For those interested and keeping score--Oz went well last night. We actually made it well into the second act before we had to stop and restart something. Tonight is the dress rehearsal, and I think we are in pretty good shape. I hear that the tech rehearsal went until nearly midnight.
This last weekend was an interesting one to mark the passing of time. Nicki--"the girl" of the family--brought home a male friend to meet dad. They had been up to Ludington to see their friend Dustin and on the way home Nicki, Mr. Marion ("that boy") and Maid Mariann (one of Nicki's roommates from Wheaton) stopped for dinner. I think there was an expectation that I was going to grill him and really drag him through the mud and, you know, make him dance naked in the middle of the street while flining flaming arrows tipped with hot burning oil at him. Apparently I was a disappointment because I, well, only had conversation with him. He's an adult. He's very fond of my daughter. And I can tell by the way she looks at him that she is very fond of him as well. That's enough for me.
Everett, the oldest son, was gone with his band all weekend. They played shows in Ludington and Alma and who knows where else. They had a great time and got to be involved in some significant times of ministry. They also had the requisite vehicle troubles that come with being an unsigned band of 20-somethings trying to make it on their own. Derek hit a deer with his van, and Everett's car wouldn't start so that they could come home on Sunday night. But they took care of it. No, really--they took care of it, making all the right calls and getting back safe and sound and acting like, well, adults. That was very cool, and it is nice to be able to sit back and look with pride upon good decisions being made.
Aaron, the youngest son and "killer Marine" is now apparently also involved in a relationship. I found out about it on Facebook. I found out that some of the teens here at church knew and were sworn to secrecy. I am forced to observe this relationship from afar with skant details and only the occasional picture on Facebook or MySpace or a sparse comment here or there in the same place upon which to obsess. He's a smart boy--he'll do well.
All of this goes with the passing of time, I know, but I was reading another friend's blog about his daughter learning to ride a bicycle, and it makes me realize that those days have passed and will never return. The same is true of today. This day will soon pass and will never return.
What shall we do about that?
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Tech Rehearsal at Oz
We had our first "tech" rehearsal for Oz last night, and it went exactly as would be expected. It was long. It was tedious. Large amounts of time were spent adjusting the set so that things were in the right place at the right time. We were supposed to be done at 10--I left at 11:15 and they were still only halfway through the second act.
I've been through this lots of times before so I find that I don't lose patience with the process, mostly because I understand what goes into all the behind the scenes work of mounting such a production. It takes a lot of people to coordinate everything that is happening--sound and lighting people, stage hands, pyrotechnicians (yes, folks, I said pyrotechnicians--they are the ones making all the smoke and fire on stage!!!!) and even people who help characters fly over the stage. The flying is what took the longest to get right last night. Characters have to be able to fly in at just the right height and angle to hit their marks on the stage, and this isn't something that is improvised. It is rehearsed over and over until everyone involved in the process knows exactly what to do so that the actors can land exactly in the right place at exactly the right time.
And so, down in the orchestra pit (and pit is really too kind of a word here) we sat. And we waited. And we played a little bit. And then we sat and waited some more. But because we knew that we were just a part of something and not the "point" of the entire thing we waited patiently. We know that we are supporting players. Most people will never see our faces or even take the time to read our names in the program. Dorothy and the witch and the scarecrow, tin man, and lion and all the other people on stage--they will get the standing ovations. We in the pit, along with all the other behind the scenes folks, will do what we do to the best of our abilities to help the on stage folks shine. No one is any more or less important in the scheme of things, but not all of us get the same level of recognition for what we are doing.
I suspect that I have a harder time being patient in the Kingdom because I can't always get my brain wrapped around everything that God is doing. I don't often know if I'm playing a bit part or if I'm on the stage in a leading role. I can't always figure out if I'm operating a light for someone else or singing in the chorus backstage. I'm not even sure whether I'm on stage or in the audience, prompting or following (thanks to Kierkegaard for that one).
