Where am I? And, a question...

In answer to Jennifers' question on my last post, I am still here, but took the whole weekend off from posting anything. And, being a professor, the weekend is Friday to Sunday (trust me, we do all sorts of deep, professorial stuff during that down time, any rumors you hear that we sit and eat Coco Puffs and watch Johnny Quest reruns is pure conjecture on the part of jealous part-timers!).

I am in recovery mode from trick or treat with my 4 boys - candy central around here!

Biggest joy: watching how much my boys enjoy handing out candy to the other kids in the neighborhood - whenever selfishness melts, life is good.

Question unrelated to anything posted so far: Why did God test Abraham? No, really, I'm serious. What was the point?

I have an idea that is starting to roll around in my head, but I wanted to put the question out there, and see what others think.

Let me know - my thoughts next post.


Also: prayers for comfort healing go out to Tracey and her family on a sad, sad anniversary today. I don't know where the gold is in these ashes.

Too painfully close to home.

Read this, and then walk away.

Sob'ah My Soul: Letting Go

Steve Needs...

I am one needy individual!

Through the wonders of the blogosphere, I ended up at Jennifer by way of Tracey, which led me to Lesslee, which introduced me to a game from Jennifer!

Got it?

Anyway, here's the game: Go to Google, and type in "(your first name) needs". Be sure to include the quotes, so you get that exact phrase, then copy and paste the first ten returns from Google.

I had no idea I needed this stuff! =]

Here's my list:

1) Steve needs a doctor

2) STEVE NEEDS YOU!

3) Steve needs a new v8-pack function. (I am not even going to ask --s)

4) Steve needs help again, please.

5) Steve needs YOUR money.

6) Steve needs you If you are a women and you like to play Ultimate (yipes!)

7) Steve needs you. That's reason enough

8) Steve needs to hurry up! This isn't nap time!

9) Steve needs to find a squirrel hitman. (Now, is that a hitman for squirrels, or a hitman that IS a squirrel? Big difference)

And finally:
10) Steve needs more money. (Especially if it's YOUR money!)

What the heck is God doing?

How much time do you have?

The title question could be answered over the next four days and not come close to being completed. To kind of quote CS Lewis, Aslan is always on the move.

What is refer to specifically this time is thanks to AuntieJean and her comment on my last post. She mentioned reading "The Year of Magical Thinking" by Joan Didion, and having not heard of it, I looked it up in Amazon. It sounds achingly interesting, but too painful for me right now. What launched this post, however, was the "customers who bought this also bought..." section. One of the other books listed was "Christ the Lord" by...Anne Rice.

Anne Rice?!?!?

Vampire Queen Anne Rice?!?!

I had to check that out.

It turns out that she has written a serious (not just a gimmck to introduce vampires into the ancient world) novelization of a portion of the life of Jesus as a boy - coming out of Egypt, going to Jerusalem, etc.

It turns out she has committed/recommitted her life to Christianity through the Roman Catholic church.

I find this significant. Any time a quality writer of the dark (Stephen King, Anne Rice, etc.) turns to the light, I can't help but wonder if a few angels do the party jig in heaven with a little more gusto. Think of the number of people their writings touch.

I plan on getting this book at some point - she's too good of a writer to not take this opportunity to read her portrait of the boy Jesus.

You know who's on my high list of people I pray will return to the faith they walked away from? Marilyn Manson.

Check out Alice Cooper today, and tell me it couldn't happen.

God is full of surprises - watch out!

I Am Truly Blessed

My life is so good, I don't deserve to ever whine about anything.

Not that I won't - I just don't deserve to.

I spent yesterday (Sunday) evening in the emergency room with my 5 year old son. He had fallen off his bed (a distance of about 2-1/2 feet), and broken his right arm about 3 inches from the wrist. Both bones. His arm was bent at that spot like an extra joint - I still get the heebie-jeebies thinking about the sight of that.

Why am I blessed?

We live 5 minutes from the emergency room.
He was in a room, and getting pain meds within 15 minutes.
Good friends came to watch our other 3 sons so my wife could also come and be there for our son.
The bones were set (radius and ulna were both snapped, and needed to be realigned), cast put on, and we were out of there in less than 4 hours.
24 hours later, he is adjusting, and starting to act goofy again.

How does this make me blessed?

I am not Charles.

Each life will be visited by trajedy - often.
John Irving, in his book The World According to Garp, called it "the undertoad". We all live in a world shot through with undertoads. How we view them, how we respond to them makes all the difference.

I could look at my situation, and say "My son broke his arm! This stinks!! Thanks for nothing, God!!" I could focus on the trajedy, and never get over it. I could blame God. I could allow bitterness to ferment.

Or, I could look for the gold in the ashes - the evidence of God's redeeming work in the midst of trajedy. If you look, it is all around us. You can allow gratefulness to fourish.

