the fun of getting presents in the mail...

I've taken the 5 Love Languages quiz before, & also am a bit self-aware about what communicates love, sweet love, to me - mostly physical touch & words of affirmation.

Still, there is nothing like coming home from a long day at work to find that there are Unopened Packages awaiting ones arrival. Today there were 3 boxes; 2 from Amazon, 1 mysterious unmarked (yet professionally wrapped enough to make me not sweat that Ted Kaczynski is striking again,) box. All with my name on them. Booyah.

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I'm a slooooww opener of stuff. Perhaps its to convince myself that the wrapping paper needs to be saved. However, that's not it - in this situation, there wasn't even any wrapping & I still managed to take For-ever to open. I started with the unknown (because, hey, if its from Amazon & comes in a box, its a book. Or DVD's.)

Turns out my buddy Rudy, a wine 'broker' in SF remembered my birthday with some fruit of the vine - a Malbec & a Shiraz from the Barossa Valley. Sweet. Nothing like unexpected signs of blessing showing up on my doorstep. Thanks Rudy.

First box from Amazon - turns out it is a couple of Financial Peace books that theBean had ordered & BOOM had showed up the next day. Nice to have an Amazon hub in Fernley... So she was happy too. Vino & her books.

2nd box from Amazon is the jackpot - FIVE (5) books by C.S. Lewis:

The Problem of Pain

A Grief Observed

Mere Christianity (my other copy got snaked

The Great Divorce

Miracles

All of which means - I will be reading tomorrow. Lucky me. And thank you.

there & back again... Friday musings...

I spent the 1st part of this week in Los Angeles… San Dimas, if you want to get specific… It’s the home of Bill & Ted, as well as Life Pacific College. I had the good fortune to be able to travel with Brother, & to hang out with some dear friends, both of whom there is years of history. Had gut level talks… listened… laughed a lot. Discovered a great pub, on St. Patrick’s Day to boot, one that specialized in Belgians… the set up of the pub reminded me a lot of the ‘traditional’ Frankfurt/Sachsenhausen restaurant, albeit with a long, tall table instead of a standard one. Great times.

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On that note, Brother & I stayed in the dorms - Floor 3 of Bldg D, #315. Through a series of negotiations that I shall not get into here I ended up with the top bunk, which was a great gig once I found a way to actually GET to the top bunk. Ended up having to climb up the desk/bookshelf & then launch myself up & over the rail. It was quite the experience. Not as comfy as sleeping in my very own bed with my very own theBean, but it was cool - esp. with the novelty of sharing a room with buddies.

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One of the highlights for me was sitting in on classes - Pentateuch/Torah, where the class was in the beginnings of working through Leviticus - talked about the theme being "Becoming who we are" - never heard it described that way. In light of that, the rituals (ceremonies, practices, daily reminders) lose their strange-ness, & take on a special quality... seeing a people be-becoming... learning to step into their calling & identity. Nice job David.

The other classes we went to were Biblical Preaching & a Youth Ministry seminar class, with 7 students who are already out & about involved in youth stuff. The professor had to go to a "meet & greet" for about 40 minutes, leaving Brother & I to talk to & with the students. It was a highlight, & really sparked me to remember how much I enjoy 'school with a purpose'; learning, growing, being challenged in my thought processes, having to formulate new ideas & new conclusions. Good stuff.

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One of the other reasons Brother & I were there was to explore some distance learning ops - not a whole lot has surfaced, but in some way we'll be back at school, if only from afar.

It also spurred on & reignited some old ideas for a local institute within our church family - we'll see.

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At youth group right now we're talking about "Image & Identity" - reflecting on the fact that we've been made in God's image. We aren't mistakes. Individually, we've been marked as God's masterpieces, unique, special, & well-made, really coming to life in all of its fullness as we embrace who God made us to be.

And the enemy of that are the forces that exist to conform - reshape us, using a '1 size fits all' approach. Its easy to look outward, to the country & culture that we're living within... with its ideas about beauty, acceptable body shape, what to eat/drink, how to live... with the pressure to conform & take on behaviors & an 'acceptable' outward appearance to really fit in with those around us, even though it means living inauthentically based on someone else's version of what I'm supposed to be & do.

I was talking to a friend yesterday about this, & what came up was the sneaky & insidious way this same type of thing exists within the Church... where the pressure to become a 'good christian' with approved & authorized 'good christian behaviors, thoughts, characteristics, & preferences' can seemingly force us into a mold where we're just as focused on the outward appearance, going through the motions of living this 'good christian life' in order to gain the approval of others within the Machine. All in the name of becoming a disciple. But WHOSE disciple? Faking the funk, putting on a show that we're outwardly ok, while dying on the inside - living in a virtual prison of not wanting to do the WRONG thing, leaves us undeveloped, immature, & fearful. Is this the 'life in all of its fullness' Jesus came to bring? Don't think so.

Worse, the longer we go, the more difficult it can be to break out - because the longer we live the lie, the more fear & shame piles up, trapping us in a cycle of inaction.