I suppose this goes back top the whole journey thing--I want to see us all walking together, holding hands and singing "Kum-ba-ya" as we travel toward a clearly marked destination with obviously defined objectives. I really want us all at the same point in the journey so that I know no one is getting left behind. I want everyone to realize how significant they are to the process and how important what they do is, no matter how small the role may seem in their own minds.
The ambiguity--it gets to me sometimes, and these are the times I lose patience.
I've been through this lots of times before so I find that I don't lose patience with the process, mostly because I understand what goes into all the behind the scenes work of mounting such a production. It takes a lot of people to coordinate everything that is happening--sound and lighting people, stage hands, pyrotechnicians (yes, folks, I said pyrotechnicians--they are the ones making all the smoke and fire on stage!!!!) and even people who help characters fly over the stage. The flying is what took the longest to get right last night. Characters have to be able to fly in at just the right height and angle to hit their marks on the stage, and this isn't something that is improvised. It is rehearsed over and over until everyone involved in the process knows exactly what to do so that the actors can land exactly in the right place at exactly the right time.
And so, down in the orchestra pit (and pit is really too kind of a word here) we sat. And we waited. And we played a little bit. And then we sat and waited some more. But because we knew that we were just a part of something and not the "point" of the entire thing we waited patiently. We know that we are supporting players. Most people will never see our faces or even take the time to read our names in the program. Dorothy and the witch and the scarecrow, tin man, and lion and all the other people on stage--they will get the standing ovations. We in the pit, along with all the other behind the scenes folks, will do what we do to the best of our abilities to help the on stage folks shine. No one is any more or less important in the scheme of things, but not all of us get the same level of recognition for what we are doing.
I suspect that I have a harder time being patient in the Kingdom because I can't always get my brain wrapped around everything that God is doing. I don't often know if I'm playing a bit part or if I'm on the stage in a leading role. I can't always figure out if I'm operating a light for someone else or singing in the chorus backstage. I'm not even sure whether I'm on stage or in the audience, prompting or following (thanks to Kierkegaard for that one).
I suppose this goes back top the whole journey thing--I want to see us all walking together, holding hands and singing "Kum-ba-ya" as we travel toward a clearly marked destination with obviously defined objectives. I really want us all at the same point in the journey so that I know no one is getting left behind. I want everyone to realize how significant they are to the process and how important what they do is, no matter how small the role may seem in their own minds.
The ambiguity--it gets to me sometimes, and these are the times I lose patience.
Monday, April 28, 2008
sunday...SUNday...SUNDAY!!!
Okay, so the title probably only makes sense if you read it out loud in a gravelly voice that announces commercials for places that sell cheap furniture....
So Gayle resigned her church yesterday, and now she is beginning to experience all the emotions that come along with such a thing. Some people are excited for her future. Some are angry. Some just walked out without saying a thing. It's tough. Of course, I say that like I know. I have resigned as an associate, but I have never left a church I was pastoring. It sounds awful, but she is doing what God is leading her to do, and she has peace and relief. I am proud of her but still praying for her church.
As for my place, the reactions yesterday were fascinating. Many clearly understood the emphasis on fasting and prayer. I received a couple of wonderful e-mails from individuals who expressed the thought that there is something waiting in the wings--something great that God wants to do here. Others, however, may have not quite gotten the point. There were several who expressed concern over me and how I must be feeling overloaded and overwhelmed and overworked and couldn't they do more to help me. The response is, of course, YES! Fast and pray! That will come. We are all at different points on the journey, and some will naturally be a bit farther down this road than others.
And so now we embark on this new journey as a community, seeking God's favor and attention. I just hope that, when he shows up, he grants us his mercy.
So Gayle resigned her church yesterday, and now she is beginning to experience all the emotions that come along with such a thing. Some people are excited for her future. Some are angry. Some just walked out without saying a thing. It's tough. Of course, I say that like I know. I have resigned as an associate, but I have never left a church I was pastoring. It sounds awful, but she is doing what God is leading her to do, and she has peace and relief. I am proud of her but still praying for her church.