Now, if I was Charles (go to the link, and pray for that man), I would probably not be feeling blessed right now. I would be wailing and railing at the evil injustice of it all.

But in time. Even in Charles' life, the gold will be revealed through the ashes.

Right now, the flames of trajedy are still burning hot for Charles and his daughter. But one day they will cool, and the gold will be there to be found.


Related subject:
A good, wise friend of mine recently gave me counsel based on the Old Testament, and the Isrealites.

In many of the writings of the prophets, God admonishes the Israelites for scorning the blessings he has provided for them, and looking longingly towards the foreign gods - the Baals.

My friend then made the connection with us - how we too often scorn the blessings we have been given, and long for something else: a new job, a new house, a new community, whatever. They're probably not really any better, just different - new! improved! reformulated!!

I am sooooo guilty of this. It's embarassing.
I have often commented on this blog how fortunate I am - this very post, in fact - and yet, I keep on looking for and longing for that new, different, "perfect" whatever.

Chasing after the wind.

Vanity. All vanity.


Dear Heavenly Father, grant me the wisdom to see and appreciate the blessings you have set before me. May I bless you, and thank you. Help me to truly understand that one day in Your house is better than a thousand elsewhere. That you have given me bread, not stones. That you are my shepherd, and I shall not want.
Amen.

What I Meant With the Last Posting

I got a fairly thin response to my last post - although, I must say the the one comment I got was excellent, taking the question in a different direction than what I intended (thanks, Tracey).

Here's what I was ruminating on at the time: Anonymous Alan had posted a comment on one of my last entries brining up the issue of justice and the criminal punishment system we have.

I was interested in this, because I attend a church that has it's roots in the Friends/Quaker denomination, and our current criminal justice system was influenced heavily by this group. My understanding is that our current system of putting criminals in a cell to sit until they are set free came about under the influence of the Quakers. The thinking was that criminals would sit and reflect on their crimes, and end up repenting, and turning their lives around. Hence the name "penetentiary" - where you repent and do pennence.

While I can see this as a noble idea, the practical outcome has been Hell. Criminals shoved together with no one but other criminals to interact with. A numbing repetition of days without purpose. Overall, a degredation of the human spirit, and then release into a world that recognizes no change, only remembers past sins.

Woefully missing from our current punishment to crime is the concept of restitution - you break someone's window, you get it fixed. As it now stands, if you are the victim of a crime, the criminal is not responsible to you for anything, they are only responsible to the state to sit for a prearranged time period, and then go free. Everyone involved is left damaged and unreconciled.

What is the alternative? What should happen, instead of what does?

I think we have to start to seriously consider an insistence upon restitution. The victim is then restored, and the criminal is allowed to make the effort to make right what they have made wrong.

So what "should" happen in the example from my last post? Property should be returned. Damages should be paid for. Forgivenss should be sought.

There's more to it than just this - how do you restore an assault victim, for example? But I think this is a start.

Now what do you all think? Is there merit to restoration? How many huge holes need to be plugged in my call for change?

I guess that's all for now.

What Would You Suggest?

Here's a question inspired by Anonymous Alan, my buddy.

A man breaks into a home, steals $10,000.00 worth of jewelry and valuables.
He breaks the TV.
He knocks over and tramples family photographs.

He is caught.

What should happen now?

Not what will probably happen, what SHOULD happen?

Making God Look Stupid

My vote for one of the all-time abused scriptures:
First Corinthians 1:20b - Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world?

Too many of us Christians use this verse as an excuse for making God look stupid in the eyes of the world.

How do we do this?
Bunches of ways, but I want to focus on one tonight.

Question: Which is worse - taking a paper clip from work, or murdering your boss?
Secular answer: Murdering your boss.
Christian answer: No difference. They're both sin. God sees all sin the same. "All have fallen short..." and all that.

In the eyes of the world, this makes us, at the very least, look stupid, and at worst, makes God look stupid.
If a four-year-old can tell the difference, why can't God?

This is a gross misunderstanding of the concept of sin in the Bible that is parroted by way too many unthinking Christians. It also happens to be the issue I was arguing in the Bible study I mentioned in my last post. 10 guys sitting in a room, and I was the only one questioning the standard Christian line on this.

Now, lest you think this isn't Standard Christian all too often, I have heard pastors on the radio and TV making the same statement about God seeing all sin the same.

In reality, they are right, but only halfway, and by not thinking through the other half, they make God look stupid in the eyes of the world. In my view, this is serious stuff. I am an ambassador for Christ, I should represent Him as Lord of lords, the Alpha and the Omega, not Knucklehead Smiff.

