I preach to them, it goes something like this:

“Let me tell you something right now. I’m so glad that you felt like you could come to me. I’m glad that God has opened your eyes so that you can see you are wrong and that he is right. I’m very happy that you are following the Spirit’s prompting. God is not mad at you right now. He is not angry with you right now. He placed his anger on Jesus and turned away from Jesus so that now in your sin he could turn his face toward you. He placed his wrath on Jesus so that your life would not grow dim like that the day at Calvary when the sky grew dark as God turned his face away from Jesus. God is not abandoning you. He abandoned Jesus for you. You might feel that right now you have been at your worst, but God is at his best. You might feel that you are very far from God, but God has moved your sin very far from you, from the east to the west. When you walk out that door in a moment you do so under the forgiving and cleansing blood of Jesus. When you go to church and worship you can do so under the satisfaction that your sins are forgiven. . . let me tell you about the power of Jesus' forgiving blood. . .”

[I try to explain, when I can, how Jesus’ blood is different from Abel’s. Abel’s blood cries out for vengeance and justice. Jesus’ blood cries out for mercy and forgiveness. Jesus’ blood atones and advocates for us. That is what I tell you today.

Have a Merry Christmas and let us not forget that the Jesus in the crib is the Jesus on the cross. Both crib and cross are evidence that God loves us and came down to redeem us. . .Peace on Earth and Mercy mild, God and sinners reconciled.]

From Crib to Cross

2007-12-11T07:00:00.000-08:00

What a great worship gathering we had Sunday evening! It was one of my favorites thus far, with or without the Baklava or soups. Our church celebrated our first Christmas together with a meal, emphasis on Advent Conspiracy and then looked at the birth of Christ.

Jesus is the reason for the season, cliche but true. But I think that we often make the mistake this time of year by isolating the manger, the crib, from the rest of the story, including the cross. Picking up at Luke chapter 2 is like starting with Heroes season two not knowing that they did indeed have to save the cheerleader to save the world. There's so much to it. We opened with John 3:16, that great verse, which explains that God sent Jesus to the crib and to the cross out of love. So, instead of just isolating a few passages about the birth of Christ we looked at prophecies that Christ fulfilled. There are many people who can out think and out write and out speak me about prophecies (why or why they are not true), but we have to admit that it is difficult to manipulate how/where we are born and how/where we will die.

I ran across this great resource from Rich Deem, whose website is packed with info. I haven't read but a small percentage of his site (it has over 1,000 pages), but it is a great resource for those wanting to know a lot more about various topics.

Using Deem's resource we looked at some of the qualities of Jesus. It's wonderful. We talk about how the gospel is supposed to not just be information but transformation. We are discovering that they are both linked. We need to be renewed and transformed in our minds by the truth, the information of God's word. My hope on Sunday evening and now as I write this is that this would humble whoever reads it and would pull us into a deeper desire for worship.

Here are a few things that the Scripture foretold about Jesus. Jesus would be from Eve, the lineage of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, tribe of Judah, from the family of Jesse. He would be a shepherd to his people and not only to his people but to all ethnic groups. He would be anointed and eternal, born of a virgin, worshipped by shepherds and honored by kings. He would be declared teh son of God, speak in parables and arise like a prophet from among the people. The blind, deaf, and lame would be healed. He would be meek and mile and would minister to the Gentiles. He would bind up the brokenhearted, intercede for people, give rest to souls. He would also be rejected by his own people, not believed, betrayed by a close friend, and while being accused and spit upon, he would remain silent. He would subsequently be scourged and hated without reason. He would be vicarious sacrifice and crucified with malefactors. Pierced. Sneered. Reproached. He would be forsaken by God but would be resurrected. He would establish a new covenant, ascended to the right hand of God and be sought by all people groups.

I'm a Hero

2007-12-03T13:05:00.000-08:00

Hey, I'm a hero. No, not that kind, or this kind, (I wish I was this kind) but today I was this. Like LifeBlood's site says, if you give a unit of blood you save the life of 4 people. Memphis has the eighth largest medical center in the nation and its busiest trauma center. They now have this frequent donor card that you can redeem for things other than t-shirts. It's a token of their appreciation. Great facility. I was even able to surf the internet while give a nice fist every 7 seconds. Very friendly. Check out LifeBlood, RedCross and while living in California I was able to give to the Blood Centers of the Pacific. It's the holidays and they all really need the donations. Oh, a dessert comes with! Perfecto. It took me less than 30 minutes.

Lord of a Winter's Heart

2007-11-28T05:52:00.000-08:00

Man, dude, today proves that I am pretty much like everyone else. Slept 5 minutes too long, which somehow made me 10 minutes late. Kinda sleepy. Beyond grumpy. Blew my horn and almost my top at this guy who only had about 1/4 of his automobile in my lane. Just in a mood. If I was a mood ring I would be amber, but maybe tettering into gray. The gas needed was basically laying in the fetal position so I stopped at Ike's and filled up. As I was standing out in the chill and smelling the scrambled egg mixed with exhaust odor from IHOP a few blocks away I said to myself, "Hey, guess what moody Jane? You have to go up and study Scripture and write about it!" Nice. Nothing like being convicted by your own internal voice. Should he speak so loud so early in the morning? He gets up before I do apparently. Grumble.

Have you ever felt like that? Yeah, who hasn't and who doesn't? Sometimes it takes a night's rest to kinda restart the engine, reboot the hard drive, or cause the sun to rise again. But that's life, ya'll. Even when we feel this way we need to drag our sorry carcass to Jesus, confess our stuff and sit in silence and let him wash it away with his word. That, incidentally, is supposed to be how I interact with Barb. Hmm, more conviction. Yikes. This day is in need of grace and it's quite early yet.

It's in these moments that I need God to come to me more than ever, not to say I don't need him when I'm mood ring blue. I need him to come when I'm not looking for him and not looking forward to seeing him. I need him when I'm disappointed with myself or let down because things aren't running as smoothly as I wish they would. Sometimes being faith-full is a lot harder than being faithful.

And then there was Anna, the daughter of Phanuel, who had been with her husband about the same amount of time I've been with Barb. He died and left her a widow. Luke 2:36-38 says she spent the rest of her life worshiping God, fasting and praying. What do we do when life becomes difficult? Though we are tempted to withdraw and shrink into ourselves we need to place ourselves in the community of faith and in the presence of God, cultivating the soil even when it seems rocky, bumpy or frozen over. So I'm hoping that this frost can thaw under the hand of the Lord of the Winter's Heart.

What Napoleon Said About Jesus

2007-11-27T06:22:00.000-08:00

I love going into bookstores and libraries. I'm a bibliophile. I love books. I love to simply browse and read the titles, as a matter of fact, many times in college I would go to a large bookstore and read the titles and write them down and kind of sketch what I thought would be in the book. It was good for my writing and for my imagination . . . and pocketbook.

I also love history but if you are like me (read American) then you don't have a great grasp on history or people who constitute at least one page in our high school history books. A person I wanted to read about was Napoleon, not the fluffy haired guy who dances and has a pet emu. The guy who stands awkwardly and tried to take over Europe, bless his heart. So I began searching for the best book to read about it and I decided to read Les Miserables, a short book of sorts. Of course it is four books now published as one, so I'll be reading it come Valentines. I'm neck deep into it now and of course Victor Hugo, the author, goes into asides that seem really worthless, BUT he has this great (read size) section on the battle of Waterloo. Eye opening.

Billinglsly was right, a book is a friend; a good book is a good friend. It's amazing how a writer can open your eyes to so many details: a personality, the color of a mood, the wrankled and weathered tree upon the barren hillside, the feeling of evil, the folly of life, etc, etc, etc. And you just never know what someone might say that sticks to you, like Napoleon. Now, of course he did say that religion is what keeps poor people from killing the rich and that religion was a good way to control the masses, but I think if you were to set down with him in his small, one room studio on St. Helena island over cheese and wine you would probably find he's kinda right. Thinking of the religious and societal context he was living in, I'm kinda empathetic with him.

Anyone's opinion can change over time, but read what Napoleon said about Jesus. As I was reading this morning and was reading Luke chapters 1 and 2 it only served to quicken my interest to the question we must come to: who do I say Jesus is? Simeon, the priest who blessed the infant Jesus, said that Jesus would be a sign that would be spoken against and that he would reveal what's really in our hearts. I'm going to have to always realign myself with Jesus and align myself with what he says about himself.

The quote is below. Enjoy and have a blessed winter day.

"Well then, I will tell you. Alexander, Caesar, Charlemagne and I myself have founded great empires; but upon what did these creations of our genius depend? Upon force. Jesus alone founded His empire upon love, and to this very day millions will die for Him.... I think I understand something of human nature; and I tell you, all these were men, and I am a man: none else is like Him; Jesus Christ was more than man.... I have inspired multitudes with such an enthusiastic devotion that they would have died for me.... but to do this it was necessary that I should be visibly present with the electric influence of my looks, my words, of my voice. When I saw men and spoke to them, I lighted up the flame of self-devotion in their hearts.... Christ alone has succeeded in so raising the mind of man toward the unseen, that it becomes insensible to the barriers of time and space. Across a chasm of eighteen hundred years, Jesus Christ makes a demand which is beyond all others to satisfy; He asks for that which a philosopher may seek in vain at the hands of his friends, or a father of his children, or a bride of her spouse, or a man of his brother. He asks for the human heart; He will have it entirely to Himself. . . . (source here and here)

Luke 1 Servants of the Word

2007-11-26T06:00:00.000-08:00

Luke 1:1-4
Many have undertaken to draw up an account of the things that have been fulfilled among us, just as they were handed down to us by those who from the first were eyewitnesses and servants of the word. Therefore, since I myself have carefully investigated everything from the beginning, it seemed good also to me to write and orderly account for you, most excellent Theophilus, so that you may know the certainty of the things you have been taught.

I began reading the Gospel According to Luke recently. Chapters 1 and 2 are brilliant as they tell us more, it seems, about the events leading up to the the birth of Jesus, which we are celebrating this season. Luke, to my knowledge, never saw Jesus, but he had been around plenty who had. He was a doctor who ministered with Paul and undoubtedly heard many stories from eyewitnesses. He, probably being interested in hard facts like most physicians, began going to eyewitnesses and writing down their accounts. You will notice in his writings more of the personal encounters that Jesus has with people. There are interesting details you won't find in the other gospels, read and see.

At this moment I am planning to spend a significant time in the Advent stories from now until Christmas. I'm hoping to spend time reading, reflecting and writing about what I have gained from it. I won't necessarily go in order of verse, but will focus on what spoke to me that day. I hope it is edifying and encouraging to you. Last night in church this was reinforced. Robert led in a discussion of Colossians chapter 1, verses 9-14. Paul had never met this church but his prayer for them was that they would know God's will so that they would live a pleasing life, which was made possible through the death of Christ, through whom we have forgiveness of sins. Someone commented that Paul had never met them but he wanted them to know Jesus above and beyond anything else. I want to spend this Advent season focusing on the reason for it all, Jesus and God's profound love for us.

Luke 1:2: The eyewitnesses are called servants of the word. The eyewitnesses had seen Jesus in the flesh and had seen him live perfectly in the midst of tremendous difficulties. They had subsequently believed and began to tell others. They didn't have the stories written down yet so they told the stories verbally.

Even so, today, those who are followers of Jesus are servants of the word. I have to ask myself if I am being a good manager of what I learn or hear from God. Do I tell others? Do I devote myself to learning about it, embracing it, internalizing it and then living in alignment with it? Am The first Christians weren't able to cloister themselves and read many books and keep it to themselves. They heard many stories and were able to speak with them. I think that maybe that is what is missing from a lot of Christian churches--dialog about our faith in Jesus. I believe there is a prominent place for the ministry of proclamation (a typical sermon on Sunday is what I have in mind) but there is also a need for us to speak together about what we are learning from God. I am fortunate enough to be a part of a church where this is practiced. We are novices, of course, but God seems to always speak to others and through others, to me and through me. Last night, once again, my heart was stirred as I heard others talk about how the passage of Scripture ministered to them.

We have proclamation and we have dialog. Both are needed. It is through this serious and devout study of Scripture we can come together and, like Luke says to Theophilus, "know the certainty of the things [we] have been taught."

Wanna Change Your Life

2007-11-16T07:00:00.000-08:00

Me too.

Richard Foster writes, "To pray is to change. Prayer is the central avenue God uses to transform us. If we are unwilling to change, we will abandon prayer as a noticeable characteristic of our lives. the closer we come to the heartbeat of God the more we see our need and the more we desire to be conformed to Christ."

I agree. Now if only I will do it. I mean, it's up to me, right? No one else is responsible for my life but me. Not the gov'ment. Not my pastor (actually, I'm a pastor, so yes I am, but you get the point). Not my music leader. Not my mayor or school board representative. I am responsible. I'm responsible for me. And the best thing I can do for me is to pray, which happens to be the best thing for us.

Of Abraham and Home

2007-11-07T05:33:00.000-08:00

This morning I dropped Violet off at the daycare and walked back out the main hallway and I noticed the sign on the wall, which I had read scores of time already, "God Bless America, Our Temporary Home."It reached me this time and the needle in my mind began threading together a series of conversations and thoughts of times recent.

In Genesis 12 God comes to Abram and says these fantastic and frightening words, "Go from your country and kindred and your father's house to the land that I will show you." There is ascending sacrifice, a sacrifice of degrees: leave your country, leave your people, leave your nuclear family. Then there is the vagueness of it, "Go to a land I will show you." Calvin said that Abram believed the "verbum nudum," the naked word of the Lord. Abram was not told that Canaan was indeed the land until he got there.

The sacrifice was great but the promises even more so. Abram will become a nation, his name would become great and he would in turn be a blessing. His wife is barren; they would be happy with one kid, but a nation? They lived among moon worshipers, people who sacrificed to the earth for blessing and fertility. And as Abram stood outside his tent and breathed his cloudy breath into the chilled night air he would see the moon, the stars and even our galaxy. And I'm sure the vastness of time and space and the brevity of life came to mind. Can you imagine the emotions evoked when he was told, "You live among those who prize the moon and the earth for fertility, but I'm going to number your children like I've numbered the stars."?

How would this be accomplished? He would become "great," and this is the same sense and the same word that the people at Babel used. They wanted to grow big and prosperous and make their names great by gathering. And Abram? He would become great by scattering, by going, by living sent. He takes a 800-mile trek which would have taken him through the Promised Land and through some of the urban centers of the day. How, God, will this take place? I'm a country boy. I wrangle livestock; I know nothing about nation building. I know my family, my people and my country and that' about it. I've never lived with the notion of being sent. I've never lived "sent" before. How will this be?

Recently Barb and I have been talking about home and place and what makes a space meaningful. She and I grew up with families who didn't move, but stayed in the same home even until today. There is a familiarity and a rootedness in that that's hard to explain. Home is a space on Birch or just off Highway 30. Our life is different though, as Barb and I have moved 6 times in 7 years. It's an interesting dichotomy.

I guess what makes this story of Abram so radical is that it challenges me to rethink the dominant notions we all have, that deep yearning for settlement, security, for a place. Isn't there a piece in all of us that wants to hunker down, to feel like we belong, to have a history and people who share that history with us?

Abram had that too. And he had more. We all want to be useful in this life. We all want to have meaning and purpose. Don't we all want to stand under the bowl of stars and hear God exclaim, "Yours is a bright and bountiful future. You will change lives." Yet Abram knew of the future but the promise was more for his family tree than for him. It wasn't a delay in fulfillment as much as it was a grace to know God is true and will remain so even if it is not for him.

Man, this just grinds into me and pushes so much out. Why do we long for stuff, STUFF!, on earth that we know we will one day have to replace? Why do we long for the best location, the best landscaping, the best decor, the best . . ." And we are Christians! We have Jesus, the soul-reviving, all-rewarding, all-fulfilling Savior and yet our hearts still crave for STUFF! This is definitely a signal that something is not right, something has gone awry. Something tells me this has something to do with 2 people in a garden way back when. I'm like them. Honest, I am.

Even so, God says in Hebrews, that Abraham obeyed and went and made his home in tents (nothing to permanent about that). Why? Why would he leave his country, his people and his family? Why would he go to a new place and live a life of being sent? Because "he was looking forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God."

Carried

2007-10-26T13:55:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow we are having Violet's baby dedication at our home, which will be packed with family and friends. It's a time that Barb and I can set aside and publicly proclaim what we internally know, "She is not ours ultimately; she is God's. She has been given to us briefly. We must prepare her for the life God has for her." We can't prepare for all of the questions and situations, but we can prepare our hearts and souls to trust God.

Trusting God is a topic that has come up for me in my readings and prayers for the past two months. As I read Genesis and Exodus and now Deuteronomy God has used his Word to bring some thoughts up that I really needed to spend time with.

I remember talking with a friend one day while we were in seminary. I was walking to class and he just got out. He was beaming and I was surprised because it was a Hebrew exegesis class. He said, "Exodus is the most beautiful book." He went on to tell me how Exodus is about God literally delivering a baby nation of worshipers. The Red Sea separates like the birth canal and God delivers them and the rest of Exodus is about God, the proud parent, teaching his child to trust him in good and bad circumstances. He wants them to trust him in the desert, in the hard times, in the really hard times when the first hard times (like Egypt) seemed okay, and when the landscape looks foreign and unfamiliar.

That's life. We are to trust God our Father in this whole process. Yeah, but that's tough at times. It's tough to leave the land of the familiar for the land of the unknown, even if the familiar land was a land of slavery and hardship. We would rather have, it seems, a life that is painful but certain than a land that is possibly better--a land where we can worship God freely and know him intimately in ways never known in Egypt.

Deuteronomy 1:29, "Then I (Moses) said to you, 'Don't be terrified; do not be afraid of them. The LORD your God, who is going before you, will fight for you, as he did for you in Egypt, before your very eyes, and in the desert. There you saw how the LORD carried you, as a father carries his son, all the way you went until you reached this place.'" What a beautiful picture. My friend with one "L" in his name was correct. God the Father carries us on his shoulders, not like we're a burden but like we are a bundle of joy! He carries us so that we can see further and better if we look with his eyes, the eyes of faith.

I hope during this season that you find yourself being carried on the shoulders of God. May you know that profound and deep joy of being rescued and redeemed!

Stomped like a Mud Hole

2007-10-17T05:39:00.000-07:00

A dark morning and early too. There's nothing like waking up to the sound of the radio, unless it is a song by Journey or Megadeath. That's like a slap in the face with a wet glove, and just about as comfortable too. It has finally started to rain here and I really welcome the gray clouds dotting this river city sky. It helps me be more contemplative, otherwise I want to play in the sun and shadows all day, when my nose should be down in the books.

A month ago I decided to begin reading in Genesis and at least read the first five books of the Bible in order. I went and got a Moleskine journal that fits in my back pocket. My game plan was the read a few chapters a day and then briefly write one thing God has shown me either in prayer or in reading the Scripture. A friend turned me on to the idea of leaving the first few pages blank to use as a table of contents, so that when I wanted to briefly see what God's been trying to teach me I can easily see.

Not that you want in on the secret life of the bees in my head, but here's a few themes: trusting God fully with every aspect of my life, leaving the familiar, God leading and refining through difficult circumstances, and being prayer-dependent. Oh, there's also one entry about goat demons, which was on September 27 when I read Leviticus 17:7.

One of the goals that I had was to take my time and try to relate what I read to Jesus, because if Jesus is God and the One chosen by God to be the redeeming sacrifice, then he should show up throughout the Bible. Of course he was active in Creation says the Gospel of John, chapter 1 and so does Colossians. But the promise of Jesus as Redeemer is made as early as Genesis 3:15 when God verbally curses (not swears) Satan, who had used a snake to beguile and deceive Eve, "And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; he will crush your head, and you will strike his heal." That right, one day Jesus is going to come and strap on his black leather war boots and is going to look for a skull to crush. In my local vernacular we'd say, "Jesus is going to stomp him like a mud hole," and that is what Jesus accomplished on the cross!