As for my place, the reactions yesterday were fascinating. Many clearly understood the emphasis on fasting and prayer. I received a couple of wonderful e-mails from individuals who expressed the thought that there is something waiting in the wings--something great that God wants to do here. Others, however, may have not quite gotten the point. There were several who expressed concern over me and how I must be feeling overloaded and overwhelmed and overworked and couldn't they do more to help me. The response is, of course, YES! Fast and pray! That will come. We are all at different points on the journey, and some will naturally be a bit farther down this road than others.
And so now we embark on this new journey as a community, seeking God's favor and attention. I just hope that, when he shows up, he grants us his mercy.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
A Request or two
For those of you out there who are Christ-followers and believe that there actually is a God who cares about such things, I have a couple of requests for prayer, and I would be deeply honored if you would join me in praying about some stuff.
First of all, my very good friend, Gayle, is going to be resigning from her church in Duluth, MN tomorrow morning. Gayle and her husband Jason started this church from scratch nine years ago, and it has been an incredible run. Gayle is a short, soft-spoken Korean pastoring a church in a transitioning neighborhood that is running over with homelessness, violence, and despair, and she has done AMAZING things wiht God's help. This move is not a "running away" but simply a move of obedience into the next phase of her life. She is not going to another church, but she and Jason will, in all likelihood, be moving soon to a new city. None of us knows the future God has for them, but I am confident it will be great!
Secondly, I am preaching a message tomorrow morning that may very well be the most significant message I have ever preached to my church. I have been here nearly eight years (as of May 4), and my best guess is that I have preached nearly 1500 times to this church during that time period. Tomorrow's message is different, though, because it is intensely personal. I am preaching on the subject of fasting and prayer, and I'm using Ezra 8:21-23 as my text. The call is going to be for us, as a church, to come together to fast and pray every Friday for, well, I don't know for how long. We're not coming together to ask God to prosper us or bless us. We are going to come together to confess and to beg God to make us as individuals and as a church truly holy so that he can use us as he really wants to use us. For many of the people who attend here this will be the first time they have ever heard such a call, and I am desperate in my prayers for the understanding that can only come with the help of the Spirit.
Why is this so significant? It's been interesting, but this message fought me on being written. Then, one morning, I woke up EARLY and was able to write the message in @45 minutes. As it was finished I knew I had something both significant and DANGEROUS sitting on my computer screen. I immediatley e-mailed the draft to several friends for their comments, and to a person every single person wrote back and said something along these lines: "You know, God woke me up last night and told me to get ready for something significant happening soon at church, and that if it was going to happen I needed to be prepared to fast and pray." (Insert goosebumps here)
And so, if you are inclined toward such things, would you please pray for me, for my church, and for this message. I still don't know where it's going, but that's okay--I don't need to!
First of all, my very good friend, Gayle, is going to be resigning from her church in Duluth, MN tomorrow morning. Gayle and her husband Jason started this church from scratch nine years ago, and it has been an incredible run. Gayle is a short, soft-spoken Korean pastoring a church in a transitioning neighborhood that is running over with homelessness, violence, and despair, and she has done AMAZING things wiht God's help. This move is not a "running away" but simply a move of obedience into the next phase of her life. She is not going to another church, but she and Jason will, in all likelihood, be moving soon to a new city. None of us knows the future God has for them, but I am confident it will be great!
Secondly, I am preaching a message tomorrow morning that may very well be the most significant message I have ever preached to my church. I have been here nearly eight years (as of May 4), and my best guess is that I have preached nearly 1500 times to this church during that time period. Tomorrow's message is different, though, because it is intensely personal. I am preaching on the subject of fasting and prayer, and I'm using Ezra 8:21-23 as my text. The call is going to be for us, as a church, to come together to fast and pray every Friday for, well, I don't know for how long. We're not coming together to ask God to prosper us or bless us. We are going to come together to confess and to beg God to make us as individuals and as a church truly holy so that he can use us as he really wants to use us. For many of the people who attend here this will be the first time they have ever heard such a call, and I am desperate in my prayers for the understanding that can only come with the help of the Spirit.