What is the whole answer? God views sin (and so should we) in two different ways: as an issue of salvation, and an issue of sanctification. As an issue of salvation, all sin is indeed the same. All have sinned, no matter how small or inconsequential the sin, and therefore fall short of the glory of God, or fall short of the standard of perfection/purity that God demands. This sin separates us from fellowship with God, and is, in fact enough to condem us as sinners and disqualify us from salvation.

However, as an issue of sanctification, sin has degrees, or gradations. What do I mean by sanctification? Basically, holy living. Our thoughts and behaviors becoming more and more like Christ. Within this aspect, sin can vary widely from taking the paperclip (stealing, technically, but nobody cares, including your boss) to murdering your boss (everybody cares, especially your boss!). Over time, we are to become (think, behave) more and more like Jesus, and our sins will become less and less serious, and less and less frequent. We will become more sanctified, but no more or less saved.

Does that make sense, or sound stupid?

I May Have Done A Terrible Thing..

I've gone and done it.

I've started to let my friends know about this blog.
(Hey, Alan, so good to see you here!)

Why is this a potentially bad thing?
Because I started doing this to get things down in pixels what had up to that time only been bouncing around in my head. It has been a chance for me to as honest as I dare (heck, I even admitted my affinity for sardine sandwiches!) without the fear of the strangely puzzled look you get from people when you have said something totally out there. 99% of you out there have no idea who I am. You could probably glean clues, do some sleuthing, and find me, but why bother? I'm just a blogger spouting off. Anonymity facilitates honesty in a situation like this - at least that's what I have used it for.

So now, when people I care for and respect may be reading this, will I start to self-censor?

I hope not.

There's a bigger question here, though. Why am I afraid to be honest with my Christian brothers and sisters?

In part, it is because that is my personal weakness: I struggle mightily with wanting/needing to be liked. I am sure that once people really get to know me, they will not like me. This is my struggle which has roots deep down in my childhood, and will continue plague me as I strive for healing in this area.

The other part, however, is pragmatic. I'm afraid, because it's true. In any church, there are those that use Christianity as a bludgeon, instead of a bandage (we're all wounded, aren't we?). Jesus could have easily said "The Pharisees you will always have with you..."

For example: I was once in a Bible study where, in the midst of a spirited discussion on a matter of theology where I was pointing out how a common Christian cliche' doesn't really make sense, one of the men turned to me and said: "Steve, no one else in the group has a problem with this, why do you?"

SHUDDER!!!

All of a sudden, what I thought was an interesting discussion leading to light being shed upon a troubling issue was turned into a question of my spiritual maturity. The issue wasn't the problem, I was. Be a good Christian like the rest of the men in the room, and shut up.

Do you think I was willing to take a risk of honesty in that group again? (BTW, in discussions with three wise pastors since then, it turns out I was right, and the common Christian cliche' was wrong)

Oh well, here's to worshipping naked (thanks for the allusion, Tracey).

I'll be the one with the bag over his head, trying to look anonymous.

10 years later...

OK, so I got tagged to do this meme: it starts with what were you doing 10 years ago, and descends (ascends?) from there.

Of course, after thinking about it, I want to break the rules!

I want to go back a bit further. You see, I was going through a box in the basement (I live in southern California AND have a basement - how cool it that?) and came across an old copy of What Color is Your Parachute, a classic career/life guide book. I had written down the answers to one of the surveys in the book, and the results of it. As best I can remember, I went through the book in 1987 or so - 18 years ago - when I was a young sprout of a graphic designer.

The results were amazing.

This 18 year old survey came up with the fact that I should be in a job that values creativity, independence, private times and social interaction, a varied schedule, and revealing truth. Basically, a professor!

Now, 18 years ago, I had no idea I would end up professing - I didn't even make the decision to go back to school until three years later, and didn't get a full-time teaching job until 2000 - 13 years later.

All this to say what?
I guess, just that I spend an awful lot of time whining to God about what I want, and when I want it (now, please, Sir), and yet, looking back God has been carefully and delicately orchestrating amazing things. If I would just calm down and rest in this knowledge, what an even more wonderful life this would be!

So, on with the meme!!

Ten years ago...
I was newly married, no kids, full-time designing, part-time teaching, and TERRIBLY envious of this one man in my church who had my job! Or at least what I KNEW should be my job: a full-time gig at the local Christian University - I'll call it A Christian Most Educated University (ACME-U, for short). I wanted that job so BAD! I whined to God all the time about it. When would he get with the program and give me that job?! Now!! ...please...

Four years later, I got that job...and HATED IT! Let's just say that the other Art dept. faculty and I didn't mesh well. It was no fun. Not at all what I had dreamed. What a dismal dissapointment. Now, let me say that I got along great with the rest of the school's faculty and staff - just not the Art dept.

God, remember all that whining I did to you? Never mind.

