SchermSpace

Family in the Internet Age

2007-04-19T21:53:00.000-04:00

I discovered that my mom has a blog. How cool is that?

Check it out!

March Madness Media

2007-04-19T21:48:00.000-04:00

Finally (I think I've said that before....)

Some have asked about Journey's March Madness media coverage.

Video from WCPO is available here
The transcript of my brief appearance is available here.

March Madness 'criticism'

2007-04-19T21:47:00.000-04:00

Several have asked me to expound on any "criticism" that we received over our March Madness campaign.

And really - when I wrote what I did I didn't have a lot of specific examples in mind. I was thinking of conversations I've had - all healthy dialogue. I'll point you all to these two posts that someone pointed me to. The posts don't reveal criticism, but some of the comments do. Again - I don't see this as particularly argumentative or inflammatory - this is good dialogue about "what does it mean to be the church?" For Journey, I think it begs questions of "what kind of church are we going to be?"

These are good questions that we hope to be asking for a long time...

So here are a couple links:

God Gas
How Should Churches Use Their Money

March Madness reflection (final one)

2007-04-18T12:10:00.000-04:00

Part III: Theology & Marketing

I think this is my last post on March Madness reflection. You might want to see post 1 and 2 for some context.

The idea for our March Madness campaign started small. What if our church raised some money and gave it away in nearly random places in our community? It was a guerilla-style plan, with little planning. There was little strategy. Our tactic could be summed up as "let's do something cool."

I'm not ashamed of that. Cool things are fun. Cool things provide some fantastic teaching moments. Cool things get people involved that would never otherwise be involved.

Now - any idea that gets just a little bit of publicity will have some criticism.

Here's a summary of some of the darts:
* is it biblical to pay for gasoline?
* weren't there people who needed our money more than rich West Chester residents?
* doesn't the fact that we were on TV make it extremely self-serving?
* aren't we just trolling for new church members?

Here's the deal. On a rainy Wednesday night we were paying forty cents for every gallon of gas. The gas station wouldn't let us change their light board signs, so we had people by the curb with quickly hand-drawn poster-board signs: "Cheap Gas!" It's the cheapest advertising ever. And the intersection was jammed. People were lined up to get gas.

And then a TV truck showed up. And then a second.

We did not ask for media attention. A local reporter happened to drive by and buy some cheap gas. She talked to one of our volunteers and then called for a video-truck saying “we have to share this.” We don’t know how the second truck got there (I’d guess that Channel 5 just monitors Channel 9’s CB and then follows them around – but that cannot be proven). Tom was brilliant. I was long-winded and got edited down to ten seconds. And humiliated by my name being butchered - but anything for the cause...

Anyway, the Wednesday night coverage brought some attention to us that we never anticipated. One local news station did a follow-up feature on our Thursday night Chipotle event - even broadcasting live to open their newscast. We had people calling the church telephone line asking how they could stakeout our upcoming giveaways. It was weird.

And it creates a dilemma. Because as I've said, our goal was pretty simple:
1) Simply tell a whole bunch of people that God loves them with some simple gifts. Like a random act of gracefulness kind of thing, and...
2) Give our volunteers an opportunity to learn some practical lessons about faith and love and neighbor and all that.

That's it. And then we're on TV trying to explain what we were raising money for (we weren't, we were giving it away).

And then we're justifying why we're not giving money to Over the Rhine, or Africa .

So let me run through a few ideas. These aren't official " Journey Church " ideas, these are just mine. Very humble ideas, these:

Asking who is the absolute, most neediest seems a dangerous question. I don't see that in the bible. I don't see Jesus being sure to call out that the woman who was bleeding had bled longer than anyone else, or that the victims of leprosy had suffered the worst, or that the hungriest listeners on the hillside got the biggest hunks of fish and bread. Jesus went around helping and talking to and healing whoever he was around.

Now - this begs us to ask who we're around and if maybe we shouldn't broaden our horizons just a bit. And yes, yes we should broaden our horizons. But the great commission challenges the disciples to work from the inside out, locally and then globally ( Jerusalem , Judea and beyond). Likewise we're starting locally.

Did we just enrich the gas station - or the petroleum companies? Well - I doubt the number of gallons that we discounted will make OPEC blink. And truthfully, people's gasoline purchases are fairly inelastic - we Midwestern Americans tend to drive the same number of miles whether gas is $1/gallon or $4/gallon. We saved some people a few dollars and maybe they filled up a couple days before necessary, but in the grand scheme that gasoline was getting bought one way or another. We didn't change the gas station's profit margins - we just provided a steady stream of customers for a few hours. Of course, we probably leeched their sales for the next day or so - so I imagine that it's a wash.

But I'm done with grad school and don't want to think about the economic impact of this very deeply.

Is it Biblical to give away gasoline?

Perhaps I'm simplistic, but I don't understand this line of questioning. Is it biblical to drive a car? Is it biblical to own a computer? Is it biblical to tell people that God loves them? Is it Biblical to give gifts? Is it biblical to try and foster a spirit of generosity and compassion? I'm not sure that I like the implication that if it isn't explicitly called out in scripture then it isn't a "biblical" idea. Just because the gospels don't mention Chevrolet doesn't make my car "unbiblical".

When it comes to media coverage things get dicey quickly. As I mentioned in my last post, some cycles are hard to deconstruct. I have no intention of having a faith that I hide in the corner. Nor do I want to participate in a church that hides in the corner of my city. Additionally, I think that those attitudes are likely attractive. Might people come check us out because of a business card that they received or from seeing us on TV? Of course. Is that the point of our efforts in March? Absolutely not.

I saw a comment somewhere saying something mean along the lines of "Vineyard did servant evangelism and got huge and now every church thinks that if they do servant evangelism they'll get huge."

Maybe. I can't speak for every other church. But you've got to be careful with these things. Churches get huge for all kinds of reasons - and some of the factors aren't causal. There are some mega-churches with great bands. We like music and want to have a great band. But I'm sure that there are many small churches with great bands. I'm sure there are big churches with relatively modest music. It's all over the map.

Journey Church growing is clearly important to us. If we believe that sharing gospel truth is important (we do) and that people desperately need Christian community (we do) then of course we hope that we provide opportunities for people to connect who aren't currently connected to a church. But that should be a natural by-product - that should be fruit - from our own manifestations of faith and love. It's real easy. If all we cared about were having 1000 people in our auditorium then we'd just pay people to come.

But church attendance (or growth, or whatever) by itself isn't the point. The point is allowing people to experience grace, allowing people to pursue holiness, allowing people to learn and experience discipleship, allowing people to internalize and own and live out their faith and their doubts. The point is pursuing genuine experiences with the power of Gospel and the person of Jesus.

And, yes, we think that sounds attractive.

We're not going to trumpet that and beg for people to come. That wasn't the point of March Madness.

But yet, we get asked all the time where we meet...

Lakota East High School . Sundays. 10:30 am

:-)

March Madness reflection (second of three)

2007-04-13T20:15:00.000-04:00

Part II: Discipleship

I'm thinking about Journey Church 's March Madness campaign. For back-story be sure to read my post from yesterday.

Yesterday I scratched the surface of the public impact. Today I want to talk about what practical discipleship means.

You see, Journey is a new church - barely over a year old. One significant impact of our March Madness campaign was that we had over 50 volunteers participate throughout the week. Remarkably many of those have never participated in a Journey event beyond Sunday morning church service. That alone is huge - just meeting people outside of a Sunday morning context helps us build relationship and community in a profound way!

Also remarkable is that most of those volunteers weren't involved in any church at all a year ago. Coming to church regularly is a big step. Coming out to give stuff away "in the name of Jesus" or "on behalf of a church" is a really big, risky step. We're asking people to put themselves out there in a dangerous way.

Frankly, the giveaway stuff is just fun. I think it's certainly meaningful - but I almost don't care about what "impact" it has. If nobody is saved by it, if nobody thinks "wow, I'm intrigued", if nobody responds at all - I'm OK with that.

Because the impact that cannot be ignored is the cultural impact that happens within our church community.

As a young church we're still trying to forge our makeup and identify. We're trying to become a community of faithful disciples that yearn and question and learn and live the redemption story. We want to be known as loving, generous, compassionate disciples.

But these traits don't happen overnight - they are learned, modeled, trained, given. As a young church we are taking baby steps and giving people the opportunity to grow in these ways.

And above all I think that internal impact is most significant. We asked people to give money - not to help our budget, or pay salaries, or buy more sound equipment - but to give away to something totally external. We asked people to give time and energy to do something totally outward focused - to look at people and interact with people that they would otherwise never see.

These are not unimportant lessons. In many ways that is the very point of March Madness - to say to our Journey people "it's not about you."

(Yes, I get that my whole post today is saying "the impact is about us." It's a circular argument - I get that. I think it's one of many paradoxes of practical faith - change inside leads to change outside which leads to change inside and the cycle continues. We don't spend a lot of time asking where cycles begin and end.

But we love encouraging people to join the cycle.)

March Madness reflection (one of three parts)

2007-04-12T22:25:00.000-04:00

I've been spending a lot of my driving time recently thinking about Journey's March Madness campaign from two weeks ago.

In case that name doesn't mean anything to you, here's the deal. In the spring we kick off a campaign where we raise money from within our church community for the express intent to give away. The programming team brainstorms different ways to give this money back to our community - some ways are trivial and frivolous, some are actually fairly significant.

This year our goal was to raise $6,600. And then every day of the week we had a giving event. We gave away keychain lanyards at the high school. We gave away Chipotle burritos. We gave away gift certificates at the local movie theater. We paid forty cents off every gallon of gas for a few hours at a local gas station.

The whole event was fun - it's fun to raise money for a special cause (like most churches we take offerings every week - but it always feels different when it's for something special). Likewise it's fun to see people volunteer to come out and give stuff away - it's rewarding to provide opportunities for people to get involved.

A lot of crazy stuff happened this year. We easily exceeded our goal for financial contributions. We ended up getting some media exposure. We had some of our events far exceed our expectations (the gas buy-down and the Chipotle giveaway). And then, after it started to wind down we've heard some criticism.

Part I: Impact

Here are some numbers. We estimate that we directly impacted 2,600 people (or households). We gave away 250 envelopes with $5 bills in them. We gave away 500 air fresheners. We gave away 300 lanyards to high-school students. We had approximately 360 customers at the gas buy-down. We gave away 820 burritos at Chipotle. We gave away 400 gift certificates at the Rave.

And what was the point of all that? Quite simply we set the bar low. Our only goal was to turn the tables a bit by giving away some cool stuff. Do we think that will change people's lives? Probably not. Do we think that makes any kind of significant impact on curing the social ills in our area? Not really. What we do think is that part of Gospel truth is that God is a loving God and that we are called to live that out in our daily lives. And giving generously is an easy application of that.

The thing is, if instead of handing something to those 2,600 people we would have polled them about what they though defined or represented Christians I doubt "generous" would have scored very high. What would we have heard? Irrelevant. Probably a common refrain. Judgmental. yep. Loving. Probably not.

Jesus instructed his disciples to go out and heal in his name. Now - don't get me wrong - nothing we did remotely approaches healing. But, in a small way, we went out and loved (peculiarly) and gave (generously) in the name of Jesus.

I am convinced that there is immeasurable power in cracking the window that maybe, just maybe, there are people out there who need to see evidence of that.

Will it work? We likely will never know. But we sowed seeds. We'll leave the concerns of the soil to the holy spirit and to the teller of parables.

Thoughts for January

2007-01-17T23:22:00.000-05:00

Like many of my Journey peeps, I've committed myself to a year-long Bible Reading plan. I'm gonna knock this thing out in a year.

In the back of my mind I thought this would also provide a good launchpad for some blogging topics. I've had all kinds of ideas rattling in my head but, uh, it's January 17. No blog post yet.

'til now.

I've also committed to going to bed tonight. So my first installment will be "thoughts" from my reading to date - in outline form:

Wickedness amongst beauty: (see Genesis 13.8-13). I'm intrigued with the narrator's description of the Jordan plain - it sounds beautiful. And yet the author notes significant foreshadowing: "it's before the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah." And in case you didn't get the hint, v.13 states that the people of Sodom were "great sinners." I saw the movie Blood Diamond a few weeks ago which brings me back to this notion: wickedness amongst beauty. That's life, isn't it? Profound beauty, but evil so close by. I wonder, even, if my own life is like that. In some ways the most beautiful aspects of my life have been the most besieged. I suspect that, like Lot, my heart settles in places - in dark corners - that are beautiful but dangerously close to nefarious things.

Crazy families: (see Genesis 19.30-38) I love the story of Abram and Lot, Abram and Sara, Isaac and Rebekah. I can't quickly articulate the inbred relationships - but if you're intrigued try keeping track of a family tree. And how much will we read in the coming books of battles with the Moabites and the Ammorites, stories of Ruth the Moabite and so on? I'm reminded again that these people, these nations, these stories - they all stem from broken relationships. Abram's weaknes is highlighted (Abram & Sara juxtaposed against Hagar and Ishmael). The separation between Abram and Lot will also echo for generations. And we're back to that "wickedness amongst beauty" idea all over again.

Common-sense Psalms Sometimes single sentences from the Psalms strike me as painfully obvious. Psalms 4.4 says "When you are disturbed, do not sin; ponder it on your beds, and be silent...." (Please note: I linked NIV but quoted NRSV.)When I am disturbed - hurt, angry, down, bitter, lonely, furious, frustrated - I am more likely to stray. When we are in those places, those dark, weakened places we should watch out and be ever vigilant. It's OK to curl-up and hide at home ("ponder it on your bed..."), but don't go make matters worse by sinning in that moment. I shouldn't pop-off at my friends or chase relationships that aren't healthy or....any of the myriad self-destructive tendencies that I (and all of us) often tend toward.

Jesus on the Cross - in the Psalms: How have I missed this? Many times I read something and realize that I once was aware but have since forgotten - but I've never noticed this. Jesus' last words before dying on the cross are recorded as Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?, or "my god, my god, why have you forsaken me? (see Matthew 27.45-47)" This I know - I've read, pondered and preached on this. But I've never noticed that these words are a direct quotation from Psalms 22. "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning? O, my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer; and by night, but find no rest." But the Psalm continues with a big transition......Yet you are holy, enthroned on the praises of Israel. In you our ancestors trusted; they trusted, and you delivered them..." Wow. Is Jesus' cry of lament really a prelude to worship? Wow...