Why is this so significant? It's been interesting, but this message fought me on being written. Then, one morning, I woke up EARLY and was able to write the message in @45 minutes. As it was finished I knew I had something both significant and DANGEROUS sitting on my computer screen. I immediatley e-mailed the draft to several friends for their comments, and to a person every single person wrote back and said something along these lines: "You know, God woke me up last night and told me to get ready for something significant happening soon at church, and that if it was going to happen I needed to be prepared to fast and pray." (Insert goosebumps here)
And so, if you are inclined toward such things, would you please pray for me, for my church, and for this message. I still don't know where it's going, but that's okay--I don't need to!
Friday, April 25, 2008
And now a Word from our sponsor
I read this in the Daily Offices today: "For this purpose he called you through our proclamation of the good news, so that you may obtain the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ" (2 Thessalonians 2:14 NRSV).
Oh to truly live with the glory of Christ and to see it reflected in every person who would identify themselves as a follower of his. Think of the possibilities....
Oh to truly live with the glory of Christ and to see it reflected in every person who would identify themselves as a follower of his. Think of the possibilities....
Another bicycle ride
It has been unseasonably warm here in West Michigan, and it has been fun to see everyone out and about enjoying SPRING!!! Of course, we knew it was too good to last, and so now we are shivering with anticipation at a forecast for next week that shows highs in the 40's. Uggh....
That is then, however, and this is now, and so now, while it is nice, we must do things! This calls for another bicycle ride. The Musketawa Trail crosses my road about a mile from where I live. This is a "rails to trails" initiative that produced a trail 24 miles long, beginning here in Muskegon and ending in Marne. I have only ridden the length of the trail one time, last summer, right before Aaron headed off to boot camp, and I decided that yesterday, since it was my day off, this would be a good day to go.
I was especially excited about the 10-15 mph winds that had been blowing from the west all week, since I was heading east. Imagine my disappointment yesterday morning to get on my bike and find that they had shifted and were now blowing at 15-20 mph from the EAST!!!! It was slow going, to say the least, and I did not make it to Marne. I rode as far as Ravenna, the halfway point, and then turned around to head for home.
The ride to Ravenna was ROUGH. The ride back was a BLAST!
Now I know I've already written about bicycle rides and winds and the Holy Spirit and all that stuff, but as I was riding yesterday I couldn't help think about things like perseverance, stubbornness, persistence, tenacity, etc. As my right knee was screaming in pain as I pushed against the wind I found myself speculating about the difference between stubbornness that produces growth and stubbornness that produces harm. There is a discipline that helps strengthen us to battle against obstacles, but then there are obstacles that are put before us to keep us from harming ourselves.
I'm not sure that, spiritually, I am always able to tell the difference, between the obstacles I'm supposed to overcome and the obstacles I'm supposed to avoid.
That is then, however, and this is now, and so now, while it is nice, we must do things! This calls for another bicycle ride. The Musketawa Trail crosses my road about a mile from where I live. This is a "rails to trails" initiative that produced a trail 24 miles long, beginning here in Muskegon and ending in Marne. I have only ridden the length of the trail one time, last summer, right before Aaron headed off to boot camp, and I decided that yesterday, since it was my day off, this would be a good day to go.
I was especially excited about the 10-15 mph winds that had been blowing from the west all week, since I was heading east. Imagine my disappointment yesterday morning to get on my bike and find that they had shifted and were now blowing at 15-20 mph from the EAST!!!! It was slow going, to say the least, and I did not make it to Marne. I rode as far as Ravenna, the halfway point, and then turned around to head for home.