Now, at the end of that year, I was committed to leaving, even if it meant going back to full-time designing. But, God in His undeserved generosity, gave me the job I now have (another cool story for another time) - an infinitely better fit, better job, better everything!

Five years ago...
I was starting my first year at New Perfect School!
I was also the father of two boys, with #3 on the horizon, and #4 not even in my wildest dreams.
My gratefulness index was through the roof at this point.
The only melancholy spot was that we had decided to look for a new church, after I had been there for 11 years, and my wife had been there for 6 years. There were valid reasons to look elsewhere, but it was still a sad thing.

One year ago...
I was starting year 4 at NPS, and still loving it! Thanks be to God for looking beyond what I demanded, to what was best for me.
We now had 3 boys, and #4 was cooking...
And, we had returned to our old church! Another long story for another time. Suffice it to say that Horrific Upheaval had left the church in a great place, and we are glad to be back!

One day ago...
I was scrambling to help too many students who didn't listen to the instructions, and so didn't do thing right, and so had to scramble at the last minute to get things done...and I still love it! =]
I was also already anticipating tonight's new episode of Battlestar Galactica! (yes, I'm a SciFi dweeb, so laserblast me)

One hour ago...
I was joyously downloading a bunch of Yes and Emerson, Lake and Palmer tunes from a progressive rock website - legal downloads, as far as I can tell. So, not only am I a SciFi dweeb, I'm a 70s bloated progressive rock dweeb.
Pray for my wife.

Five favorite snacks...
Vanilla ice cream with walnuts, raisins and chocolate chips mixed in. (Truly yummy! Try it.)
Taco Bell bean burritos. (They still remind me of a special treat with my mom when I was out running errands with her.)
A big glass of iced tea. (Maybe not a true snack, but my almost constant companion.)
A sandwich made with sardines in mustard sauce. (Pray for my wife)
Cold pizza. (Any kind, as long as there are no mushrooms on it!)

Five songs I know the words to...
Karn Evil 9, part I - by Emerson, Lake and Palmer (See, I am a progressive rock dweeb!)
Carpenter Gone Bad - by Bob Bennett (My all-time favorite singer. Look him up, he's worth it!)
The Hokey Pokey (It's late, I'm tired, so I'm going for the easy answers)
It's a Small World (And so do you! And now it will be stuck in your head for hours!! Bwah ha ha ha!)
Celebrate Me Home - by Kenny Loggins (A special song from my first year in college - I listened to it on the I-5 from UCSD to home)

What I would do with 5 million dollars...
All sorts of good, altruistic things.
And an insanely great stereo/home theater system!

5 places I would escape to...
I would just throw 5 darts towards the southwest (Arizona, New Mexico, Utah, Colorado), and never look back.

5 things I would not wear...
I, too, like Tracey and The Anchoress, would not wear a dress. (Although, I do got the gams for it!)
"Mr. Rogers" sweaters. (A long story for another post)
Anything I wore in the 80's!
Any jeans other than Levis - they just don't fit the same!
Those lame-o Christian t-shirts that rip-off secular brands/logos ("Be-wiser" instead of Budwiser, etc.). Come on folks, be original, not derivative!

5 favorite TV shows...
Battlestar Galactica (the new one!)
Design on a dime
A Dodgers game
Star Trek, the Next Generation
Stargate: Atlantis

5 greatest joys...
My redeemed life
Wife
Boys
The creative process
Driving in my car somewhere I've never traveled.

5 favorite toys...
My Car
My Mac (Powerbook)
My Guitar (12 string)
My Tools in the Garage
My Boys - nothing is better than playing with them!

Who do I now hand this off to?
You!

My New Motto!

A couple weeks ago, my oldest son and I were talking.

Now, I must say at this point, that #1 son is awfully bright for his age. He started talking at one year, and hasn't stopped except to read and sleep. Off the scales verbally, scary-quick memorizer, and was told by a Sunday school teacher that he has "the gift of imagination". That's my boy.

All that to say that we talk about lots of stuff on almost a peer-to-peer level. He is emotionally 7 years old, though, so there are definite lines not to be crossed.

One day we were talking about stuff, and it led from the function of our internal organs, to focusing on our digestive system, to harmful versus beneficial bacteria and viruses.

See, I told you he is not a normal 7 year old when it comes to knowledge stuff.

In the midst of this discussion, he blurted out an exclamation that floored me with it's innocent insight, and reinforced my belief that he will do something in life that expands our world's body of knowledge. I have no idea what, and it doesn't matter. I just want him to follow the path that God lays before him.

Anyway, this is what he blurted. I am not kidding.

"Every answer leads to a question!!"

If that doesn't encapsulate this glorious, awsome, mysterious universe God has placed us in, I don't know what does.

Good job, buddy.