A thought for today...

2005-11-02T22:29:00.000-05:00

That's how you know when you have thought too much--when you become a dialogue between You'll probably lose and You're sure to lose.

~Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It

Healing without Understanding

2005-10-13T09:03:00.000-04:00

Any good pastor will speak to God's redemptive qualities and God's power to heal and to reconcile.

This is good, because we all need healing, reconciliation and redemption--especially me.

But I'm wondering if in matters of the heart and spirit we could have been healed and yet still FEEL wounded? How do our spirit, mind, emotions and heart interact?

It's reported that the critically wounded often report phantom pain. A person who has lost his legs may feel an agonizing ache long after the wounds from amputation surgery have closed (and long after his legs have ever been around). While this person's loss is real his injuries have healed. And yet the mind and emotions continue to respond to a pain that--for all practical purposes--isn't real.

Even in minor cases we can favor an injury long after it is necessary. After I had broken my arm in high-school I went years before I could comfortably carry a suitcase with that hand. Though the doctors assured me the bones were strong I could always envision the fissure splitting again; and imagining even the possibility of re-injury made me cringe (still does). It was easier to just carry my bags with my left hand and not have to even worry about it.

And so today, in deep spiritual realms, I struggle with these notions of pain, injury and healing. I believe in a healer-God. I find it hard to believe that I am as wounded as I still feel. Perhaps God and time have indeed been faithful and yet I still cling to the memory of those painful injured legs? Perhaps I continue to protect myself from activities that would not in fact be threatening?

I do not know.

"Life IS pain, Buttercup. Anyone who tells you otherwise is selling something."

It's no wonder we often want to go hide.

May God continue daily to set us free, to lead us to places where we live faithfully and wholly. May I learn to look forward instead of continuing to reflect backward.

I have been healed (indeed). May I feel so...

Treasure in Heaven?

2005-05-14T13:44:00.000-04:00

These thoughts have been echoing in my head the past few days. I don't know if I even agree with the direction my questions lead. But that's always a fun place to be.

~~~

We are to store up treasures in heaven. To hoard the spiritual. To continually live our lives with one eye on present behavior and the other eye on future reward.

Is this right, and just, and appropriate?

What if there is no heaven? What if there is no future reward?

Now, don't misunderstand me, I believe there is an afterlife of paradise or emptiness. I believe there will be a new heaven and a new earth. But do I "need" it to be thus? Do I depend upon it?

If God is as holy and righteous and transcendent as both He and we claim He is, then why must we demand or expect reward? What right have we?

The promise of heaven sometimes simply disturbs me. It leads people to a "tit-for-tat", quid pro quo approach to life that is less than holy or spiritual in my opinion. We are trained as good Christians to suffer today for our crown in heaven; and we expect to hold God to this bargain down to the smallest scar and most inconsequential inconvenience.

And this promise of heaven seems to be the hinge upon which we swing all of our decisions. Many of us--perhaps all of us--are likely to live our lives differently if God were to say "there is no reward--I am the Lord your God and I have given you birth, and life, and death. There is no more reward, there is no more punishment beyond that."

I'll admit it--there is a part of me that thinks "well, then I won't be sleeping alone next Friday night..."

If God is who God is--regardless of the whole aspect of the afterlife--shouldn't we strive to live lives in the here and now that are pleasing to God? What if that--the pleasure God might experience in watching us live well (and there is an idea worth exploring...)--is the only reward at our feet? Is that good enough for us? Are we willing to honor and worship a God like that?

Would I take pleasure in someone's behavior when I know their choices are fueled only by some future benefit that I will provide? I am not usually pleased and delighted by a favor given when I know a future favor will be expected.

How often do I face some trial, some frustration, some disappointment in my life and follow up with the thought "I will endure this, but only because it will pay off eternally once I croak"? Is this what God wants of us--for us to structure our choices, our values, our very being solely based upon a cost/benefit analysis with an eternally long future value?

I may choose well in that context but I doubt that God is pleased or delighted with my mutterings.

Does God want us living our lives simply wishing to die so we can get on with the reward?

(Certainly I'm not the only one to think "Lord, just take me now..." Is God pleased by us devaluaing his gifts of life and creation and experience?)

Excerpt

2005-05-12T22:36:00.000-04:00

Time ticks by; we grow older. Before we know it, too much time has passed and we've missed the chance to have had other people hurt us. To a younger me this sounded like luck; to an older me this sounds like a quiet tragedy."

Douglas Coupland, in Life After God

Christians in college

2005-05-05T11:07:00.000-04:00

A surprisingly interesting take from Time magazine:

College is traditionally a time of transition and new freedoms, the years when young people have to figure out for the first time who they are. The task is even more complex for the growing number of devout young Christians on secular college campuses who feel called to approach this time in a way that sets them apart. They draw inspiration from Paul's letter to the Romans:"Do not be conformed to this world." But the Bible gives few details on how to navigate the collegiate world in 2005, leaving Christians to grapple with tough questions as they try to integrate their beliefs--and themselves--into college life..

more>>

Well, we met at Wal-Mart

2005-04-08T14:28:00.000-04:00

Normally I avoid Wal-Mart like the plague.

I think I still will...

Just when you thought you'd heard it all from the king of discount shopping, Wal-Mart is now pitching itself as the new dating hot spot -- with everyday low prices to boot. more >>

Open Invitation

2005-03-22T09:47:00.000-05:00

I'm making this a Holy Week tradition of mine...

I'll be attending the Stations of the Cross service and Good Friday liturgy at St. Anne Episcopal (Tylersville Road).

Anyone want to join me?

A decade ago

2005-03-02T09:04:00.000-05:00

First, see this: Yahoo - 10 years ago.

The scary thing is--that format makes me feel right at home.

Spacious Life

2005-02-27T01:19:00.000-05:00

As we continue to see life breathed into this thing called Journey I keep writing. This is part of a bigger project, but stands alone and is worth sharing:

~~~

Our days are mundane. Predictable. Often grating. It feels like we exist only to survive into the next day.

This is LIFE? Our dreams are of...what? Houses? Cars? A more stressful job?

And what role does the church play? We're all afraid that this thing called the spiritual life will only serve to destroy us--to reign us in and make us settle for being less than who we feel we truly are. One of our biggest fears about Christianity is that it will make us...boring.

There are few accusations in pop culture today worse than being boring. Or irrelevant. Or yesterday.

But stop and ask yourself: is God--the author and creator of the universe--incapable of dreaming bigger dreams than you?

We are trying to join God's adventures and mission. We long to have our dreams cast in the shadows of God's vision.

We believe that our hopes and dreams and passions are gifts from God—a glimmer of God's identity that was breathed into us in the beginning of time. Our wildest dreams and deepest passions are only hints of the heart of God. We long to capture that, to enjoy that, to own it, and to encourage one another to step into it.

We believe in an expansive God. We believe God wants us to live boldly, to dream vividly, and to journey extensively. "The smallness you feel comes from within you. Our lives aren't small."

Class Notes

2005-02-23T23:46:00.000-05:00

Alumni Magazines...gotta love 'em.

Every quarter I get mine and, like everyone else, I first turn to compare my life to the people who actually broadcast notes in the back.

Then, after sulking because I'm such a slacker (no kids, no wedding, no law degree, no life-changing missions work) I mentally write my own sarcastic update.

I've never submitted one. Yet.

Brian Schermerhorn (BA '96) reports that not a thing has changed in his life...same job,same house,same car, same single status (OK, he switched to a Mac--that's significant). He'd love to hear from old friends with likewise boring lives. You can email him at the same email address...no need to republish it here.

Think they'd publish it?

Me 'n Snoop

2005-02-17T23:22:00.000-05:00

I'm sorry, but this must be shared...

http://www.asksnoop.com/

marie....I blame you.

(still laughing...)

More memories

2005-02-17T23:15:00.000-05:00

I started writing this weeks ago, and prefaced it then with "I have no idea where this is going--I'm just diving in on a writing rampage."

As mentioned below, I've been awash in emotional thoughts lately. Peculiarly I've been remembering all kinds of long-forgotten but now vivid memories.

One of these memories is this: When I was young my maternal grandparents lived outside of Detroit. My grandfather would get tickets to Detroit Tigers baseball games and take me. Did this happen once? Many times? I do not know. It must have been at least several times. I remember the old stadium (how I wish I'd have gone back to Tiger Stadium before they demolished it), the green, green grass, the excitement of the game. But what I remember most was parking and walking over the interstate on a skywalk. The elevation, the cars rushing by below us--the whole thing made me feel strangely uncomfortable and excited. (I wonder if I was afraid? Or obviously enthralled? I have no idea what I demonstrated outwardly way back then...) Anyway, now as an adult simply walking over a highway isn't that big of a deal. For years I worked in downtown Cincinnati--parking at Riverfront Stadium and walking across I75 to my office building. The cars rush by below and I never paid them mind.

I want to go back. But so much is gone. Tiger Stadium is no more. My Grandfather is no longer with me (but his Tiger's cap sits on my kitchen counter).

Another memory that has come to mind:

The first day of class, fall semester, my Sophomore year. I was sitting in the dormer of my room watching foot traffic on the sidewalk below. I remember talking to a friend four stories below--even now I can see her pleated skirt, the shadow of sunlight filtering through huge oak trees. I still love late summer and the natural excitement that comes from the beginning of the school-year.

Also I've been drawn to places: houses I used to live in or visit, places I've visited in my past. I've driven around several old stomping grounds trying to recapture....to recapture what? I do not know.

I hope heaven is like this. I hope we're able to look in on our own pasts, on the stories of our friends and loved ones. I'd love to relive my life on Sens-O-Tape. I'd love to see this world from my parents' perspectives, from my friends eyes, even from the views of those who have hurt me most. I'd like to think in heaven we'll be able to see the beauty of this world--even in the midst of the obvious brokenness. I hope we'll be able to see the poetry that underlies all of our love and struggle and faith.

I hope we can see Tiger Stadium again.

The Battle for Memory

2005-02-17T22:55:00.000-05:00

This is it, Joel. It's gonna be gone soon.

I know.

What do we do?

Enjoy it.

(from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, a film I highly recommend.)

~~~

Cold walks through college campuses.

Warm kisses under an Australian sky.

Holding hands with a girl I hardly know.

And those conversations--you know the ones; when you're talking and shivering and can feel your next words as if you're jumping over a cliff. And then you jump, knowing that you really have no choice.

Not one of these memories of mine has accounted for anything that can be shown today. Not one. Some of my favorite recollections, some of my favorite emotions and feelings and fears (we all love our fears, in strange ways, don't we?)--what are they worth?

Not a single memory includes a person with whom I've been in any kind of recent contact. Nothing of these (and so many other) formative moments survived. Nothing save the images and feelings etched in my mind.

I wouldn't trade them...the awkward beginnings, the exciting leaps of faith, the painful separations...wouldn't trade a one. My successes and failures, my ups and downs, my moments of courage and points of weakness--these moments are me. They define me. Without them I am nothing. Empty. Tabula Raza.

Salinger, in the voice of Franny, says "I'm sick of not having the courage to be an absolute nobody."

Very few of our lives will result in epic love stories, in stories of global revolution or life-changing achievement. But we each have our own tapestry, woven by our own choices and values and character.

I am what I am.

Am I happy with that?

...shrug...

I guess.

I do love holding and cherishing my memories. There are so many scenes I feel like I could step right back into. My first-grade classroom. My grandmother's house with the sparkly ceilings. My church's bus on a long, rambling youth trip. A game of dominoes with my Grandfather. Sometimes I ache to step right back into those moments--to enjoy those people just a little bit more, to compare my notes with reality and see how I varnished the truth.

When I think of these things I wonder what memories my dad wishes he could step back into. I wonder what my Grandmother thinks of in moments like these?

I wonder what it would take for me to get the courage to ask? I bet those conversations would become a memory I'd likewise cherish down the road.

My "will" is worth something sometimes, isn't it?

2005-02-17T15:58:00.000-05:00

A friend of mine is struggling with notions of her will versus God's will. In fact, she's posted about it on her blog here >>.

I started to leave a comment off the cuff, but it grew long (surprise, surprise). These thoughts still aren't carefully considered--just quickly typed up in a single breath at the end of lunch.

~~~

I don't know if I can describe this concisely, but I'm willing to try.

"I wish I could somehow render myself completely without bias."

Why in the world would you want to do that? It sounds like you want to render yourself without personality, opinion, or passion--the very essence of who God created you to be.

I know that sounds cheekier than I mean it.

The longer I go the less convinced I am that God has a specific, discrete "will" for each and every decision made by each and every person. And yet that is what "Christianese" would have us believe--that every branch in the road has an "approved by God" option and a "well, screw that, I'm doing it my way" option.

And yet, we gladly extol how we are created in God's glorious image. We chase after the heart and spirit of God. We model ourselves after Christ. And we faithfully believe that the Holy Spirit can transform us from the inside out.

If all this is true then isn't it possible that our very personalities, proclivities and desire are part of God's will?

I would suggest that clearly when God wants something to happen--it happens. His sovereign will is absolute (see: Moses and the Red Sea, Joseph's life story or Paul and the early Christians for just a few examples). Additionally, God's moral law is also clear (mostly--I'll throw a caveat in there to cover those few grey areas subject to interpretation and culture and the like). But clearly we are called to live our lives subject to God's moral will. This is God's standard, but our responsibility.

That, then, leads us down to the daily nitty-gritty. Do I live in the US or Sudan? (We could all up and move if we really wanted, right?) Do I work for the Salvation Army or for Microsoft? (I hear Microsoft's stock is performing much better than most non-profits). What house do I live in? What car do I buy (do I even buy a car)? What sweater do I wear today?

Certainly some of those options could be immoral. But most of those choices are subject to our own personality, our own history, our own personal values.

I liked the Midwest better than California (but certainly not because of the weather or the scenery). So I now live in Ohio. But I think either would have been blessed by God and either would have been well within his "will."

The trick, I think, is to identify those places of rebellion within ourselves and diligently try to not make decisions subject to those aspects of our personality. But after that??? Roll the dice. Take some risks. Do what you want. The beauty of God's redemptive grace is that He manages to use us in spite of the apparent missed turns of our lives. God used a murderer to lead the Israelites, a son sold into slavery to protect those very same siblings and a persecutor to expand the very church he was trying to destroy.

