Goodbye Snow

This past Saturday a group of young adults and even some offspring went out the Wapsi River Environmental Education Center for some fun snowshoeing and animal tracking.

The more hectic my days become, the more committments during the day and night, the more often I crave escaping to the woods for snowshoeing, skiing, or hiking. There's something important about renewal in the great outdoors. When I was a kid, a usual part of life was playing outside after school, iceskating with dad on Saturdays, or playing tennis every day all summer long. It can be a trick for me to be outside during daylight at all, especially during the short days of winter. But surely, every day in the sunshine or even under overcast skies is a good day for renewal and refreshment.

No-Buying New Stuff Lent

Lent is on my mind. Here at church, we are bustling through church service and program preparations for this great season in the year. Lent, the forty day period before Easter, is a special time to hone in on our spiritual selves. It’s called a penitential season, a time for us to repent of the things that keep us from loving God with our heart, soul, strength and mind and loving our neighbors too. For generations, many Christians have given up something like chocolate or beer during Lent to remind them in a daily way of Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross and the forgiveness we find in him. I didn’t grow up giving something up for Lent, but in adult life, I’ve begun adding a spiritual discipline for these forty days. This year, I have an ambitious Lenten discipline.

Luckily, I have help. Dear friends from college and I are taking on the same task: A No-Buying New Stuff Lent (NBNSL). What will this look like? Well, we won’t buy new stuff. This means no leaving Target with a pack of 250 votive candles, just in case I might need them. That means no running to the mall to grab a cute outfit for a fun date. If I want a new (to me) shirt or sweater, I am very welcome to take a peak at any of the used clothing stores in town. And what about the Valentine packages that I can’t wait to mail? Well, their contents better be hand-made or funky vintage whatnot that I find at the Salvation Army.

There will still be all sorts of stuff to buy: food, beverages (NBNSL excludes me from getting to-go cups at Starbucks. If I want a hot beverage, I better bring my own cup, as I feel guilty about throwing away a paper cup EVERY time), toiletries, necessary household items, like vacuum bags, and MAYBE supplies for making presents, like flower seed or yarn.

I have a lot of hopes for this Lenten disciple. I hope to better notice how often I want to buy something and look at my motivation for a purchase. I hope to spend more time making gifts—so that care packages can still be sent, but maybe filled with more consumables than stuff to throw on a shelf. I also hope to be in conversation with God about my relative affluence, my consumption, and what that all means for my relationship with Christ.

I’ll post periodic updates on “No Buying New Stuff During Lent.” Feel free to join in this discipline if you’re so inclined and best wishes for coming up with a way to grow in faith and love during Lent.

Questions, Christ, and King

My wife, Tera, and I were part of a conversation recently with the St. Paul Parenting Fellowship group. Our evening together focused on "Answering Kids’ Tough Questions." Here are some of the questions from our evening together:

Why can't I see God?
Why do people have to die?
Where do people go when they die?
Where is heaven?
What happens to people who don't believe in God?
Why does God let bad things happen?
If God can do anything, why don’t some people have a house?

I find it interesting that the questions we ask and wrestle with throughout our lives aren't too different from the one these little ones raise.

Click on this link to listen to an episode of This American Life entitled "Kid Logic." (Click on "Full Episode" in the left margin.) It's all good, but especialy moving starting at 13.10.

Thanks Dr. King for trying to answer some of the tough questions.

An Invitation

I can’t get the beauty out of my mind. It has been over a month since some 7th and 8th graders went to local extended care facilities to sing Christmas carols for the people who live there. The group I was with spent some time on a memory care unit. The voices of our kids were quite nice, but nothing to match the little woman who joined us part way through our singing.

As we entered one dining room, it was so neat to see some of the older people mouthing the words as we sang. Most were slumped or slouched in their chairs. But, bright smiles lit up when they heard familiar hymns.

Later, we ventured down a hallway. After rounding a corner, the whole group stopped to sing for one resident and two family members. Minutes later, a slow moving woman came around the corner in a walker. For some reason the singing didn’t give her brain enough warning. She was visibly startled by the confirmation crew - and she turned to leave.