Makes me think... The enemy isn't always out THERE.

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I'm stoked. Tonight, we get to go to Carson to hang with the Locke clan: brothers & fams. My dad's birthday is tomorrow, & to celebrate, we're gathering tonight for a Giant Apple Pancake (GAP.) Let me 'splain.

Back in the day, momentous occasions in our household meant going to Johnny Ascuaga's for a GAP - its a monstrous, dense, battered concoction, smothered with apples, cinnamon, butter, & powduhed sug-ah, then topped with syrup. The batter itself has to sit out for a day, & it takes at least 20 minutes to cook, & involves a 'flipping of the Pancake" that can (& sometimes did) result in disaster. Going to Johnny A's meant an adventure, not knowing if our delicacy would actually make it to the table intact, but that if it did, we were going to eat & eat well, at least until the sugar coma came on.

At some point, Johnny A realized that the GAP was more trouble than it was worth - to him at least - & stopped serving it. He did, however, put the recipe out for the adventurous soul that would try to recreate the greatness of the GAP.

My dad, being the brave soul that he is, took up that challenge, & over the years has become quite the GAP maker. Chef-like even, producing GAPs that rival the best I ever had at Johnny A's, marking great days, holidays, & just becauses with sweetness.

But up until now, he's the only one that knows what it takes to pull this off... I say until now, because we (me, brother Ben, & brother Moe & fams) have been invited to not only partake in the eating tonight, but also in the making, so that we too can carry on this great tradition of decadence. Ahh.

Should be fun.

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Spring sports season is upon us. Pasty is in track. I-Doey is in baseball. TheWeez is a proper footballer (soccer to us 'mericans) & I'm in softball. TheBean is breaking out her cheerleading outfit as I type... :)

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Life is beautiful. Tim & David, thanks for a great week.

Yet more reminders that life is beautiful...

Heard the news from Sister, & have been watching the news & reading the occasional PB Article, wondering if & when I would hear the 'bad news' that my snack of choice, Skippy Extra Chunky Peanut Butter was on the roll-call of salmonella laced products. Alas, nothing yet.

And so, today, I celebrate with a spoon, a jumbo jar of Skippy, a plethora of Hershey's semi-sweets, & a fresh-pressed cup of java. Ahh. Life is beautiful.

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And if that wasn't enough to bring me joy... all I have to do is walk into my office, & more often than not, meine Nichte, Ellie, is usually around to bring joy, a steady stream of yet unintelligible words, & a unstoppable quest for nanananana... here she is sitting at my desk reading my Bible... Ahh. Again....life is beautiful...

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Last Saturday was the Memorial service for Francisco Aranda. I spent the majority of the time at the memorial cracking up over memories... discussions, my attempts to practice Spanish, stories about pre-Disneyland Anaheim, & my favorite, Francisco's very practical take on theology... I'm truly happy that we have a hope past just what this life offers, as well as the promise that we'll see each other again. His family has put together a memorial website & online guestbook - check it out HERE.

Missions Development... #5

I decided that if I wanted to know what was going on, I needed to ask more questions & ‘put myself’ in the know on what was happening – not leaving it up to chance that I would find out, which meant taking on a more active (vs. passive) role in our travels – something that was uncomfortable for me to do, esp. as I saw myself as a ‘sidekick’ on the trip, not as the leader, coordinator, or planner. But, I was nervous, & being out of my culture/context in the UK had been tough enough – now we were headed to a place where the primary language spoken wasn’t English; it was German. I had known that we’d be able to stagger through just about any situation in the UK with a modicum of difficulty (which we’d proved by surviving a little ‘run-in’ we had with a policeman at a roundabout.)

I had no idea or assurance that we’d be able to do the same in Germany. None of us spoke German, & I/we had very little idea of what was coming. A few questions helped me discover that our plans for Frankfurt & the Foursquare Europe conference had been made ‘tentatively,’ which meant:

Somebody should be there at the airport to pick us up & make sure we get to where we’re going.

We don’t know the identity of that somebody, or have any phone numbers or contact information in case the ‘somebody’ doesn’t show.

We know that there will be Foursquare pastors & leaders from several countries in Europe, so there should be plenty of good opportunities for connecting.

We’ll be there for a couple of days.

That’s it.

Ouch. I should have known this might be the case, esp. because I knew that our leader’s life motto was “it’s all good.” (Truly, which is really funny looking back on the situation. In the middle of it, not so much ☺ ...) It would have been prudent to have insisted on getting some details in advance of going; but now we were in it, so rather than get aggro, start accusing & assigning blame for the situation we were in, it was time to communicate – to get on the same page – to do what we could to prepare for the unknown. So we talked - & all took responsibility for helping us to navigate through the remainder of the trip until the point where we got home, me to my wife & 3 kids, all of whom I was missing more & more every second.