So yes, subject yourself to God's moral law. Strive to identify and mitigate those shadows of rebellion in your soul. And then feel free to just blindly leap into whatever it is that your heart desires. Everything in my life (and the lives of so many others) indicates that God will gladly meet you there.

Love, true love

2005-02-15T10:47:00.000-05:00

"The most romantic thing we can ever do is to prove worthy of love."

So says philosopher (and owner of way-cool accent) Alain de Botton.

You can listen to his essay A Flaw in Valentine's Day: Our Narrow View of Love here >> (courtesy of NPR and All Things Considered).

Middletown, OH tax letter

2005-02-07T21:23:00.000-05:00

As promised, here are the scans of the Middletown tax instructions: original and revised, front and back (respectively). They're all big--(about 1mg each)...sorry.

Original Page 1
Original Page 2
Revised Page 1
Revised Page 2

Tax humor

2005-02-05T01:01:00.000-05:00

True story: Ohio Woman Suspended for Tax Form Humor

Funny thing is--I never read my Middletown instructions. I got the originals, received the revision, and didn't pay attention to either.

I'll try to scan them at work on Monday and post the images. The first version is classis stuff. If they publised instructions like these I'd read them.

Our Journey

2005-01-30T17:43:00.000-05:00

"It's kind of fun to attempt to do the impossible."

-Walt Disney

The Journey: A Church Community

This is the name of our church plant. I love this type of connection because the notions of faith and journey are inextricably linked in my life and my own story.

And that brings me to a link I want to share with you: www.epicreality.com. This is the companion website to a little book by John Eldridge called Epic. I often get nervous when I start recommending every book by a particular author...but I've done that with Eldridge. Somehow I think he just "gets" some things about spiritual life that others miss. In particular he paints a picture of Christian life of actually being an experience of LIFE--not just laws, rules, suppression and an utter lack of human spirit.

There is much on his website and in his little book that echoes our own story, and our own epic journey.

The Journey: A Church Community.

I'm generally a late adopter--but it's growing on me. Quickly.

A Sysadmin's nightmare

2005-01-14T22:22:00.000-05:00

While trying to check out a friend's LiveJournal I discovered every LiveJournal page displayed this:

Our data center (Internap) lost all its power, including redundant backup power, for some unknown reason. (unknown to me, at least) We're currently dealing with bringing our 100+ servers back online. Not fun. We're not happy about this. Sorry... :-/ More details later.

Wow...

Colts vs. Patriots

2005-01-14T16:30:00.000-05:00

I don't usually attempt sportswriting, but I can't let this sit any longer.

Colts vs. Patriots. In Foxboro.

You'd think the Colts shouldn't even bother to show up. All we keep hearing about is how Belichick owns Manning, how the weather will be a nemesis to the "dome team", how Indy's 28th ranked defense is like swiss cheese and how all Brady does is win.

But let me get this straight: the two primary pieces of evidence are last year's AFC championship game and this season's opener. Both Colt's losses. Both at Foxboro.

In last year's AFC championship game Manning tossed four (count 'em, four) interceptions, James had a fumble, and the Colts high-snapped a punt into the end-zone for a safety. The Patriots were on a roll, playing on a muddy field in cold, windy conditions. All these advantages--weather, conditions, and turnovers--led to: that's right...a 10-point victory.

Fast forward to Week 1 this year. The Pats are defending champs opening up on their home-turn against the Colts. What does Indy do again? Manning throws a pick, two fumbles by Edge (one on the goaline), and a late sack of Manning drives the Colts outside of chip-shot field goal range. Then, of course, Vandy misses the 48 yarder that would have sent the game into overtime. All these miscues led to: that's right...a 3-point victory.

So you mean to tell me that The Pats need three turnovers and a missed field goal to win by 3? Or that they need four picks and a safety plus a muddy snowstorm to win by 10?

Over the last two games between these two the Colts have handed the Pats every conceivable advantage and the total point differential is 13? Why not 40?

Yeah, the Patriots are terrific. Yes, Manning played awful in last year's Championship game. But really, will the Colts forever be destined to lay eggs in New England? Perhaps.

Clearly this game should be competitive from the beginning. It will likely be close. In fact, no outcome will surprise me. But viewing the Pats as a sure thing or thinking that the Colts are somehow fated to futility is asinine. Someday the Colts will play the Patriots well. When Manning plays even average football, when Edge can hold onto the ball, when Vandy makes his field goals, when Brady makes that inexplicable pass, when a Patriot DB falls down in coverage, when Dillon drops the ball...someday these Colts will win. And that day could be Sunday. That's how the vaunted Patriots could lose a playoff game on their home turf.

Come on...New England fans should know this. Given that the Red Sox won the World Series obvioulsy anything is possible--even a Colts victory in New England.

WANTED:

2005-01-11T23:29:00.000-05:00

Missionaries, church planters, small group leaders, children's workers, greeters, musicians, A/V techie types, people who love people, youth counselors, individuals with mad web skilz, photographers, news writers, newsreaders, vocalists, poets, soldiers, soccer moms...even University of Kentucky basketball fans.

Seriously. That's how big The Kingdom is.

I haven't written about it much in this space. OK, I haven't written about it at all.

"The church formerly known as New Life Community Church" is planting a church. We're declaring a "do-over". A mulligan. We're starting over; we're starting anew; we're closing down and reopening in the fall. We're experiencing metamorphosis on a grand scale.

Do the northern suburbs of Cincinnati need missionaries? We think so. Does the Kingdom crave a poetic touch? Clearly. Can you go on a missions trip while keeping your day job? We think so. I think Jesus commanded it with that pesky "love your neighbor as yourself" stuff...

And we need people. Specifically, we need you.

Now I know that of the three people actually reading this two of you are in Indiana. So maybe we don't need you specifically. But if you happen to know people in or near the Cincinnati area who might be looking for a church to plug into...send them our way. Know anyone involved with a church but looking for something more: something new, a sense of calling, a desperate need for passion, a drive for significance, upside to the nth degree? Send them my way.

And I may be crazy, but somewhere out there is someone looking for this kind of community, looking for this opportunity. Someone, somewhere, is willing to move here, make friends and dive in.

The pay sucks and the hours are awful. But the friendships are deep and it's Kingdom work and it rocks. Consider yourself invited. Pass it along.

Via Brian Airways

2004-12-14T21:59:00.000-05:00

(the prior posts made me curious what this map would look like)

This is where I flew my humble little plane during the past year:

Essentally, that's
-my trip bringing 21TM home from Georgia
-lots of trips to Muncie and Anderson, IN
-a trip to Springfield, OH
-a trip to Bedford, IN
-and my annual pilgrimage to Oshkosh, WI

Where I've been - international

2004-12-14T21:57:00.000-05:00

This isn't nearly as impressive:

create your own visited country map

My next goal, I think, is the African continent.

Where I've been - domestic

2004-12-14T21:52:00.000-05:00

You know I'm bored when I start posting crap like this:

create your own personalized map of the USA

Let's see...I think my goal for next summer is to fly to South Carolina.

Luke, be one with the force

2004-12-03T13:21:00.000-05:00

I'm always amused with how people can create nicknames from my name...but this one is new. Check out the comments on this post

Thanks, Doug!

A critique on my own teaching on prayer

2004-12-03T11:40:00.000-05:00

A couple weeks ago instead of a centralized "sermon" at New Life we separated into a couple different "breakout" sessions. I taught on the subject of prayer.

This is a topic I have hit before within the context of my community. I certainly did not say anything new. But in the few days since my words have echoed in my head and I am already rethinking some of my statements.

(This is a curse of my own personality. I am an over-analytical perfectionist. This leads me to a deep pursuit of accuracy and completeness--and that manifests itself in me being easily distracted by a myriad of disclaimers--like this one.)

Anyway, I was describing how prayer and the inner spiritual life were fundamentally solitary pursuits--a frontier shared by each individual soul and the guidance and presence of the Holy Spirit. I cannot step into someone else's heart, mind, or soul and "hold his or her hand" along the path of quieting one's self in prayer. I can teach, encourage and share my own (and others') experiences. But in those quiet moments it is you and God--no more, no less.

However upon reflection I am not so sure. I think my statements are true in the limited sense of prayer that is individual in nature. But prayer is also communal. Jesus himself taught us to pray "Our Father..." Perhaps I am off base from the outset by defining prayer as a solitary pursuit. Clearly those "prayer closet" moments are a component of prayer, but there is an equally important communal aspect. So first my definitions of prayer must include this corporate perspective.

Once I acknowledge that I wonder if we allow space within our community, within the time and identity of New Life, to foster this communal notion of prayer? Sure, when Tom or I or anyone else pray during a service we are leading others in prayer and hopefully, in essence, praying for those who simply do not know how to pray in that moment. There must be value and merit to people simply "agreeing" with us in prayer.

(The debater in me says "yes, but that very concession of heart, soul and mind is a solitary pursuit and I cannot join the individual there either." See, we cannot escape that solitary component.)

However, I am not sure that it is fair to judge the "success" or development of our prayer life simply by the efficacy of our "prayer closet" moments. Couldn't we equally see development during a gathering of "Our Father..." type of prayers?

And so I wonder if simply "leading" prayer (prayers of invocation, benediction, etc) is sufficient. Is there merit in communally reciting the Lord's Prayer? Is there a need for responsive reading structures? While my non-creedal background recoils at it, could we be formed by praying through some of our legacy Creeds ("I Believe in God the Father." I believe Lord, help my unbelief)? And now I am at the heart of evangelical worship structure and how it is lived out in our own little community. Does our structure and heritage limit us?

I do not know.

But me simply saying "I cannot hold your hand in prayer" seems like a copout. In many ways perhaps I can. Perhaps that is the very nature of spiritual leadership and discipleship.

Thoughts? Anyone?

Protection

2004-11-30T22:27:00.000-05:00

For days now, since before Thanksgiving, I've been on the cusp of a good thick sulk. I can't (or don't want to) pinpoint why--it's just a feeling. But busy-ness forces me to keep moving. And when I'm finally home, with the lights off and mellow music playing and a few hours carved out when I plan to sit on my couch and just wallow in depression...right when I'm ready to give in the phone rings, or I end up in a surprisingly random Instant Message conversation.

The question underlying all that is why do I feel this way? I ask myself this constantly as I try to talk myself out of it. My conclusion is that I'm brokenhearted. I am always asked--and I always ask myself--what am I brokenhearted over?

Hmmm.

I've been pondering this for a few days.

It seems to me that we sometimes try to make too much out of causality.

Must there be reason? Must there be a catalyst?

Do I need some event, some person, some catastrophic new development to cause me to feel this way? Does it even make sense to say that a person "broke my heart?" As if any of us ever had whole hearts. The audacity...

(Believe me...I've wailed and moaned about someone breaking my heart. I'm not immune, just reevaluating my own rhetoric and perspective.)

I'm reminded of one of my favorite passages in Isaiah:

The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
because the LORD has anointed me to preach good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion-
to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor.

They will rebuild the ancient ruins and restore the places long devastated;
they will renew the ruined cities that have been devastated for generations.
Aliens will shepherd your flocks;
foreigners will work your fields and vineyards.
And you will be called priests of the LORD, you will be named ministers of our God.
You will feed on the wealth of nations, and in their riches you will boast.

Isaiah 61.1-6 (NIV)

(to really get the rhythm, read it out loud. Seriously.)

These are the words that Jesus reads in temple after returning from his trials in the wilderness. I think we can safely conclude that we are all poor, heartbroken, captive, and imprisoned. We all feel the presence of our enemies, feel out of favor with God; we all grieve for this world that should have been (please, God, Your kingdom come).

This man Jesus comes offering to fulfill the promise: to bestow crowns instead of ashes, exchanging mourning for gladness, garments of praise in stead of despair.

And yet sometimes I feel like sulking.

This, then, is the frontier of my spiritual life. My emotions versus my faith. Both are real, both have their place. But in which do I trust? Which do I feed and encourage? In which do I truly believe?

Do I believe that God will rebuild the ancient ruins in my soul?

Do I really believe it?

Am I willing to stake my life on it? Am I willing to stake my attitude on it? My perspective?

"Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." Or, as Eugene Peterson puts it:

The fundamental fact of existence is that this trust in God, this faith, is the firm foundation under everything that makes life worth living. It's our handle on what we can't see.

(Hebrews 11.1, NIV and MSG, respectively)

Indeed. On this I hope.

Mind the gap

2004-11-07T17:59:00.000-05:00

I'm sitting in my bargain-basement, last-minute hotel in Camden (which in London still means $100+/night) reflecting on what it means to travel. First, quick travelogue: I've eaten Indian, Belgian, Chinese, French, Moroccan and Japanese food. I've visited the British Museum (artifacts from essentially every time and culture), the National Gallery (I love paintings...but of course I prefer the Impressionist period and its surrounding times). I worshiped at a baptist church this morning and at St. Paul's cathedral this afternoon.

It is the church experiences that best summarize my trip. I idly wandered into the Baptist service ten minutes late. I was welcomed and conversed afterward with boh a local and with an American woman living in London while her husband studies theology at King's college. There is something sacred and profound about the "fellowship of the saints", and it can be felt immediately.

And then St. Paul's...a church has sat on that site since 604AD. That current building was built in the late 1600s. The architecture, the art, the transcendent pipe organ, the faultless choir: I was weeping during the evensong service. "In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. World without end. Amen." Indeed.

I love traveling. I love wandering around lost until I find a familiar corner. The past couple of days have afforded me ample "alone time." I've stuck my iPod in my ears and walked and walked and walked. I have never been to a bigger city than this and I love the variety and the crush of people. If it weren't so expensive I'd be tempted to live here. As it is, I'm already planning my return trip.

For those of you at home: I miss you all and cannot wait to return.

(11:10PM local...)

So much for my city council dreams...

2004-10-29T08:40:00.000-04:00

It is inaccurate to say I hate everything. I am strongly in favor of common sense, common honesty, and common decency. This makes me forever ineligible for public office.

-H.L. Mencken, writer, editor, and critic
(1880-1956)

Random football stat

2004-10-08T11:13:00.000-04:00

I uncovered this today. I'll put it in Jeapordy format:

A: The record of the last three Super Bowl champs after one game.
Q: What was 0-1?

