Rants, Raves, & Random Thoughts

When you're stuck in Phoenix

2012-01-27T00:49:00.000-08:00

Getting to Phoenix was easy. I printed my boarding pass from home. Got through security. Made a connection in Seattle. And landed.

However, there was one snag coming into Sky Harbor. The airport in Phoenix is currently limited to one runway due to construction. Because of their diminished capacity, we had to wait in a holding pattern until we got clearance to land. In case you don't know, a holding pattern is a fancy way of saying you're flying in circles for an indefinite period of time.

The return was not so easy. First dilemma: printing the boarding passes. I couldn't print anything from my hotel as I didn't have a computer. I could use my brother's computer, but his hotel's printing system would only let you print documents and would not allow me to print from a webpage. So, instead of printing my boarding pass the day before departure, I decided I'd just get it at the airport.

The second setback: that one measly runway. All flights in and out of Sky Harbor were delayed. The kind lady at the Alaska Airlines ticket counter explained that my PHX to SEA flight was delayed to the point that I would miss my connection to GEG. My scheduled flight into GEG was the last flight into Spokane. If I couldn't make that flight, I wouldn't be able to get home. The ticket agent called a supervisor, trying to find alternate flights through Portland but PDX was also having runway issues and delayed flights. Then the next option was for Alaska to pay for me to stay in a Seattle hotel room and catch a morning flight home.

I explained to the nice lady that I was supposed to be at work at 6am the next morning and I couldn't afford to stay overnight in Seattle.

With a little patience, I got the hookup. The supervisor decided they'd rather pay for me to fly on a different airline than pay for me to stay in a hotel. Thank you Alaska Airlines... you saved the day.

The good news, I would have a direct flight from PHX to GEG. The bad news, it was 5:30 and the new flight wasn't scheduled to start boarding until 9pm.

So, dinner to eat and time to waste. I kinda felt like Tom Hanks in The Terminal. Just stuck.

The TV was on at the gate. Unfortunately, it was the GOP Debate on CNN. I could think of no better way to spend the next couple of hours than to live blog the arguing between the candidates. (more on that another time)

When it was over, some thoughts were running through my head. I posted them on Twitter - to the extent that the 140 character limit would allow. But I figured I'd gather them here in complete formation.

I mostly know how I'm going to vote in November. Granted, that decision isn't set in stone and there's still time to change my mind. As I attempted to formulate a witty post-debate tweet, I began to ponder the irrelevance of my vote. Not from the cynical "my vote won't count so why bother" perspective, but from another place entirely.

And it's true. My vote won't matter - at least in Idaho. I could mark my vote down for a D or an R or any other letter and Idaho's four electoral college votes will go to the Republican candidate. However, I still believe that voting matters for the sake of civic duty even if your vote won't count.

My thoughts centered on irrelevance of the vote from a religious stand point.

As Christians, we should believe that God is in control of where our lives go. We should believe that He is on our side and no one can stand against us. We must believe that He will provide for our needs and grant our desires.

Yet it seems that many Christians don't live as if those words were true. It seems that the American dream is of greater importance than God's will. I've heard many believers say that Obama is ruining this nation. I've heard other Christians say that Bush drove our country into the ground and we can't survive another president like him. I tire of hearing Christians who worry about the fate of our nation if the wrong person is elected.

I began thinking that my vote is irrelevant because I don't really care who becomes our next president. I am committed to living out what I believe God has promised and if God is really in control, it shouldn't matter who becomes our next president.

Either you trust that God will take care of your needs or you don't. Either God is in control or you are. There is no middle ground. When you say that your choice in president is the correct choice because the other candidate will destroy America, you are no longer trusting God - you're trusting a political figure. You're trying to control your destiny.

If you say, "God will take care of me but only if so-and-so is president," then your faith is weak and you don't really trust God at all.

I believe that God is on my side. I believe that he will care for my every need. The person that is holding the office of the president does not dictate the scope, the duration, or the depth of God's extravagant love. If Barack Obama is re-elected, God will still love me and all of my needs will be met. If the eventual GOP candidate is elected instead, God will still love me and all of my needs will be met.

The promise that God will love you and care for you should be enough for any Christian - no matter who wins the votes.

Do go out and vote, and vote in the way that you believe God would want you to. But if the other guy wins, do not be afraid. God is still in control.

Hockey and Miracles: a guest post from my brother

2012-01-25T14:58:00.000-08:00

The year, 1980. I’m a spry 6+ years old. I hardly knew there was such a thing as Olympics. Heck, I didn’t even know that there was any sport outside of basketball in 1980. However, there was some sport called hockey that everyone was talking about. Not only were they talking about this sport, they were talking about a group of kids beating the Russians. Along with this chatter, people were excited about the call from the play by play guy announcing this apparent huge win. At just barely 6 years old, I didn’t have a clue what the excitement was all about.

Fast forward a few…several years. I didn’t gain a full appreciation of hockey until high school, I believe my senior year. Sure I knew what the sport was, and that Wayne Gretzky was the greatest player on the ice…and that there was a lot of fighting in the sport, but after that, I was a hockey idiot. Thanks to the sister I never had, Brenda, I became hooked on hockey. I learned the significance of that historic day, February 20, 1980. More importantly, I came to appreciate the call that forever changed hockey’s American lexicon, and the phrase that will never get old. “DO YOU BELIEVE IN MIRACLES?!?!?!?” Thank you, Al Michaels, for such a wonderful and timeless question in your commentary of the hockey world’s biggest upset.

Today, that simple commentary during a hockey game has been running through my head so many times. So many times, that I can almost hear Al in my head. Every time I hear the call, I simply come back and answer yes. Yes, I believe in miracles. Wait…make that with excitement, YES!

After meeting with Dr. Dickman, having another MRI, then meeting again with Dr. Dickman, he strongly encouraged there be no surgery. Janda and I agreed based on the assessment of how difficult a surgery and the risk involved in the surgery. Along with assessing the risk, we took into account the fact that the mass has significantly decreased in size from August to the MRI done on Monday.

Sure, the biopsy performed by Dr. Beer did cause the mass to get smaller, but not as small as what Dr. Dickman, Janda and I saw. The size difference was so noticeable that Janda and I could see it prior to Dr. Dickman pointing it out. Basically, we saw God’s miracle!

Despite the mass being smaller, there is still a fight to be fighting. I will now be looking for a radiation oncologist. I will now be going through a cyber knife treatment. We will be driving to and from either Denver or Salt Lake City for the treatments. No, we don’t know what this looks like or how long of a process it will be. What I do know is much less than what I don’t know. BUT, I can confirm I will be able to live with the same quality of life as what I am now. Any cyber knife treatment will be just as invasive, but less intensive in the long run. Lastly, we don’t know when this will start.

What a HUGE blessing this news has been and will be. I look forward to getting back home. I look forward to sharing this with those who have not heard. I especially look forward to hugging everyone when I see them. Most importantly, I look forward to asking people the same question Al Michaels asked America back in 1980.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN MIRACLES?!?!?!?!?

Aaron

If you're interested in reading through his journey so far, you can check out his caring bridge entries HERE.

such strange plants

2012-01-25T14:50:00.001-08:00

Monday Matinée - New Movie Review

2012-01-23T00:10:00.000-08:00

Bekah says it's the best movie she's seen in a long time. I concur. You can read my review HERE.

My brother, my hero

2012-01-21T13:17:00.000-08:00

Time is sort. In two days, I'll be joining my brother in Phoenix. On Tuesday he faces the first of two surgeries; the second happens on Wednesday. Even if all goes according to plan, my brother's life will be forever changed in a few short days.

I don't talk about Aaron much on this blog. Which is sad because he has been one of the biggest parts of my life. Growing up, he played three roles in my life: big brother, bodyguard, and best friend. I went to his graduation party. His friends had accepted me as their friends. We went to concerts an hockey games together. He got married a few days after my high school graduation and I stood beside him as his wife walked down the isle. But I moved to Boise and he moved to Cheyenne. It's been a dozen years since we lived within minutes of each other. Time and distance has changed our relationship, but it hasn't diminished the love between us.

To be honest, this next week scares the crap out of me. Cancer took my grandpa and I don't want to see it take my brother.

But not to get all somber on you. Some of my best memories are experiences with Aaron. He might not remember these stories, but I do. And they are some of my favorites. These remembrances make me smile and I hope they do the same for you.

By the time I entered kindergarten, Aaron was deemed old enough (he was in 5th grade) to escort me to soccer practice. So he rode his bike as I walked the mile to Liberty Elementary and sat in waiting for my team's practice to end. This was the highlight of my week as I was at the age where Aaron was the coolest person in the world. Only a year earlier, I had killed off his goldfish while he was at summer camp so I was happy he was willing to hang out with me.

After one of those practices, one of my teammates asked me about him. "Is that your dad?"

That would not be the first time someone would mistake him for my father.

One of the other occasions happened at a Nazarene youth event. I was in seventh grade and it was his senior year of high school. It was the one and only year that we were both in the youth group together.

Another church was hosting a concert and teens from dozens of churches across the district gathered for the show. I bumped into a friend that I knew from summer camp. He attended a different church so he didn't know my family.

The church was quiet in the minutes before the show; my brother interpreted the silence as boredom and decided to spice up the atmosphere. Aaron was always a little more daring than I and had no problems purposefully humiliating himself in public.

He and his friend Erik walked to the front of the church sanctuary. They split up - each taking a side of the room. Once they held their positions in front of the stage, Aaron shouted, "Tastes great!" To which Erik shouted the response, "Less Filling!"

They repeated this process until the rest of audience was engaged in the call and response - following the leader standing on their half of the sanctuary. The tagline of a beer commercial chanted in a Nazarene church. Erik and Aaron eventually returned to their seats. I spent most of the show sitting with my brother and when it was over, my friend from camp came up to me and told me, "I wish my dad was as cool as your dad."

"My dad isn't here." I said.

"Oh," he said. "Then who's that?" He was pointing at Aaron.

The Saltbox Tour came through Seattle and Aaron was a big fan of the heal\dlining band - Petra. This was a show that he had to see. He and I were both fans of the two opening bands - Johnny Q Public and Grammatrain. When the doors opened, we were among the first people to flood the floor of the Mercer Arena. We found a pair of seats five rows from the stage.

Grammatrain put on a fabulous show and Johnny Q came on stage after a quick set change. They played a few songs - Aaron and I knew the words to all of them. But we wanted to hear our favorite song: Scream. The had one more song to play and vocalist Dan Fritz began a brief monologue. The whole time he was talking, Aaron and I were shouting, "Scream. Scream." Over and over again. From what Fritz was saying, it sounded like he was introducing their cover of Bob Dylan's Serve Somebody, but we kept shouting our song request. Fritz changed his mind at the last moment. Instead of saying, "Sometimes, you gotta Serve Somebody," he said, "Sometimes, you just gotta Scream." Aaron and I went crazy as their guitarists quickly changed the settings on their effects pedals and started playing the opening riff of our favorite Johnny Q song.

Aaron took me to my first real rock concert as a gift for my 15th birthday. It was the Hardcore '94 tour - Blenderhead and Crashdog with a couple other bands.

The show was in an all ages venue tucked into the backroom of a dive bar off Alaskan Way on the Seattle waterfront. We had to walk through the bar to get to the standing room only concert hall. My eyes were wide open in awe as we passed through. Piercings and tattoos and blue hair everywhere. The performance room was not much different than the clientele in the bar. Ratty leather jackets. Chains. Sewn on Bad Brains and Op Ivy patches. Razor blade necklaces. I went to school with a couple of punk rockers, but I'd never seen such a large mass of hardcore kids in one place.

Aaron and I stood in the back against the wall. The bar's owner came onto the stage and explained some guidelines to the crowd. Moshing was allowed. So was crowd surfing. He didn't care if anyone climbed on stage to dive into the crowd. "But if anyone hits the floor," he said, "the show's over."

The first band came onto the stage and filled that room with screaming and distortion. Aaron and I sat back and watched as the most brutal mosh pit unfolded in front of us. In the years since, I've seen many mosh pits - but as violent as that one.

Unfortunately, I got nauseous that night. After the third of four bands played I could no longer stand. Instead of making me sit through the last set, Aaron sacrificed his enjoyment to leave early and take me home.

We didn't drive straight back to Marysville though. We stopped at Dick's on the way, which was a traditional stop for us anytime that we were in Seattle.

Our hometown had an annual shindig every summer: The Strawberry Festival. Trike races, talent show, pageant, parade, car show, vendor's market, etc. Because of this festival, Aaron loathes strawberries and shudders at the thought of eating that red fruit. Aaron and I, along with our dad, spent a few years as volunteer staff for the festival. We ran the vendor's market in Comeford Park and worked as parade security.

It was a few exhausting days starting on Thursday, working sunrise to midnight Friday and Saturday, then staying through cleanup on Sunday after the last vendor left. But there were perks. We met many wonderful crafts people and the food vendors often gave us freebies. And we usually received free carnival tickets as a thank you for our labor.

After one late night, we stopped at the Taco Bell a block north of the park before heading home. Aaron and I climbed into a car with two mutual friends and parked in the drive through. We explained that we would be placing four separate orders and each of the four of us placed special orders. Small drinks with no ice or large drinks with extra ice. Taco pizzas with no meat and extra guacamole. Tacos with no tomatoes and extra cheese. Tacos with no cheese and extra tomatoes. We sat in that drive through long enough that the car behind us shut off their engine. That car finally got tired of waiting, started their car up and put it into reverse. Just as they started to back up, we paid for and received the fourth of our four orders and drove away.

In the summer of 96, Aaron and I took one of the most ill fated road trips in human history. Aaron was still driving his first car - a Ford Lemon if memory serves me correctly. Our mom had flown out to Cheyenne stay with her parents for Frontier Days so we drove out to join her, determined to roll into the town of cowboys with gangster rap blasting from the car speakers.

The trip started well. As we started east on I-90, we kept a log of the amount and identity of each piece of roadkill strewn along side the freeway. We tore through Eastern Washington with a brief stop in Ellensburg. Once through Coeur d'Alene, he turned I-90 into a racetrack and straightened out every curve of the road as we rushed up into the Silver Valley. The original plan was to drive straight through to Chyenne, but by the time we reached Billings, Aaron was too tired to continue driving so he paid for a hotel room and we crashed for the night.

Billings was the first mishap in a long string of failures. In the morning, Aaron couldn't find his keys. I accidentally locked them in the car the night before.

After a Billings police officer helped us break into Aaron's car, we continued our journey. We drove the rest of the way with only one stop for gas.

The time we spent in Cheyenne was decent. We were offered tickets to go see Garth Brooks or some other big name country star. We would have gone, but mom wouldn't let us because she knew that we both hated country music and the only reason we wanted to go was so that we could start a mosh pit.

We spent a few days with Grandma and Grandpa Budd. Visited a few of the cousins. Enjoyed a few of the Frontier Days events. We left town taking I-80 west instead of returning the way we came.

We stopped in Meridian and stayed with a family that had gone to college with our dad. When we woke up the next morning, news of the bombing at the Atlanta Olympics was all over the news. We still had to get home, so stunned from the news we continued our westward trek.

The drive didn't last long. As we passed Caldwell, Aaron's car started making worrisome noises. Something popped and steam poured from under the hood. We rolled off the freeway at the next exit and the car sputtered to a stop at a no-name town south of Fruitland. Lucky for us, the place where the car died was a mechanic's shop. Unfortunately, it was not the kind of mechanic that had the parts needed to get Aaron's car road-worthy. He made a mickey-mouse fix that would make the car functional - but only for a short distance. The mechanic told us that the quick fix would not hold out long enough for us to reach home. We had to stop in Ontario for a real mechanic that had the parts we needed.

If you've ever been to Ontario, you'd know that it's a hot mess of a town. Even with directions to the better mechanic, we got lost. Once there, we had to wait for the repairs to be completed. And then we got lost again trying to find the freeway.

But the car was back into a healthy driving condition so it was nothing but open road between us and Seattle traffic. Except for one more hitch. As we crossed the Columbia river into Washington, Aaron sped up to make up for lost time. He was clocked doing 96 MPH by a police airplane. The airborne speed trap dispatched a state trooper who handed Aaron a hefty speeding ticket.

Yet with all that went wrong, that was one of the best vacations I ever endured.

Through those times, we never knew where life would bring us. We never imagined the doors that God would open for us. The trials that faced us. Or the joys we'd find in our kids. And we never anticipated that our lives would bring us to a hospital in Phoenix and the unknowns that lay beyond the next few days.

If I could ask one thing, please keep my brother and his family in your prayers through these next few weeks.

Leftovers from last night's storm

2012-01-18T05:36:00.000-08:00

Meet my brother, Aaron

2012-01-16T04:09:00.000-08:00

In one week I'll be in Phoenix to stand by my brother as he goes into surgery.

My mom and I will be there with Aaron and his wife. This is a scary time for all of us as we don't know how things will turn out. The operation is a known entity, but what happens after that is a big unknown.

Social Media’s Perfect Lie

2012-01-12T16:43:00.000-08:00

If all you do is follow my twitter feed, read this blog, and skim through my facebook posts, there are a few things you might come to believe a few partial truths.

You might think that my job is more entertaining than it really is. Don’t get me wrong, I have a good job. The company that I work for has been a supportive and challenging and a blessing for the past seven and a half years. My coworkers are a colorful cast of characters, but it’s not the never-ending wellspring of funny and peculiar people. While I find the innards of my job duties fascinating, the tedious details of what I do would bore most normal people. You might see the nerdy pop culture references and rick rolls scribbled on my dry erase board, but you don’t see the Excel formulas and SQL scripting. You’ll read about unfortunate typos I come across or odd comments I overhear, but you probably don’t understand that the moments of office hilarity are an infrequent occasion.

