In my in-between time in the career journey I decided to straighten up and organize all our papers/bills/tax returns/business papers, etc. and clear out what I could. As I sorted and tossed, it is impossible not to read through the material looking for worth. I work better when I can see everything. So the explosion of paper all over the upstairs was quite impressive.
While working my way through this I came upon all the lesson plans and process development and communication while with the church 4 years ago. The study material and the nice notes were all going into a stack and the calendars and meeting notes were going into the trash. In the midst of all this I came across the final communiques from the leadership and their stern and unbending response to my being there. I would like to say that the anger returned slowly, built to a point, then subsided. Sadly, it mushroomed in my head and heart like all of this had happened yesterday. It seems that I have not progressed much in the past few years. The leadership treated us poorly, subjected both me and my bride to unwarranted grief, and tossed us aside like so much rubbish.
This discovery tempered the rest of my day. It left me angry, morose, and disappointed in myself. To let them have that sort of control over me made the anger even harder to deal with. I spent a few minutes last night with my closest friend and spiritual advisor and he helped me work through it, but it reminded me that the things that make me who I am also create some of the deepest concerns about myself.
I prize loyalty over all else. I give it too easily, and am deeply wounded when it is violated. The leadership team chose to be critics instead of advocates. They did not have the hearts of shepherds, but of controllers. There were/are people still at that located church that we feel close to, people who proved in the subsequent years that they cared more for us, than the job I did. We have not heard from any of the leaders, not one. You would think that they would have a concern for someone that they felt had been led there by the Spirit. They had no loyalty to me or the ministry that I had sacrificed to achieve. You see, loyalty is only expected to be a one-way street, controllers feel no compulsion to reciprocate.
The other thing that really opened the wound again was the knowledge that I was the only one who still cared about this. These leader/controllers have long since forgotten how they treated us. So in some sense they still win. The positive out of all this was the clearly exhibited nature of church leadership as we know it today. This is why I am so adamant about being excluded from the "organizational" church, it is the church that hurts people, and hurts them deeply. It has changed my entire view of what the church is and what it should be doing.
I wonder how many men and families have suffered this same fate? I know of a few, but there has to be thousands over the past few years. Men who are having to find their ministry out of the context of "organizational" church. Men who are having to redefine what it means to be a minister, a missionary. Perhaps we all have to redefine what it means in a culture that has rejected Christianity as a world-view.
The anger has subsided. The cleaning process continues today. The purposes of God continue. The wound is scabbed over a little, hopefully forever. These leader/controllers are simply not worth this amount of angst.
These anger events leave me tired.
Godspeed, never mind my grumbling/mumbling, I'll stop in a little while.
Don
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Going Purple
During this temporary break in my career, I decided to do some things that I don't normally have time to do. One of the things that I thought would be fun would be to spend some time in a vineyard and participate in some aspect of a winery besides tasting and buying. I have that part down cold.
So last Thursday after an email invite to come and help them harvest their grapes, I decided to try my hand at it. Having been raised on a farm and harvesting hay, squash, okra (least favorite) watermelon, sorghum, the list goes on and on, this seemed like it might be nice. You know, get back to the land, do something green, participate in something that is referenced all over the old book with illustrations and miracles and advice. Thursday morning very early I loaded up in my little Ranger and drove almost two hours to the winery.
I arrived at 6:45AM..first one there. It was cool and rainy, and a lovely morning. We were supposed to caravan to another vineyard and help them, but it was decided that we would stay at this winery and harvest their merlot grapes. There is no way to tell what sort of crowd they expected, but at 7:30AM their was a grand total of 4..hmm. Not a big crowd. After some donuts and coffee, a brief lesson in how to harvest the grapes with little handheld shears (without lopping off your fingers) all of which was made easy by the simple rule that we would harvest all the grapes..leave nothing on the vine. We worked in pairs, one on each side of the vine, and clipped our way down one row after another.
The vines were still leafed out, so you had to move them around to find all the bunches. Merlot grapes grow on the vine from shoulder height to about knee height. So you spend the entire time working your way from a squat to standing, bending over for the ones in the middle. You fill a flat, rectangular pan up to a certain level (at the level they indicated the pan would weight about 40 lbs when full) leave that pan when full where it is, get an empty one and start over. I started out with a lady who was handling the vines and the grapes like they were made of glass. The vineyard manager walked by, watched for a moment and told us to not be too careful with the vines or the grapes. The next step for the vines is pruning, the grapes are going to be run through a de-stemmer, then crushed. No need to handle these with kid gloves. Our pace picked up considerably after that, which was probably the manager's intent.
