Thursday, April 29, 2010

Faith Lost

I have followed with interest the news stories of Laura Bush releasing her biography, Spoken From The Heart. The single story that the reporters are focusing on is her admission that she "lost" her faith after a 1963 car crash in which a classmate was killed. She accepts responsibility for the crash, apparently visiting with a friend in the car and ran a stop sign. Tragedy, guilt, remorse, pain, and ultimately a "loss of faith" are her scars from that event. I haven't read the book, but intend to. But several thoughts have swirled around in my head since hearing and reading these announcements of the release of the book.

The first reaction was simply, "Yep, I've been there." I think anyone who approaches this journey with even a single grain of honesty understands that faith abandonment is going to happen. We live in a realm where we can't ever see what we claim to believe in. This makes it extraordinarily difficult to keep up a good front. Life simply conspires to drive us down, and we are asked draw our strength from what some would call an absentee owner. I have written before about the "Thundering Silence" that frequently accompanies deep crisis in the life of the believer, it is more common than most of us are willing to admit. At some level I lose faith a little bit everyday, then come across a moment that restores all the faith, renews the hope, and gives me the will to move on. I really appreciate the honesty that it takes for someone to freely admit that they have lost faith. I think it is the first step back to regaining what was lost.

Secondly, I'm not sure we understand the phrase "lost faith" quite the same. There are times when my spirit drops low enough for me to question the existence, or at least the effectiveness, of God in our world. Descartes might make the point that if we question the existence of God we are already admitting that we believe He exists (I love philosophers, they make me feel good about the most perplexing questions) So I come back to the idea that in my wrestling with the concept of God, I am affirming my willingness to believe. Get it? I'm having a hard time explaining, but maybe if we can agree that there are people out there who don't care about all this, then at least my concern reveals a heart turned toward God. Whew.

Finally, faith is a creature that stays hidden sometimes and reveals itself only long after a crisis. Sometimes it even surprises us when we realize that we are calm in the midst of a storm, and shouldn't be. I found out 20+ years ago that the worst time to evaluate your faith is in the midst of a terrible event. The best thing to do at that moment is to believe that the God we serve is merciful and can forgive our anger/depression/heart-brokenness. It is like when our kids are little and have a terrible time with something and we try to hug them close and they fight and cry and lash out at us, but we gather in their struggling arms and legs and push their crying eyes close to our breast and calm them. We hold them close amidst the crying and struggling, rocking back and forth, shushing them with our love, and never question that we love them and they love us...even though they might at that moment claim they have no faith in our love for them. We forgive that child-ness in them because we know they will, in time, understand.

Godspeed, there are times when we have to believe that the path we are on, the journey we have undertaken will lead us home.
Don

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Invaders

Years ago I used to eat lunch at McD's. It was quick, it was easy, it was cheap, it was not particularly good for me. I knew what I wanted, I could eat in Dallas or Denver, or Detroit and it all tasted the same. No surprises. Then they put in those plastic, child-eating, in-door playgrounds. The place was instantly invaded by a crowd of toddlers. Sigh. So I had to find somewhere else to go.

Then I found Chik-fil-A. Better food, cleaner restrooms, nice people. I could eat some chicken strips with ice tea and calmly enjoy my meal. About this time I began to notice that they were putting in those in-door playgrounds. Uh oh. Here they came. Hordes of soccer moms in their huge shiny Suburbans and Tahoes, ready to run me and my little Ranger down trying to get to the best parking spot. As I would stand in line it occurred to me that there seemed to be factory somewhere stamping out these young women and their kids. You know the ones I mean, blonde hair pulled back through their little baseball caps, jogging suits with contrast stripes, and kids...lots and lots of kids. I can almost look at them and guess the year model, that one is an '80 model, that is an '78 with some after-market upgrades. For self preservation alone I had to find a new place.