Shall the poor always be among us?

I ran up against a very troubling situation over the summer, and into the Fall, and wanted to run it by you all, and get your reactions.

This past year, my oldest son has become friends with Brian, a kid who showed up at AWANA (a kids' Bible club thingy), and quickly caught up with his peers on Bible verse memorization (passing a lot of the slower memorizers). He is sweet and kind, and just a great kid. We were happy our son and he were buds. Brian's older brother is also a great kid, and they have both come over to our house to play with our boys.

Now comes the troubling part.
These kids are poor. Seriously poor. Their mother works a bit at a donut shop, we think. When we first me them, she was also helping to care for an older lady in our church who needed live-in care. The older lady ended up needing to go into a nursing facility, and the bottom-feeding sharks - I mean relatives - of this lady got a lawyer to give them control of the house, so Maria and her boys had to move...quickly.

In trying to be a part of helping them, more to their story was revealed to my wife and I.

It turns out Maria is undocumented from Mexico. I don't know if the boys are born here or not - excellent english, with no hint of an accent. Before moving in with the lady, they were all living in one room of an apartment - until the landlord found out, and kicked them out. This kind of thing seemed to be a pattern in her past: moving from place to place wherever she could.

At the last minute, a kind single lady from the church offered to let them stay with her for two weeks, until Maria could find a more permanent solution.

Now comes the really tough part.
In the two weeks, Maria made no effort to find anyplace else. Time went on, and nothing. As it turns out, this is also a typical mode of operation for her. Stay wherever until kicked out.

This put Susan (the single lady) in the awful position of being Scrooge (or worse), and kicking them out. Imaging telling a mother with two kids, and no place to go, to leave. What a terrible position to be put in!

As this was happening, a couple interesting events turned.
As Susan was telling Maria that she and the boys had to gone by the next day, Maria called her boyfriend (what? where did he come from? no one knew about a boyfriend!) who came over and started threatening Susan and the rest of the church. A fine way to endear yourself to people who have been agonizing over how to help you, don't you think?

Susan held her ground, and by the next day Maria and the boys moved out.

Guess where they moved.

Wrong!

They moved in with...HER SISTER!! WHO LIVES ONLY A COUPLE MILES AWAY!!!!!!

I did a spit take with my iced tea when I heard this.
What? She had relatives within almost walking distance, and she never said a word?
You put your kids through this awful scene over and over again, when there is family willing (I assume) to take you in?

I am without speech.

A final bit before I ask some questions of you all.
The people in charge of Helps, or Caring ministries, or whatever they call it, came to Maria with an offer.
They had talked to some people at the Salvation Army, and the Salvation Army was willing to take in Maria and the boys, and give them room and board while they gave Maria job skills training. Then they would let them all stay until they found her a job that would enable her to afford her own apartment.

She declined the offer.

I really want to scream.
Here is salvation (literally and figuratively), Maria. Won't you take it?

Now the questions:
What do you do?
Do you continue to reach out?
What does true help look like in this situation?
Tough love, or longsuffering generousity?

And the biggest question: How did the boys end up so sweet? They are kind, exceptionally smart, generous (with not much to be generous with), good kids. How amazing is that?

My wife and I are committed to Brian and his brother. We will bring them over and fill them with food and love. We desperately want to love them with the love of Christ - so that no matter what happens and where they end up, they will have a time and place where they got bread and love, not contempt and gravel, and the name of Jesus will not be reviled.

Is there anything else we can and should do?
I don't know right now.

I just don't know.

Re: Spinning Wheels

Tracey over at Worship Naked raised an interesting question: basically, would it bug you if your pastor bought a flashy, expensive new sports car? This really raises the issue of conspicuous consumption while in the ministry. I posted a long comment at her site, and decided to post it here as well. If you find what I wrote interesting, check out her original post, and all the comments.

Here's what I wrote:

Good question, Tracey.
A couple thoughts.

First, the Pope is not rich - the Catholic church is. He can't quit and take any of the stuff lying around the Vatican with him as he walks out the door. I see it as an important difference - surrounded by wealth and opulence, and you own none of it.

Second, between the Catholic clergy's value of personal poverty and the Puritan's value of simplicity and frugality, we Americans have been surrounded by an equation of Godliness and meagerness when it comes to personal wealth. We expect pastors to live a somewhat meager lifestyle. Whether or not it's in the Bible that this HAS to be the way, that's what we feel in our bones.

Question: How many pastors refrain from smoking and drinking so as "not to cause a brother to stumble", knowing full well that a biblical case against these two things is weak? We would see that as an honorable and godly thing to refrain from these. Now, what's different about a Conspicuous Consumption-mobile? Knowing what the almost-ingrained expectations we (society) have of pastors, why draw the line here? Why be willing to potentially "cause a brother to stumble" over a car, but not a beer? A beer can be much more discreet. Less real chance of causing anyone to stumble, but harder to impress the neighbors with a beer. Hmmmmm...

