New Things

"I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert." Isaiah 43:19

Transition times are always tough. One of the biggest transitions that I've experienced in my life was the transition from high school and living at home with my parents, to college and the new freedoms that came with that. I remember feeling very nervous about leaving home and moving to a new place. I wasn't sure if I would make new friends, or even if I would know how to do my own laundry.

Prayer has always helped me during transition. So has holy scripture. The above verse from Isaiah was particularly meaningful to me when I went away to college. If you read chapters 42 and 43 of Isaiah, in particular, you'll hear about all of the "new things" that God is doing. God is always in the business of doing new things...resurrecting the old and making it new. Sometimes, though, we have a hard time perceiving God's newness. We can becoming so focused on our own loss and grief of old ways of being that we fail to recognize the goodness of God's new things.

I'm about to venture into yet another one of those transitions times; ironically moving back to my college town, where I experienced the first of many big transitions. I'm not quite as nervous about this move, probably because I've learned to look for and trust the new things that God is doing in each transition. I believe that each new place and new chapter will be even better than the one before it. I have every confidence that God will be my constant companion as I journey, guiding my steps and helping me to perceive all kinds of new things.

And with that, dear blog followers (however few and far between), thanks so much for reading our ramblings for these two years. It's been a privilege writing posts (however few and far between), and a great blessing serving this St. Paul Lutheran Church community.

I'm off to South Dakota! Wish me lots of luck and grace!

Training

Two isolated incidents have me thinking.

1. Last night my wife and I had a picnic in the park. It was fun and spontaneous. We sat on an old blanket and ate leftover sandwiches and fruit.

During the meal we had several visitors, some more welcome than others. The welcome ones were a dad and his daughter, friends from church. The unwelcome visitor: a dark-brown squirrel. A bold, hungry squirrel. Mr. Squirrel (for argument’s sake, this squirrel is a male) would not leave us alone. He got close enough that we could have touched him. It was uncomfortable, and…as odd as it might seem to say, it felt rude. We’d “scare” him back, and Mr. Squirrel would just return. I actually stood up and shoo-ed him away, but even that was only temporarily effective. Finally some dogs with their owners provided a permanent solution to our privacy.

Either Mr. Squirrel was born with more than his share of bravery genes, or he’s learned over time the easiest way to get food. He has been trained not to be scared of people, but to stay nearby for tasty morsels. Who knows how long he’s been in training at the park.

2. This morning I was biking down the Duck Creek path, trying to get my legs ready for a summer of riding. Lots of people were out, and sometimes we’d greet each other. Just before my half-way point, I was coming up to a jogger. She was likely a young mother, pushing her little boy in a stroller. The boy was probably about three years old. Right before I passed them, the little boy looked up at me, smiled, and said “good morning!”

What a beautiful surprise! What sweet manners! This little boy must have some pretty friendly parents, or some other gracious role models. In just his short life, he’s been trained to be kind and welcoming. If only all of us had such training.

Training. That’s the connection for me. A squirrel trained to be bold, a toddler trained to be friendly. Not to mention a wanna-be cyclist training to get in shape.

What are you in training for? A race or competition? A skill or hobby? A new job? I think training is a good thing. It’s good for us. Training gives us momentum, moves us into our future. In some way or another, we’re all in training. The Christian life requires training. Training in generosity and hospitality, training in how to serve and love. Are we training for the right things, in the right ways? Is your training shaping you into the person you want to be? How’s your training going?

New Server

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Counted

I was 1634th. That was my number. I got counted. My wife was 1633rd. Our friend Jana was 1635th. We all got counted. Together. Hundreds of us. Two thousand six hundred and ninety-four to be exact.

Sometimes it's a good thing to get counted. That can mean you're "in". You made it. You matter. And it was a good thing for us. It meant free ice cream.

We couldn't have asked for a better day to get counted. We waited outside for almost two hours but had no need to complain because the weather was perfect. The sky was sunny, and the temperature was in the upper 60's with a slight breeze. Spring was all around us, excitement in the air. It was one of those days that made you glad to be alive. And we were taking part in one of those events that only comes once in a lifetime. If that.

On Tuesday, April 20, hordes of Quad City residents and Augustana supporters assembled on the college's Ericson field to attempt a new world record. The goal: to break the previous record of 2500 for the number of people in a chain eating ice cream simultaneously. The added stipulation that put the fun over the top: the "chain" had to be created by licking the ice cream held in your neighbor's hand.

Our new, unofficial record - 2694 - has yet to be certified by Guinness, but it looks promising that we'll make the record books. Although you can't verify individual participants, you can read about the event at http://www.augustana.edu/x19602.xml.

It's not exactly the world record I would have chosen to be a part of, but, hey, it was loads of fun and very tasty. Plus, I was a part of something significant. I counted. It mattered that I was there. The new record wouldn't be the same without me or my wife or Jana. We mattered.

Deep down, I think that's what we all want from life. To matter. To the world, or to someone. We want to be a part of it, whatever "it" may be. We want to belong, to have purpose, to have meaning. We want to count.

As it turns out, you count so much that Someone was willing to die for you, so that you would live. Christ counts you as his very own. You matter. You belong, always have and always will. You have a purpose in God's world. The unending love of Jesus - now that's something you can count on.

