1) Went to a church this morning called Generations in Nicholasville (which is where the WalMart is). It's very unique in that the entire focus of the church is to equip parents to raise their children in a biblically-oriented sort of way. Thus, for example, at the worship we went to this morning, all the adults and kids stayed together in the worship space (a gym at a local elementary school) for a service that could best be described as a kind of a low-budget variety show. Lots of singing and dancing (all the songs have motions and are led by a group of what looked to be college, HS, and MS students), funny skits, an animated short, and a quick lesson. Most of the people in attendance (and I am not making this up) sat on a mat in front of the stage. Anyhow, Aimee and the kids loved it, and I thought it was interesting enough to give it another week. A very creative, if different, experience.
2) Everyone who ever rooted for the Cleveland Browns since the days of Bernie Kosar knows what it means when Marty Schottenheimer leads a team into a playoff game. How can you be at home, with LT in the backfield, sport the best record in the NFL, and lose? Once again, just like the days of "The Drive" and "The Fumble", Marty managed to snag defeat from the jaws of victory. At least the people in San Diego have decent weather.
3) Never really said much more about Houston because, well, I left in a hurry, and frankly other things have been on my mind (the same goes for the BCS Championship Game... I'll get to that later). All in all it was a great experience filled with just about every different type and kind of church you could imagine. Hip Hop churches, big mega-churches, recovery churches, house churches, churches that were revived from the dead, post-emergent churches.... all that more. I missed the last day, which involved trips to the largest church in the world, a "re-start" church, and one of the more well-known emergent churches in the world.
My colleagues said that Joel Osteen was a great guy and that they enjoyed the Lakewood Church service (which doesn't surprise me... I used to watch his dad, Roy, years ago, always seemed to enjoy him, and Joel is exactly like him). They really enjoyed St. Johns UMC (the church the Beyonce Knowles familiy attends) which kind of re-started in a dead United Methodist church in Houston's Fifth Ward (which is apparently not an easy place to live) and is in many way's Lakewood Church's polar opposite. Chris Seay's emergent church was deemed to be very creative and breaking new ground in new directions. And that's just the stuff I missed...
and all to say that this is finest DMin program in the world. If you are thinking of starting one, apply next summer for the 2008-09 year. You will not be sorry.
4) Have become the third oldest guy on MySpace. You can check out my page if you wish. I've been a member for a couple of years now, slowly making changes when the mood struck me. Received some emails from some old youth-groupites from Goshen who wondered why I didn't have a blog. Instead of trying to woo them from the MySpace world, which is where the kids are, I just cut and paste this thing so now it has two homes. Am surprised at the number of people (many of whom I haven't seen in years) have found me. It's about ten times harder working the proper code into MySpace than Blogger, but the numbers of folks reading the blog over there seem to be worth the trouble. Besides, how are you going to connect with the next generation if you're afraid of their world? And if you've ever surfed around over there, you'll know those pages are in need of a positive Christian presence. It's pretty grizzly.
5) Want to rent, or better yet, buy a good movie? Then grab a copy of "Invisible Children", which is an amazingly tragic story about kids in Northern Uganda who leave their rural village homes to travel into a major city at night so they won't be kidnapped and forced to fight in a rebel army (the Lord's Resistance Army) against their will. Here's the trailer...
The leaders of the LRA have convinced their followers that they have been chosen by God to overthrow the Ugandan government as a means of ushering in some new Apostolic age. They use torture, group think, and drugs to turn children as young as eight into soldiers ready to kill for a cause. It is the worst example of how religious power can be perverted in such a way as to commission pure evil.
6) The three young men who made this rough cut film actually went to Africa looking to shoot footage to document the terror of Darfur. But when they discovered a story that involved more than 800,000 displaced people in "re-location camps", the abduction of more than 2000 children to fight as child soldiers in an army led by someone hiding behind God, and sheer incredulous reality that the story had never been told in the US, they changed their plans. Since then, they have been encouraging all people, especially teens, to organized screening of the rough cut of their film, and then figure out ways to raise money that is used to alleviate the suffering of the children who must walk at night from their homes to safe places in cities protected by soldiers out fear of being abducted.
The biggest event, to date, that Invisible Children INC. has undertaken was last year's "Global Night Commute", where thousands of people all over the USA walked from their homes into the interior of their city, to sleep for a night in the open air on the steps of their local court or statehouse, as a means of raising funds and drawing attention to the issues in Uganda.
The face of great poverty and violence, disciples of Jesus have no other choice but to confront evil in this world, as means of bringing peace. Next time you hear somebody say that Americans, particular American churches, shouldn't send money to help other people outside of the country cause we need to take care of "our own" first, remind them who Jesus says our neighbor is, and remember this next clip:
Woo.... I'm getting dizzy up on this soapbox.
7) This week a number of people from Shawnee UMC are headed to Haiti to build a number of small houses for families living a very poor, rural area in the northern part of the country. Shawnee likes to go to North Haiti, around CapHaitian, because most mission groups never get past Port Au Prince since it's the easiest city to access, although the need in further away from the center of power and commerce is acute. One of these travelers is Flora DeVoe, a lovely woman from our church, whose family raised enough money to build (I think) ten homes in honor of Flora's departed husband, Bud. Bud worked with Flora's dad building houses all over the Shawnee area (chances are if you live in the older area of the Pro Drive subdivision, you probably live in a Cardone Home). It should be an amazing week.
8) Have spent the last hour with Eli trying to keep his asleep until mom got home. Aimee just returned, raving about the movie "Dreamgirls", which I suspect lauds the virtues of sisterhood. She had a good time. I, on the other hand, have been laying next to a child wanting only to be nursed. There are somethings as a parent, you just aren't trained to do.
9) Now for the Bucks.... well, what can I say? They looked horrible. Never has a team looked so dominant over the course of the season and looked so terrible in a bowl game. Was it the 51 day lay-off. Was it Ted Ginn's injury, suffered while celebrating his early touchdown? Was Jim Tressel (gulp) simply outcoached? Was it the Heisman curse?
Well, personally, I think what really happened was that the Bucks won the game in a blowout, but Jeb Bush convinced his brother that for security reasons, the entire nation had to be brainwashed into believing that Florida, led by a quarterback who can't through the ball accurately more than 15 yards down the field, actually won the game. I know you think I'm crazy.....
but that's what they want you to believe.
10) For those who have been checking in on us, expressing sympathy and kindness at the loss of Aimee's mother, we once again want to thank you for your concern and love. Aimee was out tonight with the girls watching a movie that confirms how important sisterhood is. As cards and emails have literally poured in from so many of you gracious people, I am impressed with the way the folks here at the Beeson Commune have been caring for us, and particularly Aimee. They have been wonderful.
Sometimes, there just isn't a good way of saying thanks that really captures the gratitude you want to show. This is one of those times. So thank you, all of you, for your acts of grace,
Monday, January 15, 2007
Saturday, January 13, 2007
Typical
Have gotten hooked on "Mute Math", a quasi-Christian band from New Orleans. Here's a sample:
Just goes to show that everything old becomes new again. There are a lot of new bands that sound like bands from the 80's, but none more than Mute Math. The lead singer even plays a "key-tar" which supposedly the uncoolest instrument in the world.
Not in this blogger's world it isn't!!! When you grow up listening to Tears for Fears, Thompson Twins, and Howard Jones, you dig the key-tar.
Anyhow this song, "Typical", is pretty cool. Here are the lyrics...
Come on can't I dream for one day
Theres nothing that can't be done
But how long should it take somebody
Before they can be someone
Cause I know there's got to be another level
Somewhere closer to the other side
And I'm feeling like its now or never
Can I break the spell
of the typical
I've lived through my share of misfortune
And I've worked in the blazing sun
But how long should it take somebody
Before they can be someone.