Personal story: I used to work at a major broadcast ministry. Let's call it "Thru Grace our Insight has Focus" or TGIF for short. Once a month we would take time to pray for the folks who sent us letters asking us pray for them. Each employee would get 4-6 letters, and we would spend time in prayer for these people and their requests. It used to bug me big-time to read these letters that would say something like "I'm sorry I only could send in $10 this month, but I've been out of work for 9 months, and money is really tight". I would look around the beautifully decorated offices (solid oak desks, explosion-in-a-Laura-Ashley-store decor), and think "what are we doing?".

Did they have a right to spend their money on "nice" offices? Sure. Did it keep on poking me in that "godly=frugal" spot on my brain? Absolutely.

Wouldn't it bug you if the story of the Widow's mite ended by telling us that the Pharisees took the money, and used it to add more pure gold thread to their tunic, as the woman walked away in rags?

Sorry this went on so long - I think you hit on a sensitive subject for me.

The Other Time God Showed Up

Sorry it's taken so long to get to this!

I thought once school was back in session, life would get into a comfy routine.

Hah!

I am now the chair for my department, so I am starting out the semester with lots of meetings, paperwork, and other administrator-type junk. Not awful, but a definite black hole for time.

Now where was I?
Oh yes, the other time God showed up.

It was really the first - it happened before meeting my wife.

It happened like this:
I was up at a men's retreat (at Forest Home, for you So.Cal folks) with my church (EV Free, Fullerton at the time), and had some free time on Saturday afternoon. This was the autum of 1988, and my mom was right in the midst of wasting away from cancer. She was going to die, and I knew that, and didn't want to admit it, or face it, because then it would be real, and I'd have to do something other than run away from it all.

On this particular afternoon, I took off on my own, and ended up in a chapel there on the campgrounds. It was empty, except for me. I sat down, and eventually started to pray. I really dumped a lot of stuff on God. I was as honest as I could be, without crossing my own foolinsh line, and admiting she was going to die. Towards the end of the prayer, I got very specific with God, and told Him that what I really wanted, and longed for, was that He would come and sit down beside me. Not invisibly, or spiritually, but really, truly, physically to sit down beside me, and be there for me.

What happened next, you could call coincidence, but it was too specific, and the timing was too precise.

As I was in the midst of praying this - and I do mean at that exact moment - my best friend, Doug, and another friend, Dave, walked in, came up, and sat down beside me. They did not know what I had been praying, they did not know I was there. Of all the people in the camp, these were probably the two best to come in and sit with me. There had clearly been no one in the chapel anytime recently, and nothing was happening for the rest of the day that would lead anyone in that direction. It was just me sitting there within this short period of time, and them coming in a sitting with me at the exact moment I was requesting God to come and sit with me.

It was clear to me then, and continues to be clear to me now, that God was clearly making the point to me that here, on this earth, at this point in time, He uses mere mortals to be His hands, His feet, His face to others.

God did come and sit down beside me.

He did it in the form of Doug and Dave.

The Bible refers to all of believers as the body of Christ. From that day forward, sitting in that deserted chapel, I don't just believe that to be true, I know it to be true.

We are the body of Christ.

This is a blessing and a duty.

Some book recommendations for Jeanne

In the comments section of the last post, AuntieJeanne had asked for some book recommendations on the subject - loosly - of "is there a God, and who the heck is he?"

Well, I thought about it, and I came up with kind of a reading list. Let's call it the Who Is God Reading List.

Here goes:

First, there's a book called The Bible that is pretty good. =]
Seriously, though, I would be neglectful if I didn't mention the obvious cornerstone of knowledge about God.
However, I would specifically recommend a translation called The Message by Eugene Peterson. It is an excellent translation of the Bible into an enjoyably readable narrative. It is not as word-for-word accurate as most other true translations, but very good for reading, as opposed to studying.
I would also suggest starting with the book of Luke. I like this because you can then immediately move on to the book of Acts, and get the wide sweep of early Christianity all from the same original author. It's a great introduction to Jesus, and interesting history as well.

Next, in keeping with the theme of an introduction to Jesus, I would recommend Joshua by Joseph Girzone. It is fiction, but a refreshing re-introduction into the humanity of Jesus. Girzone paints a picture of a man I would want to hang out with, to follow, to be friends with. I came away with an image of Jesus as no longer carved from marble, but flesh and blood.

Along the lines of dealing with questions and struggles about faith, I would highly recommend anything by Philip Yancey. He is so real and honest in his writings, it's amazing that his books sell so well! His most recent book is Rumors of Another World : What on Earth Are We Missing? A great place to start reading his work.