You might think that my kids are among the quirkiest and most well behaved children on the planet. Don’t get me wrong, they have their quirks and they usually maintain decent manners but they are not angels. Friends and coworkers often tell me how much they enjoy reading the “stuff my kids say” tweets. In reality, only a fraction of the funny stuff that comes out of my kids’ mouths makes it to twitter. Yet, for every laugh inducing or mind boggling phrase they speak, they’ll say an equal amount of words that are rude or disrespectful. You might read about JJ’s maniacal laughter after telling me how he is going to sit on my face, how my daughter wants to keep her bowling shoes, or how Christian hoped all the orphans could find a home before Christmas. But you haven’t read a post about them saying “I got the last spear of asparagus - that means you can’t have any more.” You haven’t read about the screaming and the tattling and cries about how life is unfair because one kid got to cuddle and another one didn’t. You might see pictures of them on Sunday morning before we go to church, but you don’t see photos of them on Sunday night when they’ve been wrestling all day and don’t want to go to bed.

You might think I live a intriguing life, that I am infinitely cool, and that my day to day experiences are filled with excitement. Don’t get me wrong, I try to be a captivating person, but I have a healthy self perspective. I'm not that interesting. You might see me post a few Star Wars or Lord of the Rings jokes, but you probably don’t realize that I’m a bigger geek in real life. You might see the #nowplaying hash tags in my twitter feed or read occasional song lyrics in my facebook status updates, but you probably know nothing of the hours I spend organizing my iTunes playlists like I have been clinically diagnosed with OCD. You might read about me playing my guitar, but you can’t hear my clumsy strumming patterns and I’ll probably never admit that I’m really not that good of a player. You’ll see foursquare check ins when I’m at the theater or the bowling alley or the Tillamook Cheese factory, but you won’t ever see a check in for when I’m mowing the lawn and you probably don’t realize that a majority of my time is spent at home or at work. You might know that I play video games, but you probably don’t realize that I play Sudoku or Angry Birds as much as I play Call of Duty or Dead Island. You’ll see me post comments about karate practice, yoga, and brisk evening walks, but I rarely mention that I’m still horribly out of shape. For every witty post that I write online, I say three or four remarks that makes Bekah roll her eyes in a combination of dismay and concern for my sanity. It might seem like I usually look on the bright side of life, but I’m jaded and cynical.

This online world we inhabit creates a abnormal microcosm where appearance is only a filter of what truly exists. We get to share our joy and pains to the extent we wish them to be known. We are given the freedom to mold our image into whatever shape we desire. We can accentuate the best of who we are, exaggerate choice bits of personality, and trim out the parts of our being that we don’t like. We describe events like a highlight reel and pass it off as the definitive history of our life. I use social media to make me look more interesting than I really am.

But here are some truths that I hope don’t get lost in the alternate reality of social media.

I adore my wife. I'll admit that marriage isn't easy but I couldn't imagine a world without her. Through trials and tribulations, she's stood by me. She's given me strength and forced me to be a better husband, a better father, and a better man.

My kids are my world. Even in their most aggravating or obnoxious states, they light up my life. They bring me joy and contentment I never understood before they came into existence.

My life is truly blessed. It is complicated. At times it is stressful. I have been broken and downtrodden. Bekah and I have been through hardships that I could never fully describe. Yet through it all, God has taken care of us. (At the risk of sounding cheesy) we've never had everything we've wanted, but we've had everything we needed.

I am thankful for the people in my life. The dad's group that I play poker with once a month: they understand the challenges I face raising a kid with aspergers because they also have kids on the autism spectrum. The kids on my quizzing team: they make me feel young and relevant. My team at work: my boss is committed to my professional growth and my peers match if not outshine my geekiness. My family: in all their eccentricities, they make me me. A few key friendships: they keep me grounded an sane.

It is possible that the above truths get lost or over looked in the lies of social media. It's not really a blatant falsehood; there isn't an intent to deceive. That's what makes it a perfect lie. The story I tell is not complete. It's only a part of my life's narrative - and really it's only the parts I want you to see.

I will continue to tell that perfect lie, these half truths. Because when I'm gone, I'd rather you remember the funny things my kids say. I'd rather you remember the victories I celebrate. I'd rather you remember the best version of myself that I can portray.

Whether the works of God or man

2012-01-09T04:23:00.000-08:00

We live in a beautiful world.

Time is Nothing // Around The World Time Lapse from Kien Lam on Vimeo.

After Kien quit his job, he packed up and bought a one way ticket to London. He made a few extra stops along the way. 17 Countries. 343 Days. 6237 Photographs. One incredible journey.

To follow the journey and learn more about each scene visit www.kienlam.net.

State of the Blog 2011

2012-01-06T20:57:00.000-08:00

I don’t consider this a high traffic blog, and perhaps I never will. I’m OK with that. So, when I look at Google Analytics, it’s not an exercise in self congratulatory ego-tripping or a lesson in attracting more readers. It’s not about the numbers. Well, it is about the numbers, but mostly from the perspective of pure fascination. The data analyst in me geeks out over the rise and fall of the line graphs. I am amused by the various methods people use to find my blog and by the little orange dots left in their wake - scattered across the map.

Take a look back with me over the past year. Here’s a quick pulse of my little corner of the interwebs.

Where visitors are coming from:
Top 10 nations (other than the United States) that visited RR&RT
1. United Kingdom
2. Canada
3. Philippines
4. Australia
5. Russia (In communist Russia, blog reads you)*
6. India
7. Brazil
8. Indonesia
9. Iraq
10. Germany
Top 5 states that visited RR&RT
1. Idaho (for obvious reasons)
2. Washington
3. Wyoming
4. California
5. New York
Top 5 domestic cities that visited RR&RT (other than C’dA/Hayden/Post Falls)
1. Cheyenne
2. Spokane
3. Oklahoma
4. Seattle
5. Moscow
Top 5 foreign cities that visited RR&RT
1. Makhachkala
2. Manila
3. As Sulaymaniyah
4. London
5. Sydney

How visitors got here:
Top sites that linked to RR&RT
1. Spokesman Review/Huckleberries Online
2. Ragamuffin Soul
3. Live a Life Worthy
4. Absurd Intellectual
5. An Idol Heart
Top 10 queries people googled that led to RR&RT (not including people that searched for my name)
1. Inhaling Dish soap: sniffing cascade, is it bad to snort dishwashing detergent, dangers of inhaling cascade detergent, cascade dishwasher detergent snorted, accidentally inhaled dishwashing powder, etc.**
2. Anything having to do with bricks: wall of bricks, bricks and springs, bricks perspective, old bricks, etc.)
3. Lambang (Malaysian word for “emblem”) or some variation: lambang game, lambang guitar, lambang memories, lambang sulap, etc.***
4. Some combination of Jack Johnson and Pandora
5. Law Abiding Citizen – thoughts about, the sociology, plot points, etc.
6. Ryan Jabaay
7. Instructions or ideas for playing Two Truths and a Lie
8. Reasons to support universal health care
9. Musicphile
10. Men in Black
The oddest search engine queries that led to RR&RT
1. how hegemony is related to the song "my humps"
2. is panda saliva is flammable and explosive
3. rave 90s party how to dress guy
4. the symbol of um
5. what would buddha do to stupid people
Search queries that led to my blog instead of my doppelganger
1. nic casey biologist
2. nic casey uconn
The search query that should be my tagline
1. the greatness of random things

What visitors find:
RR&T's 10 most frequently viewed posts of 2011 (read, but not necessarily written in 2011)
1. Bricks vs. Springs and the Glory of it all
2. The unexpected side effects of inhaling Cascade dishwasher detergent
3. Blogfest's pictorial review
4. RE: the JFAC hearings
5. Five for Friday (restaurants)
6. The good guys dress in black
7. Why I support Universal Health Care
8. The Google needs game
9. Pandora and the ever-present Jack Johnson
10. There is always a story

Other cool stuff from the year:
1. The most trivial thing that I got excited about: David Slack, producer of two of my favorite shows (Person of Interest & Lie To Me) retweeted me. Which tweet? THIS ONE.
2. The most legitimately exciting thing that I got excited about: THIS POST from my sister-in-law.
3. The best blog post I read all year: READ IT

What does 2012 have planned?

* Sorry, I couldn’t resist.
** It disturbs me that more people find my blog because they snorted dish soap (either on purpose or accidentally) than for any other reason.
*** This post is the first time the word “Lambang” has appeared on my blog. I don’t know how so many people find this blog by searching for it.

Yes, this is a real thing.

2012-01-04T04:24:00.000-08:00

Monday Movie - new review

2012-01-02T22:05:00.000-08:00

You can read my review HERE, but be warned - this is not your typical feelgood holiday movie fare.

Behold, I make everything new

2012-01-01T20:41:00.000-08:00

Winter is a time of change. We celebrate the birth of a remarkable child - and the understanding that He was born to be a sacrifice so that we could live. We celebrate the passing of an old year and look forward to the new with hope and yearning that the next one will be better than the last. Snow falls, kids play, and we stand in awe of the beauty of nature. We long for peace and wait for spring, it is a season of renewal.

Winter is my favorite season. Nothing reminds me more of God's grace than a freshly fallen layer of snow. Snow covers without discrimination: grey streets with oil stains and potholes; yards, both unkempt and manicured; homes, both mansions and shacks. The dirtiness of this world, a human creation, is cleansed - renewed - by snow. It is God's reminder that He can do the same in our lives.

Winter helps me understand David's words in Psalms: wash me, and I will be whiter than snow, and later Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. We may wreck our lives. We may come to God in tatters, dirty, and broken. Yet, through the birth of the Christ child, His life, and His ultimate sacrifice, we can be renewed.

So this winter, I will celebrate more than just the manger, but also the cross. I will observe more than a new year, but a new life. I will embrace change and renewal. This season will be a reminder of God's enduring promises: Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; and I am making all things new.

(Originally posted on What's Inside on 12/7/08)

New Year's Reading

2011-12-31T16:43:00.000-08:00

I don't know how you'll be spending your new year, but I'll be spending mine in the written word. Here are five things that will be keeping me busy over the next couple of months.

1. The Stand by Stephen King

2. Crazy Love by Francis Chan

3. unchristian by David Kinnaman

4. The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie

5. My Kindle. It was a Christmas present. On it is Stephen King's 11/22/63, Dean Koontz's Shadow Street, Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter, The Next Christians by Gabe Lyons, and a half-dozen novellas/short stories.

What's in your book stack?

Merry Christmas from the Casey family

2011-12-25T20:36:00.000-08:00

And the cutest kids in the universe. Of course, I may be biased.

Hugo: preview and review

2011-12-19T19:45:00.001-08:00

Go see this movie. And read my review HERE.

All I want for Christmas

2011-12-15T19:59:00.000-08:00

A while back, Nintendo partnered with West Coast Customs to construct a working life-sized Mario Kart go cart.

And now, Gamestop is giving one away as a part of their PowerUp Rewards program.

I told my wife about it yesterday and did my best to describe the epic-ness of such a prize. It didn't go so well. The conversation went something like this...

Me: Hey, if we buy or trade a game at Gamestop, we'll be entered to win this full sized Mario Kart.
Bekah: (pitiless sarcasm) Ooooohhh.
Me: Wouldn't that be awesome? Christian would love it.
Bekah: Who in their right mind would want one of those? What would anyone do with it?
Me: I'd drive it to work.

She proceeded to mock me.

winter bird

2011-12-07T04:23:00.000-08:00

Hijinks

2011-12-06T18:45:00.000-08:00

If you were following my twitter/facebook feed on Saturday night, you may have noticed the following updates.

• I actually broke a sweat playing ping pong. On the plus side, I won.
• Feels like should be midnight. #dang
• Been playing air hockey & ping pong with the kids for the past two hours. #ImGettingTooOldForThis
• However, I took a break from the fun & games for highjinks that may or may not have included toilet paper. #AlsoFun
• For the record, toilet paper was involved. Lots of it. There are pictures.

Pictures were promised and I deliver.

I told Bekah about our plans via text message.

Which leads to one of the other tweets you may have seen from me:

• "Are you one of the adults?" question someone just asked me. #hehe #thanks

Revisionist History

2011-12-01T04:34:00.000-08:00

The following email conversation is one I actually had yesterday. The name has been changed to protect his ego.

From: Nicholas Casey
Sent: Wednesday, November 30
To: Coworkers
Subject: Message about Einstein

(company related jargon)

From: Odie
Sent: Wednesday, November 30
To: Nicholas Casey
Subject: RE: Message about Einstein

Einstein has been dead for over a 100 years. I am pretty sure everyone knows already he went down.

From: Nicholas Casey
Sent: Wednesday, November 30
To: Odie
Subject: RE: Message about Einstein

Actually, it’s only been just over 55 years, and it was from an abdominal aortic aneurysm.

From: Odie
Sent: Wednesday, November 30
To: Nicholas Casey
Subject: RE: Message about Einstein

Really? Lol I thought he died like forever ago. How long has the light bulb been out then?

From: Nicholas Casey
Sent: Wednesday, November 30
To: Odie
Subject: RE: Message about Einstein

That was Thomas Edison. His light bulb came out in 1879, but he wasn't the first to invent the light bulb. He died 80 years ago from diabetes.

He never replied to that last email.

Nicht rasieren November, Teil zwei

2011-11-30T19:51:00.000-08:00

No Shave November has finally come to an end. Das Ende, el final, till slutet. A full month plus a week's worth of growth - it had to go. Stat.

My brother-in-law challenged me to a duel of sorts. In his words: "You have to shave it into a moustache first. I'll do it if you will."

Deal. Game on.

So I grabbed my weapon of choice.

A few minutes later I had a fierce mustache. And since Dan lives by the "pics or it didn't happen" rule, I present you with the photographic evidence.

Alas, the chimo-stache had to go. I'd rather avoid my wife's disproving glare. It's all gone now. I am no longer sasquatch. I am human.

Although, it should be noted that Bekah isn't a fan of this 100% clean shaven look either. She says it makes me look too much like my brother.

To see how my brother in law is doing ...
Part ONE.
Part TWO.
Part THREE.
Part FOUR.
Part FIVE.
Part SIX.

(ps, if you're not following him on twitter, you should.)

Das Ende: Nicht rasieren November

2011-11-30T05:41:00.000-08:00

Things my daughter is thankful for

2011-11-25T18:32:00.000-08:00

Zu's class made a Thanksgiving art project writing the things they're thankful for on leafs.

In case you can't read the writing from the picture, below are the things she is glad to have in her life. This is the inner workings of my 4 & 1/2 year old little girl's mind.

Mom:
"I love her snuggles. I'm Thankful for her hugs and kisses."

Dad:
"I'm thankful for when my dad hugs me really tight and when he lets me draw a unicorn."*

Christian:
"I'm thankful for when he jumps on the trampoline with me and for when he plays chase and tries to catch me."

JJ
"I'm thankful for when he likes to wrestle with me and when we eat apples together."

Grandma & Grandpa:
"I'm thankful for when Grandma gives me licorice and when she and I go on special dates. I'm thankful for when Grandpa hugs me and snuggles me and throws me up in the air.

* I do not recall ever letting her draw unicorns. I don't remember prohibiting it either.

Animals

2011-11-24T00:53:00.000-08:00

Seeing this face brings me joy. I grew up watching the Muppets (and Fraggle Rock). There is a soft spot in my heart for those furry hippy monsters. But none of those puppets can coax a smile out of me like Animal. That unkempt, crazy-eyed, blundering, red-furred fool.

He's the only Muppet that could coast through an entire movie without uttering a single sentence until he shouts out one word, the best line in the whole movie: "QUIET!"

Audiences love Animal, but he exasperates the rest of the Muppet gang. He's not eloquent with his speech. He's loud and obnoxious. He's socially awkward. He always seems to cause trouble for himself and/or others. He breaks things. He walks into walls. It's difficult to be friends with a friend like Animal.

But if you dig deeper, there's a wholly different creature behind Animal's animal tenancies. He has a passion for music and is deeply spiritual. He had a kind soul; he wanted to help out and be of good use. He just wanted to belong.

Looking back at my younger years, it's easy to see that I was Animal. I have previously explained my outcast status - a geek in a crowd of cool kids. I was loud and obnoxious. I could never manage to find the right words to say. I was socially awkward and got into a lot of trouble. I got picked on and bullied - some of which I probably deserved. I instigated fights and got the crap beat out of me. Through it all, I just wanted to fit in.

Thankfully I found an outlet. An art teacher who believed in me. A theater director who was willing to give me a chance to be a part of something awesome. A few good friends who were outcasts in their own way. Creative and musical roommates that were willing to help me grow. And an amazing wife who refuses to give up on this animal.

These days, I look at my oldest son and see Animal's goofy grin superimposed over his face. Sometimes I see that my boy's blonde hair and blue eyes have been replaced with uncontrollable red fur and a wild stare.

He shares my genetic make up and is predisposed to many of the same temperaments that I've struggled with. And he has Aspergers. Whatever challenges I faced will be exponentially harder for him. He all ready displays inadequate social aptitude. He's clumsy, full of energy, loud, and constantly blurts out what ever thoughts cross his mind. He loves people and doesn't understand how others might not appreciate him and his quirks.

The most difficult aspect of life with Christian is that he does not recognize the impact his words and actions have on others. He can pull a bar stool out from under his sister because she's not supposed to be sitting on it, then wonder why she's crying. Not only is he skilled at annoying others, he lacks the ability to discern when he's causing others to be annoyed.