Now I'm glad the Colts lost to the Patriots in week 1...

Schermerhorn - 2005

2004-10-01T14:28:00.000-04:00

It's been a rather slow week at work.

This is usually bad news for me. My brain needs a certain threshold of multiple activities so it can busy itself. When work doesn't provide enough stimulation then my brain creates its own.

I scheme.

I plan my financial future (millionaire by age 40). I think up business ideas. I peruse my friends blogs. I write down goals. I read my old goals.

This week, I'm formulating my campaign strategy.

You see, one of my life's goals is to hold public office. And since it's election season it is only natural that my mind might be drawn to this pursuit.

(And I'll be old enough to run for President in the next presidential election. Someone is going to have to succeed Bush, right? You think Cheney? Come on...)

Anyway, I've been thinking about running for Middletown City Council.

Middletown's council is made up of seven members, each serving four-year terms. Three of these are at-large members voted on by the entire city and then Middletown is divided into four wards, each with (relatively) equal population. Each ward votes on its own council member. These at-larg and ward elections are staggered by two years. Last year we voted for the three at-large representatives.

That means in November 2005 the three ward representative slots are up for grabs.

I've been doing research. (If you want to follow along, check out the Butler County Board of Elections results archive).

In 2001 David Schiavone ran unapposed. There were a total of 1338 ballots cast in Ward 4, and 1093 voted for Mr. Schiavone. In the 2003 election the three at-large seats were all won with about 4100 votes.

Here is the precinct-by-precinct breakdown of the 2001 Ward 4 representative election:

0350 MIDDLETOWN CITY 3DA . . 90
0351 MIDDLETOWN CITY 3DB . . 129
0352 MIDDLETOWN CITY 3DC . . 183
0353 MIDDLETOWN CITY 3DD . . 138
0354 MIDDLETOWN CITY 3DE . ....... . 86
0355 MIDDLETOWN CITY 3DF . . 190
0356 MIDDLETOWN CITY 3DG . . 145
0357 MIDDLETOWN CITY 3DH . . 132
MIDDLETOWN WARD 4 -8- . . 1,093

Will there be multiple candidates on the ballot next fall? I don't know that yet.

But I think I can win this election for these reasons:

I've lived in this neighborhood for 7 years. That's a track-record of consistency.

I'm well-educated, with a double-major Bachelors degree and part of my Masters degree completed (Middletown statistics indicate that only 13.1% of the city population over the age of 25 has achieved higher than a high-school diploma. See the City of Middletown Profile published by the Planning Department for more information. And don't complain to me about their numbers not adding up--I've already noticed.)

My Ward has a track record of electing representatives with strange surnames that begin with SCH. Mr. Schiavone. Mr. Schermerhorn. I think it's a sign.

If you study my Ward's voting record you'll see that in our last Ward election we had a whopping 20.83% voter turnout. My precinct, 3DA, had a dismal 13.78% (106 voters of 769 registered). If I can't get 20% of my neighbors to vote for me then I don't deserve the seat.

So I'm asking for your support. If you live in Middletown Ward 4, vote Schermerhorn in 2005!

~~~

I'm almost serious about this.

The depressing thing is, I don't plan on living in Middletown forever. I've always imagined that I'd move down into West Chester or somewhere down there.

(I knew I should have moved years ago.)

If I move next year then it will take me a couple years to establish myself so I can legitimately claim to be a resident of the municipality. Then I've got to wait for the proper election cycle to roll around.

If I don't make the Middletown ballot next year then I'll likely be waiting until I'm nearly 40.

Mark your calendars: Schermerhorn 2013!

Light, darkness, shadows and hints of God

2004-09-17T23:46:00.000-04:00

Confession: I can be a bit sarcastic. Lippy. A bit of a smart-, uhhh, aleck (I've been criticized for swearing, so I'll choose words carefully).

So I'm sitting in a small, Baptist church in Memphis, Tennessee a few weeks ago listening to the sermon. The pastor seems like a bright enough fellow. He's talking about fear and how with God on our side we needn't be afraid.

Fair enough...nice sentiment all around.

But then I got distracted.

I started murmuring to my friend next to me. Within a moment my mind was elsewhere.

I don't remember anything else that was said.

But I remember my questions and the tumbling route that my mind took. It's funny--I'm a "good, Christian guy" (ok, a Christian guy...ok, certainly a guy). You would think that I could concentrate for thirty minutes with pastor-guy. As a part-time, amateur pastor-guy myself you'd think I could offer up that much respect.

You'd think.

But then you'd be wrong.

To start with pastor-guy listed a bunch of phobias and then was asking who might be afraid of these things. (Funny tangent: I was amused when someone down the row raised her hand to both claustrophobia and acrophobia. I don't know her well, but I know she's a flight attendant. Given those proclivities that's got to be a tough job.)

Anyway, the list of phobias led pastor-guy to talk about being afraid of the dark and our childhood fears of boogie-men and shadows. And he launched into how we need not fear, because with God--with the one, true Light--the shadows will go away.

I mumbled to Christa "but shadows require light."

"What?"

"See, shadows cannot exist without light. The presence of light allows the shadows to exist. Light causes shadows."

"Shhh..."

So back into my brain I dove.

Yes, God is light. The first few words of the Gospel of John, the woman searching for a lost coin, "Light of the world stepped down into darkness." I get it.

But the presence of light doesn't make the shadows go away. Have you noticed this? The biggest shadows occur on the sunniest of days. The scariest shadows dancing on the wall of your bedroom are caused by the flickering candle on your nightstand.

The only time there are truly no shadows is when it is completely dark. A truly shadow-less experience only indicates a complete absence of light.

Dark, winter nights. Caves. Darkrooms. Basements.

There are certainly days with no shadows. Gloomy days, days with diffused light and overcast skies and obscured sunlight. Days with no shadows indicate dim light (and yet the sun is still there).

The Light I know is not dim.

In fact, I'm not so sure that I think I should count on the Light to drive away the shadows. I think that's backwards. I think the very presence of shadows demonstrates that there must be a light. The bigger the shadows--the bigger the light. When the shadows are moving--the Light is moving.

Light will drive out darkness, certainly. Shadows are the quivering remnants of darkness. Shadows are evidence of light.

(Like many things with our wonderfully mysterious God it's a delicate paradox. Can you truly see light? Without shadow could you prove sunlight to me?)

It is not because the Light will repel the shadows that we do not fear (although at times the shadows will be repelled--and in the end the Light will certainly overcome them). No, we are fearless because the shadows indicate that there must be a Light.

The presence of shadows in our lives proves there is a God.

Two weeks later and I'm still thinking about Baptist-pastor-guy's sermon.

Imagine if I'd listened to it...

I've fallen in love

2004-08-09T21:55:00.000-04:00

my favorite part of oshkosh is just wandering through the planes. the homebuilts are works of art, most built in garages, basements and hangars.

and the vintage aircraft area is like a living museum.

sure, many of the plane are museum-quality pieces that i could never afford (some are truly priceless...there was a rare WWI era JN4 Jenny there that's probably worth $2M+). but most are just like old cars...valuable, but not prohibitively expensive. they're just old, classic airplanes.

so i walk around and watch and dream and think about all their individual histories.

saturday afternoon i stood 30 feet away and watched this story unfold.

in the process i fell in love.

you'll think i'm kidding (heck, i think i'm kidding). but in ways i'm not.

~~~

i was wandering among the vintage aircraft when i saw a girl and a parking volunteer pushing a piper cub into position for engine start. you can't taxi through the parking areas without a wingwalker, so the pilot (the girl) and the volunteer were ready to go.

they placed it in the middle of the aisle and the girl got ready to start the engine.

what you have to understand about this plane is that it has no electrical system. that means no electric starter. you start the engine by hand. that means hand-propping the engine. the concept is the same as popping the clutch on a standard transmission car.

(for reference see this article)

the process is to turn the engine through a few times (to ensure oil distribution, etc), then place a piston just before compression, turn on the mags, and flip the prop through.

so we have this 25 year old blonde girl by herself doing all this. she's got her duffel bag strapped in the front seat (you fly solo from the back seat), she's wearing flip-flops, and keeps brushing her chin-length hair behind her ears.

three old codgers have gathered around. you know the type...every hobby has them. airport bums. the back pew folks at a church.

they kept asking her "need help propping?"

"no, i've got it" she'd say with a smile.

their offers seemed just a tad condescending and yet endearing (but i'm a liberated guy, right...)

she gets offers of help several times, and cheerily responds the same every time "nope, i've got it." "nah, i can get it." "no, it's no problem."

so she fastens the door open on the right side (you can fly w/ the door open in these planes), adjusts the mags and the throttle, puts her butt up against the right wing strut and hand-props the plane from behind the prop (look at the little green & white plane in the article for a rough idea).

after a few attempts the engine kicks over and idles. she reaches in and adjusts the throttle. (at idle you can hold the plane in place by hand w/ no problem.)

she kicks off her flip-flops and sticks them beside the seat. "i like to fly barefoot, too" one of the codgers volunteers. she smiles. "where are you headed?"

"north dakota. headwinds of ten to fifteen...i need to get going."

so she climbs in, adjusts her belts and headset and everything else, and taxis toward the taxiway.

i watched her get in line to depart but then lost sight of her.

my kind of girl. hand props her vintage plane and looks damn cute doing it. it was a post-modern feminist anthem.

i should've said hi.

but i was having too much fun watching.

the end.

oh, yeah. i jotted down the n-number of her plane: NC38097.

it's registered to a corporation in minnesota.

i'm tempted to write a "to the pilot who flew away from oshkosh" letter to that address and just see what happens.

probably not. fantasy is always better than reality.

Thoughts from the mountainside

2004-07-21T22:36:00.000-04:00

I know you can backdate posts, but that's not really true to this moment.

I'm transcribing a journal entry from my traveling this weekend:

15 July 2004 - 10:45 pm - Canon City, CO

Today Mom, Dad and I drove a several hundred mile loop from Woodland Park to Hoosier Pass to Breckenridge to St. Mary's Glacier and then down the face of the front range in Canon City.

At Hoosier Pass we took campy photos in front of the sign and then mom and I set off to see how high we could climb. We followed a muddy, rutty road for about a mile until we came to several large fields of snow. We climbed up to the snow (maybe 200 feet above the road)--I climbed on up into the middle and made a snow angel. Then I made a snowball and threw a perfect strike--gently hitting my mom on the shoulder of her jacket, her jacket borrowed from me.

I was excited about visiting the glacier--and I wasn't disappointed.

To get there you climb a twisty and steep mountain road for ten miles or so. Then you have 3/4 of a mile up to the base of the glacier. The trail up is full of boulders and gravel--not an easy hike, but by no means terribly treacherous.

This trail dumps you into a little plateau and a lake fed by the glacier.

Mom and I scrambled up to the bottom of the glacier's snowfield. I wanted to go higher, but that meant climbing steep rocks--and eventually scaling the snowy mass itself.

Mom was happy where she was.

So I headed straight up.

I knew that the ridge in sight wasn't the top--my goal was the top. And knowing I could climb out of sight allowed me to come prepared. I'd hoped to spend a few minutes and reflect. I had my pen, my notebook, and the following poem by William Stafford in my backpack:

Ask Me

Some time when the river is ice ask me

mistakes I have made. Ask me whether

what I have done is my life. Others

have come in their slow way into

my thought, and some have tried to help

or to hurt: ask me what the difference

their strongest love or hate has made.

I will listen to what you say.

You and I can turn and look

at the silent river and wait. We know

the current is there, hidden; and there

are comings and goings from miles away

that hold the stillness exactly before us.

What the river says, that is what I say.

I think I was about halfway up--I stopped to catch my breath (the air is thin at 12,500 feet).

There had been storm clouds tumbling on the horizon--I watched the lightning dance miles away.

I turned to clamber up some more. I came to a place where the glacier met sheer cliff. I was going to have to leave the rocky path along the side and traverse the icy snow.

I paused to take some photos and it started to gently rain. Thunder quickly pealed across the ridge and lightning cracked--no longer miles away. And then it started raining: torrential, driving rain. I quickly stowed my cameras and threw on my sweatshirt. My ascent had ended.

I ran down the now treacherous mountainside in a mixture of rain and hail. I was already reading the story in my head: Ohio visitor...climbing in a storm...no raingear...fell and suffered broken bones...

My time for reverie and reflection over this poem shared with me by a friend had ended before it began.

Or had it?

Perhaps it is better this way. Perhaps instead of looking back and looking forward I can simply echo the thunder and lightning. Perhaps as I was running down the mountain I was living out the words of William Stafford: what the glacier says, that is what I say.

What have I done in my life? I have climbed a rocky glacier during a thunderstorm in solitude. Someday, I am sure, I will be able to look back and find significance in that.

Atom feed

2004-07-21T22:34:00.000-04:00

FYI--in case you're interested, tonight I turned on the Atom feed (Mike...this means you).

Who says I'm not spontaneous?

2004-07-21T22:20:00.000-04:00

Truly liberated living has never been my strong suit. I like to plan. And calculate. And shop around. I am the kind of person able to walk in and out of the store without buying anything--even if I needed something, found what I was looking for, and had the money to purchase it.

It's almost always worth thinking about a little more.

So it surprises me that I've just made plans to spend a week in London; traveling with an acquaintance that I barely know. And I don't have any vacation time left this year.

But the airfare is so cheap it's like stealing (<$200 round-trip). And we've got discount-bin lodging already arranged. It's too good to be true! I have to go--I'll regret it if I don't.

I might have to quit my job in order to free up time in my work schedule.

But that can be arranged. I can always get another job.

Yes...I'm giddy. It's an awful thing to post about when I never write anymore (I know, I know).

There is something significant just under the surface of this, though. I'm trying to decipher what it says about me.

Just last weekend I was journaling about myself: my nature, my identity, my character. I spent the weekend at a family reunion catching up with aunts, uncles, cousins, and those indescribable "twice-removed" relations that you only see at biannual reunions.

In the past few years I haven't changed a bit: same job, same house, same church, same friends, same haircut, same clothes, same car.

Sure, it's good to be consistent (particularly when you're talking about weightier things like character). But wow...It's a bit disturbing when you're on a two-year cycle of conversation and you can't answer the mundane question of "so, what's new?"

There is something substantial about me that is wire to be that way: cautious, consistent, predictable.