Knees, back, shoulders, and hands all get a pretty good workout after 3 or 4 hours of this. When I got home I realized that my hands were scuffed up in the process, little dings and nicks that I hadn't noticed when harvesting the grapes. At one point I was working across from the vineyard manager and learned more about grapes than I thought possible. She was about 30, a talker, and much more limber than I. Apparently I lucked out picking merlot grapes, cabernet grapes are smaller and grow close to the ground..who knew?
The compensation for this effort was lunch from Chicken Express, all the sparkling wine I could drink, and a bottle of my choice. When we finished I noticed we had ended up with about 12 people. I was going to mention that most of these folks only worked about half as long as I did and they get the same compensation..then I remembered Matthew 20, this may be the first time I have regretted my Masters in Religion..too much knowledge.
One thing I did notice was that I was way under-tattooed compared to my coworkers. All of them had at least one and most had a nice collection. The guy dumping the grapes into the de-stemmer had a big tattoo of a naked woman with a cowboy hat, riding an over sized revolver, waving a Texas flag, on his bicep..which was right at eye level for me. Every time I handed him another pan to dump in, I got a close up view of the tattoo, and we must have had 200 pans or more. He was with his wife/girlfriend/significant other and I kept tyring to get comparative glances from the tattoo to the real life woman. No conclusion. The real life woman didn't look like she would inspire the same dimensions as on the tattoo. Artistic liberties?
After lunch I picked out my wine (a Tempranillo, spanish varietal, a nice deep red) stretched my back one last time and headed home. Reflecting on the turn of events that allowed me to do something as old as scripture, yet new to me. Wine is expensive because it is labor intensive, almost all of it has to be done by hand by people who seem to really enjoy it. I had a good time.
Anyway, Godspeed to all out there who enjoy the vino. The next time you hoist a glass, hold it up to light and look at the color and remember that some slub like me dinged up his hands to pick the grapes, some tattooed guy hoisted them up to get the stems out, someone else pressed them, and all along a winery manager was checking and tasting and keeping an eye on it all.
Don
So last Thursday after an email invite to come and help them harvest their grapes, I decided to try my hand at it. Having been raised on a farm and harvesting hay, squash, okra (least favorite) watermelon, sorghum, the list goes on and on, this seemed like it might be nice. You know, get back to the land, do something green, participate in something that is referenced all over the old book with illustrations and miracles and advice. Thursday morning very early I loaded up in my little Ranger and drove almost two hours to the winery.
I arrived at 6:45AM..first one there. It was cool and rainy, and a lovely morning. We were supposed to caravan to another vineyard and help them, but it was decided that we would stay at this winery and harvest their merlot grapes. There is no way to tell what sort of crowd they expected, but at 7:30AM their was a grand total of 4..hmm. Not a big crowd. After some donuts and coffee, a brief lesson in how to harvest the grapes with little handheld shears (without lopping off your fingers) all of which was made easy by the simple rule that we would harvest all the grapes..leave nothing on the vine. We worked in pairs, one on each side of the vine, and clipped our way down one row after another.
The vines were still leafed out, so you had to move them around to find all the bunches. Merlot grapes grow on the vine from shoulder height to about knee height. So you spend the entire time working your way from a squat to standing, bending over for the ones in the middle. You fill a flat, rectangular pan up to a certain level (at the level they indicated the pan would weight about 40 lbs when full) leave that pan when full where it is, get an empty one and start over. I started out with a lady who was handling the vines and the grapes like they were made of glass. The vineyard manager walked by, watched for a moment and told us to not be too careful with the vines or the grapes. The next step for the vines is pruning, the grapes are going to be run through a de-stemmer, then crushed. No need to handle these with kid gloves. Our pace picked up considerably after that, which was probably the manager's intent.
Knees, back, shoulders, and hands all get a pretty good workout after 3 or 4 hours of this. When I got home I realized that my hands were scuffed up in the process, little dings and nicks that I hadn't noticed when harvesting the grapes. At one point I was working across from the vineyard manager and learned more about grapes than I thought possible. She was about 30, a talker, and much more limber than I. Apparently I lucked out picking merlot grapes, cabernet grapes are smaller and grow close to the ground..who knew?
The compensation for this effort was lunch from Chicken Express, all the sparkling wine I could drink, and a bottle of my choice. When we finished I noticed we had ended up with about 12 people. I was going to mention that most of these folks only worked about half as long as I did and they get the same compensation..then I remembered Matthew 20, this may be the first time I have regretted my Masters in Religion..too much knowledge.