The ride to Ravenna was ROUGH. The ride back was a BLAST!
Now I know I've already written about bicycle rides and winds and the Holy Spirit and all that stuff, but as I was riding yesterday I couldn't help think about things like perseverance, stubbornness, persistence, tenacity, etc. As my right knee was screaming in pain as I pushed against the wind I found myself speculating about the difference between stubbornness that produces growth and stubbornness that produces harm. There is a discipline that helps strengthen us to battle against obstacles, but then there are obstacles that are put before us to keep us from harming ourselves.
I'm not sure that, spiritually, I am always able to tell the difference, between the obstacles I'm supposed to overcome and the obstacles I'm supposed to avoid.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Time
I believe that God has given me the gift of cynicism. Dictionary.com, that great repository of intelectual data, says this by way of definition:
1. An attitude of scornful or jaded negativity, especially a general distrust of the integrity or professed motives of others: the public cynicism aroused by governmental scandals.
2. A scornfully or jadedly negative comment or act: "She arrived at a philosophy of her own, all made up of her private notations and cynicisms" (Henry James).
I was at a meeting today that only served to notch up my cynicism a bit more, and a well-intentioned friend, who was himself feeling a bit cynical, said that cynicism could not be a spiritual gift. The spiritual gift, according to my friend, is discernment, and cynicism is what happens when that discernment is perverted in a negative way.
Perhaps....
One of the areas I become most cynical (see definition #1 above) is when I feel like my time is being wasted. Time is such a precious commodity, and it's one I will gladly give to those things I am passionate about (like the people I serve and love so much). But when I find that time is being taken away from me to be given to things I don't believe in or don't care much about well, then, I shift into cynical mode.
Because of this I try to be very sensitive to the time of individuals in the church where I serve. And so I am constantly asking, what is a reasonable amount of time to expect individuals to commit to the building of the Kingdom? On the one hand, I realize that all of our time is to be sacred/holy/Kingdom time, but being the pragmatic midwestern American that I am I cannot help but try to find a number to assign a value as a solution to this equation.
What do you think? How much of a commitment should we expect of ourselves? And what kind of activities count in that time? I really would like to know....
1. An attitude of scornful or jaded negativity, especially a general distrust of the integrity or professed motives of others: the public cynicism aroused by governmental scandals.
2. A scornfully or jadedly negative comment or act: "She arrived at a philosophy of her own, all made up of her private notations and cynicisms" (Henry James).
I was at a meeting today that only served to notch up my cynicism a bit more, and a well-intentioned friend, who was himself feeling a bit cynical, said that cynicism could not be a spiritual gift. The spiritual gift, according to my friend, is discernment, and cynicism is what happens when that discernment is perverted in a negative way.
Perhaps....
One of the areas I become most cynical (see definition #1 above) is when I feel like my time is being wasted. Time is such a precious commodity, and it's one I will gladly give to those things I am passionate about (like the people I serve and love so much). But when I find that time is being taken away from me to be given to things I don't believe in or don't care much about well, then, I shift into cynical mode.
Because of this I try to be very sensitive to the time of individuals in the church where I serve. And so I am constantly asking, what is a reasonable amount of time to expect individuals to commit to the building of the Kingdom? On the one hand, I realize that all of our time is to be sacred/holy/Kingdom time, but being the pragmatic midwestern American that I am I cannot help but try to find a number to assign a value as a solution to this equation.
What do you think? How much of a commitment should we expect of ourselves? And what kind of activities count in that time? I really would like to know....
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
The Imperfect Church
A good friend of mine is wounded and bleeding right now. He was wrong. The church was wrong. And now there is nothing left but the wounds inflicted by well-meaning people who were all trying to do the right thing.
There is no mistaking this fact--we as the church--the ecclesia--the "called-out" ones, are a mess. We're trying so hard to be the Kingdom in this already/not yet world; trying to be the Body in an incarnational fashion but trying so hard to avoid the wounds; knowing that we should be open and vulnerable but cut down whenever we are.