But there's more to him. Christian is smart. Not just the good at school kind of smart, but ridiculously intelligent. His grasp on science and math is scary yet amazing. His reading skills are the best in his class. He's artistic and imaginative. Give him a cache of art supplies and he will spend hours creating pictures and projects. He has moments of greatness that make me believe he is capable of conquering the world. I know he's smarter than I was at that age. I can see a future grown up version of Christian directing blockbusters and Oscar nominated film. Or rescuing endangered creatures from the most remote corners of Earth.

It's those other moments that discourage me. Those moments he inadvertently hurts his friend's feelings. Those moments that he is so lost in his own world that he can't get ready for school, or set the dining room table. Those moments where he falls apart because he can't remember where he left his shoes. Or those moments where he is pestering his younger siblings and won't stop.

That's my Animal.

Sometimes it's hard to look past the insanity. Sometimes I look at Christian and I see an obnoxious creature who breaks things and walks into walls.

He craves second chances. One of his favorite lines (usually uttered in those moments between a bad choice and the punishment): "Don't I get a second chance?"

No, he still needs to go to his room. Or he is still going to be grounded from his Wii. He still has to face the consequences of his actions.

"But," he'll protest, "God gives us second chances."

I am not naturally a gracious person but my son is teaching me more about grace than he may ever comprehend. I know that second chances made me the man I am today, and Christian is now altering my definition of second chances.

A second chance isn't permission to re-offend. It is unending forgiveness.
A second chance isn't a prevention of consequence. It's a strong hand to help you carry your burdens.
A second chance isn't always immediate. It has it's own timing.
A second chance doesn't say "Do whatever you want." It says, "I'll love you no matter what you do."

Christian is in frequent need of grace. He is lost without second chances. Through this he is forcing me to be a better dad.

It's not easy raising an Animal, but I love him. I am thankful for the Animal in my life.

(The image at the top of this post is a part of People of the Second Chance's Never Beyond Series. Read more at POTSC)

Could we please have the snow back?

2011-11-23T06:50:00.000-08:00

Winter driving tips (bonus post)

2011-11-18T22:10:00.000-08:00

If my last post didn't explain clearly enough, we in the Spokane/Coeur d'Alene area have our first significant snowfall of the year. And the city street crews have done little to nothing to make the road passable. To complicate matters, drivers around here have what I refer to as Collective Seasonal Amnesia (or CSA). CSA is what happens when large portions of the population completely forget how to drive in wintry conditions.

To help you avoid the symptoms of CSA, I present you with the following driving tips.

1. Slow Down.
When the roads are covered with mirror smooth ice, the posted speed limit is probably too fast for the conditions. Just because you can go a certain speed, doesn't mean you should. If you're travelling in a straight line and feel your traction slip, you're going too fast. Drive slower on snow than you would on dry roads.

2. Ease Up.
Use your gas pedal with a gentle touch. Pulling out of your driveway is not the start of a drag race. Leaving a stop sign should be done with care to the ice beneath you, not with the pedal pressed through the floorboards. Ease up off that gas pedal.

3. Ease In.
It takes longer to come to a complete stop on wet roads - even longer on compact snow and ice. Give yourself plenty of room to slow down. Ease into a complete stop. And for the love of all that's good and holy, do not slam on your brakes.

4. Back Off.
You shouldn't tailgate others on dry roads. That rule is truer on ice. If you can not see the treads of the car in front of you, you are following too close. If you can read the speedometer of the person you're following, you're tailgating. You are not a hemorrhoid, get off that person's back end. Back away; give yourself space to stop in case the driver in front of you has to stop.

5. Plan Out.
If you're driving slower, taking more time to start/stop, and giving more space between you and other drivers, your drive is going to take longer. Plan ahead, leaver earlier, and make sure you have enough time to safely reach your destination.

Recipe for a beautiful disaster

2011-11-18T21:46:00.000-08:00

As I write this the Inland Northwest is blanketed under a lovely pile of frozen precipitation, Highway 95 is a mess, sections of I-90 are shut down due to spun out cars, and Spokane authorities are dealing with a 17 car pile-up on the South Hill. Ah, snow. The strange dichotomy of beautiful scenery and merciless carnage.

I'm not sure how much of the chaos could have been negated. It's not like we didn't know this was coming. It's not like every meteorologist from every major network predicted a hefty winter storm. Oh, wait. It was forecast. We had ample warning.

So, here's a five step recipe for disaster in the face of post-card worthy weather.

1. Wait until there is 4 to 8 inches of snow on the ground before reacting.

2. Keep plowing to a minimum. Allow local traffic to melt, compact, and/or slushify the snow covered roadways.

3. Do not sand. Avoid all de-icing measures.

4. Spend the day watching feather textured flakes fall from the sky while temperatures hover at 32°.

5. Continue to do nothing to improve road conditions as temperatures drop into the teens, turning every paved surface into a skating rink for 4,000 pound metallic beasts.

ps: if slushify isn't a real word, it should be.

Christian's Lego Art

2011-11-16T16:49:00.000-08:00

Adoption stories

2011-11-14T06:04:00.000-08:00

If you know our family you know why stories like the one below are important to us. Because of two special treasures in our lives, we will always be advocates for those willing to open their hearts for kids needing a home.

"One Less" by Matthew West - The Story Behind the Song from Digital Accounts on Vimeo.

The System is Broken

2011-11-08T15:03:00.000-08:00

Today is election day. In the Cd'A area we're looking at municipal races. A year from now, we'll be heading to the polls for another presidential election. It seems like now is an appropriate time to analyze all that is wrong in the world of politics.

Those that are running for office (and to a lesser extent those that are dialed in to the political realms) are swinging from one of two irreconcilable extremes. Those differences can easily be broken down with the issues below. Prepare for some gross over-generalizations.

The Role of Government:

The liberal view: The public sector can do everything better than the private sector.

The conservative view: The private sector can do everything better than the public sector.

Public Education:

The liberal view: Our schools are broken, we should do the same thing we've always done - just with more money.

The conservative view: Our schools are broken, we should get rid of them and force everyone to pay for private education.

Government regulations:

The liberal view: The government should have no control of moral issues, but they should regulate everything else.

The conservative view: The government should have no control over any aspect of our lives, except for moral issues.

Class Warfare:

The liberal view: The rich have exploited every loophole at the expense of the poor.

The conservative view: The poor are lazy moochers at the expense of the rich.

Grassroots Organizations:

The liberal view: The Tea Party is composed of racists that are ignorant of history.

The conservative view: OWS protesters are a bunch of disorganized and violent anarchists.

Taxes:

The liberal view: It's a necessary evil. We need more.

The conservative view: It's an unnecessary evil. We need less.

Social Services:

The liberal view: The disadvantaged are incapable of success with out it.

The conservative view: The disadvantaged are incapable of success because of it.

Opposing Viewpoints:

The liberal view: Conservatives are brainless morons who must be stopped at all costs.

The conservative view: Liberals are vile and manipulative morons who must be stopped at all costs.

Problem number one: The majority of Americans do not exist at either end of the red and blue spectrum. The majority live in that vast purple area between the two extremes.

Problem number two: Politicians that enter the playing field from that purple area are unelectable. They are vilified as a DINO or a RINO and are ostracized by their own party. With out partisan support, they face an uphill battle running as an independent candidate.

Problem number three: Those that live purple don't vote purple. We continue to support the crazy ideologues pandering to the wackiest segment of their own party. This insanity exists because we continue to support it year after year with blind strait party voting habits.

Last Leaf

2011-11-07T17:33:00.000-08:00

Spreading the pumpkin love

2011-10-31T20:57:00.000-07:00

From our family to yours, have a wonderful autumn season.

Happy Halloween

2011-10-31T05:29:00.000-07:00

Dirt Devil-The Exorcist from MrPrice2U on Vimeo.

Have a safe and fun holiday.

.

Occupy Wall Street: Better Methods

2011-10-29T00:39:00.000-07:00

Cold weather is coming. On the left coast, our forecast is a La Nina winter: frigid and wet. Despite the insistence of OWS organizers, it won't surprise me to see the number of occupiers dwindle of the the next month.

I've never understood the value of protests - at least not in it's modern incarnation. The practice has lost it's swagger since the days of the civil rights movement. Sure it gives you attention, but your voice could easily be drowned out by those who disagree with you. As for long term impact, the results of the OWS protests remain to be seen. But if recent history proves anything, I'm not anticipating much.

Protesting can be a thrill, but if you really want to change the way corporate America functions, there are better options than standing on public property holding up poignant signs.

1. Get your money out of the major banks. Close your accounts with banks that got bailouts. Move your funds to regional banks or local credit unions.

2. Shop local and/or buy used. Buy as much as you can from local retailers. Support community farmer's markets. Avoid fast food. Patronize thrift stores. If there is something that you can't find locally, buy it used or second-hand. (ps, you can still find name-brand items through local merchants or second hand retail - it just takes a little more effort.)

3. Find an alternative commute. Use public transportation. Carpool. Walk. Ride a bike. Invent a teleporter. OK, I was just joking about that last one. Kidding aside, find ways to use less gas and limit wear and tear on your own vehicle.

4. Support local artists. Watching open mic night at a coffee shop is far more affordable than catching a movie at the nearest cinema. You might not be able to go see a play on Broadway, but you can see a show at a local playhouse. Visit your local galleries, find ways to see a local band play live, hire local photographers instead of going to a chain portrait studio. This does more than provide us alternate entertainment options, it increases opportunities for our kids. Studies have shown that students involved in the arts perform better academically, they develop creative problem solving skills, and are more likely to become leaders in their community. We can give our kids tools to make this a better world.

5. Give. Be generous. Give your time, your money, your resources. Donate to charities and food banks. Volunteer your time at homeless shelters, retirement home, or youth centers. Cook a meal for someone who needs it. Help your neighbors. The possibilities are bountiful. The free gift of your time and energy, your funds and goods is the polar opposite of greed. It's illogical from the viewpoint of how capitalism works, but generosity can be the catalyst for something bigger than you could ever imagine.

So do that. If you really want to occupy Wall Street, do the above. Not only will you be cutting into Wall Street's pocket books - but you'll be making a positive impact in your own community and improving your own physical, emotional, and financial health.

Inertia vs. Initiative

2011-10-25T22:40:00.000-07:00

In his book Understanding Physics Isaac Asimov said "This tendency for motion (or for rest) to maintain itself steadily unless made to do otherwise by some interfering force can be viewed as a kind of 'laziness,' a kind of unwillingness to make a change. And indeed, [Newton's] first law of motion is referred to as the principle of inertia, from a Latin word meaning 'idleness' or 'laziness.'"

This view of inertia is, to a large extent, defining of human nature. To do nothing, or at minimum, to do what has always been done. Is it possible to undertake significant accomplishments while doing little more than maintaining status quo? Dave Anderson, a writer and motivational speaker, suggests that you can only achieve your personal best when you do something different, out of the ordinary that challenges the norm.

As Christians, we should always strive to do our personal best. There should be a desire inside us to accomplish great things. God wants us to change the world.

But somewhere we have failed that mission. We wake up and begin our routine; juggling work, home, school, church, family and friends. We are compelled to work because we need the paycheck, we spend time with friends so they don't hate us, we feel obligated to go to church because that is what good Christians do. But if we go through life as if it is a to-do list, we have failed to see the big picture. Much like Peter, we end up sinking when we could be walking on water.

Our faith requires initiative. Wiktionary.org defines initiative as a first move, a fresh approach, the ability to act first or on one's one. Without this first move, this action, our faith is dead. We must step outside of the usual to truly accomplish what God wants to do in and through our lives.

Hebrews 11 gives us great examples of what can happen when we make changes to our routines and allow God to do extraordinary things. We build boats. We leave our homes, not necessarily knowing our destination. We leave a legacy. We worship God, bless and inspire others. We conquer and are spared. We see more than just the here and now.

God has great things planned for us but we still need to do our part. Life is supposed to be an uphill battle. It is through this difficulty that we are able to attain our greatest accomplishments, prove our faith is genuine, and ultimately how we give honor to God.

It is much easier to stand still. To do nothing. Coasting is uncomplicated because it is all downhill. The cost of not taking the initiative and breaking the standards is a great loss. We deny our savior and friend. We run away. We fall prey to our own selfish and sinful desires.

The first law of motion states Every body perseveres in its state of being at rest or of moving uniformly straight ahead, except insofar as it is compelled to change its state by forces impressed. Are you compelled to change?

We must put action to our faith and not be lazy. At the risk of losing comfort and complacency, do something different. Let God enact something amazing with your life.

(Originally posted on What's Inside on 8/17/06)

Valley of Dry Bones

2011-10-24T17:34:00.000-07:00

This short film dramatizes one of my favorite scriptures. Regardless of your religious beliefs, this clip is visually stunning. You will want to watch it in full screen (the four arrows to the right of the HD logo).

Dry Bones from danDifelice on Vimeo.

The rest of the passage (not included in the video) is a message of hope: "They say, ‘Our bones are dried up and our hope is gone; we are cut off.’ Therefore prophesy and say to them: ‘This is what the Sovereign LORD says: My people, I am going to open your graves and bring you up from them ... I will put my Spirit in you and you will live, and I will settle you in your own land. Then you will know that I the LORD have spoken, and I have done it, declares the LORD.'" (Ezekiel 37:1-14)

Multnomah Falls

2011-10-23T20:18:00.000-07:00

I meant to post this on Friday, but lets just say it was a crazy weekend. Ending to this blog was the last thing on my mind. That being said, here are the five best pictures I took during a break at Multnomah Falls last weekend.

I can't wait to go back with the kids as see their eyes fill up with wonder.

Meet Bob

2011-10-17T05:42:00.000-07:00

Be sure to watch until after the credits.

BOB from Jacob Frey on Vimeo.

Testing, this is only a test

2011-10-13T18:49:00.000-07:00

This is a test of the blogging from my iPhone system.

I will be taking a few weekend road trips over the next several months and I wanted to test my ability to compose and post blog entries from my phone. The first trip starts tomorrow; I'm off to Portland and my phone will be my only connection to the interwebs until Sunday night.

By all appearances, this test was successful. I take no responsibility for any autocorrect failures.

Keep an eye on my twitter feed (@niccasey) as I will be tweeting until my battery dies or we lose cell reception.

Dracula in Under 2 Minutes

2011-10-10T21:19:00.000-07:00

I just finished reading Bram Stoker's Dracula. To celebrate, I present you with this, the simplest retelling ever.

Why I love being a dad

2011-10-08T18:24:00.000-07:00

Christian: Chocolate and milk go together. When you mix milk with chocolate, you get chocolate milk.

Me: Actually, Christian, bananas and peanut butter make chocolate milk.

Christian: Huh?

Me: That's how you make chocolate milk, you mix bananas and peanut butter together.

(He pauses for a few moments and studies my expression to see if there's any hint of deception)

Christian: Are you joking?

(I just smile)

Christian: You ARE joking!

What I've learned from Ke$ha's music

2011-10-07T20:24:00.000-07:00

My brother-in-law believes that you should never take an artist with symbols in their name seriously. I think he’s on to something. All I’ve ever learned from listening to Ke$ha is that she has a stuttering problem.

Don’t believe me? Consider the following evidence – lyrics as sung (autotuned?) by Ke$ha:

1. We R Who we R
“Tonight we’re going har har-har ha-ha-hard
Just like the world is our our-our our-our-ours
We’re tearin’ it apart part-part pa-pa-part…
We’re dancing like we’re dum dum-dum dum-dum-dumb
Our bodies go num num-num num-num-numb
We’ll be forever youn youn-youn youn-youn-young”

2. Blah Blah Blah
“Stah stop tah talking that
Blah blah blah…
Not in the back of my
Car-ar-ar”

3. Tik Tok
“I'm talkin pedicure on our toes toes
Tryin on all our clothes clothes
Boys blowin' up our phones phones”

4. Crazy Beautiful Life
“I’m in love all ri-i-i-ight”

5. Blow
“This place about to blow-oh-oh oh oh oh…
Go, go, go, go insane, go insane
Throw some glitter, make it rain on 'em
Let me see them hands, let me, let me see them hands”

Please, America… stop giving money to these hacks. Only you can prevent poor artistry.

Revenge of the Nerds

2011-10-03T20:28:00.000-07:00

Boss (to coworker): It's just the nature of the job we do. We're not like a bunch of frat boys or anything. (pause) Well, maybe.

Me: If we are we're Lambda Lambda Lambda.

Boss (smiles): Heh...

5 Days, 5 Ties

2011-09-30T20:27:00.000-07:00

It's not often that I wear a tie. I do with some consistency, but it's not a daily occurrence. This week was a bit different. With an interview and a funeral scheduled over the past few days - I decided to go all out and dress up for the rest of my work week.

On the upside: my daughter now thinks I wear a tie every day.
On the down side: I feel pretentious.

Did you do anything out of the ordinary this week?

How to Live in Four Easy Steps. Part 4: The Example Has Been Set

2011-09-24T21:46:00.000-07:00

Before you start reading, look into a mirror for a few minutes. Go ahead, it's OK - I can wait.

Now, what did you see? More important, who did you see? Are you happy with your reflection? Are there things in there you would like to change?

Mirrors serve a purpose, even if we don't appreciate the results of looking into them. They help us to see ourselves, to know our own appearance without having to rely on the testimony of others. But beyond reflective glass, there are other mirrors to help us see ourselves in a new light.

Through God's word, we can see our lives in light of divine measure. It is by reading God’s law that we are able to see our sin, our failures, and shortcomings. And even though we may not be able to see ourselves clearly, one day we will.

We also know that we are a reflection of God. God is love and love should be apparent in all our actions and define our lives.

He has also given us His Son, the ultimate example of how we should appear – both inside and out.