Cause I know there's got to be another level
Somewhere closer to the other side
And I'm feeling like its now or never.
Can I break the spell
of the typical.
The typical
I'm just the typical
Can I break the spell of the typical
Because its dragging me down
I'd like to know about when
When does it all turn around
Might as well just re-name the song "Song for the American Mainline Christian Church". I say this because I've just read an email from my friend, Pauly, who's pastoring an urban mainline (Disciples of Christ) church in Chattanooga, Tennessee, which is emerging from the "typical", into the light of something new. His church, First Christian (DOC) of Chattanooga, was your typical downtown church (slowly dying, as the people who traveled to the suburbs to attend it grew older and declined in number), in the middle of a non-typical setting (it's located in the middle of the UT-Chat campus). The church, starting about four years ago, realized that it was slowly moving toward closing its doors, and faced with a pastoral change, called a consultant to figure out what it might do to avoid what appeared to be the inevitable. After forming a plan, which included hiring a staff person to work on campus, opening a coffee house in an old fellowship hall, raising hundreds of thousand of dollars to make all of this possible, and finding a younger pastor with a passion for working in an urban community who wasn't afraid of the cost of change.... the church went out to find that pastor.
For years my friend Pauly (who took me in from being homeless three days a week, 30 weeks a year, for two years while I was in seminary) had been slogging in small churches in mostly rural (he once lived in a place called "Ducktown", which was located next to "Turtletown", and was about three miles away from "The Edge Of The Worldtown") communities. He traded a very contented, somewhat slow paced position in West Virginia, for the hustle and bustle of a downtown church struggling to avoid closing, and find new life on the other side of change. For a couple of years now, as major changes took place, the church has been slowly dying unto itself, which has meant changes that have ticked off long-time members who had always knew their place and understood their role. He and his family have paid a price in the process.
Recently though, things have started coming together. As he's started finding more balance between the neverending work and a robust family (four kids... two boys, two girls, and no dull moments), the church is starting to hit its stride. The coffeehouse, which is a creative partnership between the church and a local business, is doing well, attracting groups (including the NAACP chapter on campus) who are now meeting in the church's building on a regular basis. The church has been experimenting with more contemporary forms of worship, and is about to start doing its own thing with its own flavor as another alternative service on Sunday morning. The regular service has been growing, as new people, looking for a church that cares about more than filling pews and building bigger buildings, have started migrating to FCC.
Now, the church has adopted the Brown Academy, which is a public school dedicated to educating at-risk school children (many of whom are currently homeless). 32 people from the congregation will now be tutoring these kids, filling up backpacks with food on Friday so the kids will eat during the weekend, and generally providing a cloak of prayer on children and teachers who need it the most. It's looking to transform the typical Wednesday night "eat a meal and go to a class church night" into a time to minister to the homeless in the Chattanooga community. The church, which has been running "Living the Questions" groups (which is kind of the liberal answer to the "Alpha" program written by the folks at Holy Trinity-Brompton in London) is starting new small groups and bible studies for people coming into the doors. A new campus pastor, Travis, is finding creative ways to network with young adults not only on UT-Chat campus, but also a sub-culture of young adults that I can assure you no other church is even coming close to reaching in that community.
In other words.... this ain't your "Typical" church.
People caring for one another
Praying incessantly
Worshipping God
Finding themselves in scriptures
so they can find Jesus living in their hearts
and among those who are in great need
so that Heaven might be revealed
That's the real deal, babe. That's not playing church. You can't believe the number of communities of faith struggling with all they are toward this kind of vision. Given the slow irrelevance of the Christian faith in western culture, they are pushing forward not a moment too soon. Considering we'll be closing churches at alarming rates as United Methodists over the next decade, maybe we need start singing the chorus that churches like FCC of Chattanooga are singing.
Cause I know there's got to be another level
Somewhere closer to the other side
And I'm feeling like its now or never.
Can I break the spell of the typical?
Just goes to show that everything old becomes new again. There are a lot of new bands that sound like bands from the 80's, but none more than Mute Math. The lead singer even plays a "key-tar" which supposedly the uncoolest instrument in the world.
Not in this blogger's world it isn't!!! When you grow up listening to Tears for Fears, Thompson Twins, and Howard Jones, you dig the key-tar.
Anyhow this song, "Typical", is pretty cool. Here are the lyrics...
Come on can't I dream for one day
Theres nothing that can't be done
But how long should it take somebody
Before they can be someone
Cause I know there's got to be another level
Somewhere closer to the other side
And I'm feeling like its now or never
Can I break the spell
of the typical
I've lived through my share of misfortune
And I've worked in the blazing sun
But how long should it take somebody
Before they can be someone.
Cause I know there's got to be another level
Somewhere closer to the other side
And I'm feeling like its now or never.
Can I break the spell
of the typical.
The typical
I'm just the typical
Can I break the spell of the typical
Because its dragging me down
I'd like to know about when
When does it all turn around
Might as well just re-name the song "Song for the American Mainline Christian Church". I say this because I've just read an email from my friend, Pauly, who's pastoring an urban mainline (Disciples of Christ) church in Chattanooga, Tennessee, which is emerging from the "typical", into the light of something new. His church, First Christian (DOC) of Chattanooga, was your typical downtown church (slowly dying, as the people who traveled to the suburbs to attend it grew older and declined in number), in the middle of a non-typical setting (it's located in the middle of the UT-Chat campus). The church, starting about four years ago, realized that it was slowly moving toward closing its doors, and faced with a pastoral change, called a consultant to figure out what it might do to avoid what appeared to be the inevitable. After forming a plan, which included hiring a staff person to work on campus, opening a coffee house in an old fellowship hall, raising hundreds of thousand of dollars to make all of this possible, and finding a younger pastor with a passion for working in an urban community who wasn't afraid of the cost of change.... the church went out to find that pastor.
For years my friend Pauly (who took me in from being homeless three days a week, 30 weeks a year, for two years while I was in seminary) had been slogging in small churches in mostly rural (he once lived in a place called "Ducktown", which was located next to "Turtletown", and was about three miles away from "The Edge Of The Worldtown") communities. He traded a very contented, somewhat slow paced position in West Virginia, for the hustle and bustle of a downtown church struggling to avoid closing, and find new life on the other side of change. For a couple of years now, as major changes took place, the church has been slowly dying unto itself, which has meant changes that have ticked off long-time members who had always knew their place and understood their role. He and his family have paid a price in the process.
Recently though, things have started coming together. As he's started finding more balance between the neverending work and a robust family (four kids... two boys, two girls, and no dull moments), the church is starting to hit its stride. The coffeehouse, which is a creative partnership between the church and a local business, is doing well, attracting groups (including the NAACP chapter on campus) who are now meeting in the church's building on a regular basis. The church has been experimenting with more contemporary forms of worship, and is about to start doing its own thing with its own flavor as another alternative service on Sunday morning. The regular service has been growing, as new people, looking for a church that cares about more than filling pews and building bigger buildings, have started migrating to FCC.
Now, the church has adopted the Brown Academy, which is a public school dedicated to educating at-risk school children (many of whom are currently homeless). 32 people from the congregation will now be tutoring these kids, filling up backpacks with food on Friday so the kids will eat during the weekend, and generally providing a cloak of prayer on children and teachers who need it the most. It's looking to transform the typical Wednesday night "eat a meal and go to a class church night" into a time to minister to the homeless in the Chattanooga community. The church, which has been running "Living the Questions" groups (which is kind of the liberal answer to the "Alpha" program written by the folks at Holy Trinity-Brompton in London) is starting new small groups and bible studies for people coming into the doors. A new campus pastor, Travis, is finding creative ways to network with young adults not only on UT-Chat campus, but also a sub-culture of young adults that I can assure you no other church is even coming close to reaching in that community.