One thing I did notice was that I was way under-tattooed compared to my coworkers. All of them had at least one and most had a nice collection. The guy dumping the grapes into the de-stemmer had a big tattoo of a naked woman with a cowboy hat, riding an over sized revolver, waving a Texas flag, on his bicep..which was right at eye level for me. Every time I handed him another pan to dump in, I got a close up view of the tattoo, and we must have had 200 pans or more. He was with his wife/girlfriend/significant other and I kept tyring to get comparative glances from the tattoo to the real life woman. No conclusion. The real life woman didn't look like she would inspire the same dimensions as on the tattoo. Artistic liberties?
After lunch I picked out my wine (a Tempranillo, spanish varietal, a nice deep red) stretched my back one last time and headed home. Reflecting on the turn of events that allowed me to do something as old as scripture, yet new to me. Wine is expensive because it is labor intensive, almost all of it has to be done by hand by people who seem to really enjoy it. I had a good time.
Anyway, Godspeed to all out there who enjoy the vino. The next time you hoist a glass, hold it up to light and look at the color and remember that some slub like me dinged up his hands to pick the grapes, some tattooed guy hoisted them up to get the stems out, someone else pressed them, and all along a winery manager was checking and tasting and keeping an eye on it all.
Don
Friday, September 3, 2010
Re-Orientation
If you are looking for something funny or enlightening or thought-provoking..let me suggest you go someone else's blog. I am going to take few minutes and feel sorry for myself. This is a job we all have to do for ourselves. No one will do it for us.
The past six months have been a study in anticipation followed by terrible disappointment which creates frustration which turns into anger which slowly dissolves into self-doubt.
For six months I have been trying to find the next step (I would like for it to be the last step) in my career. A constant has been the hope that I would work with people of integrity, and people I enjoy. Who knows if this will happen. We almost had deals done only to have investors disappear, money disappear, hope taking a beating. I turned down a couple of job opportunities because I knew the character of the people making the offer and knew that eventually the lack of integrity would attach to me. So I risked the short-term monetary reward on a moral decision. I have put myself and my bride's future at risk to cling to a version of my own integrity. Was it a good decision? I don't know. We have lasted six months because we believe that the merits of spiritual disciplines, particularly frugal living, have garnered us some time. But now the money is running out and very little is appearing on the horizon.
I have discovered some things:
1. I like to work. This has taught me that retirement is not something that I intend to work towards. I like the challenge; mental, physical, emotional of making things happen. It is probably part of my makeup that has driven me forward as long as I can remember.
2. That as a man, this constant rejection is hard to take. It also makes one paranoid. Every non-returned call, email not responded to, delay of decision becomes a statement about my worth. When I am working and being productive it is easy to forgive these slights because I understand the pace of play. But when I am waiting on this end, it is a comment on my worth to society. Then all this bleeds over into all other areas of life, friends and kids and wife all begin to look like they would rather not "return the call" Their lives move on, money is made, decisions are made, the world swirls on, leaving you wondering what happened. The only other one who can't move on is your bride, she is stuck in the same void. So you end up hurting the one you care most about..which does another number on your self-esteem. If I could figure out how to move her out of the line of fire I would do so in a heartbeat. But I have learned that we do not live out our lives in a vacuum, it is lived in the context of others.
3. It is an odd time for a lot of people who are having to "start over" and consider options that only 6 months ago were off the table. Now instead of being the VP of Sales, I need to consider a position that used to fall under my management. The world is reorganizing itself and some us with it. I am not too proud to do this work, it is just that it a step further back than I anticipated. I had a mentor when I was a young man named Charles Pervier. He told me he would do whatever was required as long as he could handle it physically. He said he was not too proud to dig ditches, if his 60-year-old back could hold up. This guy was pretty high up at AT&T. I have taken his words to heart.
4. You have to keep your life as normal as you can. Still go out and see friends, order water instead of wine, split the meal with your bride, let her pick and eat whatever she wants, keep working out, keep your spiritual disciplines in line, try to find ways to help people around you, stay focused on the joys of the moment. This is hard, my bride asked me yesterday if a particular time away helped me forget the frustration of the job search. In a way, yes, but in a very real sense it is never out of my mind, because it has such huge implications for us.
Well we are almost at the end of the pity party. It is time to strap on my pack and get moving again. The best description of me in most tough situations is "dumb and durable" This is simply one of those times when it is best to keep doing what I know will work, take the next step, pack and stow my pride, keep moving.
Godspeed out there. Those who are in the same situation I am should understand that it is not the best and brightest that are still working..but the luckiest.
Don
The past six months have been a study in anticipation followed by terrible disappointment which creates frustration which turns into anger which slowly dissolves into self-doubt.