"It's hard, so hard; you know it's hard to be like Jesus." (Rich Mullins was nothing if not a prophet)
We are truly on a journey together, bumbling and stumbling together. Sometimes we appear to have it together, but most of the time we are like tennis shoes thrown in the dryer, "full of sound and fury signifying nothing." I want to be more than that. I want the Church to be more than that. The potential is there, for success as well as for failure.
May God have mercy on us in the midst of our failures as he empowers us to be what He knows we can be.
There is no mistaking this fact--we as the church--the ecclesia--the "called-out" ones, are a mess. We're trying so hard to be the Kingdom in this already/not yet world; trying to be the Body in an incarnational fashion but trying so hard to avoid the wounds; knowing that we should be open and vulnerable but cut down whenever we are.
"It's hard, so hard; you know it's hard to be like Jesus." (Rich Mullins was nothing if not a prophet)
We are truly on a journey together, bumbling and stumbling together. Sometimes we appear to have it together, but most of the time we are like tennis shoes thrown in the dryer, "full of sound and fury signifying nothing." I want to be more than that. I want the Church to be more than that. The potential is there, for success as well as for failure.
May God have mercy on us in the midst of our failures as he empowers us to be what He knows we can be.
Monday, April 21, 2008
The "overweight" part
So lots of you have already commented on the "overweight" part of my self-description. You don't think I'm overweight. You think I look fine. You don't see any problem with my weight.
You also don't have to button my pants.
Yesterday morning I wore a pair of pants I purchased recently, and let's just say there's a reason I chose a shirt with a tail to be worn on the outside of the pants rather than the inside of the pants. Last night I tried to put on a pair of shorts and could not get them fastened.
I celebrated by eating a strawberry-rhubarb pie that someone left in my garage yesterday. Thank you to whoever that was--it was just what I needed yesterday.
Today I got up and began running again. I used to do this. Last December I was up to running nearly three miles a day when I got sick with the flu, and I have not been back to the running since. This morning I ran and walked alternating 1/4 mile laps, and I both ran and walked one mile each.
This is more than just being heavy. This is about being a good steward of my body. How can I have any credibility to chastise the diabetics in my congregation who do not watch their diets when I am just getting larger and larger? How can I stand beside someone in my congregation who is trying to overcome addictive behavior when all I do is eat to relieve stress?
And so here we go. What's the goal? It's nothing numerical--it's just to be faithful and obedient to the God who has entrusted me to care for this body in a way that honors him.
You also don't have to button my pants.
Yesterday morning I wore a pair of pants I purchased recently, and let's just say there's a reason I chose a shirt with a tail to be worn on the outside of the pants rather than the inside of the pants. Last night I tried to put on a pair of shorts and could not get them fastened.
I celebrated by eating a strawberry-rhubarb pie that someone left in my garage yesterday. Thank you to whoever that was--it was just what I needed yesterday.
Today I got up and began running again. I used to do this. Last December I was up to running nearly three miles a day when I got sick with the flu, and I have not been back to the running since. This morning I ran and walked alternating 1/4 mile laps, and I both ran and walked one mile each.
This is more than just being heavy. This is about being a good steward of my body. How can I have any credibility to chastise the diabetics in my congregation who do not watch their diets when I am just getting larger and larger? How can I stand beside someone in my congregation who is trying to overcome addictive behavior when all I do is eat to relieve stress?
And so here we go. What's the goal? It's nothing numerical--it's just to be faithful and obedient to the God who has entrusted me to care for this body in a way that honors him.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Drumming for Fun and Profit
I have been given several opportunities to play around the area this spring. In February I performed "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" with the Central Park Players in Grand Haven. Then, after that, I played "Bye, Bye Birdie" with the Mona Shores Allegros. Currently I'm in rehearsals for performances of "The Wizard of Oz" with Muskegon Civic Theatre.