In other words.... this ain't your "Typical" church.
People caring for one another
Praying incessantly
Worshipping God
Finding themselves in scriptures
so they can find Jesus living in their hearts
and among those who are in great need
so that Heaven might be revealed
That's the real deal, babe. That's not playing church. You can't believe the number of communities of faith struggling with all they are toward this kind of vision. Given the slow irrelevance of the Christian faith in western culture, they are pushing forward not a moment too soon. Considering we'll be closing churches at alarming rates as United Methodists over the next decade, maybe we need start singing the chorus that churches like FCC of Chattanooga are singing.
Cause I know there's got to be another level
Somewhere closer to the other side
And I'm feeling like its now or never.
Can I break the spell of the typical?
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Moments of Grace
Thanks to everyone who has been praying for us throughout the last week, and really since Aimee's mom was diagnosed with liver cancer last fall. You prayed not in vain. Healing and wholeness came in ways unexpected, but beautiful none-the-less. Please continue to keep the family, particularly Bryant, in you prayers.
Now, the day of visitation is over. The funeral service has been completed. A body has been laid to rest in a quiet cemetery in farmlands of Northwest Ohio, about a mile away from home and garden. The funeral dinner team accommodated us with much hospitality, and flowers arrangements have been divided up, and distributed. A little anxiety, some left over hard feelings, and plenty of sorrow still remain, but time has a way of taking care of most of these things. Now that we are back in Wilmore (other members of the family will be with Bryant until next week.... and then we'll start getting back home as much as we can to help ease the loneliness), and I am in the safe space that is my small study carrel (which, for some strange reason, I couldn't wait to get back to.... I'm just comfortable in my corner nook) I have been reflecting on the last few days, and seeing so many places where God showed up, raining grace upon us. Here are a few examples...
Now, the day of visitation is over. The funeral service has been completed. A body has been laid to rest in a quiet cemetery in farmlands of Northwest Ohio, about a mile away from home and garden. The funeral dinner team accommodated us with much hospitality, and flowers arrangements have been divided up, and distributed. A little anxiety, some left over hard feelings, and plenty of sorrow still remain, but time has a way of taking care of most of these things. Now that we are back in Wilmore (other members of the family will be with Bryant until next week.... and then we'll start getting back home as much as we can to help ease the loneliness), and I am in the safe space that is my small study carrel (which, for some strange reason, I couldn't wait to get back to.... I'm just comfortable in my corner nook) I have been reflecting on the last few days, and seeing so many places where God showed up, raining grace upon us. Here are a few examples...
- A mother and father bear the weight of a lost child for sixteen years. As the grandmother passes, the weight of their loss from long ago becomes real for me. Grace in the form of pain in my soul, beckoning me to pray for a nephew I never got to hold, parents who miss him, and new thinking about a children's garden in the Kingdom of Heaven.
- A cousin and his wife take on watching six grandchildren, including Hurricane Eli, who usually melts down away from his mother on a regular basis. The brave couple wear the boy out doing what he likes best, swimming, and then watch as he falls asleep. Grace in the form of a worn-out child and parents who can focus on offering comfort at the funeral home. CJ and Jill, If children are not in your future, then ample babysitting is (I never said grace couldn't end up being a two-edged sword). And if children are in your future, they will be blessed indeed. No pressure, one way or the other. Whatever you want... you know. Not trying to be "one of those people". We're in your corner, and all of that... OK, I'll shut up now.
- Countless stories at the viewing: A woman sent by her husband (training for a new job in Georgia) who had worked for Carol but left to take another job out of town because she encouraged him to keep striving to do better for himself. The couple who had taken Carol's beloved cockatoo, Sophie, stopping by to let us know that the bird was fine. Endless people from Shawnee UMC, including the entire staff, who had never met Carol who came to support us. Guys from the shop hugging Bryant. Master Gardeners with heavy hearts paying their respects. Tenants coming by to offer prayers. More stories than can be recounted in this space.
- We've never quite gotten over leaving Goshen, Indiana. The friends we made there were our family for five years. We found out how deep the bond goes when three of those families showed up to surprise us at the viewing, and one of the three stayed for the funeral the next day. I don't think I can write this without weeping.
- A brother comes to the viewing one day, and again with his wife to the funeral. He, in between about four law school classes, and she, taking one of her few days off of work. I love having a brother.
- A whole staff from Willow Lake Apartments just sitting at the funeral home, stunned that their boss is gone, and willing to do just about anything to help.
- After the most difficult funeral service I've ever done, a niece comes to give me a hug, and a brother-in-law makes sure to let me know that the words spoken were appropriate, putting to rest a re-occurring nightmare I've been having where my eulogy divides the family. Never have a hug and a few words brought so much peace so quickly.
- A good friend calls the evening after a funeral is over, and just offers words of encouragement.
- There are a bunch of other stories from home. Too many to mention, really. I hope those of you who were used by God in this way in our lives don't feel put out by me not mentioning you by name. Every handshake, hug, donation to the children's garden, flower arrangement sent, and time you spent being present mattered. You were just one more bit of grace we needed to get through each day. There's no way we can thank you.
- Today, we drove back to Wilmore. I have loads of work to do, and the kids need to get back into school. When we left today, Aimee and I were both grateful to be able to go somewhere to find a little normalcy, but upset that we had to leave her father who is still deep in grief. We drove the four-hour journey back to Asbury, pulled up to the townhouses, and realized once inside that our fellow BP families had stocked our fridge and cabinets, and that with Aimee's beloved organic food from "Wild Oats Grocery". I mean, do you know how thoughtful that was for her? To do something so nice that affirms her basic values (more weeping... I'm such a big baby) is just so, loving. This is the best DMin program in the world.
- Picked up the mail that had accumulated over the last week to find two nice surprises. First, a fellow blogger, The Thief (Rev. Brian Vinson of New Knoxville UMC), went snail mail on me, sending a lovely card out of the blogosphere and into the real world. Then, inside another package was the latest CD by The Peak Band, which is the worship band for the 11am service at The Life Center (West Campus of Goshen First UMC). "The Peak" was a service Steve Clouse, music director at First UMC, and I started to try to reach unchurched 20-somethings. In many ways the service was a colossal success, and in other ways (all the numerical ones) it was a failure. But the one lasting legacy of the service has been The Peak Band, which is note for note, one of the finest praise bands in the country. The CD is made up entirely of songs written by the band, and Steve enclosed a short synopsis of the story behind each song for me. I like the whole album, but one of the tracks, "I Lift My Eyes To The Hills", which is based on Psalm 121, which is my favorite Psalm, just soars. I know the CD was sent to lift our spirits, and I can safely say, "Mission Accomplished".
- Finally, I decided after we had unpacked, to head down to my carrel to get acclimated to what was coming up in the next week. The walk is not more than a half-mile, but I kept bumping into my fellow classmates who each stopped to offer a handshake, a hug, a word of encouragement, and a listening ear. It's the first time a half-mile took me 40 minutes to complete. Absolutely overwhelming.
And this friends is, I think, the way we make it through the dark days of life. As we walk in the shadows cast down in the valley of death, we find God in a million places, many of them strange and unexpected, encouraging us to take another step toward the next mountaintop. We will take all these moments, all these little sacrifices made for us as friends, gather them up, and treasure them in our hearts. They mean more than this mediocre blogger can say.
Oh man... more tears, shed out in the rain of the Lord.