And last, on the issue of simply does God exist, I would recommend two books. First, Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis is a great setting-forth of the sensibleness of the basic underpinnings of Christianity. Second, The Fingerprint of God by Hugh Ross is a refreshing look at the scientific reasonableness of our faith. He is an astrophysicist that has dedicated his life to showing the scientific reasonableness of the events laid down in the Bible - especially the creation story in Genesis.

Well, I think that's all for now. This list should keep you busy for a week or two!

Let me know what you all think, and if you have some other suggestions for Jeanne.

Remember Me?

I probably have no readers anymore.

About mid-July, I just ran out of things to say for a while.
Life got busy, the kids got sick, and summer slipped by.

I start up school again next week, so I should have plenty of time to blog instead of teaching my students (just kidding!).

I think my next post will be about the other time that God showed up.

Preview: He came up and sat down next to me.

When God Showed Up

The title refers to one of my favorite moments from the move, Forrest Gump. Watch the movie again if you can't recall the scene.

I use this to reference the two times in my life when I clearly felt the mighty hand of God actively moving. Not just an open parking space kind of thing that we often thank God for, but a serious life-altering event.

I'll recount the most important here, and the other later.

The most important time of God's direct intervention was meeting my wife.

Now, I know, lots of people may say this, and you could make a case for all spousal encouners being God-ordained, but mine was a bit too-many-coincidences-to-be-coincidental. When I realized what had happened after the fact, I was a bit frightened by the whole thing. When God shows up, it isn't always tame.

It started, for me, about a year earlier. I was driving and thinking (what I do best, it just doesn't pay well), and found myself thinking about a time 3 years earlier when I declined to take a trip to Europe with my best friend, Doug. My reasons were, in retrospect, lame: I couldn't afford it, I would have to quit my job (they'd never give me 3-4 weeks off), and then I really couldn't afford it.

Why were these lame reasons? Because, 3 years later, whatever money I didn't want to spend was gone anyways, and I HATED that job!! It was the most miserable job I have ever had, and desperately wanted to move on.

I missed out on a rare opportunity for miserably short-sighted reasons.

Thinking about this as I drove, I resolved then and there, that the next time adventure presented itself, I would take it, no matter what.

A year goes by.

I am sitting having lunch with a client (Suzie) and a printing company sales rep (Rhonda). Suzie comes up with the idea for her and I to go to Nashville to visit with Rhonda, tour the printing business, and justify the whole thing as improving communication between the graphic designer (me), the client, and the printer.

I couple weeks later, Suzie calls and says the company has OK'd the trip! They are willing to fly us to Nashville to meet with the printer.

Now, I am a freelance designer, not an employee. A part of me thinks this whole thing could be handled with a few phone calls instead of a flight across the country. Why would they want to fly one vendor thousands of miles to meet with another vendor?

BUT.

This is an adventure! They aren't paying be anything but airfare (Rhonda, the sales rep, is putting us up in her house-mansion-while we're back there), so it won't make me money, but I won't be out any either. It's a chance to go someplace I've never been.

Of course, I said yes.

We left on a Thursday (Suzie ended up not even going - another employee [Michelle] came along). Got in to Nashville for dinner. Friday was spent touring the print shop and seeing the city. Friday night, Rhonda had planned for us (me, Rhonda, her husband - Michelle was visiting friends she had back there) to go out to dinner and see a movie. Rhonda also informed be that she had invited a friend of her's to join us. A friend? Scary words to a single man. That phrase is often followed by the dread words: great personality. Whatever - at least I get free food and a movie!

We're about ready to leave, and "friend" shows up. Her name is Annette, and I am immediately attracted to this woman. We talk, and she is amazingly normal! "Friends" who come along on things like this are never attractive and normal!!

Not only do we spend Friday evening together, but Annette joins us for all day Saturday as well.

I leave on Sunday. Back to SoCal.

I realize something was different and special here, and plan to keep in contact with this woman.

Monday. Annette gets a phone call with a job offer from the man who OK'd my trip. Totally unrelated to the trip - he has no idea we even met.

After a few months of haggling with the job thing, and "phone dating", she gets the job and moves out here.

Six months after we met, I propose. She accepts.

Six months after this, we marry.

Eleven years later, and four boys later, life is good.

Let me back up and let you know what happened to Annette that night. She didn't want to come. She was supposed to go to Memphis that weekend. Rhonda begged her to come to help entertain the "Californians". She changed her plans for the sake of her friend.

After we were engaged, Annette told me that within 15 minutes of meeting me, she knew I was the man she would marry. If she had told me at that moment, I would have run for the hills! She wisely kept quiet.