For six months I have been trying to find the next step (I would like for it to be the last step) in my career. A constant has been the hope that I would work with people of integrity, and people I enjoy. Who knows if this will happen. We almost had deals done only to have investors disappear, money disappear, hope taking a beating. I turned down a couple of job opportunities because I knew the character of the people making the offer and knew that eventually the lack of integrity would attach to me. So I risked the short-term monetary reward on a moral decision. I have put myself and my bride's future at risk to cling to a version of my own integrity. Was it a good decision? I don't know. We have lasted six months because we believe that the merits of spiritual disciplines, particularly frugal living, have garnered us some time. But now the money is running out and very little is appearing on the horizon.
I have discovered some things:
1. I like to work. This has taught me that retirement is not something that I intend to work towards. I like the challenge; mental, physical, emotional of making things happen. It is probably part of my makeup that has driven me forward as long as I can remember.
2. That as a man, this constant rejection is hard to take. It also makes one paranoid. Every non-returned call, email not responded to, delay of decision becomes a statement about my worth. When I am working and being productive it is easy to forgive these slights because I understand the pace of play. But when I am waiting on this end, it is a comment on my worth to society. Then all this bleeds over into all other areas of life, friends and kids and wife all begin to look like they would rather not "return the call" Their lives move on, money is made, decisions are made, the world swirls on, leaving you wondering what happened. The only other one who can't move on is your bride, she is stuck in the same void. So you end up hurting the one you care most about..which does another number on your self-esteem. If I could figure out how to move her out of the line of fire I would do so in a heartbeat. But I have learned that we do not live out our lives in a vacuum, it is lived in the context of others.
3. It is an odd time for a lot of people who are having to "start over" and consider options that only 6 months ago were off the table. Now instead of being the VP of Sales, I need to consider a position that used to fall under my management. The world is reorganizing itself and some us with it. I am not too proud to do this work, it is just that it a step further back than I anticipated. I had a mentor when I was a young man named Charles Pervier. He told me he would do whatever was required as long as he could handle it physically. He said he was not too proud to dig ditches, if his 60-year-old back could hold up. This guy was pretty high up at AT&T. I have taken his words to heart.
4. You have to keep your life as normal as you can. Still go out and see friends, order water instead of wine, split the meal with your bride, let her pick and eat whatever she wants, keep working out, keep your spiritual disciplines in line, try to find ways to help people around you, stay focused on the joys of the moment. This is hard, my bride asked me yesterday if a particular time away helped me forget the frustration of the job search. In a way, yes, but in a very real sense it is never out of my mind, because it has such huge implications for us.
Well we are almost at the end of the pity party. It is time to strap on my pack and get moving again. The best description of me in most tough situations is "dumb and durable" This is simply one of those times when it is best to keep doing what I know will work, take the next step, pack and stow my pride, keep moving.
Godspeed out there. Those who are in the same situation I am should understand that it is not the best and brightest that are still working..but the luckiest.
Don
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
A Sort of Good Idea
Yesterday was one of those days where you wonder what is going on inside your head.
Here's want I mean. My little Ranger had the transmission rebuilt about 3 weeks ago, along with the cooling system and the timing chain. All was good for the three weeks then the "O/D OFF" signal kept coming on and the transmission would slam into each gear. Not what you really want in an old rebuilt truck. It got especially annoying while running to the store. So I decided to take the truck back in to the shop.
My bride is back in the groove at work, it was her first day, she didn't need me calling and trying to work this out. I'm a pretty resourceful guy, so what do I have at hand that I can use to get this truck to the shop and me home. Hiding in the garage is a bicycle that my bride had bought not long ago. So it seems to me that I could toss the bike in the back of the Ranger, take my Ranger to the shop, and cycle home. I see folks riding around all the time in our corner of the world. How hard could it be?
So I aired up the tires (by the way, how much psi is there in bicycle tires? Apparently 30lbs is too little) loaded the bike in the back of the truck and headed out. At the shop they were assured that it was a minor adjustment and wanted to know if I could leave the truck.
"No problem, I brought my bike and will just cycle home."
A look of amazement mixed with skepticism.
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely!" I love surprising folks.
"Well, be careful there are some nutty drivers out there."
So I hopped on the bike only to have the pedals go spinning without providing any forward traction. Hmm. This is interesting, I'm going to have to learn this whole "gear" thing while heading down the road. When I was a kid the "gears" were simply a matter of how fast and hard you could pedal. I didn't have these problems with my old stingray with the banana seat. Steering and balance are no problem, but as I look at the front tire it looks really flat...I needed more than 30lbs pressure.
Here are some observations about riding a bike on the access road to a major freeway.