One of the things I enjoy about being able to play musicals is the interaction that happens not only within the pit orchestra but also between the orchestra and the singers/actors on stage. We in the pit are the accompaniast, and we are charged with the task of following the whims of the singers, no matter where they may take us. This means that every show is different, no matter what is on the printed page. Of course, we are still expected to perform in a manner that is faithful to the notes in front of us, and so we must strike a balance between being literally accurate and, simultaneously, flexible enough to serve the desires of the performers on stage.
I find that I also like getting paid for playing, but that's another thought.
I am finding that my Trinitarian theology is demanding similar things of me. I have the notes in front of me. I can open the Word and see what I am supposed to do. But then there is that whole "inspired imagination" (thank you, Dick Thompson)that is led by the Spirit to live out those notes in a way that is, well, flexible. For me, that ambiguity is welcome. I like improv. For many of my friends, though, this can be problematic, for they seem more interested in rigidity than flexibility.
The winds of the Spirit are still blowing; and they will blow where they blow.
One of the things I enjoy about being able to play musicals is the interaction that happens not only within the pit orchestra but also between the orchestra and the singers/actors on stage. We in the pit are the accompaniast, and we are charged with the task of following the whims of the singers, no matter where they may take us. This means that every show is different, no matter what is on the printed page. Of course, we are still expected to perform in a manner that is faithful to the notes in front of us, and so we must strike a balance between being literally accurate and, simultaneously, flexible enough to serve the desires of the performers on stage.
I find that I also like getting paid for playing, but that's another thought.
I am finding that my Trinitarian theology is demanding similar things of me. I have the notes in front of me. I can open the Word and see what I am supposed to do. But then there is that whole "inspired imagination" (thank you, Dick Thompson)that is led by the Spirit to live out those notes in a way that is, well, flexible. For me, that ambiguity is welcome. I like improv. For many of my friends, though, this can be problematic, for they seem more interested in rigidity than flexibility.
The winds of the Spirit are still blowing; and they will blow where they blow.
Another Bike Ride
I have now officially ridden TWO DAYS IN A ROW!!!! That's a big deal for a big white guy like me! Yesterday afternoon my good friend Philip called to say, "It's a nice day outside...." I knew immediately what he meant, and so we made arrangements to ride the beautiful lakeshore trail, winding around Muskegon Lake.
To just clear the air on one thing--yes, it was windy....
I first started riding a year ago. It was my wife's fault--she determined that we buy bicycles for my birthday. It was really a brilliant idea, and I've been hooked ever since. Philip rode with me one time and he was also hooked, and he and I have enjoyed riding together, although I must confess that he rides a LOT more than I do.
Philip is 20 years younger than I am, and so any time we ride together it is with a great deal of trepidation. What if I can't keep up? What if his young legs will go farther than me? He also weighs a lot less than I do, which means less resistance, if you know what I mean.
As we were riding yesterday, I finally mustered the nerve to tell him this. His response was delightful: "Well, since this is the awkward part of the date, let me tell you that I was a bit nervous about keeping up with you, too." As it turns out, the pace we were riding seemed to be nearly perfect for both of us. We were able to ride and enjoy one another's company, challenging one another to do just a little bit better.
And becuase of this, I'm a bit stronger today than I was yesterday.
That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.
To just clear the air on one thing--yes, it was windy....
I first started riding a year ago. It was my wife's fault--she determined that we buy bicycles for my birthday. It was really a brilliant idea, and I've been hooked ever since. Philip rode with me one time and he was also hooked, and he and I have enjoyed riding together, although I must confess that he rides a LOT more than I do.
Philip is 20 years younger than I am, and so any time we ride together it is with a great deal of trepidation. What if I can't keep up? What if his young legs will go farther than me? He also weighs a lot less than I do, which means less resistance, if you know what I mean.