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Our arrival in Frankfurt, traveling through customs, & getting our bags were all uneventful… it also brought us to the point of no return, the unknown. We headed into the main section of the terminal, which borders the baggage carousel room, & started walking. With no known destination. Just looking for somebody. I prayed. Hard.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a guy holding a sign with 1 word on it: ICHTHYS. From a missions video about Foursquare Germany that I’d seen in 1989, I knew that there was a American who’d planted a church in Germany, & that it was called ICHTHYS. I also knew that the word ICHTHYS was one that all kinds of churches & groups used – but I didn’t care. I grabbed my 2 traveling companions (as the other 2 mysterious travelers were… somewhere. No idea where they were for the entirety of our time in Germany,) & went over to the guy with the sign & asked: “Are you looking for some Americans to take to a Foursquare conference?” He was. YES! The elation I felt at that moment was indescribable. There was a tangible sense of encouragement that swept over me, a reminder from God that He was with us. That He was answering our prayers. And through all of the messed up, nebulous travel plans & snafu, He was in the middle of it, with us. With me. Yay. I hugged the guy, which I’m sure must have freaked him out.

He took us on a series of trains. We changed 3 or 4 times, & then he told us we’d have about an hour to get to our destination: Fulda. A-ha. While my other traveling companions talked happily amongst themselves, I pumped our guide for info, & asked him everything that I could think of. It turned out that the guy was just going to be our guide to the conference; he wasn’t staying, & knew nothing about what was happening, other than he was to deliver us to the conference center, & that the only people at the conference center (aka: a hostel) would be people who were attending the conference. Ahhh. Nice. I allowed myself to let down, & noticed that I’d been on edge for as long as I could remember. For the first time in days, I knew rest & a bit of peace.

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The train station in Fulda was only a short walk (translation: a mile or 2) from the hostel – I can remember walking up the hill towards the hostel, just as twilight was settling in. It was beautiful… & there were small groups of people hanging around outside. And they were smoking. Chain-smoking. Almost all of them had a beer or a drink in their hand. As I made my way inside, I saw the main meeting room, & it was full of people, many of them speaking English (because of the multitude of nations represented, the main language used between people of other nations was English. Yes!)

All around the room, the clusters of people were engaged in deep talks. And many of them were drinking too. I can remember thinking, “I thought that everyone here was here for the conference… hmm. Guess not.” In retrospect, it cracks me up, not because I was mortified at being around people who were drinking, or because I had something personally against drinking; its just that my experience with Christians & the church was that no one drank even the smallest amount of alcohol or smoked in public… esp. not pastors.

After we found somebody to help us get registered, & I found the room where I’d be sleeping, I went down to the main meeting room to mingle. And to see if I could find some of the other attendees for the conference. I found the lady who registered us & asked her if she could tell me where the rest of the people for the Foursquare Europe conference were? She looked at me, puzzled, & waved her hand around as if to say, “they’re all here, all around. You’re in it.”

I laughed, the kind of laugh that comes deep from within. It was my response to the very real ‘culture shock’ that I was experiencing firsthand. I laughed because I was being confronted with a situation so different from my past ‘church’ experiences… different from everything I’d been taught & everything I’d learned by observation about what real holiness & righteousness was… here were men & women that obviously loved God & were giving their lives in the context of pastoring… & they were also drinking beer & wine, in public even. I laughed because in that moment, I was hit with the realization that much of my experience with God/Christianity in the US had had an American cultural basis & bias… which was something that I’d sensed & been wrestling through for years.

Over the years, I’d observed that a large chunk of the American Christian world believed that drinking of any sort was the kind of thing that people needed to be delivered from… for many, 1 beer was at the very least a gateway to all sorts of bondage & trouble for the ‘drinker,’ & at most was a stumbling block being placed in the way of others, tripping them up with a ‘false sense of freedom.’ I knew of people on staff at churches & attending Bible colleges, that had to sign pledges saying they wouldn’t drink even a little.

I’d read the Bible & knew, deep down, that drinking beer, wine, etc. wasn’t the real issue & didn’t make someone more or less holy - & that the real issue was with a lifestyle of drunkenness. (If you’re brave &/or a glutton for punishment, you can read a series of blogs I wrote on the topic of Christians & alcohol HERE.) I also knew that, at home, in my city, I felt it was ok for me to drink beer (didn’t like wine at that point,) but also ‘knew’ that I was supposed to keep it quiet, & that many, many were against it. I wasn’t supposed to talk about it, or drink where people might see me doing it, & ‘be caused to stumble.’

But in a moment, I felt a freedom, I felt a burden lift - & knew that if I was going to be authentic, be real, then I would be the same person all the time. Contending for freedom (NOTE: not being ‘pro-alcohol’, which I have been accused of, but that’s for another story,) & also not submitting to a yoke of slavery hidden by self-righteous religiousness.

I laughed because I felt the presence of the LORD. And a joy. And a renewed perspective on me, my life, & the journey I was on. And I knew that I was glad that I was in Germany. And that God, & the kingdom of God were bigger & ‘more real’ than I’d ever imagined.