The sign on the back of gravel trucks is wrong. It says "Stay Back 200 feet. Not responsible for broken windshields." Okay, the truck is responsible for broken windshields, the gravel doesn't just jump from the side of the road on its own and crack the windshield. It falls off the truck and bounces about head-high to a bicyclist, or a windshield. The sign should read, "Stay back 200 feet. We will not take responsibility for broken windshields"
Second observation: there are a lot more hills between my house and the shop than I would have guessed. And apparently my house is a lot higher elevation than the shop. Who knew?
Thirdly, yesterday was the hottest day since summer of 2008. 107 degrees. I didn't decide until after lunch to go. So in my cargo shorts, tee-shirt, and golf hat I managed to get a pretty good work out in the 3.7 miles from the shop to my house. Legs were fine..air intake a problem.
Finally, cars and trucks are mentally set up to cut as close to a cyclist as they can get without actually scratching up their vehicle. I tried not to think how far into the pasture I would be boosted if those nuts blasting off the highway onto the access road had misjudged their distance from me. But they all blew on by and missed me by at 6 inches or so.
So the truck is being fine-tuned. I survived the cycling adventure. The temperature today is only supposed to be 99 or so.
Godspeed out there. Isn't it nice to know that 40 years have not diluted my ability to make the same decisions that came so easily to me as a teenager?
Don
Here's want I mean. My little Ranger had the transmission rebuilt about 3 weeks ago, along with the cooling system and the timing chain. All was good for the three weeks then the "O/D OFF" signal kept coming on and the transmission would slam into each gear. Not what you really want in an old rebuilt truck. It got especially annoying while running to the store. So I decided to take the truck back in to the shop.
My bride is back in the groove at work, it was her first day, she didn't need me calling and trying to work this out. I'm a pretty resourceful guy, so what do I have at hand that I can use to get this truck to the shop and me home. Hiding in the garage is a bicycle that my bride had bought not long ago. So it seems to me that I could toss the bike in the back of the Ranger, take my Ranger to the shop, and cycle home. I see folks riding around all the time in our corner of the world. How hard could it be?
So I aired up the tires (by the way, how much psi is there in bicycle tires? Apparently 30lbs is too little) loaded the bike in the back of the truck and headed out. At the shop they were assured that it was a minor adjustment and wanted to know if I could leave the truck.
"No problem, I brought my bike and will just cycle home."
A look of amazement mixed with skepticism.
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely!" I love surprising folks.
"Well, be careful there are some nutty drivers out there."
So I hopped on the bike only to have the pedals go spinning without providing any forward traction. Hmm. This is interesting, I'm going to have to learn this whole "gear" thing while heading down the road. When I was a kid the "gears" were simply a matter of how fast and hard you could pedal. I didn't have these problems with my old stingray with the banana seat. Steering and balance are no problem, but as I look at the front tire it looks really flat...I needed more than 30lbs pressure.
Here are some observations about riding a bike on the access road to a major freeway.
The sign on the back of gravel trucks is wrong. It says "Stay Back 200 feet. Not responsible for broken windshields." Okay, the truck is responsible for broken windshields, the gravel doesn't just jump from the side of the road on its own and crack the windshield. It falls off the truck and bounces about head-high to a bicyclist, or a windshield. The sign should read, "Stay back 200 feet. We will not take responsibility for broken windshields"
Second observation: there are a lot more hills between my house and the shop than I would have guessed. And apparently my house is a lot higher elevation than the shop. Who knew?
Thirdly, yesterday was the hottest day since summer of 2008. 107 degrees. I didn't decide until after lunch to go. So in my cargo shorts, tee-shirt, and golf hat I managed to get a pretty good work out in the 3.7 miles from the shop to my house. Legs were fine..air intake a problem.
Finally, cars and trucks are mentally set up to cut as close to a cyclist as they can get without actually scratching up their vehicle. I tried not to think how far into the pasture I would be boosted if those nuts blasting off the highway onto the access road had misjudged their distance from me. But they all blew on by and missed me by at 6 inches or so.
So the truck is being fine-tuned. I survived the cycling adventure. The temperature today is only supposed to be 99 or so.
Godspeed out there. Isn't it nice to know that 40 years have not diluted my ability to make the same decisions that came so easily to me as a teenager?
Don
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Wedding Day
This past Saturday I "officiated" a wedding here in Texas..outside. Okay, it was supposed to be at 10AM (which became 10:20AM) and was in the cool part of the day. The evening before we ran through the rehearsal and were assured that the big pecan tree would provide shade for one and all. I looked up at this old giant of a tree and felt somewhat assured that the ceremony would at least be tolerable.
The rehearsal was almost normal, but the bride's family are all actors and singers. Let me just say that they have both a different standard and a higher tolerance for the practicing of the event. We ran through it three times and were going for a fourth time with soundtrack, but the sound tech couldn't get everything working and the 100 degree heat was taking a toll. And the BBQ was getting cold.