Jesus is a pacifist and will end all war. Itworks like this--he comes and stomps the heads of his enemies and then there's peace. Nice. Heroic. Of course Jesus suffered great pain--it was exCRUCiating (from the cross), but he was resurrected to new, enduring life that redeems the sons and daughters of Adam + Eve. How amazing and that is given as a promise on page 3 of my Bible. If this was my first time reading the Bible I'd say to myself, "Man, if that's the promise, then this story is going to get really good, really fast."

And it does, but you think it's going to be solved quickly, but in the next chapter we have a brother who kills his sibling, someone who institutes polygamy against God's intentions, and then Noah gets drunk and gets naked. And then I say to myself, "This story has gotten interesting, but is not really what I expected from people God uses." And then that's another point that I've picked up too--God doesn't use perfect people. He uses imperfect people so that when it is accomplished in their life they don't say, "It's because I've got so much integrity that God let this be done." But rather that when they look at us they say, "Dude, the only way for them to have accomplished that is divine, mysterious intervention."

I'm only 6 weeks into this, but every time I open it I learn something new and amazing. So, between now and Christmas imagine what you and I can learn together! Adios. Have a good, gray day.

Voting in Memphis

2007-10-05T07:03:00.001-07:00

Several years ago my father ran for public office and I would spend evenings and weekends knocking on doors with him. We spent a lot of time talking, speculating, and hoping. One day we knocked on the door of an elderly gentleman we had never met. He was cordial, intelligent, articulate and very hospitable. My dad asked him for his support and his vote. The man turned pensive and said, "To be honest, Mr. Elder, I can't read. I've never voted. Though I would support you, I can't vote. I can't read." My dad replied, "Well, I can't go in there with you to help you cast your vote, because I'm running for office, but my son can help you. You can vote for me if you want, but you should vote. It's important." It was Presidential election time too, which made this a very significant time for this man. Here was man who loved his country, but who had never been to vote. Astonishing for a twenty-year old. I remember it so well. Almost as well as my first kiss.

Election night came and I drove over to the gentleman's house and took him to his polling place. We went to registration and he "made his mark" and then went to his booth. I got to read the names off to him and he would give his brief opinion. I said, "If you want to vote for that person, just check this box." And in a few moments we made history together. My dad didn't win that election, but a brilliant gentleman was able to experience what billions of people in this world have yet to experience.

I, like you, have a lot of concerns about our country. I'm sure that some who read this have a differing viewpoint on health care, taxes, our current foreign policy ethos and what it means to even try to have a war on an inanimate object like terror. Personally, I believe that war is a symptom and not a cure and I'm really concerned about the war debt that we are accruing. We spend $16 billion each month on the war. That's $92 billion a year. Given how much Americans spend on Christmas, we could have this and the next 5 years of this war paid for in cash by December 26th. Dave Ramsey would be proud.

I love this country so much. We recently voted for who should be our Mayor for the next 4 years. I got my voter registration card, got directions to Rozzelle Elementary and got my pointer-finger ready to do some touch-screen voting. I walked into the school and saw a room dotted with various races, each giving their time to help me and others vote. I showed my drivers license (the best dmv picture of me yet, btw), gave them my Jason Hancock and got to vote for who I thought could do a better job of leading us forward.

I voted, spoke briefly to a neighbor, and walked to my car feeling a surge of pride. Almost 40 years ago some of those same African Americans who helped me were unable to vote. They had just helped me enjoy that which I had never been deprived. How wonderful. How beautiful. How American.

Though my candidate for Mayor didn't win, there are no riots in Memphis. Grenades and tear gas aren't filling the streets, filling the air or filling the hearts of citizens with fear. Mayor Herenton will be able to serve his term without any undue external duress. The press and media can critique and report as much as they want without fear of reprisal. This morning I am disappointed how so many tens of thousands of people couldn't be as brilliant as me (smile), but I am safe and free just like you.

Next November we will vote for who we think should be our President. We get to reach out and touch the name of that candidate to whom we look for leadership. Like the last Presidential election and the 54 elections before that, the government will not experience a coup and the military will not intimidate us. Thank God that now every eligible person will be able to tell the rest of the nation their opinion, and not just the few, the proud, the white. Republican, Democrat, Green, Libertarian or Independent--it doesn't matter. Any eligible person can vote! No race, color, or creed disqualifies you. You don't even have to be literate to vote, but you'd be stupid if you didn't.

4 Days to Launch!

2007-09-06T08:56:00.000-07:00

It is only four days until Sunday, when we will have our first public worship gathering as Neighborhood Church. I'm so excited, antsy, and, hhhhmmmmmm, happy. We've been here over a year as learners and God has taught us so much and has refined us. Of course, we are refined by fire, so it's been tough in a lot of ways, but we are the better for it.

We meet at 530 on Sunday evening at the Skinner Center at Peabody Park, which is less than a mile from where we live. It's a park and rec center that's got a great facility. We are so appreciative of the director or assistant director. They have been kind and generous to us.

Of course our prayer and hope is that people feel welcomed and that they would sense the love of Christ as we gather together.

Four days!

Genesis of Grace

2007-08-31T05:15:00.000-07:00

On a normal night I will lie down in bed and be asleep in less than 4 minutes. Recently, due to issues with my shoulder, which I dislocated a few years ago, I've not been able to fall asleep for about 2 - 3 hours. So, I've been staying up later and reading, while ironically nodding off mid-sentence. I decided I would re-read the second part of Genesis, beginning a little before Abraham comes on the scene.

Yesterday I finished Genesis and found myself captured once again to the Word of God and the themes throughout the stories. First off, as I was reading how Abraham told his wife, Sarah, to pretend to be his sister when they interacted with Abimilech and when his son, Isaac, did the same thing with his wife, I said out loud, "Man, it is very apparent that God uses broken, messed up people." I've had the assumption at times that if a person was a "hero of the Bible" then they had a clean record and was morally spic-and-span. That's why God used them--what a better way to show that 'being good' counts and will get you somewhere. And I would assume that if God used anybody today then that person had to be perfect. Further, if I wanted to be used by God then I had to earn it. If I was "human" for just one minute then God would turn away and leave me in the dust. Now, don't hear what I'm not saying. I'm not saying we should pursue holiness and discipline, which God does honor. What I am saying is that sometimes we emotionally disqualify ourselves, thinking God will not use us because we've messed up.

Then I read about the brothers, Jacob and Esau. Good grief. Sibling rivalry at its finest, or worst. Esau is born and Jacob comes right after him, grabbing Esau's foot as they are both delivered. And that's Jacob's character--the "tripper upper." He is sneaky, dishonest, and seeks ways to manipulate situations so that life turns out his way. He manipulated Esau and got the birthright, he manipulated the livestock so that he ended up lording over his brother-in-law, Laban, and he ended up having children who acted the same way. His conscience bothers him so much and he is terrified to meet his brother, Esau, because Esau is incensed about the birthright situation and said, "The next time I see you, Jacob, I'm going to get you for what you did to me." Jacob probably spends some time wondering if he will ever really amount to anything, if he will be great like his father Isaac or his grandfather, Abraham. And the promise comes that he will, but only after he wrestles with God and comes up limping.

After reading that I came to the conclusion that there are times in our life that God graces us with wounds, especially wounds to our pride and our self-reliance. God graces us with finiteness and with the ability to realize we cannot do it all ourselves, that it is wrong and unhealthy to manipulate others, life and God. We easily make messes of our life and then the web becomes so intricate that we end up endangering ourselves. We need supernatural intervention from outside. And that is why I am so thankful for the grace of God.

There's the story of Abraham and Isaac too, where Abraham is told to sacrifice his only son. Isaac was an answered prayer and God asked him to give up the answered prayer. God subsequently provided a sacrifice and the Scripture states that in that act, Abraham proved how much love it takes to be willing to sacrifice a son. Scripture says that God gave up his son, Jesus, on a hillside like Abraham did Isaac, and proved his love for us. How magnificent and wonderful, mysterious and powerful that is.

I guess that's the summary: we are broken, whether it is apparent to others or not, and yet God graciously comes to us to purify us and to subsequently use us in this world. God does not come to just purify us, to "save us" and take us to heaven one day. Nope. That's very important but that's not all of the story. God graces us in the here and now so that we can be a blessing (Genesis 12; Galatians 3:26-29) and that blessing extends to the ever after. Being graced is not the end; it's only the beginning. Isn't it nice to be welcomed to the genesis of grace?

Essence of Infant

2007-08-20T08:14:00.000-07:00

Today is Violet's first sick day from "learning center" or "daycare," whichever, I don't really mind. I just sat in the rocking chair with her in my lap and rocked for about 30 minutes, neither one of us saying or mumbling anything--quite a rarity for both of us. We just watched the sunshine dot our arms as back and forth we went. There was a point of terror when I thought that one day my head could possibly look like hers--balding, peach fuzzy, and, God forbid, soft spots!

I like her sick stage right now--she's mellow and just wants to lounge around and hack, like she's someone who's been smoking for 8 decades or so. But the one thing I'm having to get used to is the constant spitting up. I think I agree with the great Southern Philosopher, Jeff Foxworthy, who put forth the theory that babies are actually nauseated by the smell of a clean shirt. Judging by the incessant knocking of our washer, I've got overwhelming empirical data.

Setting that aside for the moment, last night at church Robert lead us in considering Jesus' words that we must receive the kingdom of God like children. The point was made a subsequently agreed to that children have nothing to give except themselves and have to rely on someone else bigger than them to provide for them and to take care of them. How many times have you received from God only to feel the need to reciprocate? Yeah, me too. And that actually works against grace when I do that. What if I just simply received instead of trying to pay back? Now that's a point worth thinking about while doing the laundry.

Wishing you a fresh, spring freshness,

Jason

Tonight the doorbell rang

2007-08-14T18:57:00.000-07:00

One week into year six of marriage and things are still rockin'! Though my wife isn't my most faithful reader, I must say that it's very cool to be married to someone like her. Last weekend we were able to spend our anniversary in a friend's cabin on the TN river. It was such a wonderful time. But I was a new kind of widower that has originated over the past several years due to mystical influences arising out of western Europe. That's right, I was a Harry Potter widower. Barb spent more time lamenting the possible fate Harry than Mattel has over the toy recall.

I just spent time with the Idiot. I mean, that book written by Dostoevsky. I've started that book twice and finally finished it 7 months and 701 pages later. I'm like that, once I start a book I must finish it. That's why I never get the Guinness Book of World Records or a set of Encyclopedias or Owner Manuals. It literally makes me nervous to have a book unfinished. Oh, by the way, The Idiot is not worth the effort. Just read a summary on Wikipedia.

The short of it: Violet is 4 months old and is laughing now. Our schedule is changing and we are getting the worm, as the adage goes. Barb is going back to work and my work load is full tilt. Life is good; the dog's asleep; this heat is ridiculous. Tonight the doorbell rang. I opened the door and it was the katydids; they were all asking to come in from the heat. Today I think I literally saw heat dripping from the trees.

Just wanted to let you know my keyboard works.

Hollar if ya have the chance.

Among Other Good Things

2007-07-20T09:16:00.000-07:00

"Life is difficult" are the first three words in M. Scott Peck's book, The Road Less Traveled. That is the angst and essence of Douglas Coupland's book, Life After God. That is the silence between the clanging of the guitars in Adam Duritz's songs. And that is the blaring and recurring phrase in Ecclesiastes. Yet, though life is difficult it is also mysterious, wonderful, beautiful. I am reminded of this as I watch my garden grow, my little girl wrap her tiny fingers around an object on purpose for the first time, or when I contemplate that we are god-like in our capacities (created in the image of God) and yet are mortal. We are capable of such artistry seen in architecture and fine art and yet eat other animals and tear their flesh with our teeth after heating them with invisible fire in our kitchen. We are the only animals that are aware that the world will continue without us when we die and perhaps that is the what all our heartache and longing is about. Maybe that is why life is difficult--life is so short and death so long that it frustrates us that we should experience hurt during such a short stint.

I think that I agree with the apostle/pastor/church planter and believer, Paul, when he talks to a church in Colossae--that thankfulness can pull a disparate group of individuals out of their self-defeating (a group defeating), cynical thinking and push them toward unity that is found in Christ Jesus. That's an extremely long sentence and I'm sure that my editor, if I had one, would send it back to me with a lot of markings. However, the point stands, thankfulness is good for the soul--the soul of the person and the soul of the church. I'm not talking about the superficial way that we often go about it--How ya doin? Well, can't complain. I mean, I could, but what good would it do? Or: How ya doin? Pretty good all things considered. Or the best one: How ya doin? Fine. Now, I understand that there are appropriate levels of disclosure and that sometimes it's ok to express cultural niceties without becoming a skeptic but I still think we glaze over our problems because it bothers us to acknowledge it.

Anyway, back to the point. Thankfulness is good for the soul. Why? Because it acknowledges that God has been good to the soul through redeeming us from our selfish, morbid, limited-in-scope kind of life, where I used to think it was about me and my feelings. It's not about me. It's about us before it's about me. But it's about the goodness of God providing the way back to him through the atoning work of Jesus upon the cross before it's about anyone else. And that is true no matter how I feel about it. God doesn't need to authenticate his existence to the world through me as if I'm the last bastion of hope and that he is real, that this isn't some cosmic fluke. I'm mean, if scientist studied me I don't think I'd be a good case for intelligent design, but I digress.

But perhaps thankfulness is about acknowledging the bad, the bad and the worse that lies below the silent surface of decorum. That underneath my fickle facade is a soul that is broken, tarnished, faded, rightfully hurting and in need of cleansing. And not just of cleansing, I am in need of being used, used for good purposes that would bring fame to God, meaning to me and thankfulness into the lives of others. And that is good for the soul--mine and yours.

A Facet of the Brilliance of God

2007-07-01T07:27:00.000-07:00

Good-bye's going already?

We are approaching our 1 year of life in Memphis, and what a year it has been! From the ocean breeze of the West Coast to the Swamp East portion of the nation, as I recently heard it called, with it's popcorn thunderstorms and leaf wilting humidity.

When we first landed here we crashed at Robert and Mandy's house for 5 days as we hunted and gathered an apartment, just like in the olden days. We are very appreciative of their friendship then and now as it continues to grow through the various troughs and crests that is life. In California we had surrounding us a great social and spiritual network of people who loved us, cared for us and knew us, and after a year here we are beginning to see sprouts and shoots of similar things here, the soul sustaining vegetation of friendship. Whatever that means.

Undoubtedly it was tough last year to pack up all of our stuff on the moving truck and to watch all of the familiar scenery of seven years recede into the rear view mirror, perhaps telling us we will only see our California life in retrospect while continually moving forward to a new goal and gift given us by God. Last month Barb and I packed up our bags and flew back to NorCAl for a week and found ourselves appreciative of our friends, our church and the Hollywood-movie-set-like scenery that is Marin County. We were able to stay at the house of friends who were out of town, which was an unbelievably great blessing--though the man of the house would snicker at me for calling it that. We were able to see so many of the people we still think about and pray for and we were also able to worship with Hillside Church, who has been a bright spot on my spiritual map for years. And while we were there we became homesick for that place that was no longer home and friendsick for people who will remain fixtures in our lives. God has carried us and has carried on well in our lives and theirs. Our lives are resplendent with his grace.

After arriving back from CA we heard the news that an anchor within Cooper Young, Rosemary West, passed away. When Robert told us the news Barb and I both were saddened at the loss of this kind and cheerful neighbor who loved her family and who could be considered a garden-guru. She is and will continue to be missed.

A few weeks ago I was driving through the east side of our neighborhood and noticed that the house of an acquaintance was for sale. They had bought the house about the same time we bought ours and we were nevertheless surprised by the for sale sign. Barb called Jamilia and Jamilia let us know of their going away party, which we went to last night. There were people we had meet before, had dinner with or had seen at other parties. We were laughing, meeting, eating and drinking with strangers who are neighbors, who seemed to be enjoying a nice evening with Jamilia and Simon and their extended network. By the end of the night emails promised and cell numbers given, hand shakes and see-you-laters, drop on bys and give us a calls. You've had this happen too; I'm not living a surreal life. It's very common.

Though common, don't you think our human experience is so mysterious and captivating--the bonds we make, the importance of saying good bye, the crucial nature of letting go, of being willing to start over or of simply saying, "I'm so glad I met someone like you."? I absolutely believe that this shows us a facet of the brilliance of God. We long for deep, enriching relationships because we are created by a relational God. It's in our spiritual dna; we can't help it. It helps us.

Relational: interesting to think about how God reaches us with his grace. It is rarely through a dream, though I've had that happen, but only once. It is rarely through a miraculous sign. It is more often than not through another person. I mean, think about, for centuries God had been speaking through prophets and holy men and writing things on parchment and then finally he dressed himself in skin and moved into the neighborhood and we called him Jesus, Emmanuel, God with us.

No matter what prestige I put upon the Word of God (and I place a lot), God seems to also incarnate grace to me through others-- even in the little sparkly eyes of an infant, the wily smile of a two-year-old, or the weathered face of an elderly friend. It is much more than human companionship, it is the truth that when I look at another I see the handiwork and genius of God whose character and love has more glimmering angles than a diamond.

Anemic, Imitative, Impoverished

2007-06-28T07:31:00.001-07:00

Perhaps it is due to the new smell of fatherhood that now permeates me or the fact that I am now what I considered at twenty-three to be "old" (30), but I have become thoroughly grouchy in regards to popular culture lately. Need I say more than faux hawk, Paris in and out of jail, and now the Spice Girls might, just might, rejoin for a world tour. And all of this made major headlines on "Yahoo."

Yet that is not what bothers me the most. Several years ago I stopped going to a major Christian bookstore because it was filled not with books about Christ-centered theology or developing one's faith, but was frothfully filled with holy trinkets: necklaces, "Christian picture frames," items here and there that were intellectually and artistically anemic. There was no John Owens, Calvin, Luther, and really nothing dating back beyond the last 20 years, except the NIV Bibles for sale. I agree with whoever said it first, "Christian culture doesn't battle pop culture; it is pop culture." Mindless and soulless. And I also agree with historian Mark Noll, "the scandal of the evangelical mind is that there is so little of the evangelical mind." It is a parallel sub-culture that is almost entirely imitative.

I do not consider myself a sociologist of any sort but over the last several years I've noticed this talk of "transforming culture" and yet I am becoming more convinced that today's superficial Christianity is incapable of producing a rich, thriving, transformative, deep culture. And the question I have is how do we plant a church in Midtown Memphis that is intellectually, artistically, relationally, and spiritually sound? That produces more than spiritual consumers who want to shop the "spiritual mall" of what passes for church these days? That produces followers of Jesus who discern the world they are in and who don't seek to disassociate from it? I mean, isn't it true that when Christians cocoon themselves from culture, they actually violate the example and teaching of Jesus and limit his ability to work through them to produce a rich, intoxicating, vibrant and deep culture?

And then there is this squishy kind of spiritual stuff going on in churches where if one is definite on a theological topic--that is, if one has a conviction borne out of facts and not feelings--one is seen as intolerant or judgmental or close-minded. We want a God who doesn't demand anything of us and that is quintessentially narcissistic. C.S. Lewis said it pointedly when he said, "We don't want God to be Father, we want him to be Grandfather." Dick Staub writes that Christian teens and, I'd say, other age groups, "believe in an uninvolved, undemanding God who is watching everything from above and is drawn into their lives rarely and only if necessary. In such a world, religion is inclusive yet peripheral, beliefs are held inarticulately and loosely, and each individual is the arbiter of what is true for them; there is no right answer. 'Who am I to judge?' they might ask."

Is it true that the rich presence of God will only be found by those who seek with the aim of finding? Is it true that today most of what is called spiritual searching is in fact a sham and a vain exercise? Do we seek and not find because we seek a God who will improve our life and make us happy without making us uncomfortable by making demands on us?

I read last night in Culturally Savvy Christian, "Each of us must decide whether we will embrace a real existence by undertaking a rigorous pilgrimage toward wellness or settle into a pseudo-existence by being satisfied with the shallowness and spiritual impoverishment of the typical life."

Anyone ever had these thoughts?