About a week ago I was having an early lunch before a job interview at my favorite restaurant..Panera Bread. As I sat there and ate my salad I noticed a young mom come in with a toddler in tow and an infant in a stroller. Being the grandaddy I am, I smiled and enjoyed watching her unfold, unpack, and settle in. How cute, what memories. Then another showed up, and another, and another. You have GOT to be kidding! I was trapped by a convoy of strollers and diaper bags and kids! I wanted to jump up on the table and shout at them that this was MY place, there are no playgrounds, no chicken strips, no changing tables! Is there no place sacred?!? Isn't there any place I can go to escape the invaders? So I bolted out of the place before some grimy little hands smeared peanut butter on my slacks.

Finally I figured out a phenomenon in our society. Luby's. 4 o'clock. I don't like the food, don't like eating dinner at 4PM, don't enjoy eating with an entire restaurant full of retirees. But it is the only place in America that is toddler- soccer mom-playground-proof. Probably none of the folks in there like the idea of eating displaced hospital food in the middle of the afternoon either, but it is the only place where they can park, not get run down by an SUV, and eat in peace and quiet, and not break a hip tripping on a stroller getting out. So I guess the Luanne platter is in my future.

Godspeed to all you old coots, see you at 4.
Don

Monday, April 26, 2010

Mission's End?

This morning when checking my emails I received the message that the group we were going to join for a mission trip to Mexico was cancelling their trip. The violence had gotten too severe in the location where we were headed. The hotels where we had stayed for two of the last three trips had been the scene of the latest kidnappings. When we looked at the pictures from the news stories it was in the lobbies where we would gather before loading the buses to the worksites. It was a little chilling to realize that the Mexican military was blockaded from the hotels by the cartels involved in the kidnappings. So the man who had started the mission effort 25+ years ago had made the decision to suspend all group trips to Mexico for this summer.

We were saddened. My bride had made the trip for all but one of the efforts for the past 13 or 14 years. I had witnessed her willingness to step in beside teenage boys and girls and shovel gravel, pour concrete, cut rebar, clear brush, build forms, dig trenches, handle an electric-powered jack hammer, tie concrete forms, haul lumber, handle a wheelbarrow, and drop to one knee and visit with a three-year-old from the local church in the heart language of God's people. It was not uncommon for us to blow out the tennis shoes we wore, tear holes in the work gloves, ruin tee-shirts with wet concrete stains, and give away bags of hard candy. You can look at pictures from years gone by and see the same old visor she wore on each trip, I have an old hat that is beyond repair, but a reminder that there is work to do, and it is work that requires sweat and labor, faith and trust, love and hope. Only in the past few years have we roomed together on our trips. For all the earlier trips we were room chaperons for the kids we went with. The girls always loved having my bride as their chaperon, the guys always put up with my being theirs. But we were always reminded that the work is important, that it was up to us to do it, that it was a small price to pay for the gratifying accomplishment of spending a week doing precisely what we felt the Lord was calling us to.

So how can this come to an end? There are a number of explanations that leap to mind.
It is too dangerous. Let me tell you that I believe that mission is never safe. We have a very narrow view of mission if one of the requirements is that it be as safe as Vacation Bible School. While every precaution was taken to ensure safety (Rick used to tell us that if anyone were seriously hurt or killed, then the effort of building churches in Mexico was over)the risk was always there.

Perhaps this stoppage is temporary. The work will continue when the work environment is better. This could be, Rick is reaching the age where he is ready to finish the work he has started. This effort has been driven by his stubborn refusal to be thwarted. So perhaps someone else will pick it up, or it shifts to other locations.

It could be that the work as it is currently done is over. God has chosen to shift to the next level, the next iteration of the work in Mexico. The church may not need more buildings, but more leaders, more followers. This is Spirit work. I think God may be willing to let the work shift more to disciple-building, and less concrete pouring. Are we ready to help there? The American churches have far more man-power and money than spiritual discernment, so I'm not sure how much help we might be. As the scripture says, "Some will sow and others will reap." Perhaps we need to be content with our role as "sowers."