Day of wedding, I'm there early in my long-sleeve shirt and tie. The mother of the bride is flying around trying to get things done, my sweet wife and our friends are trying to help, doing whatever needs to be done. The father of the bride is greeting guests, running around getting whatever needs to be done. As the officiant I am sitting stoked up on pain killers because of my back and patiently waiting for 10AM.
At 9:40 I take my place on the front row..and waited..and waited..and waited. Finally the groom takes his place at the front and we watch as the mothers of the bride and groom are seated. Then the groom and I take our places and realize only in that moment that the only sunlight getting through that big, old pecan tree is a shaft of light directly on the groom and I. As the attendants took their places, all were in the shade. The bride made her entrance took her place..in the shade. The temp had now soared well over 95 and the groom and I slowly cooked. In that 30 minute ceremony I paid for all the sins of igniting fire ants on the sidewalk with a magnifying glass as a kid. The sweat ran down out of my hair, past my glasses, onto the my notes. The groom was having the same problem. I thought about telling him if he can't stand the heat..etc. Seemed like the wrong time.
They were married in fine fashion. My bride and I accepted the invitation to spend the rest of the day in our friend's swimming pool. Had some great peasant pasta that evening and crashed as soon as we got home.
So why do we place such pressure on the event of a wedding? Every time I perform a ceremony there is a little trepidation. There is simply no way to tell the couple how hard/unexpected/fun/trying/fulfilling/frightening this entire marriage deal is. They wander into it thinking theirs will be the one that will fall into the health/wealth/goodtimes side only. It isn't until later that they usually get a lot of sickness/poor/hardtimes that test their core. Part of the ceremony speech was trying to convey that love will not save their marriage..commitment will be the only thing that will save them. Most folks don't agree with me, but I am telling you love comes and goes, is good and is absent. If you do not have the mindset that you will dig your heels in and fight, then you will not make the entire journey together. I am filled with trepidation because I feel a responsibility to them. I want them make it. I want them to have some sense of what it means to live faithfully with one other person for 10 years and 20 and 30 and 40, until only the inevitable end in death can pull your hands and hearts apart.
Will they make it? I don't know, it depends on how tough they are. I have put words in their ears, I hope those words sink down to their hearts.
Godspeed, if you have traveled this road for years with another, hug them, it is rare these days.
Don
The rehearsal was almost normal, but the bride's family are all actors and singers. Let me just say that they have both a different standard and a higher tolerance for the practicing of the event. We ran through it three times and were going for a fourth time with soundtrack, but the sound tech couldn't get everything working and the 100 degree heat was taking a toll. And the BBQ was getting cold.
Day of wedding, I'm there early in my long-sleeve shirt and tie. The mother of the bride is flying around trying to get things done, my sweet wife and our friends are trying to help, doing whatever needs to be done. The father of the bride is greeting guests, running around getting whatever needs to be done. As the officiant I am sitting stoked up on pain killers because of my back and patiently waiting for 10AM.
At 9:40 I take my place on the front row..and waited..and waited..and waited. Finally the groom takes his place at the front and we watch as the mothers of the bride and groom are seated. Then the groom and I take our places and realize only in that moment that the only sunlight getting through that big, old pecan tree is a shaft of light directly on the groom and I. As the attendants took their places, all were in the shade. The bride made her entrance took her place..in the shade. The temp had now soared well over 95 and the groom and I slowly cooked. In that 30 minute ceremony I paid for all the sins of igniting fire ants on the sidewalk with a magnifying glass as a kid. The sweat ran down out of my hair, past my glasses, onto the my notes. The groom was having the same problem. I thought about telling him if he can't stand the heat..etc. Seemed like the wrong time.
They were married in fine fashion. My bride and I accepted the invitation to spend the rest of the day in our friend's swimming pool. Had some great peasant pasta that evening and crashed as soon as we got home.
So why do we place such pressure on the event of a wedding? Every time I perform a ceremony there is a little trepidation. There is simply no way to tell the couple how hard/unexpected/fun/trying/fulfilling/frightening this entire marriage deal is. They wander into it thinking theirs will be the one that will fall into the health/wealth/goodtimes side only. It isn't until later that they usually get a lot of sickness/poor/hardtimes that test their core. Part of the ceremony speech was trying to convey that love will not save their marriage..commitment will be the only thing that will save them. Most folks don't agree with me, but I am telling you love comes and goes, is good and is absent. If you do not have the mindset that you will dig your heels in and fight, then you will not make the entire journey together. I am filled with trepidation because I feel a responsibility to them. I want them make it. I want them to have some sense of what it means to live faithfully with one other person for 10 years and 20 and 30 and 40, until only the inevitable end in death can pull your hands and hearts apart.