Hoping for the Best 4 Hours of My Life

2007-06-04T05:31:00.000-07:00

This Wednesday is a momentous day for the Elder family here on Felix Avenue. That is the day we board an airplane and fly toward the Pacific and introduce Violet to California for the first time. We are there for Shawn and Loren's wedding and will making a lot of effort to see our other friends.

Everything has worked out: credit card miles providing us with 1.5 free tickets, a home to stay
in not far from the wedding venue, free transportation and the honor of speaking at Hillside Church on Sunday morning. Now we are hoping the luck continues with Violet and the flight, a direct flight totaling 4 hours. We are, like the title says, hoping and praying for the best 4 hours of our lives (8 hours if we include the return). And if we have the best 4 hours then those seated around us will have a good 4 hours, which when you add 4 hours per person around us that totals close to 70 good hours. You see, we're not selfish with our prayers. We are praying that God would bless us and through us bless others 4, 16, 32, yea, 72 hours-fold.

Here's a pic of Violet and my Mom from our visit a few weeks back.

One Rod, 2 Things

2007-05-18T20:20:00.000-07:00

I don't know what's up lately but it seems like I've been a lightning rod of sorts lately. Indulge me. I decide that I'm going to pull some weeds, clear growth from around our fence and WALA, a few days later I am stricken--horribly, horribly stricken--with poison ivy. It appears on my side and spreads like butter across my torso, complete right forearm and right leg. Really fun stuff. Imagine the most itchy clothes you've ever put on. Now imagine someone setting you on fire instead. See, maybe poison ivy's just not that bad!? It has led me to my first dose of steroids. Perhaps many Major League Baseball Players have just been doing yard work the past decade. Hmm.

Then, as noted by a post a few weeks ago, my "y" key on my keyboard is jacked up. It kept falling off and I made a comment about how living without one letter is more difficult than ou would think.

Tonight I'm at that savory, culturally enlightening environment called Wal-Mart to get some lotion that would prevent me from getting horrible rashes due to exposure to pollen from poison ivy. I am approaching Poison Ivy with the Bush-doctrine approach: I will preemptively seek to attack it before it attacks me; I will bombard it with Roundup and the best choppers (or garden shears) gift cards can buy. I will them walk into the house and say, "Mission Accomplished," only to later find out that poison ivy is still considered toxic and potentially damaging up to five years after you've mutilated it.

After exiting Wal-Mart I was greeted at my car by a guy who saying, "That lady in the Cadillac hit my car and slung my car into yours." She's okay; so is her kid. Everyone's okay. So I chilled with them for a nice hour, on the phone with claims, and chatting it up with the officer doing the police report. My car's been hit more times that Whitney Houston, so this is an old bag for me. So, looks like Jason is getting a new bumper for Father's day.

But honestly, nothing like coming home to a great meal, a good looking wife and a daughter that's healthy and beautiful. I'm also a lightning rod for blessing.

A Derby, Blush and 2 Uncomfortable Moments

2007-05-05T19:43:00.000-07:00

Today we went over Dave and Miriam's for the Kentucky Derby--a day of firsts. The Queen. Mint Juleps. Swanky hats. Bow ties. Street Sense. That Chocolate dessert. Violet's entrance into our friendships here. She's not good with small talk yet but she likes to bounce.

Hard to believe that it's been three weeks of fatherhood. Funny to think it but it seems to feel like she just belongs with us, like she's been a part of us since Barb and I spent that birthday party on the beach, after which I bumbled around and finally asked her for a date. Hemming and Hawing, as they say. "I was wondering. I mean. If you wanted. I was thinking. You know Friday night is coming in a few days and . . . I'm a nerd and I'm acting a fool but you gotta eat, so why eat along? I mean, along. Why eat alone? If you don't eat with me then we'll both go hungry." That whole scene still makes me blush a little. Ask Barb to tell you. Okay. I'm over that now.

I finding myself in the middle of a few books right now that I'm really enjoying. I've been moving slowly through the denseness that is Ernest Becker. It's rewarding. Harold Kushner, rabbi in New York, has some interesting thoughts about forgiveness, the types of loves (plural) God gives us, and the life of Jacob. I don't necessarily agree or see everything that he sees but it is intriguing nonetheless. Just finished Andy Stanley's book on how to communicate better, which I could surely use (see second paragraph with pink in it). I just got my copy of my favorite journal so I'm spending time with those people, reading about one topic I'm absolutely fascinated with, and then there's this whole concept of Ars Moriendi, "The Art of Dying." I've been camping out with it for a while, mulling it over, trying to integrate it, give it some glue.

An aside but perhaps the impromptu purpose of this post, here's my philosophy on reading. My time is valuable. I shouldn't waste it. I have too much information flying at me, nagging me for attention, not to mention those freakin' task reminders Outlook keeps throwing up in my face. Holy Cow, if it's 6 weeks overdue shouldn't this software get the hint that I'm not interested in pricing light fixtures? Anyway, I'm not interested in reading just to know. I search to read something, break it down into digestible pieces and then take it in. I might spend, believe it or not, six months or so with a book, even a brief one--writing notes, arguing with it, letting it sit and stare at me. I think one of the biggest myths is that we need to know everything (lesson from Steve Samples in Contrarian's Guide to L'ship), especially when it comes to ministry and the spiritual life (lesson from experience). Let's face it, you probably have enough Bible facts crammed into your head to choke the Scarlet Whore. Our problem, ech um, I'll speak for myself, my problem is that I need to integrate it into my life. We have enough information already. We need people who will help us synthesize it not add to it.

Simply said, about to make this conversation circular, we not only need book sense, we also need Street Sense. We need theory and practice, and friends from what I've read, when I stand to give an account of my life I'll not be asked about my theories and that is really something to blush about.

Violet

2007-04-17T03:23:00.000-07:00

Violet Simone Elder

I thought I was finished with all-nighters when I graduated seminary. Not so. Not so at all.

Last Wednesday the alarm clock went off and, as is our custom, we snoozed once. I rolled over and Barb looks at me and says, "I've been having contractions for 2 hours."

"Well, I'm awake now!"

She went to work and got home about 11 and I finished up a meeting and got home around 1. We took a walk around the block to help the contractions increase. Boy, did that work! We arrived at the hospital at 430pm, some twelve hours after the contractions began. Germantown Methodist Hospital astounded us with their knowledge, efficiency and care. It gave us confidence in the midst of all that is called "Labor and Delivery."

Barb was fantastic and must have one of the greatest levels of pain tolerance I've ever seen, perhaps rivaling that of Jack Bauer or Curly on the 3 Stooges. We felt so blessed that Barb was able to go natural. Dr. Anderson said, "Violet was good to your body." Barb and I were musing one early morning how much pain she had been in but yet knew that c-sections were so much worse. Blessings. Blessings. Blessings. Oh, and coffee.

Several people said, "Look at Violet now and remember her, because in two weeks she will look like a different baby." So I've decided to take a picture of her a day for at least two weeks just to see the development. Besides her skull bones are floating according to the doc, so it'll be interesting to see her head move toward pangea.

Six pounds, 10 ounces and 20'' of greatness.

Where Nothing is Missing

2007-04-03T05:32:00.000-07:00

Alrightie, it seems earlt in the morning (it reallt isn't) but I'm feelint the hankering to blurt out some thoughts about a subject that has been circling the airport for a while. Bt the wat, it is quite difficult to blurt out something via blog because it takes cranking up ole Lappt 3000, loggint in, and clicking away, which has been more difficult since mt "y" key cover came off the other day. Tou don't reallt know how much tou miss one letter until tou are forced to work without it. I promise tou this: below tou are going to find some messy, clangt thoughts, but I hope to get it out in at least one sentence. So without further adieu . . .

Believe it or not Walmart, or as most in the South say, "tha Walmart," plays a significant role in my spiritual formation. It was my last year in college and I was seeking/praying about what I should do next. Should I seek a job pastoring somewhere (thoughts had led me all over the region), just find a job and recover from college or move to California and start seminary (which is what I decided to do)? I was rebounding from a series of bad decisions over a few bad years and 0ne night after hanging out with some friends in New Albany--I think it was David, Danyel, Wint and Vicki--I found myself standing in the middle of WalMart wondering why I was even there. I didn't need groceries, didn't need music, didn't need clothes, and didn't need a 50-pack of Wrigley's gum. I remember kinda snappin' out of it and saying to myself, "Something feels like it's missing. What am I looking for?"

I subsequently had a few speaking opportunities with a number of student groups and began talking about this and in every group I heard responses like, "Yeah, me too." Those responses were also coming from the older adults present.

But why is this? Why is it that when we gaze up at the stars from time to time there is this feeling deep within that we have trouble articulating? Why is it that our hearts burn when we hear our favorite song? Why is it that when we read something good we keep it, re-read it, bookmark it, print it out, or print it in our journal? What are we striving for? Is it because something is missing? I mean, haven't you walked down your block, looked up at that tree that you've seen so many times and said, in an instance, "I've never seen such beauty."
I assume that since I am an average person that you too or others like you may have felt this way before.

This past weekend our church went away to a ranch about an hour from here. We were able to listen to one another, ask questions, and get to some good stuff. I think we did some good work as we talked about how God has graced us with various giftings for the common good, about loving Jesus but hating "the church," (another topic for another time) and had some points in our worship where there was some vulnerability and truth.

Sunday morning I looked out of the kitchen window as the cabin was quiet with peaceful rest and the fog was sitting in layers over the water and hillside. The coffee pot's stomach was growling and I picked up a magazine I'm reading in which there is an interview with a former novice under Thomas Merton. At this point in the story Merton has died and the interviewee is speaking about Merton's disposition, "I asked myself, 'Why is this place holy ground for me?' And I realized it wasn't because the man who lived in this place had the answers; he never claimed to have the answers. It wasn't because he did it right; he never claimed to do it right. He never said, 'Do it like this.' But, rather, I think he gave witness to the ultimate irrelevancy of our failures and shortcomings when we live in the radical confidence in God's love for us, which implies the moral imperative of doing your honest best to work on those things."

It was then as the morning was young and the were mistakes old that the fog lifted and I said, "Nothing is missing here."

Much to say

2007-03-27T06:14:00.000-07:00

Just f.y.i., I've never allowed myself to be censored and at times I have been known to cross lines and been a little liberal with my speech and writing. I want to state for the record that I have been prevented by the powers that be from posting any visual representation of Barb being pregnant. She says it's dumb and she's fat. I say it's elegant and that, of course, she's bigger because she has a human inside of her--head, shoulders, knees and toes.

Soon and very soon we will be seeing our daughter. Can't really imagine what that'd be like. Just visited my old friend's myspace page and saw his two boys and 6 month old daughter. Quite a family.

Trying my hand at gardening this time around. I'm growing about a dozen or so strawberry plants, which are doing quite well, watermelon, bell pepper and something else I can't remember. I guess I should throw away the seed pouches so quickly. Well, if you see me on the news you'll know it was the forbidden plant.

Much is going on but it's too much to say right now. Learning brand new things--home ownership, starting over in an unfamiliar city, becoming a better pastor/teacher, starting insurance business too, and becoming a daddy. I think this is the perfect time for a vacation . . .or to grow a forbidden plant.

Omni-Gracious

2007-03-18T08:17:00.000-07:00

The Bible says that God is omni-present, that is to say, that God is everywhere at once. This to me is astounding in and of itself, but when I think about the graciousness of God it makes it even more so. For if God is gracious and God is omni-present then that means that God is with us not matter the circumstances. God is with us when we worship, when we work, when we need consoling, when we need encouragement or even when we do wrong. God is there, waiting, patiently waiting.

That is not to say that God is not disturbed by our wrong doing. The Bible clearly states that our wrong doing, our sin interrupts our relationship with him. Just as I can't be with my wife in the closest sense relationally and at the same time be rude, arrogant or condescending to her, so it is with our relationship with God. But God doesn't walk away. He doesn't hide. We do that. We do that just like Adam and Eve did. We are afraid of someone knowing us completely, sin/warts and all. We hide out of fear, shame and/or guilt. Yet God habitually comes to Adam and Eve in the cool of the evening, even after he knows they have sinned, to converse with them.

Could it be that we could actually take such a risk and be known, utterly known by someone, even God, and still not be weighed down by guilt? But we put on the veil and mask ourselves. We maintain the veil that separates us from God like the Old Testament picture of the Temple, that gigantic curtain separating us from the holiest of places? Interesting that at the substitutionary, atoning, reconciling death of Jesus, Scripture states that the curtain was ripped from top to bottom to signify that God himself was stepping out from the veil to be with us. Hebrews says that we have an anchor behind the veil/curtain and that it is Jesus. No hands are big enough to remove that curtain except the benevolent hands of God. God wants to be known. He is in his nature one who reveals. The Apostle Paul calls Jesus the "mustarion," the "open secret." And God wants to know us.

That's so profound. Some people want to be free. Some want to be known. I think that all want to be both to some degree--to be known and free. That to me is the beauty of it: it can be, it should be, it is.

The Lost Art

2007-03-04T10:37:00.000-08:00

Thursday was Barb's birthday. She is very young still. Her parents drove down from Plattsburg, Mo to be here and to help us with a home project. They are very giving, self-sacrificing individuals. I have known them for 6 years and they have consistently proven this. I am very blessed and thankful to have in-laws of this stature. We sent them off last night completely appreciative of the time well-spent with them. Can't wake 'til we see them again. The next time we see them they will have another grand-daughter.

During our prepared birth class on Thursday night we took a tour of our hospital, Germantown Methodist. We have been impressed with the class, hospital and doctors, oops, I mean "health care providers" thus far. There are about 15 other couples in the class: some beaming with excitement and others already tired with the preparatory work that is necessary. It is great to be surrounded by such excited people, each couple encouraging the other, swapping war stories. I can imagine that more stories will come.

The due date is April 17, so we are only 6 or 7 weeks away from Violet's birth. We are so excited and nervous! The thought of having the child, staying in the hospital for a few days and then being allowed to go home with the child seems like it should be illegal! Wait! I haven't done this before. Are you kidding? You should send her home with someone who is experienced! Ha.

Some people have said to us, "Oh, just wait. Your life will change so much. You won't get any sleep . . ." They go on to list several negative things about parenting. I know that their words are well meant, but I wonder why they think we haven't considered that yet, as if we get a lot of sleep now or haven't suspected that things will change. We have seen many friends have children and have seen their selfless giving in order to rear their child. It is not like we are living on a deserted island where no children dwell. The typical situation in some cases is that they highlight the negative and hard aspects but then say, "Oh, but it's worth it . . ."

This is the same thing that occurred when we were engaged. Numerous people felt like they needed to say, "Marriage is extremely difficult . . .but it's worth it." Most of these people, then and now, are believers and seem to not grasp the Scriptural concept of rejoicing with those who rejoice. I just don't get it. Why must there be so much party-poop from these people? Perhaps these people are frustrated and tired and want their sacrifices known, which is understandable. But to pile a bunch of negativity when we are celebrative is not only inappropriate but rude, calloused, and stupid. At times it seems like parents talk down to couples without children like married couples seem to talk down to singles who are engaged. I just don't get it.

There have been bright spots, though. We have talked with several parents who rejoiced with us without turning the situation to themselves. They shared with us their joy of discovering they were pregnant, asked us questions about our experience and gave advice when asked, a lost art it seems. Through the example of these couples I have learned a lot about relationships and how to not only listen to people but to hear them as well. I hope that God shapes in me more of that and helps me rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn.

Snow birds and No Babies

2007-02-09T06:04:00.000-08:00

Last night it was rain. This morning it was sleet. And now it is snow. Winter is fun here in the Mid-America because it doesn't stay around too long. It passes through in two months. I forgot how Winter can be here and also how inept Southerners are at driving in this weather.

Last night Barb and I went to our first prepared childbirth class. We went out to Germantown and sat in a cozy room in a Manor than our hospital owns. We met about 15 other couples who are due from late March to early June. It is quite fun to compare stories, see the various women all carrying their babies in their bodies in different ways. Quite interesting that as we went around the room and told everyone basic info about ourselves and then about our favorite things/worst things and greatest fears, that we are all in the same boat. The fears and worries of the women are usually body related and the fear of the guys were mostly finance related. Although I must say that we guys had to admit that we really resented the fact that the class was on Thursday nights, thus causing us to miss The Office and Scrubs.

All the dads agreed about our similar struggles and about the adaptations we're learning to make. But above anything and everything else is this--the love of my life is in pain and discomfort now and will continue to be, and I can really do nothing about it. I feel helpless. I have known for quite some time that my mom was sacrificial with her body--not just pregnancy of me, my two brothers, and my sister--but also with working, cleaning, and providing for us in the hundreds of ways moms do. But now I am seeing in differently, just how painstakingly slow the hurt and the process can be. I am truly awed by the sacrificial nature of moms. Of course, all love is sacrificial, especially the birth that leads to new life.

The baby is due April 17 and at one and the same time it is too close and too far away. Although many of our friends from California will not be here for that God has given us a whole new set of friends to share this with. It is a great thing to have caring people who will help care and influence our daughter.

Chattanooga, A Diversion, A Vision

2007-01-09T06:55:00.000-08:00

Several weeks ago Barb and Mandy decided that they would spend this past weekend at a spiritual retreat in west Arkansas, which turned out to be a great experience for them both. Since I don't want to be home alone I decided that I would drive down Highway 61, which I would catch here in Memphis and take to Natchez or Vicksburg, hitting some major Delta Blues territory. I was planning on spending some time with strangers or in a very cheap motel, thinking about the next 12 months, setting goals, and praying. However, a few weeks ago I caught up with a friend via email and decided to head east.

I found myself just north of Chattanooga, spending time with 2 friends I haven't seen in about 5 years. These friends are the type where you always leave better than you did before, although that might mean you are challenged at some very deep level, though unknown to them. These are friends who have sold their house, gotten out of consumer debt, have given an enormous amount of stuff away and are seeking to move to Asia to share the love of God with people who haven't even heard the word, "Bible, Jesus, or Crispy Cream." Well, I just made up that last bit about Crispy Cream, but to them, seriously, "Jesus," makes just about as much sense. He is not even on the radar.

Several years ago I did summer missions in Vancouver, BC, an experience that really formed, in part, who I am. As I was working under one of the best pastors in Western Canada I just listened to him talk about his friends all over the world who were serving Jesus in thoughtful, genuine, and gracious ways. Deep inside I wanted that. I wanted to have friends all over the world who were serving God faithfully and sacrificially for multiple reasons, most of which are selfish. I wanted to have a global perspective with my faith. I wanted my experience and knowledge to include other nationalities. And later on, which was also rekindled this past weekend, I wanted a heart for the unreached people groups around the world. Believe it or not, there are people groups who do not have a Bible in their own language, who do not have access to the gospel, and who do not know even the word, "Jesus." Think about it: they have neither heard nor said that two syllable utterance Je-sus. And what's really troubling--even if they wanted to know about Jesus they have no way to know. Jackie Pullinger, who worked with drug addicts in Hong Kong, said it best, "They are not going to come here (the church) to hear. We must go to them."

So, I am troubled today. Here I sit in a safe house, living a safe life, in a relatively safe city with all of this going on in my heart, hoping to start a church. Is is possible for God to grow a church here that would have a heart and soul for the nations? Who would seek out God's glory in sacrificial ways? There must be. There has to be hope.

On Sunday I worshipped with my friends and we read this quote by David Brainerd, missionary to the New England Indians 250 years ago. [He subsequently died through his service to the Indians. Many forget that while some were formulating how to take more land, some were crossing cultures to serve and love]. He prayed once, "Lord, let me make a difference for you that is utterly disproportionate to who I am."

So my plan was to go it alone--to ride and enjoy music and downloaded speeches, to see the scenery and think of me and my goals. And then God took the wheel and steered me in a completely different direction. And yet I cannot complain. I'm so thankful for friends who seek God with all of their hearts, though imperfectly at times.

The Fog Sits Heavy

2007-01-04T05:10:00.000-08:00

Is it possible to travel thirty years in life and wake up one day and feel lost? Is it possible to one day wake up and look in the mirror and say, "Boy, you're handsome, but you also have problems?" Don't you think it's a mystery that life's a mystery? That we can ponder infinity and yet know of our own limitations? That we can relive what has passed and project ourselves into the future (with our thoughts, of course) and modify our behaviors accordingly? And as the fog sits heavy on the trees like they are leashed to one another, I realize I need a sunrise, a guiding source, of sorts. . .something to direct me in this new year.