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Carol Allen, The Nurse, and the Holy Spirit
Sunday afternoon at 4pm, Aimee's mom, Carol Allen, went to be with the Lord. After a struggle with liver cancer, we watched her condition deteriorate rapidly, literally going from talking about trying experimental forms of cancer treatment to refusing a ventilator in less than a day. Her viewing will be at the Shawnee Chapel of Chiles Funeral Home from 2 to 4pm and 6 to 8pm Tuesday, and funeral service itself will be at Shawnee UMC at 11am on Wednesday.
Today we picked out a casket, planned a funeral service, and made arrangements for a grave. It was a very, very hard day.
Carol was only 65 years old. As late at mid-December she was talking about the promotion the property company she worked for, Pedcor Properties of Indianapolis, was likely to give her after she beat this disease. I think her job as the manager of Willow Lake Apartments was one of the reasons that the last ten years were some of the happiest and most gratifying of her life. You see, until this last job, she had been through countless others. So many that the last few times she was hired somewhere, each family member used to guess how long she'd last before she'd quit and go looking for something else. The winner, who was the person who guessed the longest without going over (ala the Price is Right) would be the winner. I was the winner for what would be her last job, which I gave nine months. I only missed it by about ten years. At Willow Lake she found her niche, and she embraced the opportunity.
As her career finally started to gain some momentum, she also began investing herself in a kind of public service that for her, made sense. When the Master Gardners of Allen County decided to do a Children's Garden at the Allen County Museum, she threw herself into the project. The opportunity gave her the chance to use her creativity and love for gardening (she had been raising her own plants in a greenhouse Bryant, her husband, had built for her for many years) to do something special for the community, manifesting itself in truly a unique and charming oasis in the middle of our town. Pretty much every Tuesday night in decent weather you'd see her down there, taking care of odds and ends, making sure the place her grandkids called "Grandma's Garden" was ready to invite children into it's magic.
It was also in the last ten year that she found her dream home: an old farmhouse sitting on almost two acres of land in the middle of nowhere. A home with plenty of places to put antiques inside, and plenty to places to dig in the dirt outside, all without a neighbor in sight. It was the first time in all the years I'd known her that the house she owned wasn't perpetually for sale. She worked hard to make the place nice, and even more importantly, a little paradise for her grandchildren, complete with a swingset, basketball hoop, bicycles to ride in the driveway, and a slip-n-slide, all so that they'd bug their parents to take them to grandma's house. She was crazy like a fox.
Her life had often been hard, but somehow in the midst of the sacrifices made over time, happiness in abundance came to her in her final years. And I know that between the pending promotion, and our return full-time to Lima next spring (she made me promise we'd come back last summer, and you should have seen the smile when my appointment to Shawnee was announced in early December - I'll never forget it), that the future, in her eyes looked plenty bright. She was looking forward to going with Aimee to find us a house in the spring, excited that some of her grandkids were near-by, and excited that we'd be available to take care of the pets at their house when they left to vist family in places warmer in the winter, and cooler in the summer. She was truly living out her golden years.
I guess that's why it makes her passing so hard to swallow. A person taken at the height of blessing.
I find comfort in knowing that Carol, in this life, had found real peace. Though her life came to an abrupt end, she was so content and happy she wanted to fight death with all that she was until her final hour. I don't know if you can ask for more than a life so good that you literally put every drop of energy into fighting for it until it is gone. That's a life that was worth living, and that is worth celebrating.
And the lives she touched.... there have been so many good stories.
One of my favorite stories I witnessed at 3am on Sunday morning. Eleven hours earlier, at 4pm on Saturday, when Aimee called with the news Carol had 12 to 24 hours to live, I just kind of locked in, and found my way from Houston, Texas to her hospital bedroom by midnight that night. It was important for me to be there. Her husband, Bryant, refused to leave her side. His other kids were on the road frantically trying to get home to say goodbye to their mother. And my wife had to be home that night to be with our youngest, Eli, who just doesn't sleep very well without her. I had to stand-in for Aimee, and as the only pastor in the family, do what I could to ease the fear in that room. I just had to.
Anyhow, it's 3am, Aimee's aunt (who was with us) had fallen to sleep, Bryant was comforting his dying wife in moments she had left, and I had been praying fervently, inviting the Holy Spirit into the room and into our midst - an invitation that, for me, meant a lot of different things. It meant bringing Aimee's brother and sister, who that moment were driving as fast as they dared in the middle of the night to us safely. It meant sustaining the night staff on the floor so that they could continue to ease Carol's pain and the mental burden of those her loved through the provision of fine care. And, to be honest, it meant the actual presence of God in our midst, hanging about us, touching hearts.
"Come Holy Spirit. You are welcome here. I ask in the name of Jesus that Father, that you come to us for you are the author of grace and mercy. You are the God who never breaks a promise, the one who keeps his covenant with his people, and we praise your holy and righteous name. Come so that when this woman decides not to keep you at arms length any longer, she will welcome your embrace, ushering her peacefully into the garden of your heavenly home. Come and ease the burden of her husband who has difficulty believing in that which cannot be seen. Come Holy Spirit. You are welcome here."
I'm drifting between this prayer, occasionally trying to bring a smile to Bryant's face, and catching a couple of winks when I can, when at 3am a nurse from the hospital enters the room. We had never seen her before.
"How is Carol?" she asked.
"Not well. Not well at all. It's only a matter of time." replied my father-in-law.
The nurse began to shed a few tears, went over to take Carol's hand, and kissed her on her forehead. She, whom we did not know, had taken her break to come and visit the woman who worked for her landlord.
"My husband and I live at Willow Lake. Carol's done such a great job for us. I knew she had been sick, but I had no idea she was this bad."
Then, she looks at my father-in-law. "Are you a believer?"
Bryant, who once told me he couldn't believe in that which he could not see replied, "Yes I am."
"Good. Well, then, can I pray for you?"
He nodded yes, and then the most amazing thing happened. She got down on her knees and prayed the most simple, most beautiful prayer, praising God for his goodness, expressing appreciation and love for her landlord (how often does that happen?), and she concluded with these words:
"And finally, come Lord Jesus, take the hand of Carol, and lead her into your arms and into a place without any more pain or suffering. We hate to let her go, but we take comfort that she will now fall into your merciful arms. Amen."
Tears spilt from my aunt, who had wakened to witness the scene. A look of peace appeared, if ever for so briefly, on Bryant's face. And the Holy Spirit poured into the room. Just poured into the room. Ushering eventually all of her family into that room, where Carol quit fighting and started embracing, and we all recounted other promises of God, like all of us being together again in His house for eternity... where now the flowers of heaven are being tended with hands so beautiful their service inspired prayers during a break at 3 in the morning.
Powerful.
And one more word for my Beeson brothers and sisters. It is true that our family's loss puts the blowout of the Bucks into perspective tonight. But I want you to know this... I have been baiting you all, all year and I expect you to give it back to me. Don't be "Christians" about the BCS Championship game.... do what I've been goading you into doing anyway. It'll help life feel closer to normal. Rip me to pieces and make me cringe with laughter, cause I'll take all the laughter I can get right now. Oh... and God Bless you all for being in our lives this year.
And, that dear friend in the blogosphere, goes for you too.
Today we picked out a casket, planned a funeral service, and made arrangements for a grave. It was a very, very hard day.
Carol was only 65 years old. As late at mid-December she was talking about the promotion the property company she worked for, Pedcor Properties of Indianapolis, was likely to give her after she beat this disease. I think her job as the manager of Willow Lake Apartments was one of the reasons that the last ten years were some of the happiest and most gratifying of her life. You see, until this last job, she had been through countless others. So many that the last few times she was hired somewhere, each family member used to guess how long she'd last before she'd quit and go looking for something else. The winner, who was the person who guessed the longest without going over (ala the Price is Right) would be the winner. I was the winner for what would be her last job, which I gave nine months. I only missed it by about ten years. At Willow Lake she found her niche, and she embraced the opportunity.