As we were riding yesterday, I finally mustered the nerve to tell him this. His response was delightful: "Well, since this is the awkward part of the date, let me tell you that I was a bit nervous about keeping up with you, too." As it turns out, the pace we were riding seemed to be nearly perfect for both of us. We were able to ride and enjoy one another's company, challenging one another to do just a little bit better.
And becuase of this, I'm a bit stronger today than I was yesterday.
That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.
Friday, April 18, 2008
I Smell Spring!
Living in Michigan, I have come to appreciate the significance of this annual event we call, "SPRING." The change in the smell of the air, the warming of the temperatures, the greening of the grass, and even the watering that comes to my eyes because of allergies all serve notice that things have changed. Winter is gone. Spring has come.
I suppose it's natural to think about things like new birth and hopefulness and all that stuff that sounds nice and fluffy for Christ-followers, but this spring has brought about a new ritual. Last year my wife, Becky, and I purchased bicycles. Neither of us are terribly athletic, and so this seemed like a nice opportunity for us to have something physical to do that would get us outside. And so we rode quite a bit last year until the seasons changed and we were forced to put the bikes aside for the snow and cold of winter.
Today I took my first real bicycle ride of the season. I suppose that common sense would dictate warming up at the beginning of the season by taking several short rides, but in my town spring calls us to the beach and shoreline of Lake Michigan. Anxious to see water I took off for the fourteen mile ride to the beach. The wind was not terribly strong but was awfully consistent and, naturally, blowing from all directions simultaneously, and I fought it during the entire 2 1/2 hour ride. Well, okay, maybe not for the entire ride.
There was one section of the ride where I realized that the wind was perfectly square to my back. The noise of the wind stopped, and I was able to pedal easily. There was no traffic on the road at that particular time and I made great time until I had to turn around and head face on directly back into the wind again.
I feel like I should make an observation about the Holy Spirit here, but the observation would be trite and inconsistent with my own life experience. I want the Holy Spirit to always be blowing easily at my back, propelling me forward in my journey, but I realize that often times the Holy Spirit blows against me, and not always because I'm heading the wrong direction. Sometimes it's just really hard to, well, live, and it can feel like the Spirit is slowing us down. What I have come to realize, though, is that my legs get a LOT stronger from riding into the wind then they do when the wind is at my back.
Now excuse me while I go put some Ben-Gay all over my body.
I suppose it's natural to think about things like new birth and hopefulness and all that stuff that sounds nice and fluffy for Christ-followers, but this spring has brought about a new ritual. Last year my wife, Becky, and I purchased bicycles. Neither of us are terribly athletic, and so this seemed like a nice opportunity for us to have something physical to do that would get us outside. And so we rode quite a bit last year until the seasons changed and we were forced to put the bikes aside for the snow and cold of winter.
Today I took my first real bicycle ride of the season. I suppose that common sense would dictate warming up at the beginning of the season by taking several short rides, but in my town spring calls us to the beach and shoreline of Lake Michigan. Anxious to see water I took off for the fourteen mile ride to the beach. The wind was not terribly strong but was awfully consistent and, naturally, blowing from all directions simultaneously, and I fought it during the entire 2 1/2 hour ride. Well, okay, maybe not for the entire ride.
There was one section of the ride where I realized that the wind was perfectly square to my back. The noise of the wind stopped, and I was able to pedal easily. There was no traffic on the road at that particular time and I made great time until I had to turn around and head face on directly back into the wind again.
I feel like I should make an observation about the Holy Spirit here, but the observation would be trite and inconsistent with my own life experience. I want the Holy Spirit to always be blowing easily at my back, propelling me forward in my journey, but I realize that often times the Holy Spirit blows against me, and not always because I'm heading the wrong direction. Sometimes it's just really hard to, well, live, and it can feel like the Spirit is slowing us down. What I have come to realize, though, is that my legs get a LOT stronger from riding into the wind then they do when the wind is at my back.
Now excuse me while I go put some Ben-Gay all over my body.
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