The past year was the hardest one in a while from forward to finish. Yet it was the most rewarding as my character was developed (in part) through grueling circumstances where I was pushed beyond my known limits, to face the truth no matter how ugly. On the last night of the year as Barb and I sat on the side of the bed with our heads resting on our hands, we both agreed that it would be best to let the old year go. It had run its course, had served its purpose, pulling the hands of the clock round and round, leaving a well-worn path around our eyes. But sometimes it's hard to let go of something that's hurt you so deeply. Perhaps that's why we stay up so late on the year's last day.

God and the Art of Sanding Down Furniture

2006-12-05T06:33:00.001-08:00

This past weekend was a great one. On Saturday I spent the first part of the day sanding down and refinishing our coffee table, which we acquired freely a few months ago. It had some great coffee mug stains, a purple crayon streak and a few wobbly legs. Not very troublesome for sandpaper, stain and glue. Now it sits in the same place with a better look and a better structure, at least to me.

Working down in the dungeon (our basement) has been good for me. I'm there underneath our house, looking at what lies beneath, trying to correct a woodworking problem, to make an unwanted stain disappear or simply trying to straighten something that is crooked. Just in case you think I'm romanticising--I also scream and unnecessarily pound excess wood due to my own mistakes and oversights. Oh, not to mention me grovelling on the cold, dirty basement floor right after I pounded my thumb with the hammer.

On Sunday Barb and I spent the afternoon in our living room. She napped in the winter sunlight and I finished reading Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad. I finally finished that book after years of psyching myself up for it. It didn't disappoint. There's a reason it's a classic. There's this one sentence that Marlow, the guy who is telling the story throughout the book, says that has stuck with me, "No, I don't like work. I had rather laze about and think of all the fine things that can be done. I don't like work--no man does--but I like what is in the work--the chance to find yourself. Your own reality--for yourself, not for others--what no other man can ever know. They can only see the mere show, and never can tell what it really means." And as I read Genesis this morning--the very first book in the Bible about the very first things--I wondered if God already knew this and that is why he placed Adam and Eve in the Garden and gave them the responsibility to tend it.

As I have undertaken some major projects around the house (and other projects and other times) I have found this to be true. When I take on something like the above or even completely refinishing our hardwood floors like I did a few months ago, I am faced with what's inside me. There is no one else around. There is only me, God, and a bunch of filth. It's quite interesting--me working on the table and the floors (especially the floors)--I felt this deep connection between me and God, that we were together working. I work on the floor; he works on me. I didn't arrange it. I didn't plan or pray for it. That's just how it's been. Honestly, it's like that because God has outsmarted me, but that's a conversation for another time.

Becker, Warren and a Little Girl

2006-11-30T06:31:00.000-08:00

I guess there is a lot on my mind lately. Barb is plumping up with child and is giving that Thanksgiving turkey a run for its money. Although she might cost more per pound; I'll have to look at the insurance bills. Along those same lines is the very fact that within the body of my bride is another. That for the past 18 or 19 weeks her heart has been beating 160 beats per minute as her developing body needs more nutrients, more blood, and more oxygen. At the same time my wife's rib cage is expanding as her lungs are growing so that she herself can produce for our child more nutrients, more blood and more oxygen. That this week our little girl is growing her epidermis, which has been determined by her Creator, fingerprints established, freckles and tone. It's astonishing that she is working alongside God right now, so to speak, fulfilling the requirements of external life. Even further, within my bride is our little girl and within our little girl are all the eggs she will have for the rest of her life. Our grandchildren are literally within my wife and girl at the same time. All of this is imprinted into her; she knows what to do though she cannot articulate a single sentence. It is almost as if God had arranged everything for us to do without us ever really knowing we are doing it, and without our consent or input, as is my case.

At the same time as my child, my wife and my burgeoning fixation on the creativity and ingenuity of God, are two books that have completely demolished and renovated my thoughts on human nature, life, death, and eternity: The Denial of Death by Ernest Becker and Purpose Driven Life by Rick Warren. I rarely find myself in the new releases portion of any bookstore. I don't really go for new when it comes to a lot of things, books especially. I try to find classics, something with time-tested value that has an enduring reputation. Even with church planting and some pastoral or leadership issues I don't go for the newest glossy paperback. I go to pastors dead and gone, theologians who shook and shaped their cities or countries and who could also shape me if I were as willing. Becker wrote The Denial of Death in 1973 and subsequently received The Pulitzer Prize. Warren wrote his book only four years ago, but it has remained atop the New York Times best-seller list for multiple years (175 weeks as of May of this year). So his book is relatively new but has major cultural influence today.

This is all I can write right now, as the content of the books are staggering. Eevery paragraph in Warren's book could be a paragraph to live by. Likewise, in Becker's work there are certain pages that latch on to you and force you down to the ground, wrestle with you, and later become some of your best companions. Though Becker was a cultural anthropologist who spent his life gathering and synthesizing multi-disciplinary thoughts about the "why of existence" and Warren ,a pastor, theologian and humanitarian, seem quite opposite on the surface they both have some astounding cohesiveness. Both agree that each one of us has a desire for immortality, a desire to live and have influence beyond our own years, that we have an intense inner yearning for life and self-expression, but that we all fear life and we all fear death. They both agree that satisfaction in life comes not when we focus on self but when we ultimately surrender to God everything we've been trying to build for our own glory and immortality. It's like the Scripture says, "God has placed eternity in the hearts of everyone."

Recently a friend sent me an email and within that email was a line that was stuck in my brain like a splinter, "Do not fear that your life will end, but that it will never truly start." And so, I sit with Becker and Warren, fighting, feuding, sparring with them in a pugilistic three-for-all, and I am the better for it.

Anyway, thanks for listening to the rambling--perhaps a few paragraphs too long. I hope to build a document with quotes and cross references with the both of these guys as I feel it is at the base of any teaching that I'd give from Scripture. Alright now, stay warm and safe.

Jason

Mystery

2006-11-13T10:05:00.000-08:00

Ah, this time next week I'll be figuratively spiking a football in the endzone of certainty as we find out if it's a boy, girl, or monster. I have been wanting a girl, however, in the second or third week of finding out Barb was pregnant, my gut instinct said, "boy." Barb's instinct says "boy" to, which is better than, "boy, two."

So, it's great to live in a mystery right now. However, I know that when I find out if it's a boy or girl the mystery will get only more profound. As Barb was talking to me on our weekend drive a few days ago, she said, "Jason, I was just looking at my hair and thinking about what color our kid's is going to be. I have no power to make it one way or the other. God has decided and God is deciding a lot about our kid without asking or letting us know. Isn't it great?!"

It's been 6 weeks?!!! But why, Jason?

2006-11-09T11:14:00.000-08:00

Ah, here it is, mid-November, nice breeze, comfortable conditions inside and out. This place is starting to feel a bit more like home as we unpack, repack, throw away, and/or set up our things. The baby unofficially has more stuff than any of us, lucky thing.

We find out Thanksgiving week if it's a boy or girl. Judging by Barb's belly, it's a giant. My birthday is on that week, so I am blessed all ways around.

Recently went up to Minnesota with the team to the Alpha conference to learn from the creators of the course. It was a great trip for us as a team as God solidified some visioning stuff and also as we worked out some immediate structure things with our meetings. And, blessing again, a friend from Hillside was there at the conference, Steve. We were able to have great talks and share a meal downtown one night. Steve and I meet in all the exotic places--dormitory in seminary, Catalina, Corte Madera/Larkspur, Minneapolis. Ah, the life of a jet-setter.

I know I haven't been posting as much. That's for a few reasons. Let me number them:
1. This will be a more personal site and will deal primarily with family and person items.

2. Church planting updates and anything to do with that kind of thing will go to another site. It it http://projectmustardseed.com/blog/ There's various stuff on there so you'll have to do some sifting through. If you want updates or our newsletter, which will condence the news down, then email me (or reply to this post) and I'll hook you up.

3. We are in the planning stages of organizing, strategizing, and building a website. God's brought along our side a very capable web-wizard who is also turning out to be a great friend. So #2 above is for updates, thoughts pertaining to our situation in Memphis, and this website might eventually incorporate it.

4. To blog about everything is to blog about nothing.

5. "Blogs are written by people with nothing to say and are read by people with nothing to do," which is a quote I heard Guy Kamasaki say at a conference in San Francisco. So I quote that to myself every now and again as I login and then ask, "Is this worth saying?"

6. Further with #5, I want to make sure I write well and have something good to say. We all have enough to read, so there's no need for me to write everything I think. I agree with Otto Rank who said, "there is already too much truth…an over-production which apparently cannot be consumed!" The bookstores and blogospere proves it: never has so much been written, yet so little been said.

I sincerely hope that you and yours are doing well. I appreciate you reading this and showing interest in what's going on in me and with me. Drop a line and holla if you wish.

Blessings,

Jason

The Womb of Promise

2006-09-12T05:29:00.000-07:00

Well, there has been relief from the heat as of late. Yesterday was so hot that cups with ice water in them even sweated. Sometimes you can see it drip from the trees. But a "thunderstorm" passed by in the night. The morning sky is dark and the ground is damp. Water runs down our windows like tears from heaven, as fluid as my hopes and dreams.

I'm on our second floor right now and I just drove Barb to work. My engine is beginning to run, fueled by coffee and 8 hours rest. Recently I found myself digging in a book of the Bible that I haven't been to, I haven't searched through in a while--Ezekiel 34. The chapter is broken into four parts: words that God spoke to those who are in leadership of God's people, words that God speaks about himself, words God spoke to his flock, and God's promise of a Future Shepherd, Jesus.

"Then I will set over them one shepherd, My servant David (one from David's throne), and he will feed them;p he will feed them himself and be their shepherd . . .I will make them and the places around My hill a blessing. And I will cause showers to come down in their season; they will be showers of blessing . .. then they will know that I am the LORD, when I have broken the bars of their yoke and have delivered them from the hand of those who enslaved them . . ."

Promises are potent. If met they are the health of life and joy. If broken they are more poisonous than hate.

God is faithful to his word. Jesus is the one shepherd from the line of David. David retaliated toward a lion and a bear because they jacked one of his sheep. How confident we should be that Jesus (who is from the family of the World's Best Shepherd) is the Shepherd of those who have believed in the truth of Jesus' dying on the cross for our sins.

Promises. Dorment hope.

Dorment but not, hmmm......without effect.

Promises . . . like rain from the heavens that is well-timed for the fields.

Promises . . . like obedience to our Lord will not go unnoticed by either our enemy or friend.

Promises . . . like no greater joy is knowing Jesus because Jesus knows best.

Like a sheep that knows protection carries a cane and a slingshot.

Promises . . . like the womb of my wife who is bearing our first child.

The Kingdom of God is like 22 tons of hay

2006-08-23T05:59:00.000-07:00

Barb and I visited my family this past week, who live about 1.5 hours south of us. We celebrated 3 birthdays (Steve, Sherry, Amber) and had some awesome Mama-cooked meals. Have you ever ruined a meal by eating too much? Not me, it just can't be done, not with Mama.

My cousin, Gerald, came by. Dad had been growing hay for years and would in turn sell it to Gerald for his cattle. Gerald had been working in the field and had come by to pay Mom for the hay. He had rolled 16 rolls of hay, each weighing 1,000 to 1,500 lbs. each. Earlier in the summer he had rolled 28. It seems incomprehensible to me that we have grown 22 tons of hay. It has been relatively easy: seeds were planted; God watered them; it grew; it was cut, dried, then rolled.

Jesus did a lot of work with people like my family and he would speak to them in their language. When he was in an agricultural region he spoke to these people who had broken ground and deposited seeds into the earth hoping to get back more than they had planted. These people had soaked their clothes working diligently and who had probably been stunned at the mystery--"they go to bed at night and get up by day and the seed sprouts and grows--how, he himself does not know. The soil produces crops by itself; first the blade, then the head, then the mature grain in the head. But when the crop permits, he immediately uses the sickle, because the harvest has come" (Mark 4:26-29).

After that passage Jesus goes on to talk about a mustard seed. He says that though it is such a small seed, yet "when it is sown, it grows up and becomes larger than all the garden plants and forms large brancehes so that the birds of the air can nest under its shade."

Lately our team has been contemplating these stories. It is such a mystery as to how a church is initiated and sustained. We pray, serve, prepare, and mostly, we wait. We see that our task right now is to understand and to cultivate the soil of our area so that when seeds of the kingdom are planted that a people could be formed here that would bring honor to God, pleasure to us, and shelter to those who need it. It is always a major undertaking to work/to labor in the field for God. There is much labor and much waiting. It is a project about mustard seeds--that the seemingly insignificant becomes life changing for all involved.

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2006-07-27T15:55:00.000-07:00

Well, we're settling in to life in the city of Red Birds, Grizzlies and the Pyramid. Barb and I have been on the fast track it seems the past few months and even now as we are looking for appropriate employment, a house (!), and growing a faith community that God would be proud of.
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To Amarillo and Beyond

2006-07-13T21:10:00.000-07:00

Whew, that was fast. We just crossed the Mighty Mississippi a few hours ago. We left on Tuesday around 2pm and arrived 2,600 miles later in Memphis tonight at 7pm. A few impressions of the country we are so blessed to live in. First of all, if you start in northern California it takes forever to even get out of the state into Arizona. Secondly, hot is hot no matter the humidity. It doesn't matter if it's 102 degrees with no humidity or 84 degrees with the heat index of 102 degrees--hot is hot. Thirdly, it pays to have a car with great gas mileage--well, in relation to most cars sold in the US. Fourthly, life is better ten miles per hour above the speed limit. Fifthly, they really do leave the light on for you. Even past midnight. Sixthly, it's very difficult to get a decent cup of coffee. That's why nation chains like The Mermaid (Starbucks) is appealing to me. I can go into any Mermaid--Corte Madera, SF, Amarillo, and Memphis and not exactly what I'm getting because of the amazing consistency.

Barb has several interviews with schools tomorrow in Memphis. We're hoping and praying. Do that with us, please.

Withdrawing Pennies and Getting Back Gold

2006-07-10T09:40:00.000-07:00

I became a follower of Jesus when I was fifteen-years-old. I don't really know why it took me that long to get it, but it did. It was the best decision of my life--well, and the best decision of my afterlife also. Several months after I bowed the knee to Jesus I "surrendered to the ministry," as some call it. I simply said to Christ that there was nothing else I could ever see myself doing than teaching Scripture and helping others along the path toward faith in God through the work of Jesus.

In college I remember bowing down between my bed and my bookshelf and saying with fervency, "God, I'll go wherever you want me to go. I'll do whatever you want me to do. Just make the way clear. Make it evident. Provide the way. I just want to be about what you are doing in the world."

I knew then, and had for a while, that God was going to ask of all of me. That is, that God was going to use me up. He was going to ask all from me. The picture I drew in my head of what that looked like was something similar to martyrdom. I'd give my last drop of blood on the mission field somewhere--China, India, or some other foreign country. My body would be laid in a hero's grave. The preacher would wail about my godly, sacrificial life. I'd be loved in life and revered in death. Young women would cry in the afternoon sun. Simply--I thought God was going to draw out of my account and that he would do so by writing one big check.

What I've come to recognize and what I'm living with right now is this--he does and is drawing from my account. He hasn't written in my big check. No, it's been in a series of small checks in varying amounts. That's not to say that God has been nickel and diming me to death. No, that is to say that God knows how much is in my account and he knows exactly how much I can withstand. It's been in a series of small checks in varying amounts.

What I once thought was large, even to large, when I thought he had gone into overdraft, now is really small. It seemed big for the moment because back then my account was small. Ten dollars matters to an account of One hundred dollars. But one hundred dollars isn't as significant when the account is holding hundreds of thousands. Yes, those big withdrawals in the past look like pocket change now. It's a mystery to me.

This current check that he's written--well, at times I've been wondering if that comma was supposed to be a period. Surely he doesn't mean to withdraw that much. He's never asked that much from me before. He knows I can't take that. But what if something else comes up? What am I to do then?

So, since he hold the account anyway and knows my p.i.n. I (un)willingly accept that withdrawal. Why? Because he's bigger than me and I have a fear in him? Not unlikely. Because he can push me into bankruptcy and make me long for a recession of his presence? Hmmm. No. Well, because I know that he's really good at transfers. He has credited to my account over and over again. And as I reckon the account I see that he has always transfered more than he has taken out and that my account always increases. He has interest in me and that interest is paying big dividends. He has credited to my account all the riches and promises of heaven that have been secured through the benevolent work of Jesus Christ.

Oh, this current withdrawal is tough. But I know that one day I will reckon my account again and see that the transfer back in has not only filled the debit but has increased many times over.

No, I will not give my last drop on the mission fields on foreign soil. Not yet at least. The preacher will not wail and young women will not cry in the afternoon soon. But as I pack my bed and my bookshelf, and as I stand between them I am overwhelmed with the reality that he has stayed true to himself--he has provided, he has spoken, he is leading.

So now I say to you, friend, may the Lord bless you and keep you, cause his face to shine upon you. May he prove himself faithful to you as he withdraws pennies and gives back gold. May it be so among us also. Amen.

2006-06-27T16:41:00.000-07:00

Ah, Catalina. The name rolls off your tongue and sits in your soul like a foam anchor!? Whatever that means. It was a great vacation and Barb and I had hours of great conversation and fun. It was also good to be with Steve and Jessica during that whole week. It was a great way to spend our last great California get away. If you ever get a chance to go on vacation with Steve and/or Jessica GO FOR IT!
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Prayers, Thoughts, Emails

2006-06-17T22:45:00.000-07:00

Well, I really appreciate the prayers, thoughts, phone calls, hugs, emails, gifts, meals, and the million other things that God has used to encourage and console me during these past four weeks. I am learning so much through this process.

Tomorrow Barb and I are accompanying Steve and Jessica to Catalina Island out in the wild blue yonder off of Los Angeles. Steve and Jessica were married in Tahoe in January. Their wedding picture is in a post I did after their wedding. Their good friends and it is good to make this trip with them before we leave.

Tomorrow Hillside Church, whom I strive to serve, is sending a huge team to Mexico to work with an orphanage that we have an ongoing relationship with. I've not been able to go but I really appreciate the stories and pictures from the teams when they come back with their lives changed.

Today I was thinking about that team, those orphans, Father's Day and my dad. I miss my dad a lot and it really hit me hard a few times this week, which is okay. My Mom went back to work and is doing well. It's good to talk with her and my sister, Lori. The Scriptures talk about true religion is taking care of the orphans and widows. It's no longer a concept to me; it's reality. And the Scripture also talks about God being the Father of the fatherless, of which I now am. I wish I could articulate exactly what's been shown to me in this. I can only simply say that God is true to his word and does speak in the darkness and answers the one who calls to Him.

The Hardest Post Yet

2006-06-05T14:40:00.000-07:00

A little over two weeks ago my father, Waymond Jamie Elder, died of a massive heart attack. It was a surprise to say the least. It's hard to know exactly how to proceed--in life and in writing. I write this to make it known, to write my appreciation for him and his life of integrity, and to thank God for the support of family and friends.

I grew up on the same plot of ground for 21 years. Mom and Dad lived on three acres that is adjacent to about 30 acres of farmland. Dad and the rest of my family loved(s) working the earth and last week while Barb and I were there we saw the garden he had planted--peas, beans, okra, eggplant, squash, and two fruit trees. The garden was young, planted not too long ago with roots going deeper each day with the hope of a future harvest.

Along the east side of the garden is a creek that separates the 3 acres from the 30. Along the back of that creek are pines, water oaks, and various flowers and vegetation. Laying close to the garden was a pine tree that used to hug the bank of that creek until elemental forces pushed it down and it was forced to let go of its grip of the ground it had held onto for decades. Dad hooked a chain to it and drug it away with his 1968 Blue Ford Tractor. The void the tree left is still easily seen and I am learning that the deeper the roots the great the impact when it is taken away.