Someone thought quickly and went over to invite her to join the song. Startled eyes changed to sparkling eyes. Moments later she was singing Silent Night – about three words behind the rest of us. What beautiful strength must have been poured out in hymns, songs, and African American spirituals during the younger years of this woman’s life! Her voice now is cracked. Her words are a step or two behind. Yet, the beauty of her song is unmistakable.

Our invitation - meant to benefit her - turned into gorgeous blessing for us.

Searching

Elizabeth, Lorin and I went on a camping trip Christmas Eve. We were searching for the Light of the World at the 5pm family service.
We thought the Christmas tree was the Light of the World. Nope.
We thought the Advent candles were the Light of the World. Nope.
We even thought the projector for the screen was the Light. Nope.
Here's a video of the projector fiasco.


Good thing Brad sent us on our way and then there were a bunch of toddlers, preschoolers and elementary age kiddos to help us figure it out.

Ripple through Time

Christmas is over.
New Year celebrations have past.
For many of us, the rhythm of daily life has returned, all but extinguishing the beauty and wonder of late December.
But the realities of Christmas and a new beginning linger.

Canadian lyricist and musician, Bruce Cockburn, captures these lasting effects of Jesus' birth as he recounts the Story of God in his Cry of a Tiny Babe (from Cockburn's Nothing But A Burning Light [1991]).

Mary grows a child without the help of a man
Joseph gets upset because he doesn't understand
Angel comes to Joseph in a powerful dream
Says "God did this and you're part of his scheme"
Joseph comes to Mary with his hat in his hand
Says "forgive me I thought you'd been with some other man"
She says "what if I had been - but I wasn't anyway and guess what
I felt the baby kick today"

Like a stone on the surface of a still river
Driving the ripples on forever
Redemption rips through the surface of time
In the cry of a tiny babe

The child is born in the fullness of time
Three wise astrologers take note of the signs
Come to pay their respects to the fragile little king
Get pretty close to wrecking everything
'Cause the governing body of the Holy Land
Is that of Herod, a paranoid man
Who when he hears there's a baby born King of the Jews
Sends death squads to kill all male children under two
But that same bright angel warns the parents in a dream
And they head out for the border and get away clean

Like a stone on the surface of a still river
Driving the ripples on forever
Redemption rips through the surface of time
In the cry of a tiny babe

There are others who know about this miracle birth
The humblest of people catch a glimpse of their worth
For it isn't to the palace that the Christ child comes
But to shepherds and street people, hookers and bums
And the message is clear if you have ears to hear
That forgiveness is given for your guilt and your fear
It's a Christmas gift that you don't have to buy
There's a future shining in a baby's eyes

Like a stone on the surface of a still river
Driving the ripples on forever
Redemption rips through the surface of time
In the cry of a tiny babe

Out of Control in the New Year!

A dear friend is very organized. She is on-time, Blackberry calendar addicted, and she only wears ironed clothes. I tend to whirl around--coffee spilling as I drive, sneezing with wet hair, and leaving piles of organized chaos in my wake. If Anonymous Friend's name tag reads "Control Freak," mine reads, "Out-of-Control Freak." Despite all external factors, Anonymous Friend and I have a whole lot in common. In different ways, we both take a whole lot of steps to keep life under control. We both know what's in the food we eat. We both know how much is in our checking accounts. And we have our next coffee date marked on our calendars for three weeks after the time we last saw each other.

While I wheel around in my messy but ordered life, I feel like I have a good deal of control. The past four days have been a gentle reminder of the out-of-control nature of life. I was in Colorado celebrating Christmas and spending time with my sweetie's family. Sunday after church we decided to head to the mountains--only two hours from their Denver home--for some quick time with friends who were on a ski vacation. We took a quick glance at the roads on the Colorado Department of Transportation website. But there was no road! 60 mile an hour winds covered the roads with snow. All lanes were closed over Berthoud Pass. No mountains for us. Two days later, on New Year's Day, our vacation had come to an end. We were scheduled to leave Denver at 8:40am. At 6:40am, our flight was cancelled. The airline worker on the other end of the line said we were scheduled for another flight, four days later! Luckily, we were able to get back to Iowa only a day late. Our luggage didn't fare as well.

Closed roads, cancelled flights, missing luggage. A tension headache reminded me that I don't control everything. I'm curious about control. If I don't have it, does God? And what does that look like?