Will they make it? I don't know, it depends on how tough they are. I have put words in their ears, I hope those words sink down to their hearts.
Godspeed, if you have traveled this road for years with another, hug them, it is rare these days.
Don
Thursday, August 5, 2010
What's The Point
My daughter left a book at our house over the past few weeks and I have picking it up, reading a few chapters, putting it down, picking it up again. I'm almost through with the book now and she would like it back. She had asked if I had read and she seemed surprised when I said no. I will say that the book articulates in general what I feel about the religious world in America today.
There are a lot good points made in the book, but one quote in particular sums up what I think strikes at the problem:
Here is the quote,
" We must realize that slight tweaks, new music, creative lighting, wearing hula shirts, shorts, and flip-flops won't make doing church more attractive. Church must not be the goal of the gospel anymore. Church should not be the focus of our efforts or the banner we hold up to explain what we are about. Church should be what ends up happening as a natural response to people wanting to follow us, be with us, and be like us as we are following the way of Christ." The Tangible Kingdom: Creating Incarnational Community by Hugh Halter and Matt Smay.
Church as we know it is losing ground. And it is not just the young adults who are walking away. My bride and I meet contemporaries all the time who have decided to take a time out from activity of church. The senior middle-aged are not tired of church, we desire spiritual community more than ever before. I would guess my group is more involved in random bible studies, prayer groups, spiritual disciplines than almost anyone, but we are finding the outlets in non-traditional settings. Why?
Because the "organizational church" has squelched the "organic church" almost to extinction. Reflecting on the pain we and others have suffered over the past decade, it is always the organization that has inflicted the pain. The organization fires the ministers, revamps the programs, silences the dissenting voices, and looks to sustain itself at the expense of community members. The organization is a terrible monster to feed, but it has outgrown the intent of the faith community. As such, it is being rejected by young and not-so-young.
We are probably pretty good examples. We "attend" church regularly, but we garner our spiritual nourishment from a variety of places. We have lost the zeal to "do church" as we used to. Instead, we meet with our smaller group as often as we can. We share life with them, travel, heartache, kid concerns, job upheaval, struggles and joys. We watch around us for those who need help and manifest our ministry through random acts of kindness. We develop friends, then as we get to know them we all share with each other our spiritual journey, without condemnation, without religious superiority, without "church" We don't find ourselves asking for prayers from the organized church, we feel they are no closer to God than we are. We do find ourselves being ministered to by the those who care for us and vice versa. Spiritual walk for us is more around us, than trying to bring people to a certain place or understanding. It is more next door, than next Sunday.
I suspect this attitude is driving the church leaders nuts. It can't be helped. What should really worry them is the defection of the Boomer crowd, not the "roaring Twenties" This deceleration is going to be faster than they suspect. I feel sorry for the organizations that hold big mortgages, the money isn't going to be there. God rewards ministry, not mortgages.
Anyway, Godspeed out there. If you want a warm and open spiritual conversation, help with a problem, or a prayer, you are welcome, we have no intent to take away your history or your money.
Don
There are a lot good points made in the book, but one quote in particular sums up what I think strikes at the problem:
Here is the quote,
" We must realize that slight tweaks, new music, creative lighting, wearing hula shirts, shorts, and flip-flops won't make doing church more attractive. Church must not be the goal of the gospel anymore. Church should not be the focus of our efforts or the banner we hold up to explain what we are about. Church should be what ends up happening as a natural response to people wanting to follow us, be with us, and be like us as we are following the way of Christ." The Tangible Kingdom: Creating Incarnational Community by Hugh Halter and Matt Smay.
Church as we know it is losing ground. And it is not just the young adults who are walking away. My bride and I meet contemporaries all the time who have decided to take a time out from activity of church. The senior middle-aged are not tired of church, we desire spiritual community more than ever before. I would guess my group is more involved in random bible studies, prayer groups, spiritual disciplines than almost anyone, but we are finding the outlets in non-traditional settings. Why?
Because the "organizational church" has squelched the "organic church" almost to extinction. Reflecting on the pain we and others have suffered over the past decade, it is always the organization that has inflicted the pain. The organization fires the ministers, revamps the programs, silences the dissenting voices, and looks to sustain itself at the expense of community members. The organization is a terrible monster to feed, but it has outgrown the intent of the faith community. As such, it is being rejected by young and not-so-young.