As her career finally started to gain some momentum, she also began investing herself in a kind of public service that for her, made sense. When the Master Gardners of Allen County decided to do a Children's Garden at the Allen County Museum, she threw herself into the project. The opportunity gave her the chance to use her creativity and love for gardening (she had been raising her own plants in a greenhouse Bryant, her husband, had built for her for many years) to do something special for the community, manifesting itself in truly a unique and charming oasis in the middle of our town. Pretty much every Tuesday night in decent weather you'd see her down there, taking care of odds and ends, making sure the place her grandkids called "Grandma's Garden" was ready to invite children into it's magic.
It was also in the last ten year that she found her dream home: an old farmhouse sitting on almost two acres of land in the middle of nowhere. A home with plenty of places to put antiques inside, and plenty to places to dig in the dirt outside, all without a neighbor in sight. It was the first time in all the years I'd known her that the house she owned wasn't perpetually for sale. She worked hard to make the place nice, and even more importantly, a little paradise for her grandchildren, complete with a swingset, basketball hoop, bicycles to ride in the driveway, and a slip-n-slide, all so that they'd bug their parents to take them to grandma's house. She was crazy like a fox.
Her life had often been hard, but somehow in the midst of the sacrifices made over time, happiness in abundance came to her in her final years. And I know that between the pending promotion, and our return full-time to Lima next spring (she made me promise we'd come back last summer, and you should have seen the smile when my appointment to Shawnee was announced in early December - I'll never forget it), that the future, in her eyes looked plenty bright. She was looking forward to going with Aimee to find us a house in the spring, excited that some of her grandkids were near-by, and excited that we'd be available to take care of the pets at their house when they left to vist family in places warmer in the winter, and cooler in the summer. She was truly living out her golden years.
I guess that's why it makes her passing so hard to swallow. A person taken at the height of blessing.
I find comfort in knowing that Carol, in this life, had found real peace. Though her life came to an abrupt end, she was so content and happy she wanted to fight death with all that she was until her final hour. I don't know if you can ask for more than a life so good that you literally put every drop of energy into fighting for it until it is gone. That's a life that was worth living, and that is worth celebrating.
And the lives she touched.... there have been so many good stories.
One of my favorite stories I witnessed at 3am on Sunday morning. Eleven hours earlier, at 4pm on Saturday, when Aimee called with the news Carol had 12 to 24 hours to live, I just kind of locked in, and found my way from Houston, Texas to her hospital bedroom by midnight that night. It was important for me to be there. Her husband, Bryant, refused to leave her side. His other kids were on the road frantically trying to get home to say goodbye to their mother. And my wife had to be home that night to be with our youngest, Eli, who just doesn't sleep very well without her. I had to stand-in for Aimee, and as the only pastor in the family, do what I could to ease the fear in that room. I just had to.
Anyhow, it's 3am, Aimee's aunt (who was with us) had fallen to sleep, Bryant was comforting his dying wife in moments she had left, and I had been praying fervently, inviting the Holy Spirit into the room and into our midst - an invitation that, for me, meant a lot of different things. It meant bringing Aimee's brother and sister, who that moment were driving as fast as they dared in the middle of the night to us safely. It meant sustaining the night staff on the floor so that they could continue to ease Carol's pain and the mental burden of those her loved through the provision of fine care. And, to be honest, it meant the actual presence of God in our midst, hanging about us, touching hearts.
"Come Holy Spirit. You are welcome here. I ask in the name of Jesus that Father, that you come to us for you are the author of grace and mercy. You are the God who never breaks a promise, the one who keeps his covenant with his people, and we praise your holy and righteous name. Come so that when this woman decides not to keep you at arms length any longer, she will welcome your embrace, ushering her peacefully into the garden of your heavenly home. Come and ease the burden of her husband who has difficulty believing in that which cannot be seen. Come Holy Spirit. You are welcome here."
I'm drifting between this prayer, occasionally trying to bring a smile to Bryant's face, and catching a couple of winks when I can, when at 3am a nurse from the hospital enters the room. We had never seen her before.
"How is Carol?" she asked.
"Not well. Not well at all. It's only a matter of time." replied my father-in-law.
The nurse began to shed a few tears, went over to take Carol's hand, and kissed her on her forehead. She, whom we did not know, had taken her break to come and visit the woman who worked for her landlord.
"My husband and I live at Willow Lake. Carol's done such a great job for us. I knew she had been sick, but I had no idea she was this bad."
Then, she looks at my father-in-law. "Are you a believer?"
Bryant, who once told me he couldn't believe in that which he could not see replied, "Yes I am."
"Good. Well, then, can I pray for you?"
He nodded yes, and then the most amazing thing happened. She got down on her knees and prayed the most simple, most beautiful prayer, praising God for his goodness, expressing appreciation and love for her landlord (how often does that happen?), and she concluded with these words:
"And finally, come Lord Jesus, take the hand of Carol, and lead her into your arms and into a place without any more pain or suffering. We hate to let her go, but we take comfort that she will now fall into your merciful arms. Amen."
Tears spilt from my aunt, who had wakened to witness the scene. A look of peace appeared, if ever for so briefly, on Bryant's face. And the Holy Spirit poured into the room. Just poured into the room. Ushering eventually all of her family into that room, where Carol quit fighting and started embracing, and we all recounted other promises of God, like all of us being together again in His house for eternity... where now the flowers of heaven are being tended with hands so beautiful their service inspired prayers during a break at 3 in the morning.
Powerful.
And one more word for my Beeson brothers and sisters. It is true that our family's loss puts the blowout of the Bucks into perspective tonight. But I want you to know this... I have been baiting you all, all year and I expect you to give it back to me. Don't be "Christians" about the BCS Championship game.... do what I've been goading you into doing anyway. It'll help life feel closer to normal. Rip me to pieces and make me cringe with laughter, cause I'll take all the laughter I can get right now. Oh... and God Bless you all for being in our lives this year.
And, that dear friend in the blogosphere, goes for you too.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
Quick Hits In Houston
Here's the deal... I'm staying with a very nice couple in the ritziest area of Houston (W's dad lives around here somewhere, as does Roger Clemens) and even though they're retired (or in the case of Art, failing at retirement because he's still looking for oil as a geologist), they have broadband internet here in Art's home office. But it's late, and I don't know if the man is waiting up for me or not, so here are a few quick hits, with longer posts later, about what's going on here during our Beeson Pastor trip to Houston.
Everything in Houston is big. Everything. The town is built entirely on entrepreneurial spirit and a belief that if a little of something is good, then a lot of that thing would be better. Same thing goes for churches. Get this.... we've visited two different UM churches, and talked with 7 more UM-pastors who have all planted churches in this area in the last ten years or less. Of the nine churches represented, 6 would be large enough to be in the Top Ten in size in UM-churches in Ohio. The smallest averaged about 900 a Sunday, and the biggest over 2400. All churches that are brand spanking new, where the pastors don't think they've hit their stride yet, and they dwarf in size and scope just about every church in my conference. Wow.
We met Ed Young today. He's the pastor of the Second Baptist Church of Houston, a church with five sites in the area that average about 31,000 people in worship each Sunday. He's a fascinating guy, and a real piece of work. He's amazing in about a thousand different ways, and despite the image of Southern Baptist preachers that some of us uppity Methodist pastors have, he's is no fool. He knows his stuff, and I suspect the 700 trained Bible teachers (you don't teach the Bible at Ed's church unless you've been formally trained) receive a more rigorous education than most seminary grads do (at least in Bible and theology). But of the many things I learned about him in an hour, the thing I'll remember the most is how competitive he is... which is a perfect fit for entrepreneurial Houston. How competitive could a preacher be? Here are a couple of examples....