My bride and I are sad. We have had to find other groups going that will let us tag along, but we have made great friends, laughed about the work, struggled with the setbacks. We hugged this morning and wondered if this portion of what we do is over. We can still work (not as fast or as hard as before) but are stopped because of the sin in the world. It seems that Satan has temporarily won the battle, the war is far from over. We want to go back, there is nothing quite like having Rick say to us, "You are a pretty good Mexican." This is his highest praise.

Godspeed out there. Two seasoned missionaries are ready to roll, keep us in mind.
Don

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Tears of a Clown

This past week has been something of a roller-coaster. Usually we try to handle the ups and downs with as much aplomb as possible. But every once in a while the emotions are just beneath the surface, looking for an opportunity to come bubbling out.

The first thing that happened almost got by us without any fanfare at all. I don't "facebook", but my bride does. One morning last week she sent me an email that was copied from our son-in-law's facebook page. As most of you know our eldest daughter is a three-time cancer soldier. It started when she was eleven, reoccurred when she was twenty-one, then again three years ago after the birth of our granddaughter. It is through this twenty-odd year journey that I have developed most of my thoughts and opinions on prayer and guidance and mercy and God's mission and all the other big theological distinctives. They don't necessarily line up with my tribe's conventional wisdom, but they are hard earned feelings. We have experienced the devastating news of recurrence, and we have endured the slow rebuilding of faith. The news he reported was that the oncologist had told them that the tumors in her liver were too small to be called tumors any longer. Stunning news, overwhelming news, news almost missed due to my lack of techno involvement. So how do I react to this news? Did I jump for joy? did I shout? Did I fist-pump? No, I cried. Deep, thankful, humiliation inducing tears.

Saturday we joined my youngest in a March of Dimes walk. We were on Team Lincoln. for some reason his battle in NICU for the first month of his life has transformed my youngest into an activist. Who knew? It was a 5 mile walk (just about 18 holes) As we moved along there were little signs that "honored" this child and that who had been born preemies, or birth defects (like Lincoln) and usually showed a smiling young child, growing and healthy and a blessing to their families. There were other signs, though, signs that said, "In Memory" These broke my heart. I tried to read each one, but the emotional battle became too fierce. For, you see, I was fighting back tears while walking. Hopes and dreams and futures dashed before they could be realized. Unfortunately, I could more than understand the pain and the need to move on, like our walk, seeing some signs of hope and joy, and other signs of "what could have been."

And then there was my daughter-in-law having to go to the hospital in a panic that there was something going wrong with her pregnancy. She is 7 months along, they had a very hard time getting pregnant, and each little bobble rightly creates a lot of anxiety. As soon as we heard that not-yet-born Isaac was okay, and mom was okay, and things would progress normally, we finally let our guard down a little. My son was apprehensive and as we ran for food at a nearby restaurant we talked. The concern in his voice and the fear that this might not end well again broke my heart. Now here is where maturity helps a little. Advice about how to handle this was flying out of my mouth before I had a chance to stop it. It occurred to me that the wisdom came from 20 years of praying, making mistakes, losing hope, gaining faith, learning to baton down the hatches and cope. I have no idea if he heard any of this, but he seemed to respond. Now when I got alone...I cried.

So here is my question. Since when did this become my response to good news, bad news, joyous news, worrisome news. I hate it when I cry. I feel like an idiot. Worse yet I feel like my kids are going to slap me in a home for the emotionally unstable.

"Doc, he just keeps bursting into tears. We can't handle it anymore."
"Hmm, perhaps we can try some shock therapy, or maybe there is something else wrong."
"Well, fix it. He's a mess."

I suspect it is the loss of control. It has come as a slow realization that in most of life's circumstances we have very little control. Of course when we do have control we usually screw it up, so I'm not sure why we such as fixation on it. It does help a little that the one I follow was called a "man of tears". He understood the value of tears as an expression of deep feelings, of great passions. But it still exasperates me that at those moments words fail me and tears are the only way to communicate my emotions. I would prefer erudition, but what I get are tears, tears of a clown. Sigh.