Isaiah 53 gives us the clearest example of how others saw Him (and often see us). He did not have an alluring appearance. He was despised. Despite being beaten and broken by others, He remained silent.

When we look at our reflection in light of God’s word it is Christ’s refection that we should see. But we are far from perfect. Sometimes we may see more of ourselves in the mirror, and less of Christ. But we can change our appearance, and Jesus has all ready given us His example.

Paul tells us that our attitude should be of the same “mind Christ Jesus had.” (Php 2:5) His very nature was fully God and in Him we are heirs in His Kingdom, but He never used his nature for his own gain. This is how we should live.

“He made himself nothing
By taking the very nature of a servant,
being made in human likeness.
And being found in appearance as a human being,
He humbled Himself
by becoming obedient to death.”
(Php 2:7-8)

To make ourselves nothing. To be humble and obedient, even to the point of death. Sounds like fun, doesn’t it? But just as Jesus’ reward was great, so is ours: life.

It is this gift of life that gives us hope. It is in hope that we live. And we are to live as a reflection of God. That reflection brings us full circle... God is love.

“If you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.” (Php 2:1-4)

Now, take a moment to look in the mirror. How do you like what you see? Me personally, I want to look more like Christ.

(Originally posted on What's Inside on 8/4/06)

3 Things

2011-09-22T06:48:00.000-07:00

There are three things that my mind cannot comprehend today.

1. That it is the 22^nd of September. Too soon.
2. That the weather is forecasted to be 80° today.
3. That it is supposed to be 80° on the 22^nd of September.

The summer that was

2011-09-21T17:20:00.000-07:00

How to Live in Four Easy Steps. Part 3: Why Quit Now?

2011-09-20T22:58:00.000-07:00

Bob Dylan once said, "When you feel in your gut what you are and then dynamically pursue it - don't back down and don't give up - then you're going to mystify a lot of folks." It's funny, perseverance in any incarnation amazes and bewilders people.

Don't quit: it's a popular theme. One that is shouted at athletes in locker rooms across America. Whispered in broken marriages. A message of encouragement or rebuke, of promise or hope. It is an attitude we instill in our children as they learn to talk and take their first steps.

From Winston Churchill's Never Give In speech, to the cartoon of a frog choking the stork that is trying to eat it. From Tim Allen's cry "Never give up, Never surrender" in Galaxy Quest, to Reliant K's song Pressing On. The will to keep going - no matter what - is embedded in our culture.

Yet, quitting sometimes seems to be the easiest thing to do and those who defy that logic to weather the storm are often considered irrational.

The wisdom of man is foolish in God's eyes. The call to persevere is a constant element in God's word, in the conquest of the promised land, in the words of Jesus and the prophets who foretold His coming, and in many of Paul's letters.

In those times when perseverance seems the hardest thing to do, Paul gives us the first (and likely most difficult) step, "Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead." (Php 3:13) To move on you must let go of past failures. I'm not saying to ignore them entirely or lose the lessons learned from those mistakes. But DO forget the act itself and never dwell on your errors. It's been said that without failure, success would be impossible. When I teach colleagues a new concept, I often explain it then let them try it out for themselves, knowing they won't get it right. Only after they have completely and utterly failed, I show them the correct way so they can see what they did wrong and how to succeed on their own. Don't let the act of a misstep distract you, but learn from it. Focus, and keep going.

But keep going for what? There is a reason to all we do, a purpose for why we are here. "I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus." (Php 3:14) There is more to life than what we can see. The unseen should be our focus and will be our reward. Quitting is such a selfish thing, and nothing should be done for our own ambitions, but for the glory of God.

There are a few keys to this perseverance. Know God. Know yourself. Realize you're not infallible. "Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already been made perfect, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me." (Php 3:12)

God's got a hold on us, He won't let go even if we do. It is up to us to grasp on to the purposes Christ has for us. And His plans for us are amazing, why quit now? Like Dylan said, you'll mystify a lot of folks.

(Originally posted on What's Inside on 8/4/06)

How to Live in Four Easy Steps. Part 2: Think About This

2011-09-18T09:41:00.000-07:00

Some one once said the mind is a terrible thing to waste, yet we do it everyday. We waste our time, thoughts, and energies on frivolous things, to no purpose or reason than to stay busy.

There is a story that many of you may have heard, of two cronically ill men who shared a hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window.

The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation.

Every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window. The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside.

The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.

One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn't hear the band - he could see it. In his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.

Days and weeks passed.

One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.

As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.

Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed.

It faced a blank wall.

Can you imagine? For weeks this man had filled his mind with imagery of beautiful scenery, the glory of God's creation, and humanity at its finest. But for what purpose, there was nothing to see out that window.

But the story doesn't end there. He asked a nurse why the other man had lied about seeing such wonderful sights. The nuse explained that the deceased roommate was blind and could not see a thing. But why? What compelled him? The nurse's only explination was, "perhaps to offer encouragement."

What do you see when you close your eyes? What passions and ideals consume your mind? I think the blind man in the story got it. He knew how to live. There were a lot of other things that he could have been thinking about. It all would have kept his mind busy, but would it have served any greater purpose?

"Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable — if anything is excellent or praiseworthy — think about such things." (Php 4:8)

Think about that. How do you keep mentally fit, emotionally centered, and spiritually healthy? It's all about what's inside your head. What do you think about? Is it productive to dwell on your problems? Or to hold onto anger? God's word has given us a blueprint for a healthy frame of mind. To think about truth, honor, justice, purity, beauty, excellence.

What kind of world would we live in if we gave more thought to such good things? Today's world is much the opposite. It thinks about lies, contempt, inequity, wickedness, disgust, and failure. We could do so much better.

In all things, in thought or deed, practice joy. "Rejoice in the Lord always." (Php 4:4) And keep your mind focused, "Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God." (Php 4:5-6)

Just think.

(Originally posted on What's Inside on 7/11/06)

Motivation

2011-09-16T18:47:00.000-07:00

There are many things that inspire me. My kids. Funny conversations I hear in the world around me. A compelling song. The way fog wraps itself around Canfield Mountain at sunrise.

Motivation is a different creature. If inspiration is how you do the things you do, motivation is the why. In my universe, inspiration is in infinite supply. However my motivation frequently needs a hint.

At home, I have that reminder to the right of my computer sandwiched between my hat collection and a cup of writing sticks.

This is what I see every time I reach for my mouse. Every time I sit at my desk, they're telling me to do something. Write something. Be productive.

They are as follows.

1. The Elements of Fiction Writing series that my sister-in-law bestowed upon me for my birthday.

2. A borrowed copy of Stephen King's On Writing.

3. Three dictionaries. English, Spanish, and German.

4. A book about parenting a kid with Aspergers.

5. Jon Acuff's Quitter. (ps, Quitter is currently available through iTunes for $5.95 - you should get it. Really, you should.)

What motivates you?

Productivity

2011-09-14T21:26:00.000-07:00

Yes, I actually said the following.

"Just imagine how productive we could be. We'd be both productive and unproductive at the same time - which is way more productive than being productive on it's own."

I love my job.

How to Live in Four Easy Steps. Part 1: Shine Like a Star

2011-09-11T19:07:00.000-07:00

Every one wants to be famous. If you don't believe me, ask a bunch of elementary aged children what they want to be when they grow up. Answers will range from noble (policeman, fireman, doctor) to spectacular (professional athlete, rock star, actor/actress).

While you might find a kid who wants to be the ice cream man, you'll never find one who wants to be a lifetime Dairy Queen employee. Some kids dream of becoming the president of the USA, but none wish to become a crooked politician. I would doubt you could find any who wants to grow up to spend their lives stuck in middle management, work one meaningless job after another, or be a career telemarketer.

The existence of such jobs not only tell me of their necessity, but also of a tragic loss of hope on a nearly unimaginable scale. Somewhere between childhood and adulthood we have forgotten how to dream. Perhaps it is the nature of our modern education system, one that sacrifices creativity on the altar of financial burdens. Perhaps it is just a simple change of perspectives as we get older.

My own career ambitions went through many phases while growing up. In fifth grade I wanted to be an astronaut, in junior high I wanted to be a rock star. I studied engineering throughout high school and planned on doing the same for college to eventually become an architect. After high school my hopes were to become a radio DJ, one of the funny ones with their own morning show. Now, more than a decade later, there is still that little boy inside of me who wants to be a rock star.

Every one wants to be famous. How is it that such a longing can be so ingrained into the very fiber of human nature? Is this yearning for the limelight wrong? This desire to be someone?

I believe those aspirations are very much a part of the God-shaped hole that each of us are created with. We try to fill that emptiness with fame, power, popularity, notoriety. With selfish ambitions, the spotlight can be a very dangerous place. But God fills it with His Glory. "for it is God who works in you... to act in order to fulfill His good purpose." (Php 2:13) If God is at work in us, then it is His purpose for which we do all things.

But would God allow each of us to be famous? Of course. But how?

"Do everything with out grumbling or arguing" (Php 2:14) No one likes a whiner, but God rewards those who keep a good attitude in all that they do. And what do we get out of it? "that you may become blameless and pure, 'children of God without fault in a warped and crooked generation.' Then you will shine among them like stars in the sky." (Php 2:15)

I love that last part - that we'll shine among our generation like stars. In one of Charlie Peacock's songs he sings "I wanna shine like the stars in the heavens." Shining like stars. Does that mean we'll be recognized everywhere we go? No. But for the people that God puts in our lives we should be famous - though it shouldn't be us, but the light inside us that is instantly noticeable. When we share that light, that hope, whether it is on stage in front of a thousand people, in a coffee shop with a group of friends, or with a stranger at a bus stop, to them... we are famous. Not for our own glory, but for the glory of God. "Then I will be able to boast on the day of Christ that I did not run or labor in vain." (Php 2:16)

Keep your dreams. I do. Maybe some day, I'll actually get paid to write. But I will be famous, even if it is only in the eyes of those who see Christ in me. It is worth the effort, to be a star.

(Originally posted on What's Inside on 7/8/06)

New movie review

2011-09-10T22:45:00.000-07:00

Contagion. It's up. Go read it.

tidbits (ish)

2011-09-09T21:52:00.000-07:00

Christian started school this week.

So did JJ.

Zu starts next week.

I share my office (over-sized cubicle) with one other person. He does the job that I did before I got promoted. There is a lot of overlap between the two of us because we're the end result of a consolidation of four job titles that used to be held by six people.

This makes it easy for us when one or the other needs a vacation. He covers for me while I'm out and I cover for him while he's out.

Beyond the ease in professional duties, we have similar personalities (we're both geeks). We make each other laugh and we're frequently mocking the coughers on the other side of our cubicle wall.

Regardless of what happens during the day; the ad hoc requests, the never-ending parade of reports, being the big brother of our staff... the highlight of our day is what we've affectionately called "parking lot tetris." This is the time of day when several employees either take a lunch or end their shifts at the same time and all try to navigate their cars out of the narrow basement lot at the same time. It is usually haphazard and always entertaining. As one side of our cubicle is a large picture window that overlooks the basement parking lot, we have one of the best views from which one can observe this phenomenon.

However not everything we see happen below our office window is entertaining in a funny kind of way. Sometimes it's a "did that just happen?" kind of funny. Like the time we saw a fight a couple of months ago. Well, not actually a fight. More like an argument. A domestic dispute really. But the girl did slap the guy a couple of times.

My office mate and I watched the whole ordeal. And we gave our statements to the police. Then we forgot it ever happened. Speaking of which...

I got served this week.

Helpful hint to my female readers - if you slap your boyfriend/husband, technically that's called domestic battery.

I'm not the only one that got served. So did the guy that shares my office. The plus side: we get to testify at her trial on behalf of the prosecution. The downside is we both have to testify. Hopefully we don't have to testify at the same time as we usually cover for each other. If we're both gone, the system breaks.

I sent our boss an email today to explain our dilemma. The email said something along the lines of: "We'll both need these dates off. We've been served."

He quickly responded via IM with the question: how did you both manage to get served at once?

My response: well... we were at this dance competition and these two guys were busting these crazy break dancing moves that I'd never seen before. They spun and shuffled their way over to where we were standing, one pointed at us and the other shouted "you've been served."

Thankfully, my boss has a good sense of humor. When I told him the real story (fight, parking lot, police, she's been charged) he said it sounded like fun.

Two best statements I heard at poker night this evening:

1. "I'm a rapper, of course I carry a gun."

2. "I don't listen to other people's songs, I write my own."

That's called swagger.

If you look to the right, you may notice links to my secondary blogs. My original intent was to keep them separated as each blog has different purposes. However, the result has been that those secondary blogs are left ignored (both by me and by the rest of the interwebs).

This also prompted some tough decisions when I wrote my Church series. Should I post it here - where I have the most traffic and those posts would have the best visibility? Or should I post them on my What's Inside blog as that blog was designed to be an outlet for my religiously themed writing. End result, they ended up here. The dichotomy isn't working, so over the next few weeks I'm going to be doing some consolidation and cross-posting. You'll see entries here that originally appeared there. So don't be surprised to see some blog posts with a decidedly theological bent for a while.

Oddities

2011-09-06T21:47:00.000-07:00

My parents came to visit last week. We all had a great time but there are a couple things that I can't seem to sake. Two things really. Two things that just don't add up. Two things that no matter what I do to rationalize them, I just can't make sense of it.

1. My dad using a smart phone.
2. My dad talking about rap music.

There. I said it. I feel better now.

ps, it is nice to see him doing things that doctors once told him he'd never do again.

My inner geek may be showing

2011-09-05T13:37:00.000-07:00

This makes me wish I lived in London.

More from the fair

2011-09-01T17:30:00.001-07:00

PS, the kids had fun too.

At the North Idaho Fair

2011-08-31T21:18:00.000-07:00

Hold On

2011-08-29T05:18:00.000-07:00

It is not easy being a parent of special needs kids. Believe me. Divorce rates among parents of kids on the autism spectrum is ridiculous. I don't want to be a statistic. I love my wife too much for that. And I love my kids.

The words to the song below are ones that have been spoken before between Bekah and I many times in the past few years. Keep holding on. It will be alright.

For those of you with kids like mine, you're not alone. I'm on your side. The best thing you can do for your spouse is to be there through whatever.

Vote Zombies!

2011-08-25T22:19:00.001-07:00

Last night, we had some interesting dinner conversation, including (but not limited to) a misstated Monty Python quote. But the strangest - and perhaps most truthful - exchange started with my wife's older sister.

My sister-in-law started by describing a frequent customer that came into her store wearing a t-shirt extolling the virtues of reelecting FDR. The shirt said something along the lines of "Vote for Roosevelt, we need him again."

Of course, he's long dead, a fact that spawned a conversation between my sister and this customer.

The t-shirt made no distinction if we should be campaigning for Teddy or Franklin, so Miriam started with the natural question.

Which one?
FDR.
What's the point of the shirt?
The man explained that President Roosevelt was the one that got us out of the Great Depression and we needed a leader like him once again.
So we'd have a zombie for president?
The man chuckled.

The conversation ended when Miriam offered meager support: "If you raise him, I'll vote for him.

She finished telling us the story of this encounter. The discussion that followed was (in my mind) classic.

First, would a zombie FDR have a shot in the 2012 election? Possibly, with one observation that he would be a better candidate than anyone currently running in the Republican primary. Then we came to the conclusion that zombie FDR wouldn't stand a chance in Idaho because Roosevelt was a Democrat. But, if he changed parties?

I made the suggestion that all a zombie would need to do to win an election in Idaho is to have the letter R follow his name.

My father-in-law replied, "I think we all ready have zombies that won an election in Idaho."

Wait, zombies in our statehouse? Is that possible? Phil Hart. John Goedde. Steve Vick. Vito Barbieri. Lawerence Denney. I stand corrected. Idaho is ruled by zombies.

Should I buy my pair now and be prepared?

What to do?

2011-08-25T05:42:00.000-07:00

My parental units are arriving on Saturday. They'll be here for five days. This presents a unique challenge.

My wife, three kids, and I live in 1000 square feet. We need something to do to break free from the confinements of home and prevent overcrowding and cabin fever.

Should be easy right? Coeur d'Alene is a fantastic place to live and a beautiful place to visit.

But all the cool events that roll through town every summer has passed. Car d'Lane was in June. Julyamsh was last month. Both Art on the Green and The Wooden Boat Show wrapped up earlier this month. All that's left is the North Idaho Fair and we're planning on taking my folks there Saturday night after we pick them up from the airport.

Here's my quandary: What should we do for the rest of their stay?

This song wrecks me

2011-08-22T21:36:00.000-07:00

About 4:50 Thursday morning, my Dad called.

"Did I wake you up?"

Of course he did, but he wouldn't do so without reason. He was calling from the ER; doctors found a tumor in my bother's neck.

There isn't a good way to take news like that.

I managed to go to work, but I could barely function. My body was in my cubicle but my mind was absent. I went home early, at least there I could exist without cognitive effort. Bekah gave me the freedom to sit and sort through my thoughts.

Every now and then, I hear the right song at the right moment that speaks the right words. It's the kind of song that voices emotions that I couldn't describe on my own. I found that song Thursday afternoon.

I got home, sat down at my computer, and started reading through other people's blogs. And this song was posted on Stuff Christian's Like. I listened to it and just completely lost it. In the four days since, I've watched this video a dozen times. If you want to know how I feel about what my brother is going through, this song says it better than I ever could.

(ps, if you have a hard time making sense of the lyrics - you can read them HERE)

Living with aspergers: The good and the awkward

2011-08-21T21:35:00.000-07:00

The amount of words flowing from our son's mouth should have been a clue that there was something atypical about him.