As we tended to the garden which is at the back of the 3 acres we saw the often walked ground that he and Mom have taken around the house, down the sloped back yard, past the shed and into the pasture with the burgeoning garden. Dad's footprints were still fresh in the garden. He walked that path and those rows many a morning and evening.

On Sunday we had visitation at the funeral home. Our family gathered in the estate room and the community came out to pay their last respects. Between 400-500 people stopped by, which was overwhelming and empowering. I've always known Dad as "dad" and never as co-worker, employee, friend, neighbor, or acquaintance. It was there that night that I was able to see how far reaching his silent roots had grown and gone out into the community and touched lives. Over and over again the supporters shed tears, gave hugs and noted Dad's character and integrity.

On Monday we had the funeral and Reverend Floyd Lamb gave the message. He is close to our family and has ministered to our family as Dad's parent's both died of cancer and he was also there when our sister, Lori Beth, was born with Down's Syndrome and had heart surgery. He spoke with passion and held Christ up to be glorified. He stated something that really stuck with me and I doubt that I will ever forget it. He said this--we often think of death as a lonely experience, that the deceased is hovering somewhere out there trying to find their way, but the Bible states otherwise. The Bible states that to be absent from the body, for the person who has Jesus as Lord, is to be with the Lord. He said that David's last words to his son Solomon was this, "I now go the way of all the earth." Dad didn't walk a lonely road, unknown road to a mysterious place. He walked a well-worn path to a well-known place. My Dad went the way of all the earth. He is now, because he placed faith in Jesus, with Jesus and is finding more satisfaction that ever dreamed of on earth. It is comforting in these days as I continue to process this grief.

There is a resurrection from the dead Scripture teaches. There is no reincarnation. One day we will be held accountable for our life and one day our spirits will be reunited with our bodies. Believers in Jesus will be joined with him and will live in victory over sin and evil. That's beautiful for me and is no longer a concept. It has become real.

I am thankful for my Dad and I had told him so on several occasions. I was not/am not an easy person to deal with at times. He was a hard worker and an honest man who sought out truth and justice. He loved my Mom and was dedicated to her. He loved his sons and his daughter. He was a provider and a great example. My mom is a beautiful woman who captures my admiration more and more everyday.

Thank you for reading this and for praying for our family.

Jason

Barb and I left as soon as we could and arrived home at 4pm the following day. Joy and grief are very similar in that they can both take you by surpirse. As a family we wept hard and often. And we often took comfort in Dad's faith in Jesus Christ which secures for him a Christ-ful eternity.

The Day I Grew 1/4 of an Inch

2006-04-24T19:09:00.000-07:00

It would be anticlimatic if I said, "The day I grew 1/4 of an inch was last Thursday," so I will say more. I've been having numerous physical ailments from a perpetually inflamed achilles and knee on my left leg to muscles spasms all over. Well several weeks ago a friend said to me that he had went to a specialist, Amy Sable, in San Anselmo and that her help had made him realize some noteable success in his back/neck issues. He gifted me some visits to Amy, which to me is priceless.

So I went and filled out the form and then she measured my height. I was about 6' 3 3/4". In high school I was measured at 6' 4". So having shrunk was news to me. She then had me sit on my bum, straighten my legs out and try to reach toward my toes as far as I could. She measured me in a way that is too complicated to write for some reason. Anyway, she looked down at my fingertips and said, "Jason, I'm so glad you are here." Okay, so she then says roughly that I'm about 11 inches from an average person's reach. So, I'm less than average. My daily look in the mirror and memories of reports have told me as much.

She stretched me with the help of a machine with a pulley and such. I was expecting something more Adams Family; I was gladly disappointed. So for 1.5 hours she worked me over. She then measured me and I was a little over 6'4". Ah, and the best part was no growing pains.

Holy Week

2006-04-13T11:51:00.000-07:00

So, it's sunny outside. Quite bright. It seems as if the earth has moved closer to that orb over tha past two months, which I guess, actually did happen. What did they call that? Oh, the axis.

The past weeks have been quite good. I've been reading through the Gospel of John and have really had some good study/devotional/prayer times while reading it. There are a lot of details that have been added to that story thanks to Earl Palmer's great but short book, "The Gospel John Wrote." He says so much with a third-world economy of words.

I recently met a man who is a church planting strategist. He's quite the fervent communicator. He is an ex-Marine who served in the Philipines during the 80's. While he was there, from what I understand, a nine-year-old girl came up to him and preached to him that Jesus was the only man that would ever end war. That moment has forever changed him. He began to follow Jesus. I was thinking of him today, mid-ways through Holy Week, and how he and his wife need some special prayers these days.

It's busy around here but things really can't get any better. Barb is healthy and happy and our relationship is totally rockin' right now. Perhaps it is the ballroom dancing classes we've been taking. Last night it was Salsa, the Swing, Foxtrot and general goofiness.

I hope that on the eve of Good Friday, that beautiful but scandolous night, that you since God's presence and pleasure. It was scandolous for him but has worked beauty for this world. May the deepest blessings from heaven be yours.

Jason

Landslide of Grace

2006-04-05T11:24:00.000-07:00

No, I haven't been under a landslide lately, well, at least not the same as some residents a few miles away. It has been quite busy here lately. Living in two worlds is hard. I desire to finish well here in Marin and also need to get prepared for the work and life ahead in Memphis. Last night we conducted the Good Sense Budget Course. Some Hillsiders came up to me and were totally jazzed about our move (I think that's a good sign) and were asking a lot of questions. Questions beyond, "Isn't that where Elvis . . ." and more toward, "Why Memphis? What's the draw? Any good bbq there? What's a home cost?"

There's a lot of details I just don't have time to write but I'll make it as quick as possible, the phone's ringing.

Last July Barb and I went to visit my family in north Mississippi. One day we took a trip up to Memphis and hung out in Cooper-Young, a district in Midtown Memphis. We prayed and just asked some residents there what the area was like. We got a good vibe, I guess you could say. So we came back home (Marin County) and started praying and talking things out with Robert and Mandy. There was a lot of freedom to pursue this.

Last December we let the leadership of Hillside know, which was an important step. I wanted feedback from Prince and other leaders and believers who know me. We sent emails to our friends who had made similar moves and opened up a hugh dialogue. Barb and I prayed and fasted and really sought God's direction for us. We understood that it was big decision and had a lot of ramifications upon scores of people. We didn't want to leave the Bay Area prematurely and wanted to really discern what His desire was for us.

In early March we went to Memphis and spent some time with Robert and Mandy and saw my family for a few days. We all talked about it. We met with a pastor and a strategist for the Memphis area. It was quite a wake up call for me. The word from God was that it was going to be the hardest work I've ever done and that I'd have to trust Him in unbelievable (ironic wording) amounts. That moving and working in Memphis would be about things with eternal consequence.

Barb and I talked for hours each day and prayed. We prayed for very specific things and they were all answered in a way that pointed toward Memphis. That being said, let me tell you what I'm not saying. I'm not saying that I'm not sad about leaving our friends and the great things that God's doing around here. I'm not saying that Hillside is not important to me. I think about the people everyday. But what I am saying is that God has spoken and I feel compelled to pursue this dream while working with a team.

So these days are busy as we contemplate our first months there. We are all thinking about how to organize, reach out, serve one another and our community. We are getting in to the Scripture to really understand the nature and role of Christ in the church and what we as the church should do. It's beyond seminary--it's life.

So in a way as things have been saturated in prayer we have found ourselves covered in his knowledge, forebearance, patience and love.

Three Months Notice

2006-04-02T11:43:00.000-07:00

This past Wednesday my resignation letter was published in the Hillside Newsletter. Today Prince made a public acknowledgement of it. I was greeted before and after each service today with hugs, affirmation, sadness and questions. The first line of my resignation went something like, "It is with bittersweet emotion that I write to inform you . . ." Let me talk about that for a moment.

I have always hungered and longed for a place of worship where there was great music, great teaching, great volunteers and a place where lives are changed. Three years ago I was asked to speak at Hillside as Prince was away on a reading break. Only a half of handful of people knew me. I was warmly received. I was asked back a few months later to speak three times. After that Prince said, "Why don't you and Barb just keep coming and let's see what happens." I really liked that. I had been of a sour church experience or two growing up, and even was part of a very sour experience just a few years before. I had lost my faith in the church, mostly in leadership. I had never really seen godly, humble, self-effacing leadership. I had seen authoritarian, jealous, possessive and not trusting. And it had gotten me into a world of hurt. I was happy to hear, "Let's just see what happens." Because in a way it was allowing me to settle in softly.

We were living in the city and commuting over to Hillside. It was worth it. Several people surrounded Barb and I and made us feel welcomed and wanted--an opposite experience we had while visiting a church in the city just prior to that. I was working a full-time job and two other part-time jobs at the time as Barb was working part-time and finishing her credential at SFSU. Prince approached me and said, "Hillside would like to buy some of your hours." That was a relief. God had begun to awaken my love for the church and more responsibilities were given to me. I can't say I hit very many out of the park, but I got a base hit or two.

Eventually I was asked to be full-time. It has been so rewarding. My giftings, which had laid dormant for a few years, were awakened and sharpened. It's great to be hired to do what you're wired to do. I have never felt unappreciated by the people, staff or council. I've had encouragement all the way and I have been surrounded by volunteers who have chosen to live beyond themselves. I have had phone calls, emails, and short conversations in the church and out in the community where people have just lavished upon Barb and I words of encouragement.

Anyway, there's more to be said. There is also the future posts about the calling to Memphis, to work that desperately needs to be done there, and the pursuit of creating a church where one can come and hear truth and hear it gracefully. There is also the pursuit of a dream that is happening with team, as Robert and Mandy have gone before us and have really laid some great foundations in contacts and getting to know the personality of Midtown Memphis, especially Cooper-Young. I'm extremely excited and energized for that work in Memphis. I truly believe that I would not be energized or equipped to plant this church with the team if I had not been at Hillside.

I look forward to the upcoming months of finishing well here at Hillside. I've got great teams all around who are ready to give these missional initiatives their all. Hope all is well with you.

Madness and a Red Moon Rising

2006-03-21T21:53:00.000-08:00

What shall I write? Shall I write about how I think Earl Palmer's Commentary, The Book John Wrote, is shaping and reshaping my view of Jesus and the gospel according to John? I've heard his book on Revelation is a great read.

Shall I write to say that I'm still disappointed that Kevin Covais is still on American Idol? www.votefortheworst.com is supporting him. It's funny. Sad.

Shall I write to express my appreciation for the work that Jack Bauer has done once again in helping thwart plots against our country?

Shall I write to say that I just haven't been in a blogging mood as of late. I don't think it's because I'm not motivated. I think I'm putting on my winter fat. I'm hibernating.

Or shall I simply write a few quotes? Yes, I shall do that and do that well.

Elie Wiesel writes in Zalmen, or the Madness of God, when giving the response of the doctor, "I don't hear well when I'm shouted at."

In Zalmen, the Rabbi is arguing with his son-in-law, Alexey. Alexey, though Jewish, doesn't hold to the tradition and thinks the past is a burden, a dead wieght that stops the Rabbi from moving forward. The Rabbi responds, "...Alexey, I move forward--just like you and others like you--though a little more slowly. There are advantages to that. It enables me to look about me, to admire twilight as it draws closer, and also, with a little luck, to befriend others who like myself are looking for th source and know where it can be found no matter how inaccessible it seems."

And this quote from Red Moon Rising, by Pete Greig, "When we get our minds around the character of God prayer, devotion, and discipleship cease being techniques and become instinct."

Hope this was worth the pixel power.

The Constant Blogger

2006-03-14T19:24:00.000-08:00

Last week Barb and I went to visit friends and family. It was a great visit and perhaps I will talk about that later on, but that is not the point of this post.

Did I ever tell you that I am on a government list that keeps track of me--when I fly and when I change anything with my flight? Did I tell you that at one time I had a beard that reached down to my chest and that an Indian Muslim thought that I was Muslim? Did I ever tell you that? Well, it seems like I've got some 'splain' to do.

A few years ago I grew my beard out and it was long and it was gorgeous. I cared for it with the finest conditioner and stroked it ponderously as I contemplated the deep things of life. It was a source of pride dripping in strands down my face. It also altered my appearance, well, that and my freshly scorn cranium. I looked, shall I say, beautifully different.

During that time Barb and I were in India. We haggled a rickshaw driver down enough for a ride across Delhi. At one point he asked me mover the high scream of his two-stroke engine, "You Muslim?" as he stroked his beard. His face wore a smile and something like hope, hope of meeting an American who believes in Allah. I responded, shaking my head, "Jesu baktah."

After India we visited my family in Mississippi. I was tan (rare occurance) and had the long beard. I was stopped by TSA when they were doing the random searches. I was pulled aside after the first metal detector and then I was pulled aside and searched at the gate when they were searching there also. This happened in multiple airports. After I shaved my beard I have no longer been stopped or pulled aside . . . until yesterday.

So, after I shaved (I think) I had visited my family and we had put our bags into the trunk of my dad's car. When TSA took the bags they swabbed it really nicely and questioned me. They said a ______ substance was found on my bags and that they had to search them. They then wrote my name down in this notebook. Now, if I was in a very playful mood I could talk more about the notebook (was it a notebook that the writer kept close by when he saw someone with striking features, such as my angular face?). So, I hypothesized all the way home, which was longer since my detaining allowed me to miss the flight.

Then it came to me--I bet Dad had bought some fertilizer for the lawn and had laid it in the trunk of the car. I put our bags in the trunk and BOOM!!! the residue made its way onto my bags. I don't think it was residue from my power bars or dried apricots. The ingredients in the fertilizer, which are sometimes used in explosives, set the machine off.

Well, yesterday I made a simple change (actually, Barb and I both made the change) and my ticket was flagged. I suppose it was because my name made it into that notebook. I took my shoes off as usual (what was that guy's name who tried to explode his shoes--I think I might hate him for that inconvenience) and the guy took my ticket and said, "I'm going to need you to step over here with me. Your ticket has an "s" on it here." So, I gather my self, take a look at Barb and smile (she's seen me pulled from line multiple times before). They baton me up and down, left and right. They look through my stuff and say, "You may go." And then I walk down the ramp to my gate sometimes perturbed and sometimes gaily. What are you going to do?

But as I reflect upon what I just wrote and what I've been reading and watching lately I have this to say--there are thousands, perhpas millions of people who have been marched in lines unjustly, have been interogated brutally, and have suffered the most grievious things imagineable as their loved ones watched on helplessly as tears dropped from their eyes and all hope fled. God help them.

2006-03-07T11:55:00.000-08:00

I think it is interesting how a tone in a picture, a sunset, or even the countenance of a city can express one's mood and even impact it. I took this picture about six weeks ago when a friend of ours was visiting. This is one of the best views of the city. It's from "our side," Marin County. The financial district, Fisherman's Wharf, Alcatraz, Angel Island, Berkeley, Oakland and everything east is to the left. And to the right there is the always chilly north coast and the ocean with three thousand miles separating us and Hawaii.
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Donde Esta, Senor Blogger?

2006-02-28T16:09:00.000-08:00

Perhaps many (optimistically speaking) of you have been clicking over to August Burning and asking, "Donde esta, Jason?" or simply, "Where is Jason? He hasn't posted much of late. Is he okay. Did he get lost? Did he move? Did he lose his keyboard? All of those are valid questions and I want to affirm that in you--it's always good to ask.

But no, I wasn't kidnapped or anything like that, but be sure that if I were kidnapped or adult-napped I would really miss blogging to you. You are some of the most faithful and sporadic readers I've ever had, and it's to you I am grateful.

The truth is, I haven't had much to say. I allowed my blog to lay fallow for a while as I simply thought and read. I've got much to say, but I simply can't type that quickly, but be sure, that if I could I would. Did I commit blogger homicide by laying fallow? Who knows. Nothing is certain in this world where even google stock goes down in price.

Since I blogged last I have made up a few rules for myself. These are not to be taken as a general rule for all mankind, but is simply for me.
1. I will never eat Thai food again, unless, of course I change my mind, but at the way it's been going, it will be years. Let's just say that Thai food has been like the proverbial "good man," I just couldn't keep it down.
2. I will never eat at Naan-N-Curry by Golden Gate Park or the one in the Tenderloin. On a recent day off I said, "I'm in the mood for Naan-N-Curry." Afterward I said to myself, "I must've been in the mood for lukewarm, greasy spoon, no service, half-eaten food on the floor, nasty water pitchers, thrown together like a nuke was falling kinda food."

And in the affirmative category I will right

1. When the power goes off during a storm I will start a fire in the fireplace and cook chili and say that it's the best dang chili ever cooked in a living room, which is what happened Sunday night.
2. I need to read what Steven Samples calls "supertexts." These are texts that are hundreds of years old and still hold our culture today. I'm not too into Plato or Socrates or the Aenid but I did go to Green Apple Books in the city on that medicore food mood day off and collected what I think are come classics. And this is where I need your help. . . .

What's in your top ten, or heck, if you don't have a top ten, what is in your list that you say, "One of the best 5 books I've read," or "I want to read this book."

I don't want any list that has like, "The Owner's Manual of my 1985 Thunderbird." I've already read that. It's dry and, and, and, well, oily.

Anyway, holla.

Robert and Mandy

2006-01-26T13:48:00.000-08:00

Well, Robert and Manday and Adam are moving. The truck is packed and they will be headed westward later this week. It's been good working with Robert http://www.robertgrisham.blogspot.com. He's one of the best worship leaders I've been around. He is respected and loved by those he has worked with. Mandy herself made quite an impact at the elementary school she worked at for the past 5 years. She has reached out to the community and brought parents, teachers and students together for some really moving music programs. My prayer is for safety and rest and that the furniture and things makes it to their new place on time. God speed.

Architecture and Archaeology

2006-01-24T22:15:00.000-08:00

Hmm, today I was viewing a dvd on leadership. It was good stuff. From time to time I do that over breakfast and into the late morning. It prevents me from watching the local morning news (we have basic cable), which really doesn't offer me more news that a cursory look at Yahoo!. Carson Pue, who ministers in Vancouver, B.C., spoke about the various phases of mentoring, which was captivating to me. I think it may have been him or the previous speaker who said that growing as a seeker and follower of Jesus is more like archaeology than architecture.

Now, Barb and I have a brand new friend, Amanda, who just moved into the area and got a job at an architecture firm. So, in fear of loosing this friendship over this simple post, I want to say up front that I am in no way downplaying the importance of architecture. Without architecture we'd have, according to the name, no archs. Archs seem very important. Doorways would be boring and perhaps we'd have no major fastfood chain that has a clown for its mascot. Nevertheless, let me go on to the next paragraph.

The truth, the brass tacks of faithing and living life with Jesus in mind, is not about putting on a nice exterior, of going modern, medieval or even postmodern. It's not covering a delapidated interior with a nice shell. Faithing, living and so forth is about going deep, not about building up, at least at the beginning. It's about discovering the heart, or what's under it all. I know I've built layer upon layer and later I discover that the core of that part of my life was not good. It's hard.

I know that as a leader, or growing leader, and really and bluntly, as a follower of Jesus, I cannot escape that. Jesus was obsessive about the crucial role that the heart plays in our life. He denigrated preconceived roles, rituals, religion and formula and went to the heart. He really wasn't shy about talking about what's underneath. One time he told a bunch of religious guys that on the outside the architecture was nice and white like marble, but just a few feet under that facade was filth.

So we dig it out--escavate it and bring it to the light. It's hard stuff but it's good stuff. Who really wants or needs to be carrying around bags and layers of filth? Who wants a landfill heart?

That's what I'm thinking about tonight.

The Luxurious Worth of Our Soul

2006-01-15T11:52:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow we celebrate the life and work of Martin Luther King, Jr. Many have an appreciation for his work and life and for others who live lives of service. He was really good at painting a picture of the ideal, of stirring within your mind and heart a beautiful picture of what could be. His wife, Coretta, said about his, I Have a Dream, speech where he repeats the refrain, "I have a dream that one day . . .", "It was as if the kingdom of God came down, if only for a moment." He spoke of a desire for a new day to dawn.