Anyway, here's hoping for a calm week. No news is good news.

Godspeed
Don

Thursday, April 15, 2010

TOO MUCH CAFFEINE!!!

I CAN'T WRITE ANY COHERENT THOUGHTS TODAY! STARBUCKS HAS FREE COFFEE IF YOU BRING YOUR OWN STARBUCKS MUG! BEEN HERE AN HOUR! AFRAID TO DRIVE! EVERYONE SEEMS TO BE MOVING IN SLOW MOTION!

STUFF GOING ON IN MY HEAD!

TAX DAY! DID MINE A MONTH AGO! 'NUFF SAID!

JOB OFFERS HAPPENING! TIMING A QUESTION! WAIT! CAN'T FOCUS ON THE PROS OR CONS OF ANY OF THEM!

IDEA FOR MOBILE CHURCH! GREAT IDEA! PROBABLY WON'T WORK! BUT MIGHT! CAN'T DECIDE!

MADE ALL MY CALLS IN THE LAST 10 MINUTES, HOPE THE FOLKS KNOW WHO THIS IS! MESSAGES MAY BE DISJOINTED!

COFFEE MAY BE THE BEST INVENTION EVER! NEED MORE!

GODSPEED! SPEED! I FEEL THE NEED FOR SPEED!

DON!

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Happy Birthday!

My bride is having a birthday today. We slept in until 5:30, then got the day rolling. I was the first to wish her a happy birthday, but the calls will roll in all day, from each kid and each grandkid. Mine had to be first because the special thrill will come from the grandkids, not the old coot she finds herself married to these past 35 years.

Every once in a while in response to my "I love you" she asks, "Why?"
Well, let me count the ways.
1. She is the most unselfish person I know. She donates huge chunks of her time to others, me the kids, the grandkids, friends, and the odd character that she seems to care for. All of her tasks really are for others. She shops for others, she smocks for others, she invests her entire life into the lives of others. Just yesterday, I had a full day of computer work and job search, these usually leave me sullen and without communication. She came over and sat in my lap and said, "you need to get out of the house, go play golf, go take a walk." It is my suspicion that she wanted some time from me, but instead recognized my need to get out and clear my head.
2. She is funny. Now you might expect that a guy would rather have something other than humor, but we have spent a lot of the past 35 years laughing, at life, at each other, at our kids, at our grandkids. Her humor is not as wacky as mine, but there are times when we have laughed hard enough to shoot drink through our noses and tears run. A lot of things have changed in the past 35 years, but our willingness to laugh is still there.
3. She cannot stand dishonesty. I suspect because she grew up with a father who was emotionally distant and dishonest, she can't stand it in others. Now when this unflinching trait is directed at others all I can say is, "You go, girl." When it is directed at me..well, it can be intimidating. But I love this about her. Couple this with the heart of a lion and you have a fearsome combination. She will take on anybody in this, so be ready.
4. She is crafty..glue gun, not sneaky. This one is a mixed bag for me. I have tried to explain to her that we all don't have this chip. This past Christmas she wanted me to make a decorative Christmas tree out of wine bottle corks. I tried to explain to her that I had done my job by drinking the wine. She would have none of it, so as I seared my fingers with the glue gun, I told her that "crafting" is not a hobby for those of us who are not bent that way, that it is work. Not much encouragement to stop. I finished the tree and started another collection of wine corks for next year.

The list goes on and on. But let me just say that my world has essentially revolved around her since I saw her cruising across the Abilene Christian campus, in her turtleneck sweater, corduroy pants, blond hair down to her shoulders, nose tilted up, books clasped under her arm. I was totally and permanently taken prisoner from that day on. There is no parole, there is no need to escape.