Research in language development in young children show that girls (usually) use more words than sounds because they thrive on communication. Those same studies show that boys (at the same age) tend to make more imitative noises - growling, motor sounds, vrooms, animal calls, etc. It's not that girls are not capable of making noise, or that boys don't know how to talk; under normal circumstances, the genders tend to gravitate toward specific types of vocalizations.

Christian defied the stereotype. He was the exception to the rule. He quickly picked up a healthy vocabulary. As new parents, we taught him words like thuggin' and gluttony. When he was three, he was trying to sing the chorus to Under the Bridge. Once he learned to talk, he never shut up. Now that he's heading into the first grade, he still won't stop talking. Unless he's asleep.*

His verbose habits were apparent on his first day of preschool when he told his teacher that the water he drank went down his esophagus and into his stomach. She noted that they woudn't need to spend anytime developing his vocabulary.

But just because he excels at talking, doesn't mean that he is adept at conversation. Interpersonal communication is one of the many challenges that kids with aspergers face. Conversation with an aspie affected child are frequently one sided and can be strenuous. Often, these kids latch on to a special interest subject and are compelled to work that topic into any and every discussion. At the moment, Christian's special interest is art projects and Mario Brothers (also, art projects about Mario). If he has something that he is excited to tell you or show you, I can guarantee it will be about his video game or a picture he drew.

Attempts to change the subject are possible, but only with significant effort.

Because of Christian's asperger tendencies, conversations revolve around him. And (thanks to his extensive vocabulary and boundless need to speak) he rarely pauses long enough to allow typical back and forth dialog. I'm surprised that kid is able to breathe while he talks.

But we're working on that.

While most people that know anything about child development (or child psychology) would discourage exposure to television (or at least recommend limited use), for aspie kids it's a helpful tool.

They don't pick up conversational skills as easily as neurotypical children. Aspie kids learn differently so parents need different tools. TV can be one of those tools. TV and movies help these kids learn proper conversation through mimicry that can't be absorbed through the observation of family or peers. Of this practice, the author of one book about raising kids with aspergers wrote it "should be used to facilitate social interactions." **

Parents of kids on the autism spectrum call this "scripting." Kids recite lines from media and incorporate them into conversation. This skill is part of why kids with aspergers can turn out to be great storytellers, writers, or actors. They have amazing creative minds and can shine once they learn to apply their own imaginations to the scripts they learn from TV.

As helpful as this can be, it has it's downsides.

Christian recently scripted the entire Life Alert commercial to Bekah. He asked her the hypothetical question: "Mom, what if one day, you were cleaning the bathroom, and you slipped and fell in the bathtub and you couldn't get up. What would you do? That's why you need Life Alert." He proceeded to list off the benefits of the service with genuine concern that Bekah might be hurt and immobile in the bathroom and would have to wait for 8 hours until a neighbor finds her.

Irrational to you or I, but in his mind it made perfect sense.

Scripting can also be entertaining.

I treated the kids out to Burger King last night. I know, they're a part the evil and vile fast food machine that is the downfall of modern society. You don't need to lecture me. But they had air conditioning and a playground on which the kids expelled every ounce of energy possible.

The TV was on in the play area and the kids were paying more attention to the shiny moving images than they were to their chicken sandwiches. The TV was tuned to Cartoon Network, but was playing a show geared toward older children so I asked one of the employees if the TV could be turned off. She obliged and disappeared into the staff area at the front of the store. A few moments later, she paused the TV signal and a Dish Network logo started floating across the screen.

"It's Dish," Christian said.

"Huh?" asked his sister.

"They have Dish Network here," he said. I nodded that he was correct.

He continued, "Dish Network doesn't have very many HD channels." We don't have HDTV at home, so I'm not sure why this matters. But his reasoning sounded familiar to me - lifted straight from a DirecTV commercial.

But he still wasn't done. "I don't like Dish Network. I like Diwec TV." (He still has trouble pronouncing his R's.)

From there he provided a worthy DirecTV sales pitch as good as any TV advertisement. Note to DirecTV, he's available for hire... as long as you have a Wii with Super Mario Bros to keep him entertained between takes.

* edit: He has been known to mumble a few words in his sleep. He also laughs in his sleep, which is just a bit creepier than talking.

** from When Your Child Has . . . Asperger's Syndrome by William Stillman

Do you deserve a second chance?

2011-08-17T17:02:00.000-07:00

Does she?

via: People of the Second Chance

Rise of the Planet of the Apes

2011-08-15T23:06:00.000-07:00

Go see this movie.

In case you missed it, here is my review. (my blog - no spoilers)
And if you are interested, here are some of the Easter eggs hidden in the new Planet of the Apes movie. (IFC article - several spoilers)

And really, I mean it. Go watch this movie.

This is what happens while I'm at work

2011-08-10T06:14:00.000-07:00

There is always a story

2011-08-06T20:16:00.000-07:00

If you pay attention to my twitter feed, you may have noticed the following tweet: Old man in line in front of me @ super1 is buying four 4packs of Widmer Bros IPA & 4 big jugs of burgandy wine. Coolest old man ever.

There has to be more to it than that, right?

There is.

When I go to the grocery store, I am a man on a mission. In and out as quickly as possible. I had a two item list - brown gravy mix and potatoes - simple, quick, and easy. Except I wasn't paying attention to anything that might be lurking around the corner of the medicine isle.

That is where old man almost ran me over with his shopping cart. He chuckled with a warmth that only comes with age and excused himself. I didn't mind as it was partially my fault - I should have been more observant.

"No worries," I said.

He smiled and nodded in acquiescence then shuffled his way to the front of the store. Him manner and dress was the elderly stereotype: arched convex back, shoulders hunched forwards, jowls sagging beyond his chin, wispy silver hair, plaid button down shirt tucked into faded denim, and orthopedic shoes.

But it wasn't his appearance that caught me off guard - it was the contents of his cart. Four bottles of jug wine (roughly four liters each) and four packs of IPA - four bottles in each pack. There may have been other items in with the wine and beer, but they escaped my observation - overshadowed by the epic amounts of alcohol in the old man's shopping cart.

Here is the train of thought that danced through my head from there until I reached the produce isle:

Whoa, that's a lot of booze.
I didn't know old folks could drink that much.
I can't even drink that much.
He is going to be lit up tonight.
It would be hilarious to see him drunk.
I'd bet he's a happy drunk. There's two types of drunks in the world, happy drunks and mean drunks. Mean drunks don't typically last into old age, so he's gotta be a happy drunk.
Is his doctor OK with that much alcohol consumption?
Dang, that is a lot of booze.

My groceries were quickly procured; I made my way to the check out lines and ended up in line behind the old man. As the cashier scanned his beer and took his payment, I pulled out my phone and entered the tweet.

Coolest old man ever. I could have said 'most adorable old man ever,' but that might have gone over Twitter's 140 character limit.

This is a change in me. A previous version of myself would have been quick to judge the man as a lush. I would have condemned him as an irresponsible drunkard. But there was something different this time. I couldn't be critical of him.

Maybe I'm just getting older. Or more forgiving. Or better at giving grace.

Whatever it is that is changing the way I view others, this old guy was cool. There was a contagious smile on his face that couldn't be ignored. He radiated with joy. He paid the cashier, collected his things and turned in a slow gait to the exit and out into the parking lot. I was in awe of, and slightly amused by the amount of alcohol he was carrying out of the store.

Once he was gone, the bagger let out a nervous giggle said, "A guy that age shouldn't drink that much."

She spoke what the younger me would have said. The cashier knew better, she had seen him several times before.

"Most of it is for his wife, I think," she said. "He gets the same thing every time, four bottles of burgundy and four packs of beer."

She had one final observation, "She comes in with him every now and then. They're a cute couple."

That last line sums it up. They're a cute couple. That's what I hope people say of Bekah and I 30 years from now. They're a cute couple. In fact, I'm happy when people say that of us now.

And aside from the copious quantities of alcohol, that's the kind of man I want to be when I grow up. Joyful. Smiling. Radiant. Adorable. If only we could all age so gracefully.

Leavenworth, pictorial review

2011-08-05T22:00:00.000-07:00

For those with short term memories and/or are easily distracted by shiny objects, allow me to fill you in. Bekah and I escaped last weekend. To Leavenworth. Our first real kid-free vacation since ... well, ever.

We didn't do everything planned, but we had an amazing time. After the first night, by the time we had finished our waffles, Bekah and I were fans of staying at a bed & breakfast. And by mid day, we decided we should do our best to make the trip an annual event.

Beside the point. While we were there, we took a lot of pictures. Here are five of my favorites.

There should be no question why this is one of my favorites. None.

Perspective is everything. As we were horseback riding on a hot summer day, I was thankful for this perspective.

We visited two wineries and two tasting rooms. Icicle Ridge, Cascadia, Eagle Creek, and Kestrel. Icicle Ridge was a bummer, because that's the one I was most looking forward to seeing. It was the most scenic, but a rather dull tasting experience. Eagle Creek was decent. Kestrel was entertaining. But by far, Cascadia was my favorte. For the wine lovers out there, I can not urge you enough to support this business. Delicious wine and a fantastic host.

I took several pictures of flowers. There are decorative pots hanging from businesses all over Leavenworth. But for wild growth? Daisies are everywhere.

My wife has a beautiful smile. And I saw a lot of that smile for the three days we were away. With a private horseback ride, quite (and mostly private) dinner at a secluded lodge, massages, and nothing but peace and relaxation for the first 24 hours we were there, every smile was earned. And with all we've been through in the past eight years, those smiles were well deserved.

You can see more from our trip HERE, on facebook.

Anti-Bully PSA

2011-08-01T19:17:00.000-07:00

Five for Friday: Leavenworth

2011-07-29T06:28:00.000-07:00

As you read this, it is likely that Bekah and I are living it up in Leavenworth, or in the car somewhere along Highway 2.

Since the arrival of children in our lives, this is only the third time we've been able to break away from the kids for any reasonable amount of time and it is the first real kid free vacation we've ever attempted.

Believe me - I'm excited.

And since the anticipation has been nearly uncontainable, Bekah and I have been busy making plans. Here are the most prominent items on our itinerary.

1. Private guided horseback ride and dinner for two. Just a half hour north of Leavenworth (just outside of Plain) there's a lodge that offers a two hour ride followed by a romantic dinner at a quite mountain lodge.

2. One hour massages at the spa. Which spa? I'm not sure yet, and frankly I don't care. It's a massage. I've got nothing to complain about.

3. Winery tours. We've booked a trip with an agency in town that provides all the transportation (with some additional amenities) to three different vineyards. One of them is Eagle Creek Winery. I'm not sure where we're going for the other two, and I'm not sure it matters.

4. Catching (hopefully) a show with Leavenworth Summer Theater. I say 'hopefully' because the general admission is sold out. The only seats available are the donor/patron seats. If those don't sell out by Friday morning, we can buy tickets. Bad news, it might sell out and we won't get to go. Good news, if we do get tickets, they'll be the best seats in the amphitheater. What show are we hoping to see? (If my mom is reading this, she might want to sit down.) The Sound of Music.

5. Floating the Wenatchee River. Cold water, hot sun, and nothing but relaxation.

We'll be unplugged through most of the weekend. And possibly out of cell range. But keep an eye on my twitter feed. I'll be posting as much as 3G allows.

That's my weekend in a nutshell. How about you? Any big plans?

tidbits

2011-07-26T19:52:00.000-07:00

Keeping the ego in check

Consider this scenario: your kid asks you for your age. They scream when you answer them. That happened to me last night.

Five in the morning

There is a conspiracy afoot, one where the universe is preventing me from sleeping in past 5am. Something keeps waking me about 4:50 every morning. Yesterday, it was the sound of heavy rain followed by the panicked realization that I left my car's windows down over night. Today it was the incessant clucking of our neighbor's chickens.

Two more work days to go

At this time in three days, Bekah and I will be chilaxing without the kids somewhere in Leavenworth. We have much planned and the more we look at opportunities, the more I am amazed how any single town can cram so much awesome into 1.3 square miles.

Zu's Blogfest experience.

2011-07-24T20:39:00.000-07:00

For those of you that were there and noticed my running around following an adorable four year old, let me assure you - she had a great time.

Zu ate a lot of watermelon.

Seriously, a lot of watermelon.

Thank you to everyone who made her feel like a princess. She likes being the center of attention.

In her own words:

What she did with Daddy, "I went to a restaurant."

What else we did, "We said 'hi' to people."

Her favorite person that I talked to, "Herb."

What was her favorite part, "Eating."

Her other favorite part, "Being with you."

By "you" she was talking to me. If you are the father of a little girl, I can not tell you how important it is to take her out for Daddy/daughter dates. She will love you for them.

Blogfest's pictorial review

2011-07-24T19:27:00.000-07:00

For those of you that were not able to attend, here is what you missed.

North Idaho supplied some beautiful skies.

And Bent lit up his gigantic grill. With firewood.

Bent spent most of his time behind the grill, tending to the steak and chicken.

He was also sociable. Here he's chatting with Stickman.

Cis, Dogwalk, Herb, and Dave chat with Liz and others.

No, your eyes were not deceiving you. Dave and Herb were both wearing matching shirts. And by "matching" I mean "identical."

Proud papa, JimmyMac arrived with his new baby along for a leisurely stroll.

And Dustin made sure everyone knew he was Mike Kennedy's biggest fan.

Don Sausser talked with most everyone there. Here he's talking to Digger and Spaz.

The chicken went on the grill.

And there was plenty of food.

A good time was had by all.

Other observations:

Spencer is both taller and skinnier than I assumed, however his superman hair was on full display and exactly how everyone describes.

I always forget how deep of a voice Herb commands. And for those of you that believe he's a grouchy old man, forget it. He's a charmer and my daughter adored him.

It was good to see Stebbijo out and among the HBO crowd. Also got to meet her husband for the first time. Also of interest, Stebbijo and I have the same exact camera.

I feel bad for Gary. He had a wicked sunburn. (softball, I think)

I was looking forward to talking more with a few people - primarily Mike and Beth. But my daughter was keeping me busy. I got far more exercise following her around than I anticipated.

If you ever have the opportunity to dine on Bent's BBQ, do not pass it up. Absolutely delicious. I think I like his grill work better than Wolf Lodge.

Also a big 'thank you' to Dave for the work that he does. That's the reason we all were there.

And a massive kudos to Steve Widmyer and his crew at Fort Ground Grill for being friendly and gracious hosts.

I was not the only attendee with a camera. You can see other galleries from other photographers far more talented than I.

Don's pictures HERE. (He got a few excellent shots of Zu)
And Stebbijo's collection HERE.
Cis's photos HERE.

Checking in a little late

2011-07-23T21:52:00.000-07:00

This is the post that I should have published on Thursday. Instead, I went to bed early.

It was a no change week. No good, but better than the four pound gain that happened at the beginning of the sexyback challenge.

However...

At my wife's urging, and in light of some personal frustrations, I went to the doctor earlier this week for some lab work. We were looking to see if there were some medical factors contributing to a lack of weight loss despite improved diet and increased exercise. The doc found something and I've got a followup visit at the beginning of August. On top of the stagnant weight, we're hoping this also explains my perpetual state of exhaustion and occasional/inexplicable irritation.

I also began physical therapy yesterday to see if we can fix my jacked up neck and shoulders. My shoulder blades are too far apart (and the right one is slightly higher than the left), they're rotated forward a bit, which causes my head to rest forward more than natural. All that results in constant tension throughout my scalene and trapezius muscles. The culprit (as if this should be any surprise) is me sitting in front a computer; it pays the bills but kills my neck. The therapist gave me a stretch to do (at least to start) three times a day that I'll begin working into my regular exercise routine.

Hopefully with the doctor/therapy combination I can begin to make some noticeable progress.

Five for Friday: tidbits

2011-07-22T06:50:00.000-07:00

I had to get some blood drawn on Wednesday. Is it weird that I was reading Bram Stoker’s Dracula while waiting on the phlebotomist to stick a needle in my arm? As for the classic novel, I have a new favorite literary quote: “For so surely as we live, that scar shall pass away when God sees right to lift the burden that is hard upon us. Till then we bear our Cross, as His Son did in obedience to His Will. It may be that we are chosen instruments of His good pleasure, and that we ascend to His bidding as that other through stripes and shame. Through tears and blood. Through doubts and fear, and all that makes the difference between God and man.”

Speaking of phlebotomy, I have bad veins. It took two phlebotomists and multiple pokes to find a usable vein. There is a good reason I don’t like needles. I once had a bad experience. And then another one. This occurrence didn’t improve my outlook.

New word: Experdited (verb, past tense) what happens when an expert expedites something

I completely forgot Leonard Nemoy’s name earlier this week. Does that mean I have to turn in my geek credentials?

What’s with all the RVs camping in the section of the Walmart parking lot closest to the street? There’s no RV hookups so that eliminates the possibility of dumping the stored up effluence. It would be like trying to sleep in daylight with all those bright streetlamps illuminating the whole area. And you’d have to cope with all the noise of street traffic. Most importantly, we live in North Idaho where actual campgrounds are plentiful (also, more scenic and less white-trashy).

Conversations with my youngest

2011-07-17T15:01:00.001-07:00

JJ: "DAD!"

Me: "What?"

JJ: "Huh?"

Me: "Huh?"

JJ: "DAD!"

Me: "What?"

JJ: "Huh?"

Five for Friday

2011-07-15T05:53:00.000-07:00

As I mentioned in last night's post, Christian and I went out for a walk. What I failed to mention is that we stopped to play at a playground, I took a bunch of pictures, and we had a ton of fun.

As for the pictures, here are my five favorite shots from the collection.