What Time Is It, Mr. Fox?

Did you ever play this game when you were a child? One lucky "fox" would stand at one end of the room, and all the other players would stand at the other end and shout, "What time is it, Mr. Fox?" Mr. Fox would tell the time (3 o'clock, 7 o'clock, 11, o'clock), and players would take that many steps (as big and wide of steps as they could!) in order to try to tag Mr. Fox at the other end of the room. Sometimes Mr. Fox would yell "Midnight!" and players would have to run back to the starting line before they got snatched up by Mr. Fox. It's a fun game! You should try it at home sometime.

Mr. Fox has me thinking about the book of Ecclesiates, and thinking about what time it is. In Eccesiastes 3, the author writes some beautiful poetry about time.

3For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:

2a time to be born, and a time to die;a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
3a time to kill, and a time to heal;a time to break down, and a time to build up;
4a time to weep, and a time to laugh;a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
5a time to throw away stones, and a time to gather stones together;a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
6a time to seek, and a time to lose;a time to keep, and a time to throw away;
7a time to tear, and a time to sew;a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
8a time to love, and a time to hate;a time for war, and a time for peace.

It can become easy to think that time should only be devoted to things that make us feel good...like loving, and laughing, and planting. But Ecclesiastes reminds us that in life we experience times of death and loss and weeping too. These are necessary times, and they can, in fact, be helpful times.

What time is it in your life right now? Have you made time for both the good and the bad?

Potential

“You’ve got so much potential!”

“Why, thank you!”

Have you ever told someone that they have potential? You probably said it as a compliment, remarking that their future looks bright. That you see something wonderful in them that will continue to be developed and shared with others. Has anyone ever told you that you have potential? It probably made you feel good, proud about who you are. Or… maybe it caused you to think twice.

We all want potential… don’t we?

Is potential always a good thing?

The first meaning of potential certainly is positive. Potential conveys hope for tomorrow. It carries a sense of the future, a good future. We do want potential because we want our tomorrows to hold great promise and success. We want to see potential in our children and youth; it gives us confidence for the coming years.

But maybe you’ve told someone that they have potential because, today, they don’t have much talent for one thing or another. Potential here means that perhaps they might be better in the future than they are now.

Synonyms for potential include latent…dormant…currently unexpressed ability…un-actualized possibility…not currently present but possibly apparent later.

“Potential” can leave us wondering about the present.

This doesn’t mean we should stop using or receiving the word “potential” as a compliment. God sees potential in us. God believes that tomorrow and the next day we might love God and love others more than we did today. That in the future we might live our lives in ways that embody more of God’s ideal world.

God sees this potential, but God also loves who we are today. God is not waiting for us to realize our potential before God can use us to do God’s work in the world. God sees in us both gifts for today and potential for the future.

This is the kind of perspective shift we need, particularly in our attitude toward children and youth. These young members of our communities and our churches are not only the future, they are our today, too. Let not our penchants for perceiving potential prevent us from appreciating the beauty and contribution that our youth – and any of us – can offer today.

No matter our age, we all have not only potential for the future, but also a contribution for the present.

A Familiar Voice

Do you know the face in this picture? Some of you perhaps do; others would not. But many more of you would recognize his voice, especially if you heard him say, “And now you know the rest of the story.”

I heard Paul Harvey’s signature tagline when I was a boy riding in the car with my dad. Both of us would listen with rapt attention, waiting to find out how the story would end. We were rarely disappointed; somehow the conclusion always seemed to satisfy. For over 70 years, Harvey’s words crooned out of radios around the nation. His voice was familiar to millions of Americans as he used it to both inform and entertain.

There is something comforting, even holy, in a familiar voice.

This Ash Wednesday morning our staff gathered around a conference table, as we do every Wednesday morning. Before delving into business and treats, we begin staff meetings with a devotion and prayer. Befitting the day, we read the penitential Psalm 51, each person reading a verse. I was looking down at the Psalm as we began, reading along and listening. All at once I realized that I didn’t know who had started reading, but that I could identify the speaker by their voice. I refrained from looking up as we read the entire Psalm, and, sure enough, I recognized the voice of each and every speaker.

This probably should not seem so remarkable to me. But it is. To some extent, I am marveling at the subtle distinctions among human voices, and marveling, too, at the human brain for being able to detect such subtlety, even despite the spectrum of ways we use our voices.

But there is something more awesome than the mechanics involved. I knew the voices of my colleagues. I know them, and they know me. It’s a wonderful experience to realize that this is true in your life, that you know others and are known by them in return. It’s comforting, and holy.

Some One else knows our voice, no matter how much or how little we use it. We can rest in the comfort that our Holy God knows our voice. And Jesus assures us that we know his (John 10:4). May it be so.

By the way, the “most listened to man” in broadcasting was named Salesman of the Year, Commentator of the Year, Person of the Year, Father of the Year, and American of the Year. In 2005, George W. Bush presented Paul Harvey with the Medal of Freedom, the nation’s most prestigious civilian award. His business partner and producer was his wife Lynne Cooper Harvey, who died nine months before him. The first anniversary of Paul Harvey’s death will be this February 28. And now you know the rest of the story.