Godspeed to my bride. Love you, always have, always will.
Don

Thursday, April 8, 2010

Head Scratchers

I see things all the time that make me wonder how they came to be. What was the twist of circumstances that created a certain sign, a certain situation? Sometimes it comes clear later what was going on. Occasionally I actually talk to someone who has knowledge of the situation and can explain it. A vast majority of the time I am left scratching my head and wondering about stuff for days. Following are three.

On a sign next to the entrance of a small cemetery off of Malloy Bridge Road in Ferris, Texas claiming "Free Dirt" and a telephone number. Okay, are the two connected? Is the free dirt coming from the cemetery? or did someone just feel like this was the ideal place to put the sign? Are families of the recently deceased really the target market for this product? "Slow down the hearse! I need to get the number for free dirt!" Wait, shouldn't the free dirt from the grave belonging to the family? or is it another revenue stream that the cemetery thought up? My guess is that you don't get a lot of repeat business in the cemetery business, so you have to maximize the sale per lot. Still scratching my head on this one.

In the paper this morning there was an article that 47% of the households in the US do not pay federal taxes. Apparently, if you make $50K or less and have a household of 4 members, then the credits and the tax breaks actually make money or the credits keep you from paying. We just passed "tax freedom day" a couple of days ago (the day where the taxes are covered for the year under the income you have generated, April 1) That means that the heavy lifting is being done by 53% of the rest of the citizens. How can this be? People making under that amount are smarter than I was when my income was at that level, I've always paid. Now that I think about it, this is actually better than how most churches run where 80% of the work is done by 20% of the people. Is it possible that the government has a better system than the church? Scary thought.

Finally, I read in the paper where the chairman of Augusta National skewered Tiger Woods about all the damage he had done to golf and the world in general by his escapades. It seems a little late in the game to be jumping on that bandwagon, but Augusta folks do things their way. Okay, we all make mistakes, but as I have said before, Tiger messed up because there is no one he admires more than himself. There is one way to get his attention. If the board for the Masters came up with a moral clause in their tourney, then applied it all the golfers, you would end up with a band of monks playing at the Masters. They will sell their firstborn to play in that tourney. "Tiger, if you mess up again, no more Masters." You would then have stories of Tiger shoving women in front of the bus to get away from them. It is a puzzlement to me that no one has thought to put this in the by-laws of the events.

Godspeed out there to the rest of the bewildered.
Don

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Wilderness Time

Have you spent a good portion of your time feeling left out? Maybe it was more of a feeling of the world sort of passing you by. Perhaps there is a frustration that your life is filled with trivia and meaningless effort. It seems there are days that turn into weeks that extend into years where everything you do seems to have little or no meaning.
This is only compounded by the fact that you are trying to remain faithful to your belief that by practicing the disciplines that those would draw you close, that God would reward your efforts. Does any of this sound familiar?

I have been through those times. I will go through those times again. I have just recently been through it. It is hard and can develop a real sense of helplessness.
I use a term in my own life to describe it. Wilderness Time. It is not separation due to sin (as in particular sin) It is not due to lack of effort, or faithful response. It is, I believe, simply a matter of the human condition. We ARE separated from the Spiritual "I AM". This is a fact of our life. In fact, the moments of feeling close are far more rare than the feeling of separation.

The problem is that this condition sparks some unhealthy reactions.
1. We try to hide it. In our dealings with other folks (in particular other believers) we put on a good face and soldier on. Honesty takes a beating at this moment. We need people who can articulate the "separateness" and not be ashamed that the struggle is at times overwhelming. When we try to hide it, it gives the deceiver great power. The only way to combat the side effects is the discipline of confession. Admitting spiritual dryness is not the sin, covering the dryness and being covert in our frustration is a huge problem.
2. We tend to really come down on ourselves. We are a results oriented society. I just worked for a guy that said, "I don't pay people for effort, I pay them for results." Now, if the results weren't up to his standards then he criticized the effort..hmm. What I mean by this is that the results for disciplines and journey are usually long term. We rarely see the results close in. So, it is at these times that we need to tap the brakes a little and realize that we often can't see the outcome at the moment.
3. We can come to the conclusion that the spiritual disciplines don't work. We tend to just heave the entire deal. Which only sends us into a life time of disillusionment.