Surprises

2011-07-14T21:45:00.000-07:00

It's Thursday so that means it is time for an update. It was a bad week. A birthday party for a friend, house guests, extra kids, and far too much soda. All throwing off my mojo.

Excuses. I know. I'm in control of what I eat/drink and how much/little I exercise.

That being said, I had a couple of surprises today.

Surprise #1: I lost another pound this week. Just a pound but that's better than I expected.

Surprise #2: As of this morning, I am able to cinch my belt one notch tighter. Hopefully I can keep it that way.

Christian and I went out for a walk this evening and I told him I was fat. He asked my why I was fat and I told him it's because I drink too much soda and don't exercise enough. He asked why I drink soda and I told him I like it, but I shouldn't because it's not healthy. Christian then lectured me about how I should drink milk instead because it has calcium in it and that I should eat more fruits and vegetables for vitamins.

I don't know how my six year old got so smart.

I told him to scold me any time he sees me drinking soda. "Christian," I said, "if you ever see me drinking soda, say 'stop that.' Tell me that I shouldn't be drinking that."

He liked that idea and proceeded to tell his best friend that he's going to tell his dad to stop drinking soda.

But I'm down a pound so that is a victory. I'm getting skinnier - albeit slowly. Now I just need to get rid of that extra fluff below my chin.

And no, I'm not just talking about the beard. Although, that needs to go too.

Focused

2011-07-13T19:46:00.001-07:00

Fixing Adoption

2011-07-11T23:01:00.000-07:00

If you know anything about Bekah and me, you probably know that adoption is something that is near and dear to us. We are surrounded by a community of friends who have gone through the adopting experience - both foreign and domestic. Within our own home, two of our three rambunctious blessings came to us through this process.

Adoption is a funny thing.

From beginning to end, it is an emotional roller coaster - the highs of falling in love with a beautiful child plagued with the fear and doubt of wondering whether or not everything is going to work out. The pain of not knowing if you will be able to keep the child as a part of your family. Laughter, tears, anticipation, heartbreak. It is all a part of that journey.

One thing has stuck with me over the last couple of years. It is something that the judge told us at the hearing to finalize Zu's adoption. "There are no returns," he told us. "You are to love her and care for her as if she was born to you naturally, and hopefully she will care for you when you are old."

His crack elicited a few welcome chuckles, but it was his last statement that left the biggest impression with me.

He said, "When you are gone, she is entitled to whatever inheritance you leave behind just like any other natural child." *

She wasn't born to us, but the signature from the judge proved that it didn't matter. In a few short minutes, she was ours. And as far as the law was concerned, it was as if we were her natural parents.

Like I said, adoption is a funny thing.

Zu is our child. Our heritage has become her heritage. We gave her a new name and a new life. About a year later, we repeated the process with JJ. And through it all, Christian has soldiered on like a champion big brother.

And while the timing is unknown, we're not yet done with adoption. We want to do it one more time. Zu and JJ are both products of the foster care system. We may choose that route again, but we've frequently pondered the option of foreign adoption.

However, foreign adoptions are burdened with a few devastating challenges. Mainly: time and money. They are nearly prohibitively expensive, and the time it takes to jump through the legal hoops is cumbersome and discouraging - that is if those hoops don't sabotage the process at the last possible moment. Take in to account that the cost, the laws, and the work involved varies from nation to nation. Consider that the longer a child is in an orphanage, the greater the psychological trauma. The older the child is at the time of adoption (coupled with the quality of care in their home country) the greater risk you face for attachment disorders.

The system is broken. But what if it could be fixed? Watch. (ps, you might recognize the kid in this video as the boy who really wanted to sing along with Beyoncé's Single Ladies)

Here is the link to the petition mentioned above. Both Ends Burning

* In my own personal belief, adoption is the greatest analogy of how God's love works. That He accepts us into His family to share in His inheritance as if we were His all along. You might not agree with me or even understand, but this process has been a pivotal experience for me. The need in this world is too great to do nothing.

tidbits

2011-07-09T17:58:00.000-07:00

One of the best things I've found on the internet (in recent days) is a quick visual comparison showing that Harry Potter and Star Wars are practically identical. For those of you lining up to see the movie on Friday, spoiler alert: Harry dies.

Overheard: "A customer was promised two $50 gift cards, so I guess that equals a hundred."

I've been listening to a lot of Alice Cooper recently. I'm not sure what that says about me.

Conversations and public bathrooms are two things that shouldn't mix. Talking to strangers and acquaintances in the midst of such personal activities. If taking care of nature's business in the company of other's isn't awkward enough, consider the conversation I had with a friend while I was washing my hands.

"Do you know what the meaning of happiness is?" he asked. Before I could answer he continued, "It's not being a parent. Happiness is emptying your bladder."

Something like progress

2011-07-07T22:00:00.000-07:00

Four pounds lost. That puts me back down to 196 which is exactly where I started three weeks ago.

And this hasn't been an easy week. I've been sick since Tuesday so there has been less exercise going on. But I also eat less when I'm sick. Less eating is probably a good thing, considering the grazing that went down on the 4th of July.

In good news: no soda since Friday.

Goals for this next week:
1. Keep of soda
2. Get over this stupid cold
3. Resume exercising
4. Continue the downward trend in weight

4th of July for Math Nerds

2011-07-04T11:42:00.000-07:00

Have a fun (and preferably safe) Independence Day.

ps. I'd recommend you close any translucent ads at the bottom of the video so that you can see the full screen.

Five for Friday

2011-07-01T06:05:00.000-07:00

It should be no secret that I'm a slacker who generally puts far too many things off until the last logistically plausible moment.

That being said, here are five reasons I procrastinate:

1. Um...
2. Well...
3. Because...
4. You know...
5. Ooooh, shiny.

Wrong way

2011-06-30T19:17:00.000-07:00

There's a reason I've been feeling fat the last couple of days. I've gained weight since the last I checked. Which, in case you haven't been following along, is the opposite of what I've been trying to do.

It's been a rough week.

I'm still trying to kick the soda habit. But I have a good alternative going. It's my soda-replacement-secret-weapon.

I'll go through three bottles of water while I'm at work. And I'm reusing the same bottle over and over again, refilling it with tap water, so I'm not being wasteful. And the Powerade takes me all day to finish off.

Now if only that can become a permanent substitute, I'll be in good shape (hopefully).

Five for Friday

2011-06-24T18:28:00.000-07:00

My office had a team building outing today for all of the program leadership. If you have seen my updates via twitter/facebook, you probably know we spent the afternoon golfing. I have not golfed since the summer after graduating high school. Beside some mild exercise and the comradery of of people that I don't often hang out with, I also learned a few things.

They are as follows:

1. Getting hit with a ball doesn't feel good. A stranger hit me from the 9th tee. I was standing at the first tee. My game had not even started yet and I was given a handicap.

2. Windblown mist from the fountain in the pond after the eight hole was refreshing. Until I discovered the pond water is freaking nasty.

3. There's a reason I kept my shirt on. Some of the guys I work with are very very white.

4. A good way of almost getting fired is almost hitting the boss with a wayward drive. Lucky for me, I was not that person.

5. I don't understand how people get so frustrated playing the sport. I discovered the water hazard on the first hole. I strained muscles that I didn't know existed. I ended 30 over par. My hand-eye coordination made me look like the most ungraceful golfer in recorded history. I genuinely suck at golf. But I still had fun. Enough that it is almost tempting to go out and buy my own set of clubs. Not once did I feel motivated to toss my club into the pond, rip the scorecard into confetti, or tackle Bob Barker.

The Plan

2011-06-23T21:28:00.000-07:00

We're one week into Carlos Whittaker's sexy back challenge. Progress? I'm not sure I haven't weighed myself in yet today.

But I do have a three part plan.

1. More walking. My boss runs (swims/bikes) Ironman. He's easily the most athletic person I know. And he speaks sql. So he's both mentally and physically challenging to keep up with. A coworker of ours expressed interest in running - that they wanted to get into a regular running/exercise routine - and they asked my boss how to get started. He told them to start walking. The way I see it, if that is good advice to get in shape to run, it should be a great starting point to trim away some extra fluff.

Status: mildly successful. This is my favorite part of summer - when it first starts to get warm during the day but is still crisp and cool at night. These mild evenings are great for walking which I started this week. There is also a good mile (ish) loop from my office to the hospital and back that is an easy way to fill up my lunch break.

2. Drink more water/less soda. People get why cigarettes are unhealthy. The signs are obvious. The same is true for meth. However, the negative side effects of soda aren't as obvious. All that sugar and the carbonation... I love it yet it is so bad for me. I had a candy bar and a can of soda for breakfast every day through my senior year of high school and I gained 40 pounds that year.

Status: meh. I've been weening myself off for a couple of weeks. But my colleague has been out of town for the past two days so I've been bearing both of our workloads. Monday, I caved. It's normally the busiest day of my work week, then adding on the additional duties and some crazy juggling due to some extra business that we've been managing the past couple of weeks - I knew that Monday was going to be a long day. A 44 ounce Mountain Dew was my coping mechanism. While I drank less soda than normal, I still imbibed. But I am drinking more water.

3. More sleep. Studies have shown that people who do not get enough sleep often have bigger waistlines. Unfortunately, I'm a statistic here. I stay up too late and get up far too soon. It doesn't help that I'm more of a night owl and my daughter is an early riser. It doesn't help that I start my job fairly early in the morning. And it doesn't help that the best alone time I can get with my wife happens after all the kids are in their own beds and sleeping.

Status: utter failure. Up late talking. Up late writing. Up late listening to music. And in one night of insomnia - up all night watching movies. I tried to go to bed earlier last night but woke up to the sound of thunder at 4:30 this morning.

My favorite part of summer

2011-06-22T19:42:00.001-07:00

Conan's Commencement Address

2011-06-20T15:56:00.000-07:00

The following is the funniest commencement speech I have ever heard. If you have a half hour to kill, watch this video. I can guarantee it is far superior to anything that is on TV tonight.

Beyond the jokes there is a serious - and worthwhile lesson about 17 1/3 minutes in.

Five for Friday

2011-06-17T22:30:00.000-07:00

Bekah is musically challenged. It's not that she can't sing - she can. Or that she doesn't like music - she does.

Her difficulty is remembering names and artists. This poses a difficulty when you ask her to name her favorite band. Such a question is usually greeted with shrugged shoulders and a puzzled look. Her eventual answer will probably be a whole genre instead of an actual band.

Not that it's a bad thing. It's just the way she's wired. There are too many other things on her mind to care about such trivial things.

She also has a habit of mangling lyrics and inventing her own to replace those she doesn't know or doesn't understand. But that's a different story.

As a birthday/anniversary present, I got her an iPod. And I'm stacking the deck; I'm loading up music that I know she'll like but would probably never listen to without my intervention. While she will sing along with most of these songs, she might not remember the names of the artists that recorded them.

My rules were simple. 1) the songs prominently feature female vocalists, 2) the songs must be safe for the kids to listen to if Bekah plays them in the car 3) they are more than the typical Sheryl Crow, Adele, or No Doubt and 4) it must be compelling and modern, no Celine Dion.

Here are five

1. The Civil Wars - a duet led with male/female harmonies and instrumentation bordering between blugrass and indie rock.

2. Ellie Goulding - a British singer/songwriter that blends Brit pop, folk, and electronica.

3. He Is We - a band I've mentioned before; the happy medium between Paramore and Taylor Swift.

4. Ingrid Michaelson - a frequent contributor to the Grays Anatomy soundtrack, Ingrid has a sound specially made for coffee shops.

5. La Roux - a synthpop duo with R&B and club leanings.

If you can think of anything that fits my criteria - please let me know.

Fluffyback

2011-06-16T23:10:00.000-07:00

If you are one of the dozen people that follow me on twitter (@niccasey) you may have noticed two things this afternoon. One of those things might have been me teasing my sister-in-law about spilled coffee.

The other would have been this tweet: "@loswhit started it. And I'm doing it: #SexyBack11 (not that I was ever sexy to begin with)."

In case you're wondering - yes, I am crazy. But you all ready knew that.

So what's with the SexyBack? Well, Carlos Whittaker started it in this post. So when he posted the challenge earlier today, I thought 'I should do this.'

Why?

Need you ask?

If the super cool Carlos Whittaker can admit he's fluffier than he needs to be, so can I. I'm starting the challenge at 196 lbs with a goal of 185 by the end of summer. You'll see updates here every Thursday now through Labor Day.

If you want to get your sexy back, check out Carlos Whittaker's post and join the community there.

The middle of June?

2011-06-15T19:37:00.000-07:00

Continuing to live the way LeBron James wants me to live

2011-06-13T18:14:00.000-07:00

I must admit, I don't pay much attention to professional sports. I'll follow the Seahawks through their season and cheer for them as long as their season allows. I'll watch an occasional Mariners game. And I'll catch as much of the Stanley Cup Playoffs as possible. But beyond that, I don't care much for pro sports.

Especially the NBA.

Over the past decade or so, it seems the NBA has shifted the focus away from the game, opting instead to focus on big personalities. And while the sport has always had exceptional celebrity players ranging from entertaining to obnoxious, nowadays, it seems no one cares about the team - especially the owners.

A single player makes or breaks the franchise. A single player wins or loses the game.

No one exemplifies all that I think is wrong with the NBA than LeBron James. I will admit the man is media savvy and is extremely talented. Unfortunately, his ego overshadows his skill. I don't fully understand the details surrounding his move from Cleveland to Miami, nor do I really care. All I know is the manner in which he handled it. And from that perspective alone, I'm confident in saying that my six year old son is more mature and respectful.

Now that he (ahem, I mean his team) landed in the championship series, I've found myself rooting for the Mavericks. Teamwork slowly renewing my interest in pro basketball.

But then I saw this.

&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a href="http://msn.foxsports.com/video?vid=947b28e8-9295-4e62-a191-e4f2311f0620" target="_new" title=""&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;LeBron on critics&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;

This is LeBron trying (and failing) at hiding his anger and disgust. I'll take my personal problems any day over his.

Church Part Part 7: Better than This

2011-06-11T07:24:00.000-07:00

I remember the last time I got into a physical fight. His name was Tim. Under normal circumstances, I probably would have liked the kid. But he talked a lot. And he knew how to get under my skin.

A club we both belonged to took a road trip to EWU for a technology conference. It was our senior year and this was going to be the last district sponsored trip of high school. From the moment our bus left campus on Thursday, he started poking me. Not a literal poking or that silly attention seeking poke on facebook. Just subtle insults or an “accidental” bump in passing. He was about my height, but chunkier. His bulk outsized me. His mouth out witted me. He carried it on through the rest of Thursday and all day Friday. The drive home on Saturday was more of the same.

It ended while taking a pit stop at a rest area near Snoqualmie Pass.

Our school’s choir and band also had road trips that weekend and were due back in town the same time as our CAD club. The highway rest area was populated with busses from our school district. It was like a pre-grad party with kids from three different clubs all converging in one place.

Then it happened.

As I was walking out of the bathrooms, Tim was hiding around the corner with a squirt gun. In hindsight, I should commend his aim; he shot a stream of water directly into my ear. But then, in that moment, it was the last straw. I gave him a shove and he pushed back. Then, in one implausible surge of adrenaline, I grabbed the edges of his jacket, picked him up off the ground, carried him a few steps to our transportation, and slammed him into the side of the bus.

I was ready to punch him. His expression acknowledged the same.

But then I looked around. The dozen kids from CAD club were all watching us. The choir and band kids were milling around the parking lot – some were aware of the situation but some were not.

All those eyes on me – all curiously anticipating violence. I released my hold on Tim, stepped onto the bus, sat down in the back seat, put on my headphones, and pushed play on my Walkman.

Tim left me alone for the rest of the way home, and he was nicer to me for the remainder of the school year. But that’s not the point. That fiasco at the rest stop somewhere along I-90 wasn’t my attempt at some hard earned respect. It was my tipping point.

Nearly 10 years ago, Malcolm Gladwell wrote a book called, The Tipping Point. In it, he proposed the idea that little changes can have drastic effects. The thought is that small things add up to a critical mass at which point there is no turning back.

Years of being bullied and teased, of picking fights, of being angry. It had reached a critical mass with Tim pinned up against the bus. I was at my tipping point.

I could swing my fist and remain mad at the world, or I could grow up and walk away. When I surveyed the crowd around the two of us, I realized something: I was better than that. I was better than a scrawny kid lashing out at any provocation. I was better than a pissed off teenager.

I made my choice. I told myself, “I’m better than this.” I let Tim go. That was my last fight.

Where is the church’s tipping point? When will we reach critical mass? How long will it take for us to get to the point where we say enough?

We’re better than this.

We are better than an unwelcoming society.
We are better than inconsequential issues.
We are better than unrealistic expectations.
We are better than scare tactics.
We are better than our baggage.
We are better than pushing away those who need hope.

We need to change our approach.

That is a scary thing to say in a church. If we truly believe that we are worshiping the Creator of all things - the Savior of the universe – it isn’t easy to admit that we are doing something wrong.

Because if our style of evangelism is out of whack, what does that say about our God?

Too often, we as Christians fight to maintain our status quo because a confession of error opens a door that we don’t want to enter. If the actions made in the name of God are deemed wrong, then we begin to question what we really believe. And if we begin to doubt, we might think that we’re falling into temptation.

That is a demented way of thinking. It proposes that our behavior defines or controls God. It assumes that God’s Grace has limits or conditions.

I suggest something different.

God hasn’t changed. He is everything that is good. He is great and terrible and awesome. It’s not God that is wrong. We are.

The way we approach Him. The way we present Him. These methods may have worked in my parents’ generation or the generation before them. But, as Bob Dylan once said, the “times they are a changin’.”