But lately I've not entirely been that way. Some racy, indiscriminate wrecklessness has crept out at times. Sometimes it's fun--sometimes it gets me in trouble. And sometimes (like now) it might mean taking a week off work unpaid (the horror!).

But truthfully? I rather like it. I myself don't always know what I'm going to do.

There is something oddly reassuring in that.

A recurring conversation I have with myself

2004-07-06T16:48:00.000-04:00

Me: This is all so unfair.
I: You were never told to expect life to be fair.
Me: I'm tired of testing. I'm tired of fire.
I: Fire refines. (§)
Me: But I don't deserve this.
I: Deserve?
Me: The whole process seems demeaning, disrespectful even.
I: Meaning? Respect? Why should you expect that?
Me: I've kept my promises. I've remained true.
I: Nobody keeps their promises.
Me: But I did...
I: All have fallen short. (§)
Me: Then how can I possibly presume to be worthy?
I: Perhaps that's not for you to determine.
Me: How will I know if this other person is worthy of me?
I: Perhaps that too is not for you to determine.
Me: It all seems so hard.
I: You can accept that hardship is a pathway to peace. (§)
Me: But I'm tired of the hardship.
I: The Master's yoke is easy and His burden is light. (§)
Me: I think it'd be easier to just be alone.
I: It is not good for a man to be alone. (§)
Me: But must I always start from nothing—identifying myself, defining myself, defending myself?
I: The creator creates Ex Nihilo.
Me: Right. The creator creates.
I: Yes. You are a new creation. (§)
Me: But what of my past? My choices? My history?
I: The old has gone, the new has come. (§)
Me: Sometimes change terrifies me.
I: God is a God of peace, not disorder. (§)
Me: Then why the turmoil?
I: You are continually being transformed. (§)
Me: But what will happen?
I: Let tomorrow worry about tomorrow. (§)
Me: When will it end?
I: It is already completed. (§)
Me: How can this be?
I: It is. Amen.
Me: Amen.

This is how airports die

2004-07-05T11:43:00.000-04:00

Fishers pushes to relocate airport

"Thousands of acres..." and those neighbors won't want an airport either.

Design challenged

2004-06-30T12:39:00.000-04:00

I've been proud and smug. No, I don't post much...but at least I designed my own Blogger template.

But not this one (obviously).

Someday I'll have the four hours or so to build the one in the back of my mind. And I'll incorporate all the commenting garbage. And I'll incorporate the RSS crap that Tim keeps asking for.

'til then I'm using this canned template. ugh.

It's called Minima Ochre. Which reminds me of Julia, an AU student that I met during Celebration weekend (when prospective students come to campus and pretend to be in college). She wrote me letters in an ochre marker she bought at the campus bookstore.

My I'm in a mood for reverie these days...

SquawkBox Comments are dead. Long live Blogger comments

2004-06-30T11:55:00.000-04:00

I don't have time for this...

Insomnia

2004-06-29T01:38:00.000-04:00

Hello, old friend. It's been a while.

(Hmmm, my blog is an old friend. You the reader are an old friend. Insomnia is an old friend. I enjoy inadvertent double--or triple in this case--entendre.

To bed at 11:00. Suddenly wide awake at 1:15. What to make of this?

I've been getting all kinds of grief lately for not blogging.

Here's what's on my mind:

The world needed death. It needed death as much as it needed life" (John Updike). I've been rolling ideas similar to this in my head all weekend. I saw an opera Thursday night that essentially told this story. That led me to Ecclesiastes. And then I uncover it again as I revisited some Updike stories this afternoon. I wonder how that life/death phenomenon plays itself out in small ways and simpler rhythms in life? Relationships ebb and flow. Days are good and bad. These are all little deaths, in a way.

Tom and I were talking about the New Life schedule over the coming weeks and months. I've got teaching dates planned and feel as if I have nothing to say. That possibility (and that emptiness) is on my mind.

A friend of mine has spent a couple weeks alone as his wife and child vacation in Florida. He's dealing with the emotional impact of loneliness for a few weeks. The empty house. The lack of structure. The freedom, yes, but also the quiet emptiness of having nothing to come home to. He asked me how I do it. How I live alone? How I define purpose without that significant relationship to drive my being. It's a good question. How do I do it? I'm thinking about how to answer that...

I revisited Camp Challenge over the weekend. What a cool thing memory is. I can picture the old scenes in my head. I can recall people and events and emotions and smells, even. But then to actually step into that scene again--when I actually stood there my memory seemed false, the reality brighter and bolder and muskier and shabbier than I ever would have recalled. It had been over ten years since I'd been there. A decade. And it felt like an instant. I wish I could have dialed back time and stepped back into those memories. It felt like it should have been just that easy. Oh how I would love to reexperience those times. If the reality of camp was that much brighter than my memory, how much has time dulled my memory of the emotional aspect?

Now I'm thinking about how it's become a habit to hang out at Camp Lebanon. In 2014 how will I look back on those times? (2014...that sounds crazy, doesn't it?)

What am I going to preach about on July 25? That's not really so far away...

Walking around the trails Saturday caused Jeremiah 6.16 to echo through my mind--and it still is. I linked to the NIV, but NRSV reads "...look and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way lies..." We all intuitively long for those ancient paths, don't we? We instinctively mistrust the modern and the "new and improved" world for good reason.

I'm thinking "there, I blogged." It's 2:00 time to try and sleep again.

Everything at once

2004-06-07T22:46:00.000-04:00

Whew.

Sometimes life has a way of coalescing, doesn't it?

Right now I'm taking a macroeconomics course. We have one test (a week from tonight). We have a group paper to submit and presentation to give (two weeks from tonight). I'm preaching at New Life this Sunday. And my project at work is supposed to go trough integration testing this week and be piloted next week.

Every significant deadline in my life comes due in the next two weeks.

Aside from that, I realized today that I have one weekend with nothing planned between now and August. Don't get me wrong, I've got some cool stuff planned in between (concerts, trips, airshows, visits from friends). But still--a day of laying around in the sun is sounding pretty good.

Civilians in Space

2004-06-02T23:07:00.000-04:00

June 21, 2004

Note the date and watch the news that day. Trust me.

Can you fly this thing?

2004-05-23T22:44:00.000-04:00

Well, I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night.

Hello, all. I have so many stories to tell, but no time or energy. The weekend was jam-packed.

I am the proud owner of N21TM. She's safely parked at the Butler County Airport.

I'm safely parked on my couch.

This is a weekend of firsts. It's my first flight-time in a homebuilt aircraft. My first flight-time in a low-wing aircraft. My first foray into airplane ownership. My first cross-country flying since 1998.

It was a busy, exhausting weekend.

But all's well that end's well.

I made an unexpected stop Saturday night and walked several miles from the airport to a hotel. I struggled with radio problems all day as I flew home (but I think I was able to finally troubleshoot them on my last leg). I flew through rain and learned how fun it is to have an airplane that drags old airport codgers out of the shadows to ask "What is that? It looks like you left your Bonanza in the dryer too long."

Weekend travel

2004-05-20T16:10:00.000-04:00

My dad and I are leaving bright and early in the morning for Georgia.

If all goes as planned I'll be bringing home my new toy this weekend. Yes, it's that gawky looking plane on the right (and, no, that's not me sitting in the pilot's seat).

I cannot describe how excited I am. From early childhood I've dreamt of earning my pilot's license and owning a plane. I've been a pilot now for seven years or so, but always fettered by rental agreements. It's wonderful imagining the freedom to fly places over the weekend, stay overnight and not have to worry about minimum rental times or returning before my rental reservation runs out.

Besides, the flight from Millen, GA up to my home base will be the longest flight I've ever undertaken. That's something to get excited about by itself.

Real American Heroes and Real Men of Genius

2004-05-06T20:45:00.000-04:00

I'm so glad these are archived.

(thanks Tim, for wasting 30 of my minutes today...)

Adventures in missing the point

2004-05-06T11:52:00.000-04:00

I am a lousy communicator sometimes.

I have an emotion (or bundle of emotions) that I've been trying to describe for some time. I keep failing.

It seems that as humans we are wired to search. At least I am wire to search. To seek. To quest. To desire more. To wait for "something." To long for "something."

This is built into my very nature.

"I still haven't found what I'm looking for."

Truth is--when (if) I do find something...I'll just find something else for which to search.

These are variations on a theme. A while back I tried describing myself in terms of "homesickness". I think it's the same thing.

I believe we're wired to crave a wholeness and completion that is unavailable in this world--at least unavailable in any sustainable sense. Yes, there are transcendent moments of joy--spiritual ecstasy and the like. But they don't last.

We always end up back in normal life. Fundamentally alone (even if married, etc), trying to find our way toward meaning or whatever it is we're searching for.

So my suspicious question is this: if I know I cannot be satisfied, why then do I continue seeking?

(this relates to dating, sure. And to theology. And to jobs. And to travel goals, friendships, life plans, etc.).

The funny phrase I keep telling myself is that I'm "sick and tired."

Homesick, and tired of searching.

And yet I'm built to long for heaven and wired to consume, to acquire, to build (friendships, love, experiences, etc....I'm deliberately not using "consume" with a negative connotation).

Does this make any sense?

More specifically, in terms of relationship I realize that I want nothing short of miracle.

What kind of life is it when you're waiting on a miracle?

Anniversaries, as such

2004-04-30T08:03:00.000-04:00

Particularly appropriate today:

Wedding dress for sale (but the model leaves something to be desired).

("Please only bid if you are serious. Or really, really hot." If I ever sell anything on eBay, I'm stealing this quote.)

Still in a poetic mood

2004-04-29T22:51:00.000-04:00

If you're interested, you might want to check out the poems by Fred Allen in Communique Journal.

I'm particularly fond of this:

Undone

shatter me, God,
fracture mind's stale, provincial
orders,
stagger soul's calibrated vanity,
bruise heart's numb meat,
snap bones

no,
break me like the dawn breaks
dark's vacancies:

so gently
the night is glad to die

Billy Collins

2004-04-28T23:16:00.000-04:00

Tonight, I share with you a poem:

Cliché

My life is an open book. It lies here
on a glass tabletop, its pages shamelessly exposed,
outspread like a bird with hundreds of thin paper wings.

It is a biography, needless to say,
and I am reading and writing it simultaneously
in a language troublesome and private.
Every reader must be a translator with a thick lexicon.

No one has read the whole thing but me.
Most dip into the middle for a few paragraphs,
then move on to other shelves, other libraries.
Some have time only for the illustrations.

I love to feel the daily turning of the pages,
the sentences unwinding like a string,
and when something really important happens,
I walk out to the edge of the page
and, always the student,
make an asterisk, a little star, in the margin.

...quoted from Questions About Angels

Chasing and being chased

2004-04-26T22:55:00.000-04:00

(yep, rapid fire posts. I've been writing in my head. I just never want to type it when I'm at my computer.)

The imagery of God chasing us is often used. I often use it. God chasing me, me chasing God.

I believe that it's true, God pursues us and our hearts are naturally inclined to pursue God (even if that natural inclination is latent and easily overwhelmed).

I believe this.

I just don't feel it.

I don't feel chased by God. God feels quiet to me right now. The ocean is calm. The tide is out.

I don't know that this is a bad thing.

But I used these words in prayer before my church Sunday morning. I'm saying them out of habit but in the back of my mind I'm questioning myself. Little whispers of "are you praying truth? Are you speaking out of your own life right now?"

I don't feel chased by God.

Perhaps this means that for once I'm not running. Perhaps I'm safe in close communion.

But I'm not sure that's how I feel, either?

(Does how I "feel" have much to do with anything? Perhaps not...)

This God and me....I think we're in a "live and let live" phase right now. It's wait and see.

I'll keep you posted.

Rites of Spring

2004-04-26T22:49:00.000-04:00

I love this time of year...I love the rhythms that allow me to repeat so many behaviors. Spring brings:

The seemingly annual spring Over the Rhine show at Canal Street....
Making plans for my summer travel to Wisconsin, and this year also to Colorado...
My perennial war against ants (who this year have chosen my bathroom and bedroom, avoiding their usual theater of war, the kitchen)...
Seeing the Reds within a game or two of first place (isn't April great?)...
Driving through a cool, crystal night with the sunroof open and the heater on...

Strangers and love

2004-04-26T22:41:00.000-04:00

Can you miss someone that you only barely met?

Can you love and appreciate a total stranger?

I think yes to both counts.

I've been frequenting a Starbuck's on the way home from work. It beats sitting around my house all night. I get to read, drink whatever the coffee of the day is, and watch people.

Mostly watch people.

There is an employee there who intrigues me. He's young and pierced and dreadlocked and bandanna wrapped. Let's just say that at first glance you wouldn't think that he and I would be very simpatico.

And we're probably not.

But he's so fun to watch. He actually looks at his customers. And talks to them. And there is something in his smile that is genuine.

He's a total stranger...and yet...

It's fun watching customers, too. Most bark their order and never really look around. It's as if they treat the help as just that--automated help.

But this girl who came in tonight caught my attention. She made the other barista laugh as they chatted. They too were engaged in one another, albeit only briefly.

Another total stranger, and yet I feel as if I know her in some small way. She's a frappacino drinking pediatrics nurse (the animal print nurses smock gives that away) who makes teenaged coffee-shop employees smile in the midst of their toil.

That says a lot, doesn't it?

And then there's the missing:

There are some people who I miss that I feel I have no business missing. People I met in faraway places. Individuals to whom I've only been briefly introduced. Can you miss people that you hardly know?

I think so. I think I miss the potential, the possibility. Sometimes you can just tell when that dynamic is in place--enough shared personality and interest to generate relationship, enough difference to bring you back for more.

No sooner have you identified the catalyst and it's gone. Will you cross paths again? Only God knows. Would it be the same? Again, only God...

Reading in sunshine

2004-04-21T22:36:00.000-04:00

For some reason spring and summer draw me to classic American Literature. I don't yet understand the connection. I annually succumb to it before I recognize it.

My first foray this year is more Steinbeck. How can you not love this?

The Salinas was only a part-time river. The summer sun drove it underground. It was not a fine river at all, but it was the only one we had and so we boasted about it -- how dangerous it was in a wet winter and how dry it was in a dry summer. You can boast about anything if it's all you have. Maybe the less you have the more you are required to boast.

"You can boast about anything if it's all you have." That's going on my mirror.