This past summer Melba spoke about her experience of growing up in the segregated South and specifically Little Rock. It seems that there are always those who go before us, pave the way for others, who live hard lives so that others may have a better one. I believe there is a Chinese proverb that talks about how one generation plants a tree and the next rests in its shade.

Luckily, MLK, Jr. was not the first to care about the worth of a person, the dignity of a man or woman, or even the undeniable, priceless, even luxurious worth of our soul. His life and thought stemmed from what he had heard and learned about Jesus. At the Christmas weekend celebrations we sang a song that applies to these thoughts, O Holy Night.

The song talks about how the whole world, you and I, lay in our brokenness, longing for things to get better. That we ourselves are shackled by that brokenness, and that it makes us slaves and others seem like enemies. But there is good news, that, "It is the night of our dear Savior's birth," that upon his advent in world history, and, I think, our personal history, the soul feels it worth, that it is a new day. There is a thrill of hope all all the weary rejoice, for yonder breaks a new and glorious morning.

Perhaps today, even this very moment, can signify the rise of a new sun, the breaking in of a new day, a day of hope, a day of praise, a new day of purpose and worship.

Shall we pray.

Jesus, you did teach us to love one another
Your law is love and your gospel is peace
Chains you shall break, for the slave is our brother
And in your name, Jesus, all oppression shall cease
And sweet songs of joy and choruses of gratefulness we raise to you
For all taht is in us praises you and your name
Christ is the Lord,
So ever let us live beyond ourselves
In the name of Jesus, the Bright and Morning Star. Amen.

A Sign in Heaven, A Shirt Down Here

2006-01-10T10:27:00.000-08:00

I don't know if there are any signs in heaven, like, "one way," "do not enter," "Ped X-Ing." But today I was thinking about that briefly, and I thought that there might be one sign, "No Perfect People Allowed." And then I thought, "It's quite ironic, that when we think we are perfect that's when we mess a lot of stuff up." It's usually when we are broken and humble and sense the depth of our God-need that we usually do okay.

Sadly, I think some churches have the wrong signs up, or that some Christians have the wrong t-shirts on (I'm speaking figuratively here and not in cotton-polyester terms). I've gone into my legalistic closet before and put on the nicest, "No Imperfect People Allowed" shirt that legalistic currency could buy. I've actually taught similar material before, I ashamedly say. I've even known some churches who have as their mantra, "No Perfect People Allowed," or at least that is what it seemed like to me, where they/we put burdens on people's shoulders that not even our forefathers could have carried. And those churhces wonder why no one comes. Nobody wants to be around a grump and a pessimissic person. Even in break rooms the teachers (I worked at an elementary school a few years back) could be having a great time, but one person could pull out their, "No Imperfect People Allowed" ruler and the place would get quiet and get empty thereafter.

I'm not saying that churches shouldn't teach the Law or hold to standards or anything like that. I'd be a fool and heretic if I did. However, I am saying that there should probably be, speaking in Betty Crocker terms, 2 parts grace for 1 part Law. Grace without law leads to license. Law without grace leads to legalism. Both are equally dangerous.

In Luke 7 Jesus didn't have the same t-shirt on as the other religious leaders. He forgave a woman with a questionable reputation and a dude named Simon (not his disciple, but the host) said, "If Jesus was a Prophet (prophets can be known for their judgment side) then he'd know who she was and he'd judge her a good one." But Jesus said, "Simon, you guys think you have it all together and you have your nice t-shirts on and appear to have it all together. But the Messiah didn't come for people like you. You don't serve; you didn't wash my feet with water. She washed my feet with her tears. You didn't even greet me, but she hasn't stopped kissing my feet. The person who is forgiven a lot experiences and expresses boundless love. The reason you aren't loving, serving or kind is that you think you don't have any problems." In a way, finishing up, saying, "So, Simon, if you don't mind me saying so, you need a change of heart and a change of clothing. I've got a satchel full of No Perfect People Allowed t-shirts outside, I could get you one if you wanted."

OUCH!!!!! Jesus said it in his own words else where (Matthew 9:9-13), "It is not the healthy who need to go to Kaiser, but its the sick. For I, the Messiah, didn't come for the righteous, but sinners." To have no problems is a problem. So, if you don't mind me showing my skin for a moment, I'm going to just take off this raggedy and tired perfection only and go with a more mild and appealing t-shirt.

Steve and Jessica are Married!!!!

2006-01-09T10:29:00.000-08:00

This past week Barb and I were able to celebrate with Steve and Jessica and scores of others up in Tahoe. Steve and Jessica were married at Edgewood Resort and said their vows in one of the most beautiful places on Earth. It was impressive--the scenery, ceremony and friends. Quite the memory maker.
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Crazy Making Formulas

2006-01-05T11:41:00.000-08:00

So, anyway, what I was saying is this, what I've been learning, with divine intervention, is that formulas are not the best way of approaching God. Henry Cloud and John Townsend have this book, 12 Christian Beliefs that can Drive You Crazy. What I realized when I was reading bits and pieces of it is that we all have assumptions that are really formulas. Here are a few: If I have God then I really don't need people to help me or to encourage me; If I make right choices I will grow spiritually; doing the right thing is more important than why I do it; If I'm spiritual enough I will not have pain, sinfulness and most crap that people send my way will not bother me. That's a few that they tackle.

I have a few assumptions and formulas of my own: if I read my Bible everyday I will get smarter and understand God more; If I pray, God will be more happy with me; If I do the right thing then I will be blessed, which means that "God's people" won't get mad; it's better to live in peace than to help resolve conflict; if I don't "hear from God" then I must be doing something wrong or there is "some sin in my life." My other assumption is long gone, "If I blog then I will only get positive and affirming comments." The pen is mightier than the sword, and I have fallen on both!

So really 2005 and 2006 are really tied together for me (check previous 2-3 posts). This jive about formulas puts be further along the road I walked last year when God was teaching me about "being."

2006-01-03T16:35:00.000-08:00

I guess January is a time to reflect and a time to look forward. The past 12 months or so have been about God teaching me how to be myself. Seems simple. Last January I was steeping in the truth that God created me with certain strengths and weaknesses and I should live within those. I spent most of last year asking this question, "Who is God calling me to be? Why has he created me? What work am I here to do and what am I to be?" It was a time of seeking out the depths of being and doing, one being inextricably linked with the other.

The prompting I've been getting lately is that, for the mean time, I should simply seek God in relationship and not in religion, in friendship and not in formula. Religion has killed many a man and many a faith. It's quite a thought: God being emotionally interested in me, of having that feeling in the pit of his stomach because of his concern for me. I hope to sail further into that bright horizon.

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A Few Days to Rest

2005-12-31T23:10:00.000-08:00

It was Christmas night and I heard Santa say, "Yo, ho, ho and a bottle of rum." Maybe I've got that wrong.

Barb and I went up to Sea Ranch with Robert, Mandy and Adam this past week. It was burly. Landslides, flooded roads, going in the dark, fog and rain trying to make it somewhere I've never been without a map, guided only by the verbalized direction of strangers. Oh, did I mention that in the midst of the ocean spray, howling winds, landslides, dump trucks that there were also cows crossing the road? But when we drug ourselves into the house and ate and drank into the night the morning greeted us with splendor. The west wall of the house was 95% glass and before us in I-MAX form was the Pacific tossing extra foamy waves and froth to and fro, breaking on the crags only a stone's throw away.

We all went out onto the crags and cautiously enjoyed the view. I realized one thing--the ocean is scary. It is not safe. If you were in what we saw you would have no chance. Heck, I'm surprised the fish didn't jump onto shore just to get out of it. So I am changing the saying--"The ocean hath no fury like a woman scorned."

It was a good rest. I watched Sports Center and fell asleep in the recliner with the sun warming me through the I-MAX wall as I read a book I didn't understand. The conversation was good, uplifting and the food was plentiful and so was the coffee and the eggnog. Oh, and the fireplace.

All of this was a gift that was provided for by some people I really admire. I will never forget this past week.

Christmas thought Number One

2005-12-20T12:03:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas everyone! Hope all is well with all of you. I'm fine, thanks for asking. Oh, and Barb? She's good too. Aren't you so handsomely warm today?

If I would have thought ahead I would have had a Christmas devotional or thought for the day each day this week, but a las, I don't have it together this time around. As a matter of fact, I can't really believe it's here already and don't feel quite up to speed about my duties this weekend during our worship times.

Hillside always has beautiful Christmas services. I wish that you could see it. It has a great vaulted ceiling with wood beams their original color. Lighted garland rings the walls and the advent wreath is suspended from the ceiling. Quite beautiful. And the people are extremely loving and warm. Something good is always happening within the community here.

Below is a quote I read recently from Napolean, not the one with cool hair and a great flare for pronunciation, but the one who tried to conquer the world:

"I know men; and I tell you that Jesus Christ is no mere man. Between Him and every other person in the world there is no possible term of comparison. Alexander, Caesar, Charlemagne, and I have founded empires. But on what did we rest the creations of our genius? Upon force! Jesus Christ founded His empire upon love; and at this hour millions of men would die for Him!"

Not with force did Jesus build his kingdom, but with love. And that love propels many to serve and sacrifice for him. I'm glad that Napolean did say, ". . . and at this hour millions of men would kill for Him!" because that would be the antithesis of Jesus. The more I read about Jesus the more I am attracted to him.

An Original Grand Slam Goodbye

2005-12-12T11:46:00.000-08:00

Today I said goodbye to Paul Stavrand, a friend of mine. He is moving to New York to attend Columbia University. Over a year ago Paul, Jim and I started meeting for accountability. It's been a good year with those guys and they have always supported me with emails, calls and candid conversations. It's good to have a community like that.

We three met at Denny's off of Paradise Drive this morning and said our goodbyes. I'm going to miss Paul and his take on life and faith. He loves his wife and kids and I think they will do very well being back on the East Coast with family and pursuing this dream.

So, here's to a safe cross-country trip!

Ears to Hear and Eyes to Read

2005-12-06T09:35:00.000-08:00

I'm currently in one of the best reading times of my life. Tomorrow evening we wrap up our read through and discussion of The Chronicles of Narnia. It has been unbelievably good and I learned that reading a book with others is a very good thing, something I hope to continue into the future.

Robert McNamara, former Secretary of Defense to JFK and LBJ, has a documentary about 11 lessons from his life entitled, The Fog of War. Said to admit it but up until this point I knew or understood very little of the Vietnam war. I had seen several Vietnam War movies but this documentary trumped them all. I do not watch re-runs, a trait I inherited from my dad, but I have seen The Fog of War about 5 times. I watched it 3 times in one week. I then went to the Larkspur library and picked up Argument Without End: In Search of Answers to the Vietnam Tragedy. It is a brilliant book and by page 93 I understood precisely why it is a tragedy on many parts. All I have been able to say is this: it was one misunderstanding after another, which led not to more thorough communication, but toward escalation. I have mourned as I have turned the pages. I have groaned audibly. And at times I have shook my fist at so many people. Oh, let me tell you how the book is put together. McNamara had this idea that he and high level officials who were in government at that time would travel along with scholars to meet with their counterparts in the Vietnamese government at that time, many who are still alive and well. I think that had a half a dozen meetings and simply ask the question, "What were the missed opportunities." I'll gladly talk to you about it, but I'm telling you, if you ever wanted to know about Vietnam, just read 90 pages into Argument Without End.

Yesterday I finished The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. Very, very good. You can read it in four hours and you might want to read it again after the last page. It's about a shepherd boy having a dream about finding a treasure in the Pyramids of Egypt. The book is about that journey and how, "When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it." He takes a courageous journey to pursue his dream and his treasure and is faced with hardship and goodness. There are several beautiful passages that make you stop and soak it in and make you reflect upon your own life. Reminds me a lot of the spiritual life.

I just picked up Searching for God Knows What by Donald Miller, who also wrote Blue Like Jazz. He writes about the spiritual life passionately, humorously and insighfully. You can ask Barb, I laughed out loud about 10 times in 20 minutes. If you want to read someone who just might be able to verbalize what you've been feeling all the long, then Don's book is a good help. If you think God is bigger than formulas and our thoughts about him, then what are you waiting for?

And just as a bonus, I've never told you about one of the best music groups in the world-- Over the Rhine. I'm currently listening to Drunkard's Prayer and Ohio. I never tire of their poignant lyrics.

Messiness to Holiness?

2005-12-06T09:07:00.000-08:00

This weeks has started off fair enough. I've been quite antsy for the past 3 days. I was sick in St. Louis and all of last week practically. I spent about 6 days cloistered from civilization reduced to eating cream-of-anything soup and drinking water--it was like I was on a vegetarian island. Oh, did I tell you that yesterday I slept 10 hours straight without waking? For my superiors who may or may not read this--it was my day off. My personal best was in St. Louis where Barb and I both slept for 17 hours straight, but that has to have an asteriks beside it because we tossed and turned a great bit.

Prince's sermon on Sunday was unbelievably good. He spoke on the Gift of Messiness. When we are faced with messiness we do three things: get apathetic about our spiritual life and say, "I can't do it"; get legalistic and rigid because that offers control and certainty (so we think); or we get honest and walk faithfully and trustfully with God through it all.

It gave me a lot to think about. The Scripture is full of people who were in either of those camps. Prince gave the example of Noah, who is a picture of faithfulness; you know, building an ark in wilderness and such. And then after he survives Katrina's bigger and meaner brother he gets naked and gets drunk. Being a flood survivor must be extremely tough. I also think of David--shepherd boy, man-child, warrior, poet, king, and, GULP, adulterer.

Then there are those who are rigid. If you were/are the kind of person who thought they knew everything about God then Jesus would've been pretty annoying. There were those who were hyper-rigid and led mostly from their head and not from their heart. This wasn't all the religious leaders because we know that Nicodemus was among the Sanhedrin and in Acts he spoke on behalf of the apostles. Some of the Pharisees, Sadducees and Scribes followed Jesus. There were some, however, who thought got fit in a box--whether that box was the Temple, the synagogue, or even today, the church. When Jesus tells the story of the lost coin, the lost sheep and the lost child in Luke 15 he is speaking about the out of the box God. And Jesus loved those who were considered to be "irreligious." He hung out and loved (notice the text never says Jesus "tolerated" them) them.

Then there are those who accept the messiness and walk with God through it. That was the gospel for me--truly the "good news." I don't have to be squeaky clean. And thank goodness because on my bed right now is an overdue library book!!! It's okay to have a messy life--Jesus turns messiness to holiness. That's that whole bit about sanctification. Paul dealt with it and so did Peter. And for that matter--so did William Carey, Martin Luther and Dietrich Bonhoeffer. And so does Jason Elder.

Our Fearless American Staffordshire Terrier

2005-12-02T10:27:00.000-08:00

So, the past few days here north of Ring Mountain have been windy, wet and wild. The wind whipped up pretty hard for about 2 days. On the San Rafael/Richmond Bridge (which is across water) a big rig was blown over by the wind (I suppose the shell was empty). A few trees were damaged around our little house. The door to our entrance (our entrance is a greenhouse) was beaten half-past-dead so I have to go get a new one.

And then, there is Matches. You've read about her before. She's a pitbull, ooppps, I mean, American Staffordshire Terrier. She's an inside dog. She has to, absolutely has to, be in the same room as a human. She sleeps 20 hours a day, never barks, fetches okay, and uses the potty in the backyard, of course. Well, this is the most rain she's seen since we got her at the near end of the rainy season this year. And, I think she just doesn't like rain. She doesn't mind a wet backyard but rain from above is not her thing. So all this week I've been having to push her scrowny tail out to the backyard and stand out there in the rain for her to go!

So before we put her in her crate for the night we open up the door and she usually goes out, but not last night. It was still pretty stormy at 1030 but I open the door and just assume she is going to the backyard, when all of the sudden I look and she has not left the doorway but is peeing on our doormat!!!!!! Oh the Humanity!!!!! I started crying out laughing at her and said, "You are the biggest punk I've ever seen." I mean, this is a prank a college friend would play. She then shakes the dew off her lilly, looks up at me, pauses, steps over the defiled doormat and comes right back in and lays down.

Well, she's a pretty smart dogs as dogs go, so today I'm teaching her to deep clean.

Bill Press--IRS and Church: Addendum

2005-11-30T11:56:00.000-08:00

Okay, this is an addendum to the November 16 post about the IRS questioning a church about its tax-exempt status. Bill Press, whose column I cited, said that it was in relation to the church's previous minister questioning the current war in Iraq.

I got some serious flack from that post and feel I should clear things up. I want to first say this (which I heard a presenter say at a recent conference)--don't hear what I'm not saying. When I cited Bill Press I knew that red flags would go up. Heck, when I was creating the code to link to his cite I had to beat the red flags out of my face. Just because I cite Bill Press or any other article or author (see my right margin also) doesn't mean that I necessarily agree with them 100%, 70% or even 18%. And just because I do not cite certain other websites or authors doesn't mean that I'm anti this or anti that.

So, why did I post that article? Well, before I answer that let me say a few other things. I personally believe that Press over shot some of his statements. I highly doubt that President Bush assigned an IRS hit man to target the church. I don't know who did or why. I highly doubt that Richard Nixon is a fitting comparison with President Bush. And I don't really think that President Bush wants to headhunt that church or, as far as I know, Valerie Plame or Joe Wison.

I know where Press leans politically but I was intrigued by his comments about Jesus. That's what I wanted to look at.

Further, another reason is that I spent some time doing summer missions in Vancouver, B.C. When I was there a conservative church in the western part of the country was speaking out against the Canadian government's endorsement of homosexual marriage. That church had its tax-exempt status challenged because the church was speaking about "policy and politics." And even in British Columbia some pastors were having to weigh what they could and could not say on Sundays. My concern is that if a "liberal" church could face that kind of treatment then what about "conservative" churches when the pendulum swings, which it usually does?

My point was not that I support all of the doctrine of the liberal or conservative churches but that I am concerned that any faith community is threatened because of their stance on any moral issue. What if, in the future, (imagine this!) that there are unfair taxes on a vulnerable group of people and the church, like the Prophet Amos decries it, what then? The church, in my opinion, should be very interested in some developments within our government, because we should not separate our faith from our practice. However, I think that eventually church after church may have to come to a point and say, "Tax-exempt status be damned, we're doing what's right." Our hope doesn't come from exemption or from the government, in reality, our help comes from the Lord.

My parents read this site and give me feedback about some of my thoughts. Bless their hearts they had to live with me. Emailing my dad helped me sort through some of my thoughts. One person read this and told me that he was sorely diappointed that I would have an article like this. A person said I was, in essence, leaving behind Jesus, and therefore becoming "leftist." One said he would never read the cite again. And who said I couldn't kill multiple birds with one stone!!!! I guess that's why my degree wasn't in marketing.

I've spent over a week thinking of what to write in response, so thanks, Dad for the good help.

How Far is Far?

2005-11-30T11:41:00.000-08:00

Right now the dog is at my feet chewing on her rope, the laundry from the church is in the wash and I've got a good rest of the day ahead. Tomato soup for lunch, study and preparation for the Chronicles of Narnia class tonight that I'm teaching, preparation for the small group I'm leading tomorrow night.

I was reading Evelyn Underhill (excerpts actually, from Devotional Classics) and she wrote, gee, 80 or so years ago about how three faculties (thinking, feeling, acting) go into praying and living out the "spiritual life." It seemed simplistic, which means that it was the hardest thing to do. So I spent some time thinking about what I needed to pray about, and well, I didn't get much past that. I often find that in my prayer my thoughts are jumbled and run from one thing to the next. I hope God doesn't mind. So I went in and out of that kind of prayer, which was really frustrating. Maybe I was still drowsy and not fully awakened, maybe I've just been out of my routine and rhythm, or maybe it was just one of those days and even though God didn't seem close he actually was. You ever have prayers or times like that?

My first thought was, "God I feel distanced from you." But then I realized that was a general statement so I needed to specify. I didn't feel God was far away when we were having some certain conversations at Jane and Jon's in St. Louis. I didn't feel God was far away when we talked to the soldier (see post below). The answer was, I felt far from God as it related to my reading of Scripture, prayer and personal worship. I want to get into a better rhythm and have felt the urge and starting tomorrow will take action.