The church cannot remain stagnant. What we are doing doesn’t work. It is ineffective. We are better than this.

This presents a peculiar challenge. How do we portray an unchanging God in an everchanging world?

I don’t have a good answer for that question. But there are a few things that I do know.

We cannot continue treating people in a way that makes them feel like outsiders. If we want our churches to be a place where everyone feels welcome, we need to treat them in a way that matches our intentions.

We cannot continue to make big deals out of things that don’t matter. Let’s look at the big picture. God can handle the details.

We cannot continue demanding unobtainable perfection now. Everyone makes mistakes. It is through our weaknesses that God’s power is shown true.

We cannot continue manipulating people with fear or coercion. Love always wins.

We cannot continue burdening people with baggage and obstacles. The rules are simple: love God and love others.

We cannot continue our selfishness.

We can do better. Actually, we must do better.

I started writing this series as a way to answer a question I wrote in another post a couple of months ago. Why can’t we (American Christians) experience and worship God like Christians in Uganda.

But the more I write, the more I realize that I’m only scratching the surface.

We don’t experience God with wild devotion because we’re fixated on rules, on fitting in. We want to know what is in it for us. We are consumed by American ideals where the purpose in life is to get ahead. We’re focused on our needs instead of the needs of others.

But the true answer is so much more than that. It is so much deeper. I don’t have all the answers, but I do have these six barriers in the modern church; six things that we’re getting wrong. These are my small things that hopefully add up to bigger things. I hope this is a little change with drastic effects.

Part 1: Out of Place
Part 2: Believing the Right Things
Part 3: Imperfect Understanding
Part 4: The Theology of Fear
Part 5: The Theology of Extra Baggage
Part 6: Pushing and Pulling

Church Part 6: Pushing and Pulling

2011-06-10T05:34:00.000-07:00

Part 1: Out of Place
Part 2: Believing the Right Things
Part 3: Imperfect Understanding
Part 4: The Theology of Fear
Part 5: The Theology of Extra Baggage

When I was younger, my father told me that there would be a lot of Protestants surprised to see Catholics in Heaven. He also said there would be a lot of Catholics surprised to see Protestants in Heaven.

I think there will be a lot of people surprised to see Alice Cooper in Heaven.

When it comes to the afterlife, we seem to profess a firm understanding of who will make it and who will not. We walk through life identifying the sheep and goats as if it some sort of mental health diagnosis. Then we treat people in accordance of our assumptions.

Assumptions aren’t always correct. When we treat people based on their presumed worth, we begin to see them as something less than human. No matter how you rationalize it or try to gloss it up, the end result is always the same.

We push people away.

When we evaluate our place in the cosmos, we need to look at our relation to those around us. Are we pushing people away or pulling them closer?

Are we walking through life with our heads down and hands in our pockets? Or are we walking with our head high, ready to lend a hand?

Do we recognize the hurts and needs of our neighbors, or pass by because it’s none of our business?

Are our arms open or crossed across our chests?

Is it all about them or all about us?

We really only have two options. We can push people away from a relationship with their creator. Or we can pull them in and share with them the joy that we profess.

We’re like magnets. Attract. Or repel.

We too often approach religion wondering ‘what’s in it for me.’ I find it funny that we also take this attitude everywhere. We ask that of our government, our schools, our employers, our families.

It is selfishness. And it’s delusional.

The quest for self is a lie that ultimately dead ends. It isolates those who would naturally want to support you. When you are in constant pursuit of your own interests, people start losing interest in you. You end that journey alone.

It is this selfishness that breeds discontent. It breaks up marriages and families. Dissatisfied people quit their jobs. All looking for greener pastures.

Selfishness begins the steeplechase, church shopping, bouncing from one community to another in hopes that this one will be better for you.

If Christians can’t be happy with the church they’re attending, how can we expect anyone else to appreciate it? How can we draw in visitors and strangers in the same moment we’re running away?

We need to change this pattern.

We can’t create a church atmosphere that is welcoming and effective if we walk through the doors expecting to be the center of the universe. While we do need to find a church that fits us, we also need to be open to where we might fit. Instead of asking what the church is going to do for us, we need to look at what we can do for the church.

Think back to your time in high school. Which students seemed like they most enjoyed those four years? Was it the kids who showed up because they had to? Or was it the people who were involved in something. At my school it was the kids on the football and soccer team. The drama geeks and band nerds. The choir kids. DECA, FFA, and ASB. The yearbook staff. Doing something gave my peers ownership, made them feel like they were a part of something bigger than themselves. It made them appreciate it and enjoy it more than those that showed up just before first period and went straight home after the final bell.

Look at college life. The frat boys, the kids with athletic scholarships, the editorial staff at the student newspaper. The people who leave college with fond memories are usually those that were actively involved with some organization within the school.

I see it at work. Those that take an active interest in their job enjoy working there. Those that are there for a paycheck hate their job.

I see it in my community. The people who most love living here are often the same people who volunteer their time with non-profit organizations or are involved with civic groups.

The same is true in our churches. Generally speaking, the people most involved with some sort of ministry are happiest where they are.

There is a strange correlation between happiness and involvement.

If you want to go to a church that pulls people in, do something. Get involved. Some of my favorite times in a church were spent sitting behind a sound board or staying up late with a bunch of teenagers ten years younger than me.

Can you imagine what it would be like if everyone in your church did something? What would it be like if everyone volunteered in some aspect? The nursery would never be shorthanded. There would always be someone to greet visitors at the door. The bathrooms would always be spotlessly clean. The free coffee would always be hot and fresh. Every youth event would have enough adults to supervise the chaos. The lawn would always be mowed. Every electrical problem would be fixed. You could eat off the gym floor.

Would that be the kind of church that draws people in, or chases them away?

What about you? Would you be happy serving at a church like that?

I realize that this is a utopian church that (as far as I know) does not exist. But what if? What if we could make that a reality? What if we could stop being selfish for long enough to do something for someone else? What if we realized that we don’t see people the way God sees them? What if we treated people as if we were not their judge?

Would we be pulling them in or pushing them away?

Church Part 5: The Theology of Extra Baggage

2011-06-09T05:46:00.000-07:00

Part 1: Out of Place
Part 2: Believing the Right Things
Part 3: Imperfect Understanding
Part 4: The Theology of Fear

When we think of Jewish history and the laws that God gave his people, most will only think of the ten commandments. The story is familiar; Moses ascended the mountain of God and came back down with two stone tablets inscribed with ten rules.

Worship no other gods.
Do not make idols.
Do not take the name of God in vain.
Observe the Sabbath.
Honor your parents.
Do not murder.
Do not commit adultery.
Do not steal.
Do not lie about your neighbor.
Do not be jealous of your neighbor’s spouse, home, or possessions.

These laws are probably familiar to anyone growing up in the church and possibly taken for granted. These commandments are found in the middle of Exodus – the story of Israel’s escape from Egypt. The first half of the book is filled with well known stories, many of which have found their way into modern cinema. But the latter portion contains all of the rules not included in the famous list of ten.

The next three books – Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy – are a continuation of the laws for the people of Israel. (The ten commandments are even repeated early in Deuteronomy). These four books, along with the book of Genesis, compose the Jewish Torah (what the Christian church calls the Pentateuch).

A lot of Christians will read and/or skim through those five books for the historical narrative. First is the Garden of Eden, the flood, and Abraham’s biography. We read of struggles that Joseph endured and the enslavement of the Jewish people, followed by Moses’ burning bush and the plagues.

But when we get to the nitty gritty details of how they were supposed to live, many of us skip to the end. But those details were the source of passionate debate in Judaism. By the time Jesus showed up, the Jewish leaders had examined the Torah and compiled a definitive list of rules called the Mitzvot.

The Jewish Mitzvot is a fascinating study. But it isn’t a quick read.

We tend to think that those first five books of the Bible gives us ten solid rules followed by some instructions and general guidelines. But there is so much more. When the Jewish leaders and teachers compiled the Mitzvot, they interpreted those instructions and guidelines as rules. In all, the Mitzvot contains a total of 613 different rules or laws.

Somehow, we went from ten commandments to 613. Until some smart alec approached Jesus and asked, “What is the most important commandment?”

This was not a straightforward question. This wasn’t asking for a quick analysis of the ten rules delivered by Moses. This person was asking Jesus to filter through all 613 different laws and pick one that was the most important.

In essence, it was a trick question. If Jesus said that the most important law was to learn and teach the Torah, he’d have to justify why that was more important than celebrating the festivals. If Jesus’ answer focused on rituals of cleanliness, then his value of the Sabbath would be in doubt. There were so many rules that none could be singled out as the most important.

Jesus gave an answer that avoided the trap: Love God with all of your heart, soul, and mind. Then he added to love your neighbor as yourself. His reasoning was simple. The entirety of the law hung on those two commandments.

In other words, if you are acting in love – if your actions show love to God and your neighbor – then you are obeying Gods law. Not just part of it. All of it.

All ten commandments, all 613 rules in the Mitzvot, are fulfilled by two basic instructions. Love God. Love others.

It’s as if Jesus recognized the human proclivity to complicate things. We created 613 out of ten and we couldn’t handle it. Jesus told us it was all too much – we just needed two.

When I was volunteering as a youth leader, I had the privilege of travelling with the youth group to summer camps. Before leaving for the long drive into Canada, we’d review the expectations. Having grown up attending church camps all the way through my senior year of high school, I had become used to camp rules: show up to meals and chapel on time, must pass swimming test before you’re allowed to swim in the lake, no weapons, no drugs, no personal electronics, no making out in the woods.

The youth pastor I worked with simplified those rules down to one: don’t be an idiot.

When you’re a teenager, it can be difficult to remember all those dos and don’ts. But one rule? Don’t be an idiot? Now that should be easy to remember.

When it comes to the basis of Christian faith, the rules for salvation are equally simple. That whoever calls on the name of the Lord will be saved. In the book of Acts, Paul and Silas tell their jailer that all he needed to do to be saved was to believe in Jesus. In Romans, Paul writes that we are saved if we proclaim with our mouths and believe with our hearts.

The formula is so simple, yet many churches want to complicate it. We think it’s too easy. We think there must be something more. Christians turn into amateur mathematicians because the equation belief = salvation isn’t logical. So we try to come up with other formulas that make more sense.

Belief + good works = Salvation
Belief + tithes = Salvation
Belief + speaking in tongues = Salvation.
Belief + specifically worded prayer = Salvation
Belief - science - education + a little bit of crazy = Salvation

None of it works. God only created one avenue to Salvation because it is simple. One way and that is through faith alone. Belief plus anything else discounts the power of Grace. Belief plus anything is extra baggage.

God’s Grace outweighs anything else that we could do, say, or give. Grace, if earned, would no longer be grace. It would be something else. If we could earn our salvation, we wouldn’t need saved.

Let’s look back at the real formula again. Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.

The sad part about the modern church is that we profess a belief in the Bible as the true and inspired word of God, yet overlook certain sections.

The word ‘everyone’ is often over looked. We try too hard to make exceptions to that rule.

Everyone except addicts.
Everyone except bikers.
Everyone except ex-cons.
Everyone except the homeless.
Everyone except for single parents.
Everyone except anyone that might make us uncomfortable.

We also try to create value equations where some actions are greater than or lesser than other behaviors.

Missing church > working on Sundays
Abortion > child abuse
Alcoholism in private < alcoholism in public

Getting pregnant out of wedlock > premarital sex
Infidelity < homosexuality

This sin > that sin

This strategy fails because it bypasses the Grace of God. It assumes we have the power to decide who is worthy of God’s love.

All we accomplish by trying to rewrite God’s formula is creating extra baggage. We add burdens to bear. We set up hurdles to jump. We set ourselves up in the place of God.

We are not God. We are not the judge of all mankind.

When we try to take His place, all we are really doing is rejecting His Grace. If we’re not receiving Grace, how can we ever expect to show grace to others?

Church Part 4: The Theology of Fear

2011-06-08T05:45:00.000-07:00

Part 1: Out of Place
Part 2: Believing the Right Things
Part 3: Imperfect Understanding

I love scary movies. Those movie moments of pure terror stick with me. Samara crawling out of Noah’s TV in The Ring. The “sloth” victim waking up in Se7ev. The six spirits identifying themselves to Father Moore in The Exorcism of Emily Rose. Lisa and Jenny discovering the entire population of Snowfield has disappeared in Phantoms. The lights going out in Pitch Black. The egg hatching from inside Kane’s chest in Alien. The twins in the hall and REDRUM from The Shining. Here’s Johnny.

I get frightening. Scary makes sense.

Neural pathways transport data to a place in our brain called the amygdala. The amygdala sorts through the stimuli and tells us what is significant and prompts our emotional response. This is home to our fight or flight instincts. Because of the amygdala, we feel fear and panic. It causes our hearts to race and our breathing to quicken. It makes us sweat and leaves a metallic taste on the tongue. Our skin tingles and we experience inescapable dread.

Fear is an excellent motivator. It is the art of self preservation.

When we’re in danger, we seek safety. Either we freeze in panic or we lash out in defense of ourselves and others. The things that scare us also prod us into battle.

Terror provokes and demands a reaction.

That’s the allure of horror movies. We get to experience the anxiety and trepidation without real danger. The characters on screen might not have escaped with their lives intact, but we survive as the credits roll then go out for ice cream and laugh about how we almost peed ourselves. We get to be scared without making any decisions to preserve our well-being.

Fear is a fantastic catalyst, but only if the danger is present and perceivable.

Scary movies rarely inspire change. No one stayed home from the prom because they watched Carrie, and that movie didn’t end school bullying. People still take showers, even after watching Psycho. I may not think of fava beans and chianti in a positive light after Silence of the Lambs, but I don’t worry that they might one day accompany an entrée of my liver.

I love scary movies, but they don’t inspire long term changes in my habits. I know that Freddy doesn’t haunt my dreams, so I am not leery of sleep. I am not paranoid about a possible rage virus turning North Idaho into a zombie paradise. The frightening moments in cinema never give me reason to fear my real life. (There is one exception. I sat shaking in my car for 15 minutes after watching Event Horizon before I was calm enough to drive out of the theater parking lot.) The motivation to react disappears once the movie ends.

Fear works if you want someone to do something now, but it is rarely effective in making a lasting difference.

Fear has become the church’s crutch.

Have you noticed this?

Rather than delivering truth in love and presenting a message of hope and reconciliation, many Christians take truth and turn it into a weapon – preaching a message of fear.

Many groups are predicting that the world is going to end in 2012 or whatever date happens to be in vogue. (A few passionate believers are warning the world that the date of the rapture is October 21, 2011 after their original prediction of May 21st passed without incident.) Others tell people “you’re going to Hell.” Some stand on street corners and hold up ridiculously offensive signs. They pass out tracts that are vaguely threatening and warn of the dangers of sin.

They all seem so angry.

Rather than trying to save the unsaved or love the unloved, this message of fear paints outsiders as enemies.

When was the last time you asked your enemy for advice? Or sat with them over a cup of coffee and talked about life?

In war, you would want to scare your enemy. Instilling fear in your opponent and a liberal dose of trash talking might help you win a game of basketball. But how many lives have been changed for the better because of scare tactics?

I’ve shared a story here before about a church in Boise that approached a group I was hanging out with one Saturday night. It was a cruise night and we were down town, so this band of militant Christians probably thought we were as morally devoid as every other pagan flooding the streets of B Town. They were handing out tracts and were offended when we declined their offers. They insisted that we would go to Hell if we did not accept Jesus as our Lord and Savior.

They either ignored us or didn’t believe us when we told them that we were Christians – that we were all on the same team. The confrontation ended with them stomping off and telling us to go to Hell.

There are so many things that are wrong with that strategy of ministry. It’s sad and disgusting. I call it manipulative.

Yet, when I talk to people who aren’t Christians, it seems they’ve all had a similar experience. They’ve all shared a story about someone using fear to manipulate them into a relationship with Jesus.

I think we can all sense that this is wrong, yet this is a tool that some churches have come to rely on.

Why do some people cling to such a horrible strategy?

It is used because they don’t understand the effects of fear. Psychologists (most of them) will tell you that the best way to overcome your fears is to face them. My hiking partner throughout my teen years was deathly afraid of heights. He overpowered his phobia by climbing various mountains in the Northern Cascades. He faced what frightened him by standing on top of a precarious peak with the world below him, by traversing trails etched into a hillside that dropped into a deep and perilous valley.

A girl I work with is irrationally afraid of mismatched straws. When I order coffee at the drive-thru stand a block away from our office, I ask them to give me two straws with two different colors so that I can walk by her desk with the Bobbsey Twins of straws protruding from my cup. I email her pictures of radically different straws bunched together. I hint that I have straws with me when I call her extension. I think she’s making progress in conquering her phobia.

The effects of fear are (or were) powerful for these two people because their source of alarm was clear and present. It was there. Something they could see, feel, or tangibly grasp. It was something that could be defeated.

Once you have adjusted to something that previously scared you, it begins to lose its power. That is why fear as a motivator is a bad long term plan. Fear loses its sway. The influence fades and the call to action is gone. Once my coworker overcomes her fear of mismatched straws, I can no longer use those straws to motivate her into professional compliance.

No matter what beliefs you have about Hell, its power to frighten people fades over time. It starts as a big place of constant burning and torture. We want to avoid it. The fear drives us to obey all the rules that the church tells us will help us escape the fate of fire and brimstone. Then it begins to lose its charm. It becomes that place where sinners go, and eventually it evaporates from our consciousness. We stop thinking of it as a place of weeping and teeth grinding. We stop thinking of it at all. The fear is gone, and no longer inspires.