First, he insinuated in our time with us that were churches in this community that, by definition of the Bible, weren't really churches. He didn't really say much more than that, but a member of our body who's in the know claims that Ed last year mentioned a particular church here in the city by name, and largely because they've grown larger than Second Baptist. Let's just say Ed doesn't mind serving a church named "second", but doesn't want to be second in the two areas he believes all churches need to count: nickles and noses (his words... not mine).
Second, Ed spent some time talking about why the church went multi-site, and his reasoning was that there were just areas of Houston that were under-evangelized. Guess where one of these areas are? The part of the city where Ed found it necessary to plant a site that is directly across the street from the First Baptist Church. And I mean, directly across the street.
The thing I learned? If you're really good with a paddle, don't play Ed Young in a game of ping pong. You will be there until you finally let him win a game. And then, he will devote every waking hour to practicing ping pong, fly to wherever you are, and beat you repeatedly while calling your mama names. I really believe he'd do this. And don't get me wrong... I dig Ed Young. I wish all of us knew the Bible, doctrine, theology, and administration like he does. If we did, the church would be growing... quickly. He just hates to lose... he REALLY hates to lose.
We hung out with Kirby John Caldwell today. He's the pastor of Windsor Village UMC, the biggest church in the United Methodist Church which is located in one of the most economically deprived parts of Houston. Another amazing guy. Feels like each of us were put on this earth to add value to our community. Kirby John has done this in a multitude of ways. Now, his church is developing a huge parcel of property, and when I say "developing", I mean that they are building over 200 houses, a couple of stripmalls, a few schools, a functioning community development center that provides health care of all kinds and a plethora of other services too numerous to mention, and a new church building where 190,000 square feet are being built in the first of three phases. George Bush himself came to speak to the church because the housing development is the largest ever to be developed by a non-profit.
Did I happen to mention that everything in Houston is big?
I also went to UM church in Clearlake, which is one of the hundreds villages and or subdivisions in Houston, where we heard a pastor talk about what it was like to follow another pastor who had been de-frocked for a moral failure. As time passes by, I'm listening to this guy, and I'm thinking, "I've seen him before", which is crazy cause I've only been to Texas twice in my life, but I can't shake this nagging feeling that I've met him before. So I'm looking, and thinking, and looking, and thinking, and BAM... it hits me. About 12 or 13 years ago, I drove to Tyler, Texas with my wife to co-conduct a wedding for my friend Steve Skeels. I ended up doing it with a young guy who was the singles pastor at Marvin Memorial UMC of Tyler, and I remember him asking about the robe I was wearing, because I was like 24, and it had doctoral stripes on the sleeves (I had borrowed it from Joseph cause the bride asked me to wear a white robe.). All this to say the guy making the presentation, was that pastor. It only took me 2 hours to figure out.
Yes sir... I am swimming in the shallow end of the gene pool.
And finally, of all the stuff I heard today, and I heard some amazing stuff, the story I heard that touched me the most, was that of Becca Wilson, a wife of one of our Beeson Pastors. Becca earned a degree from Florida State University in Child Life Medical Specialist (this is my best guess at the title, which I can't quite remember). What is that? She counsels children who are in the hospital and facing either some form of surgery (major or minor) or treatment of a terminal disease. For 4 1/2 years at hospital in Pittsburgh, she worked with kids who were receiveing cancer treatment. She worked with them, and their parents... sometimes until the cancer was beaten into remission, and sometimes until the child died.
I asked her, how in the world a person gets into this kind of work. Why they would even want to get into this line of work? She explained that as a teenager, she had been invited to pray for a child with cancer, who after all the prayers had been prayed, still passed away. She said that initially it made her angry at God, effecting her in ways she could never imagine. But that as she thought about this, more and more, over more than a year, she began to wonder what God thought about all of this, and she reached the startling conclusion that in broken world where we are given the freedom to experience all that life has to offer, that God was every much as bit as grieved as the parents and loved ones who lost their baby. And further, she began to realize that in these situations the presence of God was exceptionally real, and that she could see the face of Jesus on every child she counseled. And even further, now as a UM-pastor's wife, how excited she was that she could use what she had learned, and her experience, in the context of ministry in the local church.
Have you ever felt like you were in the presence of someone that just really knew God? I've met lots of people, and they know God.... no questions asked. But Becca Wilson is right there with them... a woman who dreams of doing ministry with parents who have sick kids. If that ain't the Gospel of Jesus Christ, then I don't know what is.
All in all, a fabulous experience and every bit as much because of my colleagues and their amazing families, as to the "successful pastors" we meet. If to much is given, much is expected, then I have no idea the scope of what God is expecting of me at the end of this year for I am being given the greatest riches of the universe.
And now one quick personal note....
Without getting too specific, please pray for Aimee's mom, Carol Allen, her dad, Bryant, and the whole family who loves her. We are not receiving encouraging news from home... so much so that Aimee decided to return to Lima to be with her parents tomorrow. We need your prayers.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
More Smacktalkin'
Have you ever detested a book so much that you wished it would spontaneously combust? Such is my relationship with "Models for Scripture" by John Goldingay, which over 470 pages torturously attempts to understand the role of history and fictional narrative in the Bible. Two sentences:
The Bible is factual history smattered with a bit re-imagination of events and dialogue to flesh out the nature of God and humanity's interaction over time. Timewise, events closest to us in history tend to me more trustworthy as factual than events further back in history.
and we could be on to bigger and better things. As soon as I finish this bad boy, I'm on to "Models for Scriptural Interpretation" by John Goldingay. I am now going to light myself on fire.
Anyhow, I put down the sure-fire cure for insomnia, happened over to Aaron Wymer's blog and saw some of smack he was laying down on next week's big game (NOTE TO JULIET, OUR READER FROM LONDON: I think I seriously owe you big for putting up with the continued torture of American College Football posts. Many apologies.) Found myself sitting through some horribly conceived Apple rip-off commercials featuring a guy from Florida and a guy from OSU, and some bogus ranking of state schools stating that Florida is the 2nd rated academic state school in the country. R - I - G - H - T! I'm sure in between all-night keg parties and downloading term papers the night before they're due, there's serious studying going on down there. Isn't this school that features a football game called the "world's largest cocktail party" and whose biggest claim to fame is the invention of Gatorade?
Anyhow, here's an example of the pseudo-Apple commercial:
And here's an example of what's in store for Florida.
Hey Aaron, at least you'll be able to enjoy one of the bands during the halftime show.
One last big game for Troy Smith, the 2006 Heisman Winner
And let's just leave the last word to the experts, shall we...
The Bible is factual history smattered with a bit re-imagination of events and dialogue to flesh out the nature of God and humanity's interaction over time. Timewise, events closest to us in history tend to me more trustworthy as factual than events further back in history.
and we could be on to bigger and better things. As soon as I finish this bad boy, I'm on to "Models for Scriptural Interpretation" by John Goldingay. I am now going to light myself on fire.
Anyhow, I put down the sure-fire cure for insomnia, happened over to Aaron Wymer's blog and saw some of smack he was laying down on next week's big game (NOTE TO JULIET, OUR READER FROM LONDON: I think I seriously owe you big for putting up with the continued torture of American College Football posts. Many apologies.) Found myself sitting through some horribly conceived Apple rip-off commercials featuring a guy from Florida and a guy from OSU, and some bogus ranking of state schools stating that Florida is the 2nd rated academic state school in the country. R - I - G - H - T! I'm sure in between all-night keg parties and downloading term papers the night before they're due, there's serious studying going on down there. Isn't this school that features a football game called the "world's largest cocktail party" and whose biggest claim to fame is the invention of Gatorade?