Wilderness time is a time of settling. Every major character in the old book had a wilderness time. Abraham, Moses, David, Isaiah, Jesus, Paul..the list goes on and on. Every one of these guys outlines the feeling of despair and frustration. However, they all came back to the famous conclusion.."where else can we go?" Besides, I think wilderness time makes the intimate times more powerful.

Godspeed, if you are wandering a little, it is okay. Love and intimacy will come your way. Cinch the backpack a little tighter and keep moving, the path will lead you home,

Don

Friday, April 2, 2010

Job Search Temptation

My advice is usually pretty good, and sometimes even heeded by the people at which it is aimed. Unfortunately I have had more than my share of having to find a place to land when the company I worked for went out of business. As a result of those circumstances I have developed a few guidelines for being out of work. I mentioned the 3:15 rule, which is still a good one, and one that I have followed for the past two weeks. It works..trust me.

This is not the greatest temptation. The greatest temptation is to find an opportunity, then rest the entire weight of the search on that single opening. Here is what it looks like in my world.

There is an opportunity that is working out there that I am excited about. It involves an industry with which I am familiar, it is with people that I have worked with and am excited to do so again, it is my premium, A-1 top choice. It has not happened yet. Will it happen? I think so, I hope so, I am dreaming about it, I am already working out the logistics of it, I have a battle plan ready. Do I sit and wait? No. A firm no. A reluctant no. You see, this might not happen. Then I have wasted a couple of weeks sitting around waiting for my first choice to happen. Meanwhile other opportunities slide right on by. You see, the 3:15 works. I have four other opportunities that I like less, but are viable, realistic opportunities.

So how do I resist the temptation to sit and wait and see if my number one option happens? I pretend. Great, you are thinking, you fool yourself. Well, as men we are pretty good at it. How else will a 56-year-old guy still feel like he "has it" when his body and the stupid mirror tell him differently? I pretend that the other four are my first choice. How would I approach each one if it were my first choice? How often would I contact them? How hard would I push? Would I hold back a little to gain a negotiating edge? What would be my strategy if it were my first choice and how would I implement it? Then I handle each one according to the above questions.

Secondly, I jump on every lead. AS SOON AS I HEAR ABOUT IT. I figure by the time I hear about it, it could be old news in other circles. If it is fresh, so much the better. But waiting just assures that others will get the jump on me. I am selling the product that is uniquely mine..me. I know this product better than anyone else in the world. I want to make sure that the new lead has the best chance to see how much benefit my product will have to what they are trying to accomplish. You can't do that if the playing field is crowded. So I get on it the same hour I hear about it. My full time job right now is finding my full time job.

So what happens if one of the secondary opportunities is ready to pull the trigger before the primary one? Several things to remember. You can always say no. My preferred method is to stall and use the time to contact the primary and tell them I have to make a decision. Bluffing here doesn't work. You have to be ready to take the secondary one if the primary is not moving along. I always tell the primary that they are my first choice, but I have a time constraint; rent, food, happy spouse.

The temptation is tremendous. I have felt it over the last two weeks. It is a very seductive lure to sit and wait. Sitting and waiting is fatal in job hunting.

As a P.S. to the above. I go to Panera Bread a couple of mornings a week to work. I send emails, I call people, I continue to work my 3:15. Why not do it from home? Because the temptation gets too great to dawdle with cleaning dishes, making the bed, washing clothes, vacuuming (I hate to vacuum, but I found myself looking for the vacuum for crying out loud, where do we keep that little monster?) For the past 5 years Panera Bread and Starbucks have been my mobile office locations. When I go there I can work, and will work.

Anyway, keep us in your thoughts, pray for option one. But will go with option 2,3,4, or 5.

Godspeed.
Don