A few pages later the narrator is describing his Irish grandparents:

I don't know what directed his steps toward the Salinas Valley. It was an unlikely place for a man from a green country to come to, but he came about thirty years before the turn of the century and he brought with him his tiny Irish wife, a tight hard little woman humorless as a chicken. She had a dour Presbyterian mind and a code of morals that pinned down and beat the brains out of nearly everything that was pleasant to do."

Beautiful...

(quotations from East of Eden)

argh

2004-04-07T10:24:00.000-04:00

while driving to indy on saturday my car was acting weird. it wouldn't shift quite right, no acceleration, etc.

if i drive it real gently then it's fine. but if i step on it the car does nothing.

(and not being able to drive like a maniac is simply unacceptable. i actually couldn't pass someone on the freeway. how humiliating.)

i was thinking "transmission rebuild."

and then i was thinking "$2000."

and then i was thinking "hmmmm, new saab..."

so my car is in the shop. i've rented a car to drive in the interim. i was all excited about renting a car--cool, i'll rent something fun. my choices for last minute rental yesterday afternoon: monte carlo or buick lesabre.

well, i won't drive a buick on principle. so i'm stuck with the monte carlo. so much for something cool and unusual for me.

the good news / bad news problem is this: apparently my first problem isn't transmission related. it's my catalytic converter. apparently the baffling inside it is corroded and disintegrated, which blocks exhaust airflow. quite simply, my car is choking. it can't exhale. and thus it can't inhale properly. and that screws everything else up too.

so they're fixing that. parts aren't available 'til late today, done tomorrow afternoon.

only then will they be able to diagnose my transmission.

it's good news if it's just the exhaust system...i'll get off (relatively) cheap. if it's the exhaust and transmission problems...well, that new car option is looking better and better...

discipline, brian, discipline.

Don't just do something, stand there

2004-04-01T21:49:00.000-05:00

(or sit, as the case may be.)

Sometimes life just doesn't seem fair.

And I'm so glad of it.

I had a plane reserved this afternoon. I had no plans. I'd bump around the pattern, maybe fly over my house. It really didn't matter--anything to escape the surface, to escape this world for a few minutes and focus on something that is truly refreshing to me.

It was a blustery spring day today though. At least most of the day. I held out as long as I could. About 4:00 I got the weather at Hamilton. Overcast at 2400. Wind at 12 knots, gusting to 18.

No thanks. Flying is supposed to be fun. Gusting winds and a glorified tin can don't equate to fun in my mind. Not today, anyway.

It was supposed to clear, but it hadn't been trending that way yet. So I cancelled.

I was desperate for other plans. I called several friends for dinner or just distraction. Nope. It was just me and my house.

No thanks to that either.

So I left work and headed to Starbuck's for two of my favorite things. Reading and people watching.

I watched a woman leave her huge beast of a black dog out on the sidewalk, just laying the leash on the ground. He sat there for ten minutes patiently waiting for his owner to return to their walk. Unbelievable.

A girl walked in wearing a "Jesus for President" t-shirt. I laughed out loud.

A man in his fifties was sitting there reading Atlas Shrugged.

An hour or so later when I left skies were clearing and the wind was calm. Drat.

So I headed home. More reading. A little writing. A letter to a friend. A couple quick email messages. Notes in the margin of a book I'm reading (lately every book I read calls out to be given as a gift to someone).

One of the books I'm in the midst of is L'Engle's Two-Part Inventions.

She describes simply being with her husband as he fought cancer. There was nothing for her to do but offer her faithful, loving presence.

Sometimes that's all that is required, isn't it? Oftentimes for others all that is required is sitting holding hands, staving off the fear by pooling the energies of two.

Sometimes that's all that should be done for ourselves.

I ran across this quote earlier in the year: "It is an old and ironic habit of human beings to run faster when we have lost our way" (Rollo May).

Don't just do something. Stand there.

Or sit on the couch, immerse yourself in music and words and enjoy rest. It really is allowed on a random Thursday evening.

Most holy God, the source of all good desires, all right judgments, and all just works: Give to us, your servants, that peace which the world cannot give, so that our minds may be fixed on the doing of your will, and that we, being delivered from the fear of all enemies, may live in peace and quietness; through the mercies of Christ Jesus our Savior.

A Collect for Peace

Sitting on the rock bottom of faith

2004-04-01T15:55:00.000-05:00

I love truth derived from narrative...

There is no good life promised to us, nothing is guaranteed, and our lives will be undoubtedly visited by sadness, betrayal, and often evil. We cannot guard ourselves against this. The world, though, is not so hopeless. We sense something we cannot touch and the mystery of what awaits us out there keeps us moving forward. Some will claim that there is nothing out there, that there is no beyond. Nonetheless, I have sat alone in dark rooms, away from my own faculties of sensation, and still something remains, speaking in a voice that's clear and separate from my own thoughts.

more>>

Metaphor

2004-03-23T17:04:00.000-05:00

The last time I rode my bike I crashed, and boy I crashed hard. The bike was destroyed. I was badly injured. It was awful and required a long, difficult recovery.

That was three years ago.

Recently I hopped on a bicycle again.

I expected to be terrified, and I was at first. But it felt surprisingly comfortable. My friends encouraged me--told me that the risk was worth it. I certainly enjoyed the rush, enjoyed the experience, and enjoyed the victory.

I got up to speed quickly enough. I survived a few bumps. I guess it's true what they say--you never forget how to ride.

Except I crashed again. I've wrecked another bike. I'm still not sure what happened. I was seemingly coasting along one moment and then I was splayed out on the ground the next. Fortunately I'm not hurt nearly as bad this time. Some scrapes here and there. The worst is the internal injuries--bruises known only to me.

It's strange to be injured but not noticeably so. Nobody at work even knows. It's peculiar to have to tell people "be gentle with me, I'm not at full strength right now" but that's exactly what I've had to do.

The funny thing is that the pain itself hasn't been the worst result. The most troubling factor has been my paranoid fear. This crash has resurrected haunting memories of the last--and I realize how close I could have come to repeating the horrible reality of the first. I remember that pain and consider myself lucky to have walked away this time.

God's love

2004-03-23T12:06:00.000-05:00

Some thoughts from The Message

God's love is meteoric,
his loyalty astronomic,
His purpose titanic,
his verdicts oceanic.
Yet in his largeness
nothing gets lost;
Not a man, not a mouse,
slips through the cracks.

How exquisite your love, O God!
How eager we are to run under your wings,
To eat our fill at the banquet you spread
as you fill our tankards with Eden spring water.
You're a fountain of cascading light,
and you open our eyes to light.

Keep on loving your friends;
do your work in welcoming hearts.
Don't let the bullies kick me around,
the moral midgets slap me down.
Send the upstarts sprawling
flat on their faces in the mud.

Psalm 36

I like my small mortgage payment

2004-03-19T10:41:00.000-05:00

One of a myriad of reasons why I'm glad I left California:

The median price of the resale houses sold in the nine-county region in February rose about 14 percent from last year, to $476,000. The previous record, set in December, was $475,000.more>>

The future is online (only)

2004-01-29T15:19:00.000-05:00

[WOXY] will now be heard only on the Internet. more>>

That's too bad. It's one of the few presets I used on my car stereo.

A bumper-sticker that entertained me

2004-01-26T17:21:00.000-05:00

"My job is to comfort the disturbed
and disturb the comfortable."

Seen today on I275 just east of Reed-Hartman as I drove away from work.

not yet home...

2004-01-21T00:13:00.000-05:00

i fired up the laptop to capture a few notes before heading off to bed and ran across this. it's a snippet of an email that i was writing to a friend months ago. i ended up cutting this text and sending a much shorter version. but i liked the thought and figured someday i'd flesh it out.