We are probably pretty good examples. We "attend" church regularly, but we garner our spiritual nourishment from a variety of places. We have lost the zeal to "do church" as we used to. Instead, we meet with our smaller group as often as we can. We share life with them, travel, heartache, kid concerns, job upheaval, struggles and joys. We watch around us for those who need help and manifest our ministry through random acts of kindness. We develop friends, then as we get to know them we all share with each other our spiritual journey, without condemnation, without religious superiority, without "church" We don't find ourselves asking for prayers from the organized church, we feel they are no closer to God than we are. We do find ourselves being ministered to by the those who care for us and vice versa. Spiritual walk for us is more around us, than trying to bring people to a certain place or understanding. It is more next door, than next Sunday.
I suspect this attitude is driving the church leaders nuts. It can't be helped. What should really worry them is the defection of the Boomer crowd, not the "roaring Twenties" This deceleration is going to be faster than they suspect. I feel sorry for the organizations that hold big mortgages, the money isn't going to be there. God rewards ministry, not mortgages.
Anyway, Godspeed out there. If you want a warm and open spiritual conversation, help with a problem, or a prayer, you are welcome, we have no intent to take away your history or your money.
Don
Monday, August 2, 2010
A Better Me
Just a few days ago I was reading an article and the author was reminiscing about her life and at the ripe old age of 39 she decided that she really liked her life. For a moment I stopped and reread the sentence, folded the article shut and leaned back and took inventory. Do I like my life?
First I ran through all the blessings that I thoroughly enjoy, my bride, my kids, my kids-in-laws, my grandkids. I like what I do for a living (although I would like to get back at it) I am settled spiritually, I am at peace with my world.
Secondly, I wondered if this were true of most folks? Does everyone hit this stage in life and find that, by and large, it has turned out better than we had dreamed of in our early days? I don't know. I find people who hit my age and are bitter and angry, stressed and spiteful. It seems that they can't seem to find a moment of quiet likability in their lives. So I wondered what everyone on the plane with me would say..
It occurred to me as well that we only get a chance to live our lives, not someone else's. We have a dear friend that I joke with and tell her it must be an adventure living inside her head. She comes up with the funniest stuff, and I cannot for life of me figure out how she got there. Of course they all give me a hard time about all the voices in my head, but by and large all the voices in my head all agree, or at least get along.
I think, though, there is part of us that will not let us settle. I don't know if it is the pounding we have taken over the years in church about what worthless sinners we are, or if it is a need to constantly look ahead. There was a guy that was raised in West Texas who said all he remembered from church growing up was, "Jesus loves you and you are going to hell." This tends to make us a little gun shy about feeling good about who we are. There is also the issue of always trying to peek over the next hill. I know that I have spent a great deal of my time living for the next stage and not really being "present" in this one. Finally at my age, I can stop and talk to my 7-year-old grandson and not be antsy that the adults are up to something significant. It is easy to waste time with that boy and feel that it was absolutely the best way to expend that portion of my life quotient.
Do I like my life? Yes, a quiet yes. It is better than I imagined it would be. The coming years are only bonus for what I have already received.
Godspeed out there, take a moment, enjoy the only life you were given.
Don
First I ran through all the blessings that I thoroughly enjoy, my bride, my kids, my kids-in-laws, my grandkids. I like what I do for a living (although I would like to get back at it) I am settled spiritually, I am at peace with my world.
Secondly, I wondered if this were true of most folks? Does everyone hit this stage in life and find that, by and large, it has turned out better than we had dreamed of in our early days? I don't know. I find people who hit my age and are bitter and angry, stressed and spiteful. It seems that they can't seem to find a moment of quiet likability in their lives. So I wondered what everyone on the plane with me would say..
It occurred to me as well that we only get a chance to live our lives, not someone else's. We have a dear friend that I joke with and tell her it must be an adventure living inside her head. She comes up with the funniest stuff, and I cannot for life of me figure out how she got there. Of course they all give me a hard time about all the voices in my head, but by and large all the voices in my head all agree, or at least get along.
I think, though, there is part of us that will not let us settle. I don't know if it is the pounding we have taken over the years in church about what worthless sinners we are, or if it is a need to constantly look ahead. There was a guy that was raised in West Texas who said all he remembered from church growing up was, "Jesus loves you and you are going to hell." This tends to make us a little gun shy about feeling good about who we are. There is also the issue of always trying to peek over the next hill. I know that I have spent a great deal of my time living for the next stage and not really being "present" in this one. Finally at my age, I can stop and talk to my 7-year-old grandson and not be antsy that the adults are up to something significant. It is easy to waste time with that boy and feel that it was absolutely the best way to expend that portion of my life quotient.
Do I like my life? Yes, a quiet yes. It is better than I imagined it would be. The coming years are only bonus for what I have already received.
Godspeed out there, take a moment, enjoy the only life you were given.
Don
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