Could you chalk this up to coincidence? Sure, if you wanted to.
But I lived it, and there were too many things that had to fall into place at just the right moment. For Annette and me, God's hand was clearly guiding and directing things.

One last thing: I had always told people, and myself, that it would take a bolt of lighting for me to know who the right woman for me was. On Friday night, after the movie, Annette and I sat on the front steps of Rhonda's house, and talked for hours as we watched a storm move across southern Kentucky. It was too far away for sound to carry, so we just watched as lightning bolts flashed silently.

I'm Still Here

I will be posting something else pretty soon.
Right now, I'm still pondering something that happend at church this past weekend.
As part of the service, we honored a young man, Abraham Simpson, who was related to members of our congregation. He was killed in Falujah.

I don't know how to put this quite right, but seeing the uniform of this young man hanging empty up front made me very angry.

Angry with politicians who value power, intrigue and their petty little feifdoms more than lives.

The democrats are doing it now, and it needs to stop.

Don't kid yourselves. They oppose the war because George Bush is in charge. Some slimy republicans did it when Bill Clinton was in charge, but not as many in the mainstream of the party. This group of democrats seem to have lost sight of some essentials.

1) Every power play to undermine the war on terror gets someone killed. One of the good guys. Shame on you.
2) If the U.S. is united, no opposition can survive before us. Our enemies will melt. You know it, and they know it.
3) Every power play to cause disunity in the U.S. gets someone killed. One of the good guys. Shame on you.

I am an obscure guy with an obscure blog that no democrat in the federal government should ever have reason to read. I don't usually deal in the political here - I feel me usefulness on the web is in other directions. So, if you are reading this, consider very carefully how it came to your attention.

Could the mighty hand of providence be at work?

Abraham Simpson is dead.

He died so that I could light sparklers with my kids, and not fear tomorrow.

He is a hero.

There are democrats who could be heros too, but it might cost them their political lives.

What a small price to pay if it saves just one Abraham Simpson.

Trust

I was just reading something on another blog, and it mentioned Trust - meaning, trust in God.

This has been a big issue in my life. I actuall made a sign that said "trust...", and put it on the dashboard of my car. I meant it as a reminder to trust God, passengers thought I was telling them to trust me as I careened down the highway.

What does trusting God look like?

I suppose it depends on your view of how active God is in your life.

If God is intimately and actively involved in your life, then trusting Him can take on a kind of wild, adventurous tone. Why not pack up and move to Mongolia? God can protect me there, just like He does here, right? You get the idea.

If God is more distant, trusting Him becomes a safer, more sober undertaking. God has proivided you with certain talents and abilities, so use them wisely and not throw them away for the sake of a risky jaunt to Mongolia. You'll lose your job, for sure. God expects you to be careful. Don't foolishly test Him.

Where do I fall? I think like #1, and act like #2.

Makes me kind of lukewarm, doesn't it?
So, should I be Hot (#1), or Cold (#2)?

Let me know what you think, and why. It would be facinating to me to read what your opinions are on this.

Thanks!

Summer is Busy! and a Big Secret

Oddly enough, this past week has been awfully busy! No time to post much, so I didn't post anything.

I hope to post more this week, but I'd like to start off by letting you all in on my most embarrasing secret.

I have the cushiest job in the world.

Yes, I have to work.
No, I don't make millions - not even six-figures.

But.

I am a tenured college professor at a community college (hence the moniker, Professor Steve).
I work two 16-week semesters, thus I work 32 weeks a year.
This means I have 20 weeks off a year.

I am not kidding.

During the weeks I do work, I work 2 full days, and two half days.
This comes out to roughly 24-30 hours a week.

I am not kidding.

I used to work in the professional world, so I know how hard most people work. That's why I am embarrased by all this time off.
I will not get monetarily rich teaching college, but I reap benefits that money will never buy.
I am home with my boys - alot. I get to talk to them, play with them, be with them. The only way to get quality time, is to have quantity time. I am there for them. Priceless.

I am home with my wife. We interact constantly. We long for more, but that will come as the kids get older.

I get to help with the kids' schooling (homeschool). We get to go on field trips all over.

Now, on the teaching end of things, I teach what I practiced for 15 years, and still do for a few clients. I get to be practical, bottom line, vocational in my approach, which suits me perfectly.

I get to interact with a wide swath of humanity, and try and be a living example of what a Christian looks like, acts like, smells like, etc. It's easy to stand out if you try and treat people as Jesus would.

I am free of the status-seeking ego race of higher education (4-year schools), where reputation, grants, status, theoretical work, etc. rule the roost. A community college is all about teaching people, not puffing yourself up. What a breath of fresh air it is.

I am so incredibly grateful for this job. I don't deserve it. I see it as a priviledge and a responsibility, not to be squandered.

More on some serious aspects of teaching later.

For now: Gratitude Index: 10