i haven't done that yet, but the core notion still resonates with me. so here's my baby idea. somedays i feel so homesick for a place i've never been...

~~~

i realize that not everyone in the world would agree w/ this take, but here's mine.

we were created for intimate relationship. god created us, male and female, to complement one another. and so the absence of that sort of intimate, knowing relationship will certainly manifest itself in heartache and longing. it's ok to yearn and dream and hope.

i know and believe this yet i constantly have to remind myself.

that being said, there is still plenty of grass on both sides of the fence to enjoy. there is a certain kind of ache associated with being single and yet desiring marriage. and yet there is an equally strong, albeit different, ache associated with being married and counting the cost of that sacrifice--the freedom, the independence, the endless possibilities of "other" choices that could have been.

those are just two aches out of the many that we humans might experience. i myself have languished in both, among others. i'm sure there are many around me who can tell tales of aches far greater.

i'm beginning to begrudgingly admit that these aches are just part of humanity. they are inescapable. anesthetizing one will only create another. perhaps many others.

further, i wonder if our aches aren't really shades of our One True Ache, our longing and yearning for Home. we must always remember that we are not yet there--this is just a stop along the way.

oh, sure, there is joy--great, abiding joy and wonderous experiences here. and it's ok to long for some of those that we've not yet been immersed in. but even if we were to be in the presence of all the good things this world has to offer we'd still not be home.

Gadget Charity

2004-01-16T16:25:00.000-05:00

True story:

Bulgarian Coworker (BC, also...read w/ KGB accent for full effect): "Is that a Palm III you're using?"

Yours Truly (YT): Yep.

BC: What, four meg of memory?

YT: uhhh. Two.

BC: Why don't you have something newer?

YT: This meets all my needs. If it ever craps out then I guess I'll have to upgrade.

BC: I have a Palm V at home in a drawer. You can have it if you'll use it.

YT: Well, what's it worth? Maybe I'll buy it from you.

BC: No, really. It's just sitting in my drawer, unused for more than a year. You can have it.

So I've upgraded! Rechargable battery! Higher resolution screen! Eight whole megabytes of memory! Oh, these are heady things indeed.

The allure of real life

2004-01-12T15:57:00.000-05:00

It keeps me from sitting on my couch writing drivel whilst watching television.

This allure is a good thing. As are face to face relationships, conversations that linger well into the morning, and travels that take me across state-borders and national boundaries. (And in some of those travels this weekend I saw a sign in Knightstown, IN for the "National Museum of Cookie Cutters". I'm resisting the urge to write them a letter asking them if they've considered franchising.)

No blogging, but no excuses. This is my hobby, after all, not yours.

But I will share for you a quick link. I don't consider myself poetic by nature, but I go through phases where I'm drawn to the form. It seems I'm in one of those phases now. I think you, like me, will enjoy these 4 Poems by MEH.

Coming out of the cold

2003-12-26T19:52:00.000-05:00

It's brutal out there. I show up at a church in Indy and a friend chides me for not posting enough recently. And my good friends, people who I see regularly or who spend a weekend at my house? They can be brutal.

Yes. I've been quiet. I just don't have many good, public thoughts lately. Hopefully it will change. It may not. Either way, don't panic.

I left work today at lunchtime to track down a sandwich. I started at the deli upstairs: closed. So I grabbed my coat and ventured out. Innocuous Christmas music was being piped into the skywalk area, the itinerant sax player was wailing on Christmas tunes, and Jersey Mike's was playing a Christmas mix.

I stepped out the door to a panhandler holding a bucket and wishing everybody "Happy Kwanzaa" with as much enthusiasm as you can imagine. As I walked back across Fountain Square Rock Bottom was blaring AC/DCs "You Shook Me All Night Long."

I don't know why, but the whole miniature lunchtime journey had me laughing out loud by the time I returned to my desk. This world, this crazy world is so fun just to watch.

Winter at the beach

2003-12-16T11:40:00.000-05:00

Goodness, why did I leave California?

I'm sitting here at the Outer Banks, enjoying the sound of the surf and the cold wind blowing off the sea. Is the ocean more profound for those who grow up near it, or for Midwestern boys like me to whom it will always be a bit of an inconceivable mystery? No fires allowed the beach, which is too bad because huddling around some flames out there at night would be terrific. But we've got surf, and seashells, and fresh seafood dives all up and down the beach. It's perfect.

I'm travelling with my family--all of my immediate plus two other hotel suites of uncles, aunts and cousins. Sometimes I'm sure I'm adopted. But then I get alone w/ a cousin and we compare notes on some of the loonier elements of our family history and I realize I'm not the only one who looks around and says "how did I come out of this?"

I've become buds over the past couple of years with my second cousin...He's 11 now, and asked me the other day if I was his friend.

I said with a smile "No, sorry pal, but I pick my friends." It's all nice, sarcastic, pre-teen humor. But the notion has been echoing in my head.

Family. My family. So-and-so begat so-and-so. And then so-and-so begat so-and-so. Somewhere I fall in there and, hopefully, some will follow down the line. Just like the beginnings of the Christmas story, really. I get grafted into all of the peculiaririties and idiosynchracies and somehow am formed...My mind continues to boggle.

I'm speechless

2003-12-12T08:39:00.000-05:00

(which explains my lack of posting, I suppose...)

I think you will enjoy this review of a relatively new restaurant in the Cincinnati area: The Gospel Grille

I think my friend Tim and I are planning on heading up there next weekend and getting saved. Anyone wanna join us?

Banausic

2003-11-18T09:08:00.000-05:00

Yep, banausic. Scroll down to the 18 November entry.

banausic (buh-NAW-sik, -zik) adjective

Mechanical, utilitarian or routine, as opposed to inspiring or imaginative.

[From Greek banausikos, from banausos (mechanic).]

"It will leave Beagle 2 to its banausic task of probing and burrowing into the surface of the Red Planet in its futile search for microbes and soda water." Peter Simple; Rogue Elements; The Daily Telegraph (London, UK); Jun 6, 2003.

"Timothy McVeigh did quite a number on the Oklahoma City federal building, even though his banausic use of explosives probably disgusted a professional like Loizeaux." Bruce Schneier; Secrets and Lies : Digital Security in a Networked World; John Wiley & Sons, 2000.

What a great word. I love English.

Just checking in...

2003-11-13T10:53:00.000-05:00

I've been a book-hound lately. I plowed through The Da Vinci Code. Then last weekend read Anne Lamott's Traveling Mercies. I've highlighted thought after thought of Lamott's that I'll post on here whenever time, my book and my laptop coelesce. Anyway, then last night I started Microserfs, by Douglas Coupland.

That book had me laughing out loud on page three. The narrator identifies everybody by their seven ideal Jeapordy! categories. I was trying to think what mine, would be...but I don't know enough about anything to have an opinion. I peter out after three:

Billy Joel
General Aviation
Indiana University basketball

Jack of all trades, master of none....even in trivia I guess.

Life is funny right now. I'm busy and distracted with school and currently unassigned at work. I got out of class quite early last night--home by 8:30. I wandered around my house confused for a while. I didn't know what to do. I turned on the TV. Then turned it off. I started reading, but that was too quiet. I tried learning the second half of the Bach invention I'm working on. There. That was the right activity. So I pounded that for an hour or so. Then off to bed where I didn't sleep.

My sleep patterns are all out of whack this week. Tuesday I got home about 6:30. I had this headache clasping at the base of my neck and reaching around to my eyes (I anthropomorphize my headaches...it's weird, I know). Part of it was that I hadn't eaten all day, but that's another story. So I ate dinner and went to bed, and slept hard. For two hours. Then I was up at 9:00, which was good because I had homework to do. I worked a couple of hours, read recreationally for 30 minutes or so, then to bed.

You'd think, sleeping from 11:30 or so to 7:30, plus a two hour nap, that I'd awake refreshed. Nope. I was exhausted Wednesday. I climbed into bed last night thinking I'd drop right off...but no, I tossed and turned 'til God-knows-when (at least I left the light off and didn't look at the clock).

I feel like I missed a month somewhere. Or something like that. I just feel out of sorts, like I'm ahead of schedule. Or behind schedule. I don't know which it is, but I'm just off somehow. Maybe the weekend will help--sleeping in on Saturday, just having a day or two to mentally check out a bit. I know that I'm not yet mentally or emotionally or spiritually ready for the rush of holidays, for biting, sleety weather, for the darkness that surrounds the days in wintertime (driving to work in the dark, driving home in the dark...only seeing vestiges of sunlight through office windows).

You know, maybe thatis my problem. I've been out of whack since the time change a couple weeks ago. But jet-lag shouldn't last this long.

Soul and spirit

2003-11-10T10:14:00.000-05:00

"For the word of God is living, and active, and sharper than any two-edged sword, and piercing even to the dividing of soul and spirit..." - Hebrews 4:12a (ASV)

I don't think I've ever thought of this, but what is the distinction between soul (psuche) and spirit (pneuma)? How can they be divided? I mentioned this to a friend this weekend and we ended up with books strewn everywhere--bibles (different translations), a big concordance, a greek dictionary, a greek new testament (ack, i used to be functional there...).

The Word (logos) pierces me to the point of dividing my soul from my spirit. What does this mean?

Kenwood Mall, Observed

2003-11-08T10:20:00.000-05:00

Yesterday afternoon I had about an hour to kill before meeting a friend. So I camped out in the common area of the mall down the street from my office. Armed with a cup of coffee and a book I was well prepared to entertain myself in isolation. But eventually people-watching took over. A few of the things I jotted down:

...high school girls in short, flouncy uniform skirts--certainly rolled up significantly at the waist. How can they simulteneously appear so breezy and self-conscious at the same time?

...my grandmother, almost. In appearance and demeaner she was hauntingly close. I almost want to speak out and talk to her. I don't talk much to my own grandmother, perhaps I can make up for it with this woman shuffling down the hall.

...a couple walking hand in hand with their blonde preschooler running between. With two long pigtails and a barbie-pink sweater, she's saying "Dad! Dad! Dad! Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad..." begging to be heard, to be seen. If she had the words she'd say "pay attention to me." She's not so far-removed from the pack of high-school girls that passed by twenty minutes ago.

I am not alone. And yet I am. I am anonymous in the open puclic, surrounded by people yet still alone. I love this tension...

Incongruent trivia

2003-11-07T11:36:00.000-05:00

I heard on the radio that Joni Mitchell turns 60 today and Billy Graham turn 85.

Don't know why, but I chuckled out loud at that. Then I hit snooze.

More good news...

2003-11-05T14:08:00.000-05:00

I was a Senior Consultant, I.

But now I'm a Senior Consultant, II.

Please, please....try to calm your excitement.

Did I get a raise? Please.

New business cards? No.

Am I suddenly treated with more respect? Nope.

But hey, I'll take what I get.

Three good years at Cardinal. That's quite an accomplishment for me. It's the longest stint I've had at a full-time job.

Good news...

2003-11-01T00:11:00.000-05:00

It's midnight and I should be going straight to bed, but I've got to share this letter I received today:

From the Director of the Miami University MBA program:

We have recommended to the Graduate School that you be approved for entry into the MBA Program, beginning spring 2004...

Wanderlust

2003-10-30T16:52:00.000-05:00

I took the GMAT back in August. Frankly, my results disappointed me. I did OK on the verbal section, but my math skills have declined since college.

But I guess I did well enough. Nearly every day my mailbox is filled with a thick envelope inviting me to come study at a college far, far away. Chicago. Pennsylvania. Michigan. Yesterday it was Boston College. I've never been to Boston, but it seems nice.

And then the reverie begins...I could sell my house, quit my job, jaunt off east for school for a couple years. I could envelop myself in more school debt than I ever accumulated as an undergrad. Maybe I could pick up that bartending job that's always slightly intrigued me.

I've learned how to respond to these things, though.

You toss the envelope in the garbage without even opening it.

And under no circumstances do you think about the millions of trees that get killed so that schools can send this stuff out...

I predict...

2003-10-29T17:17:00.000-05:00

"I confess that in 1901 I said to my brother Orville that man would not fly for 50 years. Ever since I have distrusted myself and avoided all predictions.” Wilbur Wright, 1908

Being a passenger is fun

2003-10-29T17:10:00.000-05:00

Recently I've been flying fairly regularly. But today I was taken flying. A coworker of mine is in a partnership with a Beech Musketeer. They've recently sold their Musketeer into a flying club that has a Cessna 206 (and something else). So when he asked me if I wanted to go flying in the 206 during lunch I was all over it.

It was a quick flight out of Blue Ash, up over Kings Island, back to land on 24 (is that right? I don't fly into Blue Ash much...). Compared to the Cessna 152 that I'm current in, that 206 is huge. Six seats (instead of two), 280 hp (instead of 115hp). It climbed like crazy--unbelievably quick. We were at pattern altitude before turning crosswind. And then it was fun just looking around, trying to find houses, keep my bearings. It was nice to keep my feel off the pedals and just enjoy the whole scenario.

Pride goeth before the fall

2003-10-29T11:10:00.000-05:00

I was listening to The Dogs on the way in to work, and singing along (per usual) to Diamonds and Coal.

In ways I feel like that's my life story recently....diamonds to coal. And the through miraculous grace that coal gets redeemed, gets put to new and better use. I look at my life in whole and in part and think "it's good." It's been hard, but it's good. Things really do work together.

But then I worry. What can I say, I'm a worrier. Is this newfound renewal just another chain that needs broken? God, I hope not. But, if so, go ahead and do it Lord...

Today feels like a new day. I woke up at 5:30 this morning. And it's not like I went to bed real early last night. I am not a morning person. I tried to will myself to sleep longer. But finally I gave in, turned a light on and cracked my Bible, reading from Sarah's death to just before Jacob's dream. I sat for an hour or so in the presence of Word, in prayer (I suppose, it was ethereal and lacked words). I stumbled to my piano. Can you commune with God over Bach Inventions? I think so.

It was a surreal morning--so unlike me.

I never know how much to write here, but....(cue dramatic organ crescendo)

I had a date last night. And this time, I swore I was keeping my mouth shut. I'd practiced all my stories, converted everything to first person ("I moved to California, I bought a house, I went to Holland"), I was determined to hide this elephant of my past. It's just too big and cumbersome and people always define me by my history. I suppose that's fair enough, but a lot of things have happened to me that I don't think really define me.

But she's sharp, this one....she didn't know it but she trapped me. Before I knew it I was introducing characters and plotlines that I'd hoped to keep buried for chapters.

All's well that ends well, I suppose. She said she'd not been surprised by a story like that in a long time. Well, if you want surprising stories then I'm your man. And she only got the Cliff's Notes version--she has no idea :-)

A story of fall and redemption indeed.

"Is there still redemption for anyone?

Jesus come,
Turn the world around.
Lay my burden down,
Turn this world around.
Bring the whole thing down."

Changes Come, Over the Rhine,

You Know You're From Indiana When:

2003-10-24T15:42:00.000-04:00

My dad sent me this....things like this are usually so corny they're not worth the time reading. But this time, I'm not only sharing...I'm annotating!

You think the state Bird is Larry.
Well sure. Tall, skinny, pasty white boy rules NBA. Everybody needs heroes. Especially pasty, skinny kids.

You can say "French Lick" without laughing out loud.
Well, not now...

There's actually a college near you named "Ball State."
Near you...try in my backyard. We could hear the band during football games.

You know Batesville is the casket-making capital of the world and you're proud of it.
Heck, I've worked there.

You could never figure out spring forward-fall back, so screw Daylight Savings Time!
Yeah, but I'm converted now. DST allows you to leave work in the middle of summer and have enough daylight for a full round of golf.

Your feelings get hurt whenever someone points out the acronym for Purdue University is PU.
Nah, Purdue sucks. See below.

You know several people who have hit a deer.
Yeah, but that happens all over.

Down south to you means Kentucky.
And to be avoided at all costs.

You have no problem spelling or pronouncing Terre Haute.
Home of Indiana State University. See Bird, Larry...

Your school classes were canceled because of cold.
Yes.

Your school classes were canceled because of heat.
Again, yes...

You know what the phrase "knee-high by the Fourth of July" means.
Doesn't everybody measure time by corn growth?

You've heard of Euchre, you know how to play Euchre, and you are a master of Euchre.
Clearly.

You've seen a running car, with nobody in it, in the parking lot of the grocery store, no matter what time of year it is.
But less and less so as time goes by.

Detassling was your first job. Bailing hay, your second. Or you could stack hay, swim in the pond to clean off and then have the strength to play a couple of games of hoops, all in the same barn lot on the same day.
Come on...we're not all hicks in Indiana. I, for one, never detassled or baled. I had a paper route. And worked in a library.

You say things like catty-wampus and kitty corner and know what they mean.
Yeah, but I like bigger words that people can't spell.

You install security lights on your house and garage, then leave them both unlocked.
I didn't install them--I bought it that way.

You carry jumper cables in your car regularly.
Be prepared.

You drink pop.
I call it "soda" because this usage bugs the daylights out of me.

You catch frogs at the crick.
I'm on a one-man campaign to eradicate the word "crick", too.

If you want someone to hear you, you holler at 'em.
Don't you?

You know that baling wire was the predecessor to duct tape.
Yeah, the adhesive on duct tape creates a mess when you wrap exhaust pipes with it. Baling wire is better.

You know that strangers are the only ones who come to your front door.
This was my grandparents' house, through and through.

Kids and dogs ride in the passenger seats of cars and the backs of pickups.
Been there, done that. Now I'm older and seeing it terrifies me.

You think nothing of driving on the roads and being stuck behind a farm implement in spring and fall. You just hope it's not a hog truck or a manure spreader.
I can't wait for dotted lines so my 200 horses can pass that sucker in a blink.

High school basketball games draw bigger crowds on the weekend than movie theaters, IF you have a movie theater.
Sure, it's a higher quality entertainment product.

Driving is better in the winter because the potholes are filled with snow.
And it's hard to do donuts in the summer.

The local paper covers national and international headlines on one page but requires six for local sports.
Priorities, my friend.

You can repeat the scores of the last eight NBA games, but unless the MVP is a Hoosier, you are not sure who he is.