The strategy of fear is used because they don’t understand the fear of God. They know the Bible tells us to fear God, but fail to grasp how to execute that command. To fear God, they treat Him as if he is a creature to be reviled like Nosferatu. The Bible also tells us that those who fear God are those who trust in His love.

You can’t have it both ways. God can’t be a monster and be filled with love.

C.S. Lewis had a better perspective on fearing God. When the kids in his book The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe first learn of Aslan, Susan asks if he is safe. When they meet Aslan, they discover that he is both good and terrible. The idea wasn’t that Aslan was as vicious as a common predator or devious like the book’s villain, the White Witch. One couldn’t be both good and bad – that would be an insurmountable contradiction. Terrible meant that he was uncontainable and wild. He inspired respect and reverence. The kids knew that he was safe enough to hug, yet dangerous enough to carve out their digestive tract with a flick of his claw.

That is called awe. It is being in the presence of something bigger than yourself. Something so amazing that your vocabulary is insufficient in describing its greatness. So, powerful that it defies understanding.

You are afraid. Not because you fear your safety, but because you realize there is no room for carelessness.

I experienced this from the edge of a rock on top of a mountain. We were above the tree line and alpine meadows with panoramic vistas everywhere our eyes turned. Once on top of the mountain, I walked out from the safety of the fire lookout and scampered across massive boulders to find the one with the best view. From the edge of that rock was a seven hundred foot vertical drop. I was afraid.

It wasn’t a fear of heights type of fear. It was an understanding of the potential perils around me. Good enough to stand there and enjoy the scenery, yet dangerous enough to know that one misplaced step could send me plummeting into a fall that I most likely would not survive.

The fear of God is not the plot of a horror movie. It is a healthy respect.

The strategy of fear is used because they don’t understand the power of love. Fear is the absence of love. The writer of 1 John wrote, “There is no fear in love … perfect love drives out fear.”

Fright (true terror) and love cannot coexist. They are complete opposites.

The Bible also tells us that God is love. If love and fear are opposites and love is the very definition of God, then God has nothing to do with fear and loathing.

Preaching with a message of fear is ultimately empty because God is not there.

People should not follow God in fear that He will smite us if we make a mistake or have a bad hair day. People shouldn’t worship God because he is terrifying. People should never be manipulated into belief.

Church Part 3: Imperfect Understanding

2011-06-07T05:28:00.000-07:00

Part 1: Out of Place
Part 2: Believing the Right Things

Last time I checked, I was human. I am made of skin, bones, water, and muscle (and a little more fat than I’d care to admit). Air fills my lungs. Blood pumps through my veins. Innumerable synapses allow me to process thought.

Chances are (if you’re reading this) you are human like me. You’re probably taller than me. Possibly better looking. But we are all human beings.

I am a lot of things. I am a husband. A father. A son. A friend. A geek. A fan of music, arts, and culture.

But there is one thing I am not. I’m not perfect.

We as humans like to think we are – as if perfection is an obtainable objective. Most rappers say they’re the best rapper alive. If you look at the top professional athletes, they will tell you that they’re the best; Shaquille O'Neal even has his own TV show where he attempts to prove he is the best at everything. Pharmaceutical commercials try to sell the idea that your sex life, your emotional well-being, your physical health are all imperfect without their medications.

Our culture tells us that perfection is possible, and often demands it.

A few years ago, I went to a business seminar to listen to a writer speak – one of the authors of Egonomics. He talked about ego as a vital asset and that success is a healthy balance between ego and humility. Not enough ego and we’re weak. Too much and we’re a pompous fool. Yet to be successful, he said, you have to be a little full of yourself.

I find it funny that the English word “I” translates to “Εγώ” (pronounced ‘ego’) in the ancient Greek language. I am my ego.

There is a fatal flaw in the employment of ego and perfection. Being the best, or at least better than everyone else.

It doesn’t work.

Success only happens if we’re better. Life tells us that we must be the best if we want to succeed. Anything else is failure.

But we’re not perfect. We all make mistakes. There will always be someone bigger, better, stronger, faster, cooler, or smarter. We will never measure up. Even if (for a moment) we were to reach some flash of perfection, that moment is fleeting. Someone will outdo us.

If I have to be better than you to succeed, then you have to be better than me in order to see any sense of achievement. We’re not friends, we’re competitors.

And the prize is hollow. It is too lofty or too abstract. Excellence is possible, yet overlooked in pursuit of an illusion. The trouble is that we believe a lie. We believe that perfection is a short term goal – that the shiny pinnacle of flawlessness can be ours tomorrow. It is a life time pursuit; the apostle Paul said it best when he compared life to running a race. In Philippians, he stressed the point that he had not yet obtained the prize and that he was pressing on to that goal.

We’re not done yet; if we’re placing bets that we can finish early, we are setting ourselves up for failure and disappointment.

That is a tragic way to go through life.

It is also a horrible way to approach church.

This American attitude of one-upmanship has permeated the religious community. It’s as if becoming a Christian is some sort of competition to be fought and won.

And it’s not just a conflict of the faithful versus the pagans. Too often it is one church against another.

We have taken our differences of opinion and turned them into weapons of war. When one combatant begins to trash the other, this supposedly safe place – this sacred house of worship – looks more like a battleground to outsiders.

This is supposed to be a family of believers, not a mêlée. Whatever happened to unity in essentials and liberty in nonessentials?

Does it really matter which church has the biggest congregation? Or the hippest programs? Or the most relevant sermons? Or the most outreach opportunities? Or the most metrosexual worship leader? I tire of hearing people tell me why their pastor, or their praise music, or their church is better than another.

A coworker once asked me if I went to church. I told her yes. She was quiet for a while, probably worried that she would offend me.

Then she said, “I went to church once. It sounded like a sales pitch.”

Jesus isn’t a commodity. Neither is the church. If you have to sell it, you’re doing something wrong.

Selling God, fighting over God, trying to make your denomination better than the others. It all makes us sound like a herd of squabbling idiots.

Once someone steps past those hurdles, walks through the doors of their chosen church, the expectation of perfection continues. You need to dress under ambiguous guidelines. You must learn to speak Christianese. Your actions must be governed by a code of conduct with written and unwritten rules.

And we as Christians say we accept people where they’re at and encourage growth, but too often those that don’t measure up to our expectations are looked at as undeserving of the love that God has given to the rest of us.

If they overcome the lofty expectations and endure the judgments, the modern church has created even more barriers to welcoming those that most need God.

Perhaps you’ve noticed it. The masses fill the pews. They sing songs. A basket is passed around then a sharp dressed man stands up front and talks. He sounds like he knows what he talks about. He’s the pastor – he’s the expert. If you look around you can see it on the faces of the crowd. It’s as if people entered the building, took their assigned seat, and opened up their craniums for the pastor to dump the word of God into their consciousness.

There’s no intellectual processing. The sermon is taken at face value.

Granted this is not a wholesale affliction and I hate to paint with such a broad brush. There are many people who digest and apply what they hear at church, but there is another population that uses church as the one time a week where they can go and feel holy. It’s the only place they hear or read scripture. They don’t think about whether or not they’re getting sound teaching. It’s nothing more than a massive intake of data before continuing life with the same operating standards. The difference between the two groups is obvious. And it is staggering.

It makes strangers feel like questions are not allowed. Even for people like me who have grown up in the church, there is an overwhelming sense that tough questions are verboten and that certain subjects are taboo. It is too easy to get the impression that doubt is a sign of weakness.

But I say that doubt is essential for faith. Doubt leads to honest questions. To question is to understand. Understanding leads to faith. Faith and understanding are the foundations of belief.

Belief needs both elements. Pure understanding ignores the divine. It precludes wonder and awe. Faith without understanding is naïveté and overlooks the biblical call to reason together.

We were never meant to have the Bible dumped on us. We should never just listen to someone talk about it. Biblical study was intended to be a group effort. We are supposed to explorer it, discuss it, and question the parts that don’t make sense. Humans learn better when we learn together.

I could study alone as much as I want, but what if I’m wrong? I could just listen to a pastor, but what if he’s wrong? Discussion brings clarity.

I say this because I realize that I am not perfect. Because I’m not perfect, I accept that my understanding of God is incomplete. If I’m not faultless, it is safe to assume that those around me are also fallible. After all, we’re only human.

And so are the strangers who come to visit.

We might have a good idea what everything means. But we can’t know it all. That’s why we must press on to the goal ahead. That makes the competition and the fighting irrelevant. That makes the demands for instant perfection unreasonable. That makes the expectations for visitors and newcomers a bit silly.

This is a race, not a war. We’re all in this together with imperfect understanding. If you want to obtain perfection, you need to be in it for the long haul.

The prize is ours when the race ends. But I am not yet done.

Church Part 2: Believing the Right Things

2011-06-06T05:31:00.000-07:00

I used to believe that smoking mattered. I used to believe that smokers couldn’t possibly be Christians and that a pack a day was as good as damnation.

Then I met Mikee Bridges.

Mikee was the vocalist of one of my favorite bands, Sometime Sunday. He had started another band, Tragedy Ann, as an outlet with a stronger evangelical focus. He created the TOM Music Festivals and opened a few Christian clubs in the Portland area. He’s now the director of Epic Ministries.

When I met him, he was taking a drag off of a cigarette.

I was 19 at the time, young and still naïve about the world beyond my sheltered and conservative upbringing. I had friends that smoked, but none of them were Christians. Here was Mikee: someone that I respected, someone who was active in ministry. He was smoking.

It was a culture shock.

I was raised to believe that things like smoking and drinking were grievous sins. Yet this man, who professed the same Christ, worshiped the same God, believed in the same gospel, was not only smoking – but seemingly saw nothing wrong with his actions.

More than a culture shock – it was weird.

Mikee understood something that I had yet to comprehend. The condition of a man’s heart is more important than the contents of his pockets. The soul is of greater worth than the lungs. The message of salvation is more important than a pack of Marlboros.

That encounter didn’t revolutionize all my ways of thinking, but it did spark a different view of those who smoke. God loved them just as much as He loved me. Smokers were just as capable of sharing Jesus as non-smokers.

It’s not that my belief that smoking was bad was the wrong thing to think. It just wasn’t the right thing.

We could talk about how a smoking habit is a waste of money and that the dollars spent on smokes could be better used to help feed and care for the poor. The same could be said of Christians who buy brand name clothing instead of thrift shop fashion. But in many churches, smoking is seen as a greater evil than buying trendy clothes.

We could talk about how smoking is unhealthy and pollutes the body. The same could be said about eating fast food two or three nights a week. Yet many churches see no wrong in a fast food diet.

Sure, Christians shouldn’t smoke. But I don’t think that statement is exclusive to the religious community. It is a universal truth that smoking is unhealthy (as is binge drinking or fast food indulgence). Your religious beliefs do not change that fact.

It’s not wrong to think that smoking is bad, but in the light of eternity there are bigger issues.

What is the greatest commandment? To breathe deeply with all of you lungs? To break the habit before you approach God?

Jesus told us that all of the law is built upon two commands: Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, and mind; and love your neighbor as yourself. The book of Romans says that loving your neighbor is the sum of all of the commandments.

If all you do is love God and love your neighbor, you are following God’s law.

Says nothing of smoking.

It’s not that my beliefs were wrong. I just didn’t believe the right things.

Too many Christians believe they’re always supposed to vote for Republicans, even when the Republican candidate’s beliefs contradict the teachings of Jesus.

Too many Christians believe that homosexuality is threatening the sanctity of marriage, yet they never stop to worry about the divorce rate within the church.

Too many Christians rally against abortion, but do nothing to help the abused and neglected children in their community.

Too many Christians complain about the decline of American values while they don’t truly understand Biblical values.

Too many Christians preach the unconditional love of God and live as if there are prerequisites required to earn that love.

Too many Christians fret over the details and forget the big picture of love, hope, and reconciliation.

What if we believed in things that truly mattered? What if we believed that the cost to provide clean drinking water to every person on earth was equal to the amount of money Americans spent on ice cream in a single year? What if we believed that 80% of the world’s population lives in poverty? What if we believed that the suicide rate in America is increasing every year – most suffering from depression, addiction, or mental health issues? What if we believed that 60% of American teenagers acknowledge drugs being sold or used on their school campus? What if we believed 25% of high school kids will not graduate on time? What if we believed that we have the power to make a difference in this world?

Would it change the way we viewed those that many churches treat as outsiders?

Would the church be a more welcoming place to those who are far from God?

What if we believed that God’s love was relentless? What if I believe that He loves smokers with the same reckless abandon that He gives to me?

Church Part 1: Out of Place

2011-06-05T06:39:00.000-07:00

We all want to belong. That is one of the core human desires. Religious cults prey on it. Urban gangs manipulate it. Corporate advertizing capitalizes off of it.

We long to feel like we’re a part of something. That is why we join clubs and cheer for our favorite sports teams. It is how we choose the community where we want to live and raise our families. It is a factor in the churches we attend. It is at the heart of every competition, every election, and every social hierarchy.

It is simple. We want to be loved, and (more importantly) we want to be liked. We want people who accept us for who we are – just as we are. When we feel like those around us love us, like us, and approve of who we are as a person, we feel safe.

The places where we should most experience this sense of belonging are often unloving. We should feel protected and accepted at home, but too many homes are broken or abusive. Kids should feel safe at school but our schools are overcrowded, understaffed, and ill-equipped to handle the needs of every student.

We should feel loved at church.

Yet we don’t.

I shouldn’t say “we” in some wide generalization. There are people who fit with their church. They love their fellow parishioners and feel like they belong there.

But if you ask around, you’ll find a frequent theme among those that don’t go to church. Someone somewhere hurt them. They were rejected. They were shunned. They were insulted. Church is a naughty word. Church is a source of pain. Church is a place of condemnation. Church is a place where words and actions do not logically coexist. They come looking for love and they find shame.

For many, church is nothing more than a den of hypocrites and pious jerks. It was Gandhi who said, “I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians.”

Brennan Manning said, “The single greatest cause of atheism in the world today is Christians, who acknowledge Jesus with their lips, then walk out the door, and deny Him by their lifestyle.”

I don’t think churches do this on purpose. It’s not a part of some grand conspiracy to frighten away the heathens. No genuine church has hostility written into their mission statement. Most Christians believe that their church is a safe place for non-believers to visit. Yet there seems to be some hidden social structure in religious populations that is foreign to outsiders and has translated into something unwelcoming.

How did we get here?

Why is there a disparity between what our churches are and what they should be?

In the interest of full disclosure, I should give you some background. My church history would best be described as awkward.

I grew up as an outcast.

My family attended a church where my dad was once the youth pastor. When he left the ministry, we stayed there. The people of that church were good people with heartfelt intentions, but the demographics were predominantly older; many of the elderly had attended since the church’s founding. There were a lot of rules, a few of which were unspoken.

I was out of place there, yet that’s the church I attended until I was 20 years old.

I felt like I didn’t belong economically. The church wasn’t a wealthy group of citizens. There were affluent people there, but for the most part it was a church of middle class Christians in a middle class suburb. My family was poor. Even though I wouldn’t describe the kids I grew up with as rich, it was clear that they were better off than me. They lived in nicer and newer homes. I lived in a hundred year old farmhouse in need of updating and repair. Their dads worked for Boeing. My dad was a commission only salesman.

I felt like I didn’t belong socially. I was the geek in a crowd of cool kids. My peers were all tall, athletic, and attractive. I was short, uncoordinated, and kind of homely. They were sporty and I was artsy. And I couldn’t hide. My youth group averaged twenty kids, while the biggest youth group in our town averaged three hundred. I could have blended in at that other youth group, but I was stuck with the kids who were all infinitely more interesting than me. (Yet I still consider many of them friends.)

I felt like I didn’t belong fashionably. That was one of the unspoken rules. You were supposed to wear your Sunday best anytime you walked in through the church's entrance. It was as if wearing jeans to Sunday morning services was a sin. To go against this tradition was a sure way to draw looks of scorn and/or curiosity. Somehow the Nazarene church – a denomination founded on a ‘come as you are’ theology – evolved into a ‘come as you are as long as you’re properly dressed’ kind of place.

All those pesky rules.

I felt like I didn’t belong legally. Those rules didn’t completely make sense to me. I couldn’t understand why dancing wasn’t allowed. If King David danced naked (or nearly naked) before God, why couldn’t I do it with my clothes on? Why was alcohol forbidden when Jesus and his disciples drank wine? Why was it a sin to watch movies at the theater while it was acceptable to watch movies at home?

I wish I could say things changed when I started attending church as an adult.

The first church Bekah and I attended in North Idaho was another of those awkward situations. The pastor is one of the best preachers I’ve ever heard. The people there were the caring type. Yet I still felt out of place. The men there were sportsmen and the first Sunday of hunting season was sparsely attended. I don’t hunt or fish so I was usually the only adult male in the congregation (other than the pastor) on that Sunday. Some there believed that a man’s holiness could be measured by the length of his beard. And others there believed that guitars were tools of the devil.

I didn’t belong.

As a thirty something who didn’t grow up here; a data analyst who would rather stare at a computer than a car engine; a nerd that would rather play Halo than wade into a river with a fishing pole; a person who finds value in art, theater, and rap music; I am finding myself as the misfit of the religious community.

I am having a hard time finding somewhere I belong. I am quickly becoming disillusioned with church.

Not because I don’t believe. I want my kids in church. I long to worship with fellow believers. I crave fellowship. I want to be a part of a community that is wholly devoted to the call of Christ.

It’s not as easy as I once imagined it would be.

So I get it. I get why many non-churched people don’t want to go. I get why so many people think of church as a place of painful memories.

If all we really want is to be loved – to belong – why would we want to go somewhere where we’re not valued, not appreciated, or not liked?