Anyhow, here's an example of the pseudo-Apple commercial:
And here's an example of what's in store for Florida.
Hey Aaron, at least you'll be able to enjoy one of the bands during the halftime show.
One last big game for Troy Smith, the 2006 Heisman Winner
And let's just leave the last word to the experts, shall we...
Monday, January 01, 2007
Ten Things I Think I Think....
1) Aaron Wymer is putting on the screws. The Gator grad has suggested, as a response to my willingness to wear blue and orange on January 9th if the Bucks lost in the BCS Championship, that a better wager would be the loser wearing the colors of his team's arch-rival. Thus, if Florida loses, then Aaron wears a Florida State shirt, and if OSU loses I'd have to put on the dreaded maize and blue.
Ouch!
You're on Aaron Wymer, oh evil genius!
2) Note to everyone at Shawnee UMC... I can promise that we'll never try to shoehorn in an 11am service crowd in the Sanctuary again. I mean 9am was packed... 11am was just ridiculous. Let me say this, if you had told me 15 years ago that our Sanctuary wouldn't be big enough to host the congregation on the Sunday after Christmas, I'd have laughed heartily. I'm not laughing anymore. We really are growing.
3) A week or so ago, me and my big mouth, or I guess fingers, in response to the news that Grace UMC had extended an invitation to merge with Trinity UMC, wondered aloud about the future of Methodism in our nation's urban core. Sunday morning I had an extended conversation with a respected member of our church community who wondered too about the future of Grace, and the future of Methodism in urban communities. Particularly after watching "The Pursuit of Happyness" with Aimee (on a rare date) last week, and seeing what Glide Memorial UMC means to urban San Francisco, I can't get this out of my head... and I wonder what the Holy Spirit might be saying to me right now, as I think about future of Shawnee.
Why can't a suburban church partner with an urban one to do something new?
4) Spent last night eating Hickory Farms with Aimee watching "Uncle Buck" (a gift from her to me this Christmas). What an enjoyable evening!!! I love spending New Years at home with my wife and family... especially if the younger members of said family are asleep by 9pm. And I've seen Uncle Buck so many times that I start laughing before the funny parts (which are numerous) of the movie (which Aimee loves... I do the same thing with "Planes, Trains, and Automobiles"). I can't think of a better way to close out 2006... Aimee and I together, watching a movie, with our boys safe and sound asleep, all snug in their beds.
As an aside, I miss you John Candy. You make me laugh.
5) Is it true? Will I actually spend all New Years Day reading and writing instead of watching football? Afraid so. Such is the academic weight of the coming days.
6) Here are some my personal highlights of 2006
a. Coaching Max's basketball team, which culminated in him and I taking in a Cavs game last spring. I can't believe how fast my oldest son is growing up, and what a great person he is becoming.
b. Grocery shopping with Xavier on Fridays. Another amazing boy growing up right before my eyes. The child who never said a word until he was two, now non-stop talks, making up stories, singing songs, and telling jokes (mostly about poop). Nobody can get us laughing harder.
c. Eli deciding that Daddy, while not as indispensable as Mommy, was still pretty important.
d. Our epic family journey this past fall which found us in five different towns (Indy, Chicago, Goshen, Lima, Wilmore) in five different days. We swam and ate pizza in Indy (the boys still thing the Hampton Inn we stayed at was the fanciest place they've been in their lives), maxed out freebie visits to museums in Chicago (while yours truly got to officiate one of the funnest wedding ceremonies of his life.. congrats again CJ and Jill!), hung out with the Walters, rode all the rides at Shawnee's Fall Fest (I engineered the train again, making me a local celebrity with kindergartners), and collapsed back in Wilmore. An unbelievably fun weekend.
e. Being named the successor pastor to Joseph at Shawnee. I remember always saying, given how charismatic he is and the job he did at this church, "God bless the sucker who follows Joe Bishman at Shawnee." Who'd have thunk I would be the sucker?
f. I can't say upon arriving that I really wanted to be on Asbury's campus when I arrived in July. I've never been one who wanted to put his life "on hold", which is what withdrawing a year from the local church seemed like for me. But professionally, doing Beeson is turning out to be one of the most important things I've ever done. I can't explain how it's changing me, but it is. And besides, I'm so honored to be in the same class with Scott, Gordon, Alicia, Trav, Kent, Travis, Jason, Matt, Jim, Aaron, and Nolan I can't put into words. What a blessing!!!
g. I haven't absorbed more in a shorter period of time probably since I was a little boy, than I did while walking the streets of London. Experiencing the End of Christendom, exposure to a new kind of charismatic ministry, worshipping with hundreds of ex-pat Africans who being led in worship by a Swedish gospel choir, sitting where C.S. Lewis sat, standing where John Wesley stood, spending a day on the Tubes alone, recognizing the effect of post-modernism while being wowed during "Wicked", and the dozens of emails I've received from London since I shared my experience at Holy Trinity- Brompton made this such a great, great experience. I just can't tell you.
h. Getting my motorcycle license. I don't know how I'll be able to buy a bike without bankrupting us, but I will... somehow. Thank you Sue Dickerson for letting me practice on your ride.
i. Every moment I spent watching the OSU-Michigan game with my folks, my brother and his lovely wife, and the boys. Am learning how these moments become more fleeting over time.
j. Christmas Eve Eve with my in-laws. I'm not blowing smoke here.... it was my favorite Christmas memory this year.
7) Least favorite memories of 2006
a. My mother-in-law being diagnosed with liver cancer. Please keep praying for her as she fights this disease.
b. Reading and writing. Lots of it. Loads of it. More than I'll do the rest of my life.
c. All the people we're missing by not living in Lima the last six months. Our family, our friends, and particularly Sunday nights with the Great One in the nest. I can't get those missed moments back.
d. Every moment I took my wife for granted. She's a Hall-of-Fame Mom, and the best partner a person could ever have. Sometimes living with me just isn't very fun.
e. Any days the boys were sick.... especially with the stomach flu.
f. Leaving our home on Oak Terrace. No more playhouse. No more 100" screen theatre. No more great neighbors. No more cul-de-sac where the boys could ride their bikes without worry. No more 20+ shady trees. Probably our peak as far as houses go. Thanks Rob for letting us live there!
8) Talked to my buddy Pauly last night while on the road from Lima to Wilmore. Sounds to me like he's hitting his stride as a pastor at FCC of Chattanooga. The full-service coffeehouse is up and running, and is being used by countless groups (most amazingly, the NAACP on UT-Chattanooga's campus). The church is partnering with a local charter school that serves impoverished families and looking to do the same with the local homeless coalition. A new contemporary service is starting this spring. Worship attendance is growing. And most importantly, as far as I'm concerned, my buddy has found his calling. It's like I told his people the Sunday he was installed as a pastor... ministry is slow death. A dying to what we have been, which is painful. But you can't beat the resurrection on the other side. Great job, Pauly at leading a downtown mainline church that is finding new life and purpose.
9) Listened to the Bengals collapse last night on the radio. Talk about a modern-day parable... what team had higher expectations and more talent that the Bengals this year? Nine guys getting arrested for a multitude of stupid reasons just took the wind out of their sails. But hey... would have ever thought at any time in the 1990's that the Bengals would go 8-8 in a season, and that it would be disappointing? I get the feeling that this was one of those "one step back" years, where one more important lesson had to be learned before the team could make the leap to "perennial winner". In this case the lesson was "character counts" (a lesson the guys who ran the Portland Jailblaizers could have explained well). Here's hoping the offseason will reflect the team having learned the lesson.