That's a new kind of thought or two for me. It's not that I segment my life, but that in reality we have so many "tentacles" attaching to God at different places in our life (our personal, our private, our communal, and others) that at times we neglect some connections and they get corroded or become limp from dis-use.

A Conversation with a Great American Soldier

2005-11-29T13:38:00.001-08:00

A Conversation with a Great American Soldier

A great thing happened on the way home from Thanksgiving holiday. Barb and I make it to our gate two hours before the plane was scheduled to take off--we thought there might be other people wanting to fly that day. We sat down, got out our respective Narnia books and started reading. Do you ever enter into "book coma?" You know, you read and you read and all of the sudden an hour has passed and you hardly noticed. Well, when I came out of "book coma" I heard a man speaking to someone. I looked over to my left (Barb was on my left also) and I saw a 60-ish man speaking to a 20-ish man dressed in his battle fatigues. The soldier was sitting on a luggage rack as the whole seating area was full. Actually, Barb and I had our stuff in an extra seat, but that was before the "book coma." We're usually thoughtful people.

I heard the soldier tell the man he was going to battle, his first battle. My heart was instantly pulled toward him, and I felt God (somehow and in someway) prompt me to pay attention). Me, being the great "follower of Jesus" I am, tried to push it aside, saying, "Gosh, really. No, you can't want me to talk to a complete stranger about his faith. I'm really sensitive to sharing my faith and always try to go about it in sensitive, articulate and appropriate ways. How was this going to be any of that?

So, I go back to reading my book. And, well, Barb awoke from her book coma and said, "Jase, there's a soldier over here. He's going to battle. We should invite him to sit up here instead of on that rack."

"Yeah, of course. There's no need for him to sit there."

Barb invited him over and he sat on the end seat. I sat in the middle and Barb sat to my right. It was a three seat bench facing the runway.

"Thanks for giving me this seat."

"No, problem, man."

"We heard you were going. Where to?"

"Iraq."

"Wow. I think we're on the wrong flight. We were only wanting to go to San Francisco." (actually, I didn't say that, but it would've been funny.)

Then he wanted to deflect attention off of himself, "How was your Thanksgiving? Are you from St. Louis?" We told him where we are from originally and that we live in the Bay Area.

He told us how he had just seen his family and his niece and how hard it was to believe that his brother had a wife and kid now. This soldier was only 23 and was the older of the brothers.

"Is it difficult to leave them right now?"

"You know, I've always wanted to do this, ever since I was little. When I jump from the plane there's nothing else I want to do. I can't believe I get paid to do it. So, yes and no."

I said, "It's good to find something that you are passionate about and come to a place where you can do that for a living."

"What do you two do?"

Barb told him she was an art teacher and I told him I was a pastor at a church north of San Francisco. He asked us what it's like to live in SF. I told him that there are some who solidify the stereotypes of SF but that many people are down to earth, that a lot of people fly the American flag, have patriotic bumper stickers and that I see innumerous "Support Our Troops" bumper stickers.

He said he had an art teacher that Barb reminded him of and they talked a little bit about that. He then went on to tell Barb and me about how he is greeted sometimes when he and some of his friends go out. Some places have paid for his meal when they see his military i.d.. Some people go out of the way to walk over and shake his/their hands and thank him for their service.

And then a surprise. He told us how some others greet them. He told us how some people are very antiwar and have threatened he and his friends and in one city even shot at the soldiers. It hurt for Barb and I to hear it and I'm sure it hurt him to have that happen, to leave and to serve and to face that at home. Unthinkable. But he never cursed those people and even in talking to us he was very calm and seemed to give leniency to them.

I patted him on the back and told him thanks for serving America and for doing the dangerous and hard thing. He shook our hands and we exchanged names. His name is Carl. I ended up giving him a book I was reading through and put Barb's and my name in so that he would remember us and know that we would be thinking of him.

Well, we were approaching "conversation coma" and then we realized that it was time to get on. We were going to be last in line. So we said our good-byes and he headed for the line. We ran to the restrooms real quick and watched him from a distance. The person behind him in line had also been in the service and he and Carl were chewing the fat.

I can't put to words what that did to me. Sometimes the war can become something like a miniseries on television. But that 15 or so minutes with this great American soldier restirred my love for our country, not that my love had diminished, mind you. Carl and thousands like him do the dangerous and brave thing so that I can travel freely with my wife, vote, speak about my faith openly and, yes, even blog without threat or pain of death.

Carl is scheduled to finish his tour in 18 months, so in the summer of 2007 (that's right) he will have finished his tour of duty. "God, preserve Carl there, and give him protection, guidance and wisdom in those hard decisions he talked about having to make. Bring comfort to his stateside family and peace to this earth. Amen."

A Gift of Thanks

2005-11-26T17:28:00.000-08:00

I hope your Thanksgiving was very good. Barb's cousin, Molly, spent a semester abroad in New Zealand. Molly's parents, Jane and Jon, flew to NZ for vacation and flew back with her. They stopped over in San Francisco and had dinner with Barb and I. In the course of talking Jane said, "Barb, you dad's birthday is coming up. It's his 65th. What do you two think about being his presents? Jon and I would love to fly you both to St. Louis as a surprise."

Eventhough the question was directed to Barb I answered for us. So Wednesday we arrived in St. Louis. That night we planned to surprise Bill and Brenda, Barb's parents, as they had just driven in from Kansas City. Bill opened the door and had a stunned look on his face and then closed the door right in our face. It's was priceless. We were greeted with the best hugs and kisses.

The next day we drove to the in-laws of Barb's sister, Bev. We stood outside as Bill and Brenda went inside and told them that they needed help getting some things out of the car. We surprised them and got hugs all around. It is a moment I will not forget.

Jane and Jon are such great people and their children, our cousins, Molly and Matthew, are becoming good friends of ours. I can't say how much I really enjoyed being here.

However, Barb and I did end up with the bug, so last night was a very long night. I've been meaning to lose those ten pounds, but I had other things in mind. We fly out tomorrow afternoon and begin the grind.

Hope all is well.

November 22

2005-11-22T13:14:00.000-08:00

Today marks my 29th time around the sun. Thanks Mom and Mother Nature for making me vacate the premises in 1976. that was the best eviction ever. Today Barb and I went to Dipsea Cafe, which is the cafe we started going to for our Friday morning dates about 5 or so years ago--dates that started at 7am. It's going to be a full and fun date. Have a good day.

Church Opposes War--

2005-11-16T09:20:00.000-08:00

Below is an article that grabbed my attention. There is a cause for concern in this piece. I have a few questions I'm asking that I've included at the end. Feel free to include your questions or even some of your thoughts. I'd be very pleased to hear what others think..

Church Opposes War - IRS Declares War On Church November 10, 2005
Written by Bill Press and taken from www.billpress.com

Richard Nixon lives. In one of the more notorious acts of his presidency, Nixon turned the Internal Revenue Service into a White House attack dog, unleashing them to go after anyone who dared cross his path: Alabama Gov. George Wallace, Democratic Chair Lawrence O’Brien, Sen. George McGovern and the Ford Foundation, among others.

Richard Nixon lives on in the person of George W. Bush, only more evil than ever. At least Nixon only sicced the IRS on his political enemies. Bush has turned the tax cops loose on at least one religious leader simply for expressing his opposition to the war in Iraq. And he won’t be the last.
It started with All Saints Episcopal Church in Pasadena, Calif., where Rector J. Edwin Bacon was recently notified by the IRS that his church risks losing its tax-exempt status. Why? “A reasonable belief exists that you may not be tax-exempt as a church,” warned the IRS, because of a sermon preached by former rector George F. Regas on Oct. 31, 2004, shortly before the last presidential election.

Regas is one of Southern California’s best known clergymen, and a long-time peace activist. He was an outspoken opponent of the war in Iraq. I met him in the 1980s, when he helped lead opposition to the Reagan administration’s illegal support of the contras in Nicaragua. It was no surprise when he stepped into the pulpit and spoke in opposition to the war in Iraq.

That’s not an unusual position for a priest, rabbi or minister to take. Regas, in fact, was doing nothing more than echoing the teachings of the Prince of Peace: “Put your sword back in its place. For all who draw the sword will die by the sword.” In his sermon, Regas told the congregation that, were Jesus Christ alive today, He would not support the war in Iraq. In fact, said Regas, if Jesus could only make it through White House security (a Middle Eastern man with a beard?), he would tell Bush: “Mr. President, your doctrine of pre-emptive war is a failed doctrine. Forcibly changing the regime of an enemy that posed no imminent threat has led to disaster.”

In taking that stand, Regas was hardly alone among church leaders. In fact, during the buildup to the U.S. invasion of Iraq, only one religious organization — the Southern Baptist Convention — supported the war. Every other church or organization, including many individual Baptist churches, came out in opposition. The general secretary of the World Council of Churches called the war in Iraq “illegal, immoral and unwise.” Pope John Paul II sent his personal emissary to tell President Bush his plans for war were morally indefensible.

Indeed, when it comes to war, it is pro-war Christians, not anti-war Christians, who should bear the burden. The message of Jesus is clear: “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God.” Let those Christians who opt for war over peace explain why they know better than Jesus. But don’t punish those who take Him seriously and oppose a particular war — especially an unprovoked, pre-emptive war.

So why was Regas singled out for retaliation by the IRS? Surely, not for preaching the Gospel. But not for violating the separation of church and state, either. In opposing the war, he was talking policy, not politics. In fact, in that same anti-war sermon, Regas said that “good people of profound faith” could vote for either John Kerry or George W. Bush. He made no endorsement. No, Regas was singled out for one reason only: because he dared speak out against the war in Iraq. Consider this: Regas purposely did not tell members of his flock how to vote. Yet, at the same time, Jerry Falwell, Pat Robertson, and other evangelical preachers told their followers it was their “Christian duty” to vote for Bush. Now Regas is targeted by the IRS, while Falwell and Robertson are not: proof that the attack on Regas is part of a political witch hunt, initiated by the Bush White House, and directed against critics of the war.

There’s one way to stop the IRS. All George Bush has to do is pull the plug. Of course, he’ll never do that. Bush wants to destroy Rev. George Regas, just like he tried to destroy Joe Wilson and Valerie Plame — and he won’t hesitate to use taxpayer-funded government agencies to do so. Even Richard Nixon would be appalled. --end

What of this is over-the-top rhetoric (witch hunt, "destroy Joe Wilson", et al) and what is factual?
--Should the IRS do that to any religious group who expresses an opinion opposite the current administration?
--Did Jesus really mean what he said, even what he said concerning war and conflict? If not, then how many qualifiers must be included in explaining my point?
--Is it true that Regas was targeted even though he didn't endorse either candidate and yet others who did endorse a candidate were not "targeted?"
--If others call Bill Press "liberal" does that make his articles less powerful even if it might be based on fact?
--President Bush, a man of [Christian] faith, had many believers counsel him against this war. How did this advice effect him or any of his decisions?
--What is the role of faith communities when it comes to voicing concerns over policy or any government in any part of the world?

--Are you concerned with what you read?

November

2005-11-09T18:47:00.000-08:00

Ah, November. Did I ever tell you it is my favorite month. Actually, I wish November could be a season, or even a year. I love it no wherever I am--growing up in the South or living out here on the West Coast. I have tried to think about why I love it so much and I can only give a few thoughts. Maybe, I'm having thoughts of Guns and Roses, and that kicking song, that builds up, " . . .the cold November Rain."

First, it's my birthday month.

Second, it's when both sides of my family (Reed and Elder) would gather.

Third, nothing is really expected toward the end of the month--just eating food, watching tv, and sleeping.

Fourth, I love being warm. Growing up we had this great wood heater that would suffocate the house with heat. I love the warmth and I love to see the smoke billowing from chimneys.

Fifth, gee, it's getting kind of thin. Perhaps I love how everything slows down. I think this season mathces my "rhythm." Does that make sense to you? I have friends who are definitely Spring people, or live for July. For me, I prefer the Fall. Actually, since being married, most of the trips Barb and I take are during this time. Did you know that "the Lost Coast" north of here and Monterrey, south of here, are both very beautiful. Every bit as beautiful as it is in summer, and that's saying a lot.

Anyway, how about you?

Back to Where it All Began

2005-11-04T15:10:00.000-08:00

I wonder where this post is going . . .

You know, sometimes I've got so much to say I can't wait to sign in to blogger and power up my text box so I can give my thoughts some kind of outlet. At other times, perhaps like today, I do have some thoughts to share but I'm not really clear on what it is I should write about, so forgive me if I ramble.

I took a drive on Highway 37 today toward the south side of Petaluma. It's beautiful country. I took a left onto Lakeville Highway which is lined with vineyards, dairies and other family farms. The eucalyptus trees spread up and hold hands over the top of the road as if the London Bridge is falling down. It rained a bit last night and the morning air was crisp like the first breath you take after a good dream. The clouds were marching by twos right above the coastal range and were white, black and gray--kaleidiscopic, schizophrenic and hypnotic. The leaves bounced in a wake in my rear view mirror and the road curved like suspenders on a portly old man. I found myself, with only 30 minutes separating me and my home, in another land, much like the land in which you find yourself as you read a book. It's like you are looking not down into the story of the book but are a participant in all that is happening. And so I felt I was not just floating through but a part of it all. And when I turned that curve and went upward over the mound I saw, 20 miles away, the city rising up through the Bridge, just right of a blue island. I immediately braked so the moment would last longer, more than just a few blinks of the eye and a breath from my lungs. I could have hung there like a leaf until gravity, time and destiny pulled me to parachute back down to where it all began.

A Personal Apology

2005-11-01T22:38:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I was just reminded that the mattress I groaned about the other day was, indeed, given to me by a friend. Let's call her Winston's Owner. Winston's Owner, for now on will be abbreviated, "WO", is a giving and caring person, whether she wants to be called that or not. She and Winston's Male Owner gave Barb and I their fairly new and unused mattress, gee, two years ago. I do not want "that hasty blog" to be the end of a relationship which I spent approximately 36 hours a week cultivating, except for weeks with federal holidays. WO and I have gone through tough times together--even danger to our health and sanity and yet our friendship survived. So, I'd like to apologize and say that the mattress is fine.

Actually, Barb and I got a foamy mattress cover and it's even comfier now. So, to Wo and WMO, who installed their own hardwood floors and are some of the funniest people on that side of the Richmond Bridge, I say thank you. And, let's do lunch.

A Twenty-Five Hour Day

2005-10-30T21:01:00.000-08:00

Well, yesterday proved that if there was just one more hour in the day I could indeed get more done. However, I must agree with Barb on this one--I wouldn't use that extra time for sleep; I'd do something else and probably do it poorly.

I spoke today from Matthew 6--What Jesus said about authenticity. To quote Adam Duritz, "Getting to the heart of matters; it's the heart that matters more." We took a look at "authenticity--who you are when no one's looking; who you are when everyone's looking." Jesus is not so much interested in spiritual information as he is our spiritual formation. The heart and not the head is usually in the crosshairs. One of the ideas that was good for me to learn in my study was about what Jesus said about prayer, "Don't keep on babbling like 'the pagans' because they think they will be heard because they use so many words." The thoughts was this: God does not hear us and answer us because we talk so much. He answers us because he loves us. We are to pray simply and to simply pray."

After our second service we had 3 baptisms at Prince and Leta's house, in their hot tub with a view westerward toward Mount Tam. It was very moving for me, to tears actually. "It's a courageous thing to be baptized in Marin County," Prince said. I was once again captivated by this centuries old tradition.

I drove out to Tiburon to look at the water, the boats and the city. It was a perfect day here. There's really nothing that compares to the bay area the sunny day after it rains. There's freshness in nature and sunny expectations from those outside.

We went to Terrance and Meshanette's home tonight to hang with them. Kenny is home and is quite adorable. Vincent was fun to be around. Love that family.

Here's to Halloween--now go get your freak on!!!!!!!

Break-fast

2005-10-29T22:32:00.000-07:00

Today has been a good day. Barb and I broke away from routine this morning (Saturday) and had breakfast at the Dipsea Cafe. The Dipsea is where Barb and I spent many Friday mornings when we first started dating. I worked 40 plus during the days and she worked about as much during the evenings and we were both full-time students whenever we could squeeze in the classes. The only time we could have a date was Friday mornings at Dipsea. It was good then and it was good today. I have a good wife/girlfriend.

Tomorrow I'm speaking on the topic, "What Jesus Said about Authenticity." Just a few days ago all I basically had for content was "What Jesus Said about Authenticity . . .he's for it." I've added some content since then. I'm using the Matthew 6 text: when you give don't be like the hypocrites; when you pray don't keep babbling; when you fast don't be like the hypocrites. I turned to Isaiah 58 and it rocked my world. God desires more than formalities. He deals with the heart, not the head most of the times. He's more interested in spiritual formation and not just spiritual information. Interesting: it seems that God desires justice, mercy and humility more than any other thing.

Well, hallelujah, I have one extra hour to prepare/to sleep tonight.

Adios.

Jason

The Woeful Back

2005-10-26T22:16:00.000-07:00

Ah, a poor night's rest. There's nothing like it. There is nothing more boring than lying awake at night, hearing the wind push the bare arms and hands of the trees around causing them to drop their earthy-colored hankies. There is nothing more infuriating than lying in bed actually saying, "Man, I better go wake the rooster up; he's sleepin' late today."

Back problems. It's been a consistent issue for several years now. I'm not even 50! I'm barely half of 50! We can't afford a new mattress yet, so I'm building my own out of nails. . . . We may get a foamy kind of cover for our bed. Hope it helps. If it doesn't I'm going to have to start checkin' these bags when I go to the airport. I heat; I ice; I stretch. . . pretty much everything the docs and the phys. ther. says to do, but alas, I am like a door on a rusty hinge--moaning every time I turn.

However, I did run across a good website: www.theonion.com

Check out the article about Halloween (sorry, too tired to remember code right now).

Kenneth has Come

2005-10-21T22:17:00.000-07:00

Well, Kenneth has come. Terrance and Meah had their baby boy yesterday morning in San Francisco. Barb and I spent some time with them yesterday morning, went into infant icu and saw Kenny. Oh, my gosh, what a boy! I just don't know if there is anything better than seeing your friend's baby.

T and Meah moved up from SoCal about a year ago. We met them one Sunday morning and have loved getting to know them. Class A people.

Well, my small token to a huge event.

A Grande Cup of Faith?

2005-10-19T11:18:00.000-07:00

I'll take a decaf, non-fat, extra-foamy cup of faith please. Oh, and could I get that to go? Interesting article about Starbucks.

Starbucks stirs things up with a God quote on cups

By Cathy Lynn Grossman, USA TODAYWed Oct 19, 7:25 AM ET

Coffee drinkers could get a spiritual jolt with their java in the spring when Starbucks begins putting a God-filled quote from the Rev. Rick Warren, author of the mega-selling The Purpose-Driven Life, on its cups.

It will be the first mention of God in the company's provocative quote campaign, The Way I See It. In 2005, Starbucks is printing 63 quotes from writers, scientists, musicians, athletes, politicians and cultural critics on cups for company-run and licensed locations to carry on the coffeehouse tradition of conversation and debate.

Some mention "faith in the human spirit," but none is overtly religious. Last month, Baylor University pulled Starbucks cups after objections to a quote from writer Armistead Maupin saying that "life is too damn short" to hide being gay.
Warren says the idea of a grande pitch for God as creator came to him after seeing a Starbucks quote on evolution from paleontologist Louise Leakey. Because Starbucks solicited customer contributions for 2006, Warren sent his in. On Tuesday, Starbucks spokeswoman Sanja Gould confirmed that it would be used.

The cups carry a disclaimer that the opinions "do not necessarily reflect the views of Starbucks."

But a few companies plant clues to Christianity in their wrappings, music or signs precisely because the owners are believers. In-N-Out Burger, the California-based fast-food chain, has included tiny notations for Bible verses in some of its burger and drink packaging since Richard Snyder, son of the founders, called for it in 1987. "He told me, 'It's just something I want to do,' " company spokesman Carl Van Fleet says.