BTW, how is Calbert Cheaney doing this year? Or Alan Henderson? Or Bonzi Wells?

You can see at least two basketball hoops from your yard.
:-)

You can name every one of Bobby Knight's exploits over the last few years.
And make a compelling defense for him (even though you slightly hate yourself for it...).

The biggest question of your youth was IU or Purdue.
I was an IU fan from early on. But they don't have an engineering school. Purdue's is well-regarded. On a campus visit in high-school I bought a t-shirt that said "Purdue University--I tested out of IU."

It cuts both ways :-)

Indianapolis is the BIG CITY.
Indianapolis rocks. Seriously.

Getting stuck by a train is a legitimate excuse for being late to school or work.
Muncie is surrounded by train tracks. Apparently in the 20s blocking train track intersections was the MO for trapping organized criminals in a town.

Everyone knows who the town cops are, where they live, and whether they're at home or on duty.
And some of us have still been pulled over by one when we blew by him sitting in his driveway.

You've been to the Covered Bridge Festival. And you took back roads to get there. Why sit in traffic?
Matthews, IN. Great fun.

To you, tenderloin is not an expensive cut of beef, but a big, salty, breaded & fried piece of pork served on a bun with pickle.
We've got to die of something, might as well be blockage of the arteries.

You end your sentences with prepositions, as in "Where's it at?" or "Where's he going to?"
I'm trying to figure out how to train this out of me. It still breaks through, almost daily...

I like it when life works out (or seems to)

2003-10-24T09:48:00.000-04:00

Last week was test week with tests in both my Finance class and my Operations Management class.

The coinciding of schedules was challenging and unnerving enough, but I did terribly on my first Finance test--about 71%. And I thought I did well! The fact that I need a B in the class for my company to reimburse me is always following my thoughts about grades. So. I studied hard for my Finance test. And got a 108%, bringing my class average up to a 94 (each test is progressively weighted more--which is weird, but really going to help me out I think).

Success #1.

Earlier this week I was operating solely on adrenaline when I procured a genuine date for next week. By genuine I mean no goofy online beginning, no strange progressive dating introduction, but a legitimate "friend of a friend" who I've met and seen before. Even some of my friends have met and seen her before.

But still--that whole context of calling up someone for the first time, asking them out--I find it unnerving.

My friend gave me good advice: I was confessing my nerves and was told "yell 'HUAH!' and then just dial the phone."

So I did.

Success #2.

And--finally--I've won free Cokes from their current cap promotion three straight times.

Success #3.

With this kind of roll, I should head to Vegas, baby!

I'm reminded of Oscar Wilde's quip: "The God's punish us by answering our prayers" (or something like that).

Whenever I get giddy I'm afraid the other shoe is going to drop...

Check this out--a great little local band.

2003-10-22T09:04:00.000-04:00

This weekend a friend gave me a CD telling me that he thought I'd like it.

Indeed.

It was just the disc--no case, no notes, no supporting material.

I called him the next day and said "these guys sound great--like a mix of Sixpence and Caedmon's Call."

Now I'm reading on their website that they collaborated with Steve Mason (Jars of Clay) and Matt Slocum (Sixpence None the Richer). Well, I was close.

Seriously, you might want to give these guys a listen: Dividing the Plunder.

I think I've identified the pain in my neck

2003-10-10T10:43:00.000-04:00

Brain pain the same for ego blow, physical punch - CNN.com

"There's something about exclusion from others that is perceived as being as harmful to our survival as something that can physically hurt us, and our body automatically knows this," the researcher said.

Eisenberger said the study suggests that social exclusion of any sort -- divorce, not being invited to a party, being turned down for a date -- would cause distress in the ACC.

That's the anterior cingulate cortex, the part of the brain that registers physical pain (but you all knew that, right :-).

What I wonder is how this affects memory and recall? How does the passage of time affect our recollection of those painful moments? And how does maturity effect it as well? Some rejection turns out to be good--the cool kids at school who ended up getting in trouble, the girl who turned you down but wasn't really right for you anyway....In retrospect some social exclusion is to our benefit. Does that realization affect how our brain perceives that pain? How our brain perceives the memory of that pain?

But I love how science continually confirms common sense.

Rejection hurts.

Wow. Profound.

So Little to Say

2003-10-10T10:29:00.000-04:00

I'm posting out of principle. It's nearing two weeks since I've typed anything here--and the last was just a link to a web article.

But sometimes it's best to remain silent when there is nothing to say. I don't know much, but I know when to keep my yap shut.

So for the few people that look to this to keep tabs on me, here's what is going on.

I passed a milestone of note recently. A couple weeks ago my three-year anniversary at Cardinal transpired. Since graduation I worked at Lockheed Martin Missiles & Space for just over a year and Chiquita for three years. As I'm not leaving Cardinal anytime soon this has been my longest stint at full-time employment.

And that's significant because I always find myself itching for change after three years. And so I am. That's probably more due to my current assignment than my relationship with Cardinal. My current project started in early February and was supposed to end in June. But I'm still here. I've got one more week to go. Just getting back into the Cardinal office for a bit will probably help rejuvenate me. But for the past few weeks it's been a drag--I hate driving downtown, I hate the slow elevators in my building (and their musty air), I hate the construction on 275, I hate having lunch by myself every day. I'm just ready for change.

And school isn't much better. A couple weeks ago I had my first cycle of tests. When you have class on subsequent nights (Wednesday and Thursday in my case) it's even worse when the tests are on the same schedule. So I studied Monday and Tuesday night for my two tests. But I must have lacked focus. I got a solid "C" on one and a "B-" on the other. This does not please me. Now I must do better the rest of the semester, but I hate having that kind of pressure on me.

What it really all comes down to is that I've just been too busy. My weekdays are so busy from start to finish that I really count on weekends to relax, do housework, just to reorganize and recharge. But I've had plans and commitments nearly every weekend since mid-August. There has been very little time spent just laying around, or cleaning, or hanging with my friends in Indiana. I've done zero reading that isn't assigned for class (and really, Finance and Management textbooks aren't all that enjoyable of reading fare). Fortunately my schedule starts to let up a bit. This weekend I'm busy Saturday, but the rest is free. The following weekend I've got a close friend's wedding--but that's it.

It's not all bad, though. I've been flying regularly. I passed by Flight Review a couple weeks ago, and I've managed to go up solo once a week since. It's hard to describe, but the whole scenario is so important to me that it seems surreal. When I'm driving out to the little airport I get nervous. Not nervous about flying--I'm quite confident with that. It's more of a haunting nervous, like I can't believe I'm really doing it, or I'd better enjoy it because it's a privilege that could easily disappear. It's hard to describe.

But it's fun and I grin just thinking about it. I have some friends who I've promised to take flying for years and I'm looking forward to start fulfilling some of those promises. And then next summer I hope to really go somewhere. I've drawn a mental circle around Cincinnati with a radius of about 400 miles: that'd be about 4 hours flying (and about all I could stand in a little plane). Sometime next summer hopefully I'll take a little weekend jaunt. Maybe Mackinac (a place I've never been). I've got friends I could visit, or all kinds of basebally parks I'd like to get to. Expensive? Yes. Difficult to plan because of weather? Yes. But a fun goal nonetheless.

One more thing that really excites me is that an important end is in sight. I don't talk about this much, but my friends know that me getting out of debt is an important priority of mine. It was a struggle post-college to manage all the opportunities, but one of the benefits of my (relatively) newfound singleness is the freedom to make my own choices--and stick to them. And I'm six months away. The credit cards have long been paid off. My school loans are gone. And my car should be mine in about April (it depends a bit on tax return timing, but about then).

It really can be done. Any of you out there working on it--stick to it.

I'm not much of a cheerleader, am I? :-)

So that's it. Not too exciting, eh? No exciting or entertaining dating stories. No significant traveling. No deep thoughts, or gut-wrenching situations, or heartwarming stories. Really, not much is going on at all. Work and school. Sticking to plans. Wondering where September went? Looking forward to vacations in December and February and pretty much just trying to survive until then...That's about it.

I'm telling you, I'm going to space...

2003-09-29T21:35:00.000-04:00

CNN.com - Private space race nears finale - Sep. 29, 2003

Personally, I'm rooting for the Scaled Composites team. I've met Burt Rutan and followed his career for a long-time. He's brilliant and down to earth and an iconoclast all at once.

Hooray!

2003-09-21T17:29:00.000-04:00

I certify that Mr. Brian Schermerhorn has satisfactorily complete the flight review required by FAR ¶61.56.

Journey to the Center

2003-09-15T14:51:00.000-04:00

I love the realm of myth--these stories that are true at the deepest possible level. They are true in that their point and purpose seem burned on every heart, their characters ring true with every individual, and their patterns and structure seem to repeat and reverberate through history. These stories transcend simple history--they simply Are.

At church we're talking about creation. In dramatic fashion god fashions something out of nothing adding layers and layers of complexity to the equation. And with every step God stands back and admires his work: "it is good."

The climax of the process, of course, is the creation of man. And it is "very good."

But the ecstasy of "very good" doesn't last very long. This first man was lonely and for the first time in Judeo-Christian tradition something is deemed as "not good."

Before the Fall, before the planet is populated, before we have civilization and war and Harlequin romance novels our history tells us that man was alone.

There it is, the human condition in a nutshell.

How does God provide for this need? A companion is fashioned. A helpmate is created. A partner in life is enlisted. And, if you know the story, it goes downhill from there...

But those ancient words ring so true. At the creation of Eve it is written that a man will leave his mother and father and be united to his wife. And so it is.

In many ways I am Adam (which is simply Hebrew for "man"). I wander through this paradise (ok, it is Ohio) with seemingly every need met. And yet I am unsatisfied. I too, am lonely. Filling this hole that we are all created with is a quest of mythic proportions. As the ancient story shows us you don't need to have experienced the loss of a particular person to long for the presence of someone--Adam experienced loneliness before he ever experienced togetherness.

But in our quest some of us have first experienced that togetherness. Does that make the quest easier or harder? I don't know.

My own personal journey has taken some peculiar turns. I have wandered through isolation and togetherness and back again. I have given my life to another and then been betrayed. I have tried telling myself--wanting to will myself to believe--that I was searching for the wrong object, that my quest was in vain, maybe even inappropriate, possibly even sinful. Ah, but that ancient narrative is reassuring even to me. God created man and it was good--and then it wasn't.

Just like my life.

In my quest I met someone last month. Like all things fresh and new I was excited. She is beautiful and smart, independent and confident. I felt simultaneously nervous and at ease. But it wasn't to be. We could probably still count the conversations we've shared in hours when she tells me that she has reconnected with an ex-boyfriend. You see, she too is on a quest--another myth being relived by the moment.

We cannot ever forget or escape that: the myth is ever present and always being lived out among us.

While I appreciated this person's honesty with me I was saddened. I think I was saddened less by the particulars and more by the overriding disappointment. Talking only to myself I can only sigh and say "another wrong turn, another dead end."

As I watch the myth being lived out in others I question my own history. There are no ex-es of mine to which I would possibly return. What does that say about me? And that's twice now in the past couple of years that I've met someone only to have her return to a previous relationship. What does that say about me?

Those things say nothing. They illuminate that the world is a big, random place. They illustrate that we are all on a journey--and the journey is dramatic, and eventful, and surprising. All of us people, sometimes we simply become alerted to these strange goings-on around us--sometimes you are all as scared of me as I am startled by all of you.

Why Me Lord

2003-09-12T09:40:00.000-04:00

Why me Lord, what have I ever done
To deserve even one
Of the pleasures I've known

Tell me Lord, what did I ever do
That was worth love from you
Or the kindness you've shown.

Lord help me Jesus, I've wasted it so
Help me Jesus I know what I am
Now that I know that I've needed you so
Help me Jesus, my soul's in your hand.

Tell me Lord, if you think there's a way
I can try to repay All I've taken from you
Maybe Lord, I can show someone else What I've been through myself
On my way back to you.

Lord help me Jesus, I've wasted it so
Help me Jesus I know what I am
Now that I know that I've needed you so
Help me Jesus, my soul's in your hand.

RIP, Johnny Cash

My favorite phrase of the day

2003-09-11T09:48:00.000-04:00

"When you've been through hell, purgatory is a breeze."
-Robert Butterworth, a Los Angeles trauma psychologist

He's quoted today in the Cincinnati Enquirer.

Haunting memories

2003-09-11T09:21:00.000-04:00

This may end up being highly inappropriate. That's the thing with trauma--you never really know how to "properly" respond or communicate or share.

I read this article in the doctor's office a couple weeks ago. It may very well be the only time in my life I've picked up a copy of Esquire magazine. But then as I drove to work today, and watched the minutes click by on the clock, and thought of 24 short months ago---this article was nearly all I could cling to as a point of reference. So I'll share...

The Falling Man, by Tom Junod.

I think this is funny

2003-09-10T16:52:00.000-04:00

Read...

People paid for Blogger and all they got was a lousy sweatshirt ;-)

Things to do before I die

2003-09-10T16:28:00.000-04:00

See a movie at a drive-in.

It's shocking to me that I could grow up in Middle America and never see a drive-in movie. But it's true. As I drove through Oakley the other day and saw that the local drive-in was closed for the season I realized that yet another summer has slipped by and I still haven't met that goal.

Next year.

Goals like that are funny. There's a whole list of things that I want to accomplish "eventually." Some are significant, some are trivial.

One of those things was to land at Meigs field in Chicago. Anyone who is a Microsoft Flight Simulator fan will recognize that as the default airport. It's a unique place, cutting right out into Lake Michigan with tremendous views of the skyline and easy access to the heart of Chi-town.

And I love Chicago. But really, who doesn't?

"One of these days" I was going to fly up there for a day or a weekend. Maybe catch the train up to Addison and drop by Wrigley Field. Or peruse the Art Institute. Or just have lunch and leave--just to say I did.

The problem is, in prototypical Chicago political chicanery, Meigs field was suddenly closed and torn up this summer. If you're interested in the gory details then click here>> or here>>.

As much as anything else that motivated me to start flying again. I realized that waiting for "one of these days" can have disastrous ramifications. And life is just too short for that. The funny thing is that that kind of attitude feels wanton and luxurious to me. I was raised to be careful, and to prioritize and take care of needs first and wants later.

So it surprised me when I was talking to my dad about these things. We were walking around AirVenture and I was explaining my new summer goal of regaining pilot currency. He shocked me by being extremely supportive. The support didn't surprise me, but his emphasis did. I expected a cautionary warning, perhaps a brief consideration of what that money would be worth if I stuck it in a retirement account...you know, something like that.

But no. My dad stopped us, looked straight at me and said "I've never regretted a single dollar I spent on flying." When I was a kid dad owned several airplanes: a get-there-fast Mooney, a classic Commonwealth Skyranger, a homebuilt Fly-Baby and a couple others in various states of building or restoration. Then when he developed high blood pressure he was grounded for medical reasons.

He made it clear to me that even back then he was aware that there were many things he could have done with his time and money and energy. But he pursued a love and shared that with his family.

You know what's peculiar, though? I earned my pilot's license back in early 1998. And I still haven't flown with my dad. That's another one of those "one of these days" kind of things on my list. Hopefully checking that one off isn't too far off.

Stories of awkwardness (in two parts)

2003-09-09T17:09:00.000-04:00

Awkward, Part I

Because I really have no clue who my target audience is this will be deliberately vague.

People can be peculiar creatures. Recently I've become aware of how a person in my recent past has collided with a person from my not-so-recent past. It's horrible. The delightful thing about the past is that it goes away. That's the theory, anyway. I'm beginning to think that it doesn't go away. Not ever. It just lingers, and you never know when or how it will crop up again.

My friends are familiar with a common refrain of mine. Spoken slowly, it goes like this: "nothing would surprise me."

And yet I am continually surprised. When will I learn?

Awkward, Part II

I saw David Wilcox in concert last Friday night. He was tremendous. My introduction to Mr. Wilcox come by way of Tim "insert forthcoming blog link here" Nardoni. He gave me a CD of David's music and I've craved seeing him ever since. He has this delightful ability to pick his guitar, tell a story, lapse into a song, continue picking, continue telling a story, and then say "the voices in my head are telling me to play this..."

When we got there he was just introducing a song about how we have our most honest conversations in a relationship when it's breaking up. And given that, how delightful it would be if we started relationships by having the break-up conversations first ("because, well, I have some patterns...").

I'm laughing along knowingly. And growing nervous.

When you're on a second date you're not at all ready to have that kind of honest conversation. I much prefer thinking that my companion is delightful with no noticeable flaws. And I much prefer maintaining the illusion within myself that she finds me the same way.

She was laughing and I was laughing. And then I wonder...why does she find that funny? I wonder what her story is like compared to mine? I wonder if she's had those honest conversations, and wondered why they didn't happen earlier?

When the concert was over my date said "that was terrible" with a lilt (I love someone with a healthy sense of sarcasm!). She said he was like Mr. Rogers for adults, "so soothing as he sings and tells stories. As you listen you just feel like you're ok and everything will be ok."

And so it is, and so it shall be.