10) Don't look for any posts until later in the week when our BP class hangs out in Houston (we fly out in a couple of days). And even then, I don't know if the family I'll be staying with (no hotels this time... instead we'll be with families from Clearlake UMC) will have wireless Internet. But you can bet your sweet bippy I'll be blogging about the experience... especially since someone decided we'd benefit from a visit to Joel Osteen's church. I'm not sure what we're supposed to learn from a guy who tells people that God will give them everything they want in this life if only they believe... but I'm sure I'll learn something!
Until then, hope you have a great New Year!
Ouch!
You're on Aaron Wymer, oh evil genius!
2) Note to everyone at Shawnee UMC... I can promise that we'll never try to shoehorn in an 11am service crowd in the Sanctuary again. I mean 9am was packed... 11am was just ridiculous. Let me say this, if you had told me 15 years ago that our Sanctuary wouldn't be big enough to host the congregation on the Sunday after Christmas, I'd have laughed heartily. I'm not laughing anymore. We really are growing.
3) A week or so ago, me and my big mouth, or I guess fingers, in response to the news that Grace UMC had extended an invitation to merge with Trinity UMC, wondered aloud about the future of Methodism in our nation's urban core. Sunday morning I had an extended conversation with a respected member of our church community who wondered too about the future of Grace, and the future of Methodism in urban communities. Particularly after watching "The Pursuit of Happyness" with Aimee (on a rare date) last week, and seeing what Glide Memorial UMC means to urban San Francisco, I can't get this out of my head... and I wonder what the Holy Spirit might be saying to me right now, as I think about future of Shawnee.
Why can't a suburban church partner with an urban one to do something new?
4) Spent last night eating Hickory Farms with Aimee watching "Uncle Buck" (a gift from her to me this Christmas). What an enjoyable evening!!! I love spending New Years at home with my wife and family... especially if the younger members of said family are asleep by 9pm. And I've seen Uncle Buck so many times that I start laughing before the funny parts (which are numerous) of the movie (which Aimee loves... I do the same thing with "Planes, Trains, and Automobiles"). I can't think of a better way to close out 2006... Aimee and I together, watching a movie, with our boys safe and sound asleep, all snug in their beds.
As an aside, I miss you John Candy. You make me laugh.
5) Is it true? Will I actually spend all New Years Day reading and writing instead of watching football? Afraid so. Such is the academic weight of the coming days.
6) Here are some my personal highlights of 2006
a. Coaching Max's basketball team, which culminated in him and I taking in a Cavs game last spring. I can't believe how fast my oldest son is growing up, and what a great person he is becoming.
b. Grocery shopping with Xavier on Fridays. Another amazing boy growing up right before my eyes. The child who never said a word until he was two, now non-stop talks, making up stories, singing songs, and telling jokes (mostly about poop). Nobody can get us laughing harder.
c. Eli deciding that Daddy, while not as indispensable as Mommy, was still pretty important.
d. Our epic family journey this past fall which found us in five different towns (Indy, Chicago, Goshen, Lima, Wilmore) in five different days. We swam and ate pizza in Indy (the boys still thing the Hampton Inn we stayed at was the fanciest place they've been in their lives), maxed out freebie visits to museums in Chicago (while yours truly got to officiate one of the funnest wedding ceremonies of his life.. congrats again CJ and Jill!), hung out with the Walters, rode all the rides at Shawnee's Fall Fest (I engineered the train again, making me a local celebrity with kindergartners), and collapsed back in Wilmore. An unbelievably fun weekend.
e. Being named the successor pastor to Joseph at Shawnee. I remember always saying, given how charismatic he is and the job he did at this church, "God bless the sucker who follows Joe Bishman at Shawnee." Who'd have thunk I would be the sucker?
f. I can't say upon arriving that I really wanted to be on Asbury's campus when I arrived in July. I've never been one who wanted to put his life "on hold", which is what withdrawing a year from the local church seemed like for me. But professionally, doing Beeson is turning out to be one of the most important things I've ever done. I can't explain how it's changing me, but it is. And besides, I'm so honored to be in the same class with Scott, Gordon, Alicia, Trav, Kent, Travis, Jason, Matt, Jim, Aaron, and Nolan I can't put into words. What a blessing!!!
g. I haven't absorbed more in a shorter period of time probably since I was a little boy, than I did while walking the streets of London. Experiencing the End of Christendom, exposure to a new kind of charismatic ministry, worshipping with hundreds of ex-pat Africans who being led in worship by a Swedish gospel choir, sitting where C.S. Lewis sat, standing where John Wesley stood, spending a day on the Tubes alone, recognizing the effect of post-modernism while being wowed during "Wicked", and the dozens of emails I've received from London since I shared my experience at Holy Trinity- Brompton made this such a great, great experience. I just can't tell you.
h. Getting my motorcycle license. I don't know how I'll be able to buy a bike without bankrupting us, but I will... somehow. Thank you Sue Dickerson for letting me practice on your ride.
i. Every moment I spent watching the OSU-Michigan game with my folks, my brother and his lovely wife, and the boys. Am learning how these moments become more fleeting over time.
j. Christmas Eve Eve with my in-laws. I'm not blowing smoke here.... it was my favorite Christmas memory this year.
7) Least favorite memories of 2006
a. My mother-in-law being diagnosed with liver cancer. Please keep praying for her as she fights this disease.
b. Reading and writing. Lots of it. Loads of it. More than I'll do the rest of my life.
c. All the people we're missing by not living in Lima the last six months. Our family, our friends, and particularly Sunday nights with the Great One in the nest. I can't get those missed moments back.
d. Every moment I took my wife for granted. She's a Hall-of-Fame Mom, and the best partner a person could ever have. Sometimes living with me just isn't very fun.
e. Any days the boys were sick.... especially with the stomach flu.
f. Leaving our home on Oak Terrace. No more playhouse. No more 100" screen theatre. No more great neighbors. No more cul-de-sac where the boys could ride their bikes without worry. No more 20+ shady trees. Probably our peak as far as houses go. Thanks Rob for letting us live there!
8) Talked to my buddy Pauly last night while on the road from Lima to Wilmore. Sounds to me like he's hitting his stride as a pastor at FCC of Chattanooga. The full-service coffeehouse is up and running, and is being used by countless groups (most amazingly, the NAACP on UT-Chattanooga's campus). The church is partnering with a local charter school that serves impoverished families and looking to do the same with the local homeless coalition. A new contemporary service is starting this spring. Worship attendance is growing. And most importantly, as far as I'm concerned, my buddy has found his calling. It's like I told his people the Sunday he was installed as a pastor... ministry is slow death. A dying to what we have been, which is painful. But you can't beat the resurrection on the other side. Great job, Pauly at leading a downtown mainline church that is finding new life and purpose.
9) Listened to the Bengals collapse last night on the radio. Talk about a modern-day parable... what team had higher expectations and more talent that the Bengals this year? Nine guys getting arrested for a multitude of stupid reasons just took the wind out of their sails. But hey... would have ever thought at any time in the 1990's that the Bengals would go 8-8 in a season, and that it would be disappointing? I get the feeling that this was one of those "one step back" years, where one more important lesson had to be learned before the team could make the leap to "perennial winner". In this case the lesson was "character counts" (a lesson the guys who ran the Portland Jailblaizers could have explained well). Here's hoping the offseason will reflect the team having learned the lesson.
10) Don't look for any posts until later in the week when our BP class hangs out in Houston (we fly out in a couple of days). And even then, I don't know if the family I'll be staying with (no hotels this time... instead we'll be with families from Clearlake UMC) will have wireless Internet. But you can bet your sweet bippy I'll be blogging about the experience... especially since someone decided we'd benefit from a visit to Joel Osteen's church. I'm not sure what we're supposed to learn from a guy who tells people that God will give them everything they want in this life if only they believe... but I'm sure I'll learn something!
Until then, hope you have a great New Year!
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