After Snyder's death in 1993, "the family felt strongly about keeping this just as he had done it" at its 196 outlets in California, Arizona and Nevada. The Bible book and verse in minuscule type "are so subtle most of our customers never notice."
One who did: Don Chang, the deeply religious founder of clothing chains Forever 21 and XXI. Five years ago, the clothier copied In-N-Out by stamping the Bible book, chapter and verse notation John 3:16 on the bottom of his stores' shopping bags: "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life."
It's "evidence of faith," corporate spokesman Larry Meyer says.

Other owners making a faith statement in the secular marketplace include David Green, whose craft chain Hobby Lobby plays only Christian contemporary music in its 362 stores, and S. Truett Cathy, who advertises that Chick-fil-A sandwich shops nationwide are closed on Sundays to free employees to focus on faith and family.

"Americans are more accepting of overt religiosity these days, and corporations are good at figuring out how to do it with a light touch, one that's not going to scare off unbelievers," says sociologist David Halle, director of the LeRoy Neiman Center for the Study of American Society and Culture at the University of California-Los Angeles.

Alaska Airlines has put baseball-card-size prayer cards on hot-meal trays for 30 years "just to differentiate us from the competition," spokeswoman Amanda Tobin says. "Compliments have always far outweighed complaints."

My Inner Child: the Comback Kid

2005-10-18T13:46:00.000-07:00

Your Inner Child Is Surprised

You see many things through the eyes of a child. Meaning, you're rarely cynical or jaded. You cherish all of the details in life. Easily fascinated, you enjoy experiencing new things.

How Is Your Inner Child?

I always knew I had an inner child--I think I have punk slapped that kid every now and again. But that kid keeps bouncing back. Yes, my inner child is the "Comeback Kid." Have you ever thought about how magnificent we are, how much we can endure, and yet how easily we break?

X-rays, asprin and a tingly jaw

2005-10-18T13:19:00.000-07:00

Good day to you. Thanks for reading.

The past week was filled to the brim. Among other things, last Friday and Saturday I got to spend some time in a city that I've wanted to visit since I was a teenager. I accompanied two others for financial counseling training in Portland, Oregon. I live very close to San Francisco, but I must say, that on that day I was in awe of the beauty of that place. No words can describe that kind of scenery. It was a quick trip but I hope that Barb and I can spend several days there (if not at once, then over the course of our life--I'm easily pleased).

I went to the doctor yesterday about severe pain in my left foot. It was a disappointing visit, kind of like that joke: I went to the doctor. I said, "Doc, it hurts when I do this." Well what did the doctor say? He said, "Well, don't do that." If you are like me, well, shame on you. But further, if you are like me then you say, "My foot is hurting. My foot is not hurting because there is a lack of asprin in my body. My foot is not hurting because there is a lack of ibuprofren in my body. My foot is not hurting because it is not ice cold enough. The pain is a symptom. There has to be a better way than simply saying, "Don't walk on it," and "Here, have some ibupropren." So, for just about the first time in my life--I disobeyed the doctor.

Although, before leaving they did send me down to get my foot x-rayed. Boy am I glad that they have those lead vests and things so you can cover what matters. So they took about three or four pictures of my foot and said I could leave, which meant disobeying the doctors order of staying off the foot. Well, I only use my left foot half the time anyway, so it's not all bad. No, not to give you the wrong impression--I stretch every way that the pamphlet tells me. I ice. I even try to avoid putting it in my mouth. I said, "So, what's next for me? When do I find out what you saw when you took that machine and looked inside my foot?" He'll call you if he finds anything irregular...

And today started off with an 845 visit to the dentist. She's good. One of the best I've ever had. I had a filling that cracked. To fill that "pothole" I stuffed some chocolate, ice cream and burrito down into it. It's fixed now. My mouth is still tingly. I have three cavities. My all time high score for cavities is around 20. I never flossed as a kid or adolescent and I never went to the dentist until I was about 18. One summer I spent every Thursday in the chair looking at two masked people and seeing the halo from the Pearson and Crane dental light. You never want to hear a dentist look into your mouth and say, "Holy, crap. What happened?"

Well, I must away.

Holy Eucharist--Beyond

2005-10-16T16:58:00.000-07:00

There has been a renewal of the long-standing conversation about the existence of humans. Some hold to evolution. Some are speaking toward "intelligent design." And some are quite comfortable with the idea of God creating a creation that creates. I have even read where a very devout follower says succinctly, "I think evolution is one of God's greatest inventions."

At times I think that conversation is quite interesting, but I think if we were to scan all of the Scripture we would see that in its entirety the Scriptures go beyond that--beyond how and toward why.

It is one thing to speculate about how--between you and me, I wasn't there, so I can't say exactly what happened. It is another thing to speak about why. Why were humans created? Actually, let's get a bit more personal. Why were grandparents created? Why were your friends created? Why were your grandchildren created?

Why were you created? There is a purpose for your existence. We didn't create ourselves, so there is no way we can tell ourselves what we were created for (to quote Purpose Driven Life). The reason must come from God.

Beyond your skin and more deep than your cells, beyond your double helix, atoms and strings, taking up residence within your soul is something that years. Perhaps you have felt this before. You have had that suspicion that all is not as it seems--that Jesus or God or something has to be figured in. You are right, not because I say so, but because in saying so you have summed up most of the Scripture. Scripture is beyond speculation and is toward revelation; God speaking to us as individuals in a community.

And at Communion, or the Holy Eucharist, God speaks to us again and again. God did not remain in a remote location, under a rock he created, far removed from us. He sent his Son Jesus to this earth to fulfill the necessary and difficult steps of renewing and redeeming our fragmented relationship with God and others. He not only gave us his Scripture; he gave us his son.

And in coming to earth he made himself available for all--for everyone who was/is willing. Are you willing today?

Communion is more than a procession toward bread and juice. There is a quiet and deep mystery. Somehow God meets us here through these elements. At times it may seem more potent than others, and that's okay, but he has made himself available nonetheless.

You may come this morning no matter who or how you are. We don't ask allegiance to us or even membership. We simply and gently ask that you listen to God and seek to draw closer to him, even if that means amending your life.

"God, as we come we realize that you too have come. There is a difference, for you are waiting--waiting, wiling and wanting. Help us to draw closer to you, so that others may be helped, that we be pleased, and that you would be glorified. Amen."

Oh, yeah, about those books

2005-10-13T10:22:00.000-07:00

So, I've got a stack of books I'm (trying) to read through right now. Earlier in the summer I started accumulating the column of soldiers I would annihilate, first by breaking their spine and then devouring their contents, leaving behind the appendix. What's that good for anyway? And well, the books/soldiers have mounted an offensive against my goodwilled gestures and intentions. They have apparently taped velcro to my butt and have thus forced me to stay on the couch. Any movement made toward the books is checked by gravity, velcor and a loud tearing noise.

Actually my schedule has changed to where I have less optimal reading time. I'm really stoked about the next 10 weeks or so. I'm helping conduct the Alpha Course at Hillside Church. I'm helping teach through the Chronicles of Narnia. On Thursday night I am helping lead a small group through a curriculum called, "LifeShapes." Then, of course, there is one-on-one counseling, staff meetings, planning and the weekend services. Sometimes I stare at my calendar and I say, "Wow, that's going to be an interesting week." But I must say that each night I come home and I look at my wife and say, "I got to do what I was born to do today."

Barb and I have rearranged parts of our schedule so that still have our time together, which is a major asset to all that I do. We both have some discretionary time to use how we each want to use it. Life has changed and we are changing with it, trying to become wise with our energy and not just our time.

Oh, yeah, about those books. Here are the "to do's." I can't go into the details of each but here's a quickie:

Present Future: Six tough questions facing the Church
Volunteer Revolution: Living Beyond Ourselves
Making Room for Life: Priorities, Creating Overlapping Segments of your life
The Contrarians . . .: Uncommon Sense
Prince Capsian: C.S. Lewis
The Idiot: Don't quite know yet.
Men's Nutrition: it's more of a catalog that I pick up every now and then

For those with throats, let them scratch

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

Ah, yes, it's that time of year again--pumpkins, witches, candy corn, turkey, pilgrims and Santa. But none of that is what I want to write about today. I want to express my utmost dis-appreciation for the pollen of Marin County. For the last six weeks my sleep and my mornings have been interupted by sneezing of volcanic proportions, with that bless-ed itching ears and throat. Don't get me wrong: I'm glad I have ears and a throat and windows to open to let the pollen in, but the joke has just about ran its course.

Much is happening around these parts: Barb's sister and her family (Kurt and the kids, Lilly and Conrad) had to evacuate from Jasper, Tx. They returned to find a huge pine tree on their house. They are trying to rebuild and are trying to work. My heart hurts for them. We are trying to figure out a way to help them.

Barb is teaching in Alameda and it's her first year. So there is an enormous learning curve there. I have a lot of confidence in her and know that she is learning while she is teaching.

The dog, Matches, is still alive. So, I feel that is an accomplishment these days.

I'm reading several good books right now, and perhaps I will let you in on them later, but now I have a morning meeting to go to.

Hope all is well, sorry for the short work, here.

All my best, Jason

Five Dollars for Lemmonade?

2005-09-05T22:25:00.000-07:00

Well, prices are up all around the country. Since moving to northern California I've seen some big prices. About a month ago I paid $13 for a bag of charcoal! It's made of dirt!!! Doesn't seem fair. I know that with Hurricane Katrina gas prices are beyond ludicrous. Well, just fyi, I've been paying over $2.00 a gallon for about six years now. But today I reached a new pinnacle--$5 for a glass of lemmonade.

It wasn't at a concert and it wasn't at SBC Park or the Oakland Arena. It was right here just off of Paradise Drive. Two girls were standing on two large boulders with neon signs, "Lemmonade to Help Hurricane Victims -------->" Those girls had been out there for hours yelling for the passers by to please help. I like stuff like that. As a matter of fact, it's quite easy for me to get choked up at stuff like that. So after my work out (I recently joined a gym--more on that some other time) I headed back to my house and saw those girls waving the signs and screaming; I pulled in. They were more than appreciative. I rolled down my window and asked the price--$2. I looked in my wallet and I had some ones and then I saw a five.

I love this country and I love to see how in such circumstances children have talked with their parents, "What can we do for them?"

"Why don't you/we sell lemmonade?"

Such simplicity. Such mutual concern. God does bless the USA and we should bless others.

The Ethics of Looting

2005-09-02T09:54:00.000-07:00

Man, I cannot get the images and stories out of my mind. The images from the Gulf Coast keep pouring in and I watch, listen and weep. I just want to make a few quick statements and I'll let you get back to some of your important things.

I would "loot." "Loot" in some of the instances I see means scavenging for food, batteries and necessities. I would not go looking for appliances and such. At first I was amazed that people could do such things, but then I began thinking what I would do if I was in their soggy shoes. If I had kids who needed diapers, dry blankets, baby food; I would loot. If I had a relative who was sick and had a vacostomy bag strapped to their side; I would loot for medical kits and disinfectants. IF I had a wife who was hurt, hungry or needing something dire, yes, even tampons, I would loot.

You know that expression, in hell or high water, well, the Gulf Coast has had both at once. Before I many of us get to thinking that we are better than others let us stop to think--who's going to come down and open the grocery story so I can buy the fruit that's going to rot in a few days anyway? Who's going to come down and unlock the doors so I can buy Power Bars or clean water?

Once again, I don't think it is quite necessary to have televisions right now. There is no electricity. Radios, maybe, because they are battery operated and could give some very valuable information. It's easy to castigate, but I'm not the one who had to saw a hole into my roof to escape the waters that some of my family members couldn't escape.

Let's pray and give, pray and give.

A Prayer for the Gulf Coast

2005-09-01T17:25:00.000-07:00

God, you search the earth for hearts that would bow down and for heads you could lift, we pray that you, now, in your auspicious and gracious ways, would encourage the people along the Gulf Coast who have seen devastation that many of us can barely stand to watch on television. May your peace move them toward charity, equity, patience and hope. Help the invalid, the angry, the escaped, the refugees and all of those who are trying to help. May August 31 not remain for them a day of despair, but a day when deliverance was sent from you. Amen.

2005-09-01T17:23:00.000-07:00

A few weeks back I performed a beach wedding for Mitzi and Carl at Stinson Beach. It was all very charming and pretty: scenery, people, words, and the photos. I love marriage. I would recommend it to many, if not all I meet. I also love weddings. I get teary thinking about it--standing in front of a couple who is starting a step together. Much of life for some of us is about walking some stretches of road by ourselves--just walking closer to the destination, God. It's a very moving experience when you look across the lane from you and someone who is very beautiful, kind and dedicated is walking the same way, so you join up together. And the more you walk toward the destination the closer you get to one another. Very moving.
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A Neo-Feminist View of Abstinence

2005-08-19T13:27:00.000-07:00

Yes, the "s" word. I don't mean sword, but sex. Moreover, abstinence. I just read an article from USA Today by Elizabeth Sandoval. I like how she opens the article, "I don't want to have sex. Actually, I do want to have sex, but with my husband. I don't have one yet." I know that as some may read her article and say that conservatives have been saying this for years; let's get passed that. Here is a self-proclaimed neo-feminist who is valuing sex and self. Great article.

Teeth, Spam and No Response

2005-08-19T10:27:00.000-07:00

Well, the blog about Barb has gone over really well. She had heard wisdom teeth extracted Tuesday, so I'm feeling better today, Friday. One more story and I'll stop beating this horse that died a few days ago. Barb and I watch the News Hour with Jim Lehrer. They had a ten minute segment on, I think, Ms. Sheehan, who is protesting in Crawford, Texas. Barb and I watched that segment and sat rather close together for about an hour. The next day she saw a news blurb and said, "Oh, Jim Lehrer, did a sement on that last night. You should've seen it!" I hope that this is not the same kind of recognition I will get in a care home when I'm elderly.

So, I pass the knowledge around to a few people that Barb had her teeth excavated and people read and get back to me and say, "That was funny . . ." Well, I checked my comments this morning and I see that I have the most comments ever for any of my post yet--six. Now, I'm a humble country boy and realize that is not a staggering number. So I click on the comments and it's spam!!!!!!! Only one of the comments was from a reader. The other comments are mass produced, overly generalized comments that spammers send to get your attention. Sickening and pride clubbing. That should be against the law, primarily because I don't like it. See, I'm a forthright person.

Well, Senator Thad Cochran's ofrfice has not phoned me back, so I'm still very disappointed that he did not see it fitting to apologize apologize for the lynchings of about 4,500 hundred negroes in America. below. Come on, Thad, just throw me some kind of bone. Tell me you were out of town, a relative was sick, you were on a fact finding mission in the Mississippi Delta, but don't just leave me hanging like those 4,500 innocent people. I don't expect an apologize--neither for your not returning my phone call nor for those loved ones of years past.

Wisdom and Teeth

2005-08-16T12:49:00.000-07:00

Well, Barb is on the couch watching the Lord of the Rings Trilogy. She had her wisdom teeth extracted today. Barb makes me laugh, so put gauze in her mouth, a bit of valium, novicane and her insistent upon the time that she was "in there" and, well, my ribs hurt. My only true comfort right now is that she probably will not remember most of the times I was bent double laughing at her goings on.

On the way out she was wheelchaired. As the receptionist told us good-bye Barb gave a hearty and rhythmic wave of the hand like the Queen. She seemed quite mesmerized and asked inquisitively several times, "Is that my lip? Is that my tongue?"

I'm learning to translate. After surgery she was very cold. Luckily I have some good verbal skills and since there is no such thing as a "fiscal blanket" I got her the thicker blanket. Oh, and I've also become the humblest of servants. I got her water to drink. She took a mouth full and the light maroon "oral Kool-Aid" came right out. She's learning to swallow again.

Well, I'm thinking about doing something special with those teeth of hers that are on a counter in the kitchen. Perhaps I should make her a necklace interspersing the teeth throughout like she had hunted down the crocodile herself. Matches is really interested in them. Maybe what Corte Madera needs is a cute pitbull with a necklace made of teeth. . . .

Several hours have passed now and Barb is up and running. I hear her cleaning the kitchen. She's heroic when it comes to pain. We've had a good time today. I read her a chapter out of the new Harry Potter book and even did some good inflection. And I just read to her what you just read. She has a good sense of humor. I've tried as much as possible to mess with her head. "Barb, do you remember telling the nurse you could see down her blouse?" And of course she is bright red with embarassment and says, "No! No, way. Oh, gosh!" Seriously, I've told her that three times today and I've gotten the same response. It's kinda like Guy Pierce in the movie Memento.

Thanks to Dr. Mason Lee. Heck, he's so good I'm thinking about having teeth extracted--wisdom or not. Well, I think I need to go tell Barb about something she said to the nurse.

The Greatest Day

2005-08-04T07:33:00.000-07:00

Today is our four-year anniversary. So to all of you nay sayers who said that Barb couldn't take two years of me, much less a lifetime, I want to say that you underestimated (or misunderestimated if you heard one interview of our President) the power of asprin, prayer and Barb's ability to turn a blind eye to many of my shananigans.

I went to my secret store early this morning to get a balloon and 25 roses. No, not two dozen--that's cliche. No, not just a dozen--I want to impress. Not three dozen--well, I'm not made of money, you know. And then a balloon. But which balloon? Now, I like using my creative side, especially early in the morning. That suits me best. When I wake up I'm ready to tackle the world. I'm high functioning as early as 0600 or oh six o'clock. I saw the perfect balloon--"You'll be missed." I would then buy said balloon, get a Sharpie marker and the balloon would read, "You'll be missed--please stay at least one more day." I also saw another that said, "Got a bug; need a hug?" I would get said balloon and said Sharpie and edit, "Got a bug; get a hug; and no deep kissing; I don't want to be sick also." Then I saw another balloon, "Over the hill." I wouldn't get said balloon or said Sharpie because that balloon, well, there's nothing funny about kidding a woman about her age.

So our house is decorated with roses--some in a huge vase, some in candle holders, one by the bath towels and one in teh q-tip dispenser.

Oh, thanks to Trina, worker of the beforementioned secret store. It was early and she was so helpful. I'll contact the owners of the secret store and give some detail as to how she was so helpful and made this so secretly easy.

It's been a really good six years. I love you, Barb.

P.S. Barb: I expect a reply on this post.

Jason

VBS--Very Busy Schedule

2005-08-02T13:53:00.000-07:00

This week is a great week thus far. I've been pushed beyond my relational comfort zones and limitations. My physical endurance has been tested and though at times it has been bent it has not been broken. My ability to run off of the raw processed bi-product of cane plants has been met with pit bull determination. I have run, I have walked, I have built things with my own hands, I have learned sign language, I have been gifted with a great leadership position with a great group of guys. We have come up with slogans to improve group morale and have traveled the far and remote places of the Serengeti.

This week I am a crew leader in Vacation Bible School and it's only Tuesday.

A Special Word

2005-08-01T14:01:00.000-07:00

Hey, thanks to Terrance for pushing me Sunday because I had yet to tell him I had a blog.

Thanks to Robin for letting mine be the first blog she's read.

Thanks to Bev for coming into town with Lilly and Conrad.

And thank you Mom. I love you so much and wish I could give you a huge birthday hug and kiss your forehead. You're a great momma, great cook, hard worker and great friend. I love you. Happy birthday.

Ten Years Already?

2005-07-28T09:06:00.000-07:00

Well, this weekend is my ten year high school reunion. Hard to believe that it's been a decade already. Sadly I will be in absentia from the ceremonies. I had already bought tickets to visit my family and the reunion was schedule for after I came back. I'll miss the group.

They put up with a lot of immaturity from me way back when. I'm grateful for that and am surprised that I was not banned from the reunion roster. Viva la graciousness!!!!!

The ten days in Mississippi went really well. Yes, it was hot--four days over 100 degrees. The heat was drippin' from the trees. I saw the nieces and nephew, played basketball, ate bbq, hung out with my little sis and my bigger bros. All in all it was a fine to do. My stated goal before going was to rest so much that I would get bed sores. I came mighty close to succeeding, but then, maybe that's a failure worth having.

Hit the ground running when I got back. It's good to go away. It's good to come back. It's just good to be alive.