An Open Letter To My Kids...

I wrote my three kids tonight. They are scattered all over the country right now. So I e-mailed them some father's day thoughts. I hope they don't mind, and I really don't know why I'm doing it, but I decided to make it an "open letter." That means I am sharing it with you ... the world. It's just that I'm so proud of them that I want everybody to know what amazing people they are.

So forgive me kids, if this should have been kept private. But I'm shouting it from the roof tops (blog tops...)


Dear Kids,

Ok, you are not really kids anymore. But compared to me ... you are kids. So I reserve the right to call you that. :)

I just wanted to thank you guys for making me probably the happiest dad on the planet. You all know it's been a crazy couple of years around our house. Usually not in a good way. But when it comes to my kids my heart is full of thanksgiving and praise. God somehow intervened in our little family and did the extraordinary.

Kelli, you are an excellent mother, wife, and "minister" to those who leave children in your care at church. You constantly amaze me. I often find myself watching you when every one else is watching Elle. Your maturity and wisdom stretch far beyond the norm. On top of all of that you always have time to love on your dad when he needs it. Being at your home today was pure joy ... not to mention fun. Thank you for being the daughter I would have designed had God asked me for blue prints! Sometimes I find us in the midst of a conversation and I suddenly realize that you are far wiser than anything you could possibly have learned from me. How did that happen? Only God.

Scott, when I look at you I often feel joy and sadness at the same time. The joy is because of the man you are, the way you are spending your life, the bride you are about to take, and because for some strange reason you still like just hanging out with me. That's pretty unusual and I am very honored. The sadness is simply because the guy that used to sleep 30 feet away now sleeps 300 miles away. But this is as it should be. I deeply believe it is God ordained. I miss you every day but I also know that all I have to do is hit #4 on speed dial and you are right there. (I'm sure I over use it but you never get mad at me for it.) Thank you for "getting it" when it comes to the exceptional circumstances of the last few years and for walking through so much of it with me. And I have to tell you, I simply cannot WAIT for our "Great Baseball Extravaganza" the week before your wedding! I feel like we should be taking our ball gloves and playing catch in the hotel parking lot. (Why not?!)

Chris, just hearing your voice on the phone from Centrifuge causes me to feel this amazing glow deep inside. I can remember watching you last year as you totally DOMINATED mega-relay. You are living out one of my dreams ... being a 'Fuge staffer. I have such a deep respect for the way that you teach, encourage and love those kids. I know that it is not easy when you are tired of everything from cafeteria food to the heat to an over dose of teen weirdness. I know that God has huge plans for you. You and I share something else in common. I hated school just as much as you do. But just as I got through it, you will to. You have to because God is calling you to something and He needs you to be educated in order to do it. I'm behind you, praying, caring and looking for ways to help you kick academic butt. By the way, I find myself sitting in your room sometimes missing the "COME ON!" that we've heard so many times. We are keeping your place ready for your return.

Ok, well that's all I wanted to say. Except for one thing. I love you guys more than I love life. More than I love my next breath. My life did not really begin until the three of you came along.

I am praying for you tonight and every night.

Dad

He Did Good

Thanks Dad. I miss you.
Ron

Life Between The Dashes (or "How I Learned to eat dirt for Jesus")

Today a really dumb thing happened. And I had nothing to do with it. I was not even in the county. I saw it on the news and mentioned it to my wife. Turns out she was driving through the Illinois interstate highway system making her way to downtown St. Louis when she ... literally ... ran across the dumbness. She said it was difficult not to see.

It seems that in the early morning rush hour a semi-truck was driving down I-55. He was south bound which means he was heading toward the mighty, muddy Mississippi. His route would take him to Missouri and the beautiful ... if strange ... St. Louis Arch. You know the one. "The Gateway To The West." So this trucker was hauling some kind of industrial grade paint. Evidently one of the barrels turned over inside his trailer and sprung a leak. The paint flowed out of its holder, out of its trailer, and colored one entire lane of the expressway bright orange. For miles. It looked sort of like this. Well, actually it looked exactly like this...

To me it is just kind of funny. To the people driving behind him it was a lawsuit waiting to be filed. Can you imagine cruising to work on a muggy summer morning with the sun at your back, maybe some morning talk show on the radio when SUDDENLY your lane turns orange ... and so does your car? Can you further imagine what that would be like if you were taking advantage of the weather by dropping the top on your spiffy convertible sports car?

Oh my.

You know, I actually wish that life were a little more like that. When you are driving down the interstate you have a pretty good idea where you lane is. The state highway department goes to all of the trouble to paint these big white lines like huge "dashes" along your route. They even use reflective paint so that you can see them better at night. You don't want to straddle those white lines. Chances are you'll get squished from both sides. No, you want to stay between the dashes. That is where the driving is the best. On the highway life is best lived BETWEEN the dashes.

Oh that it were as simple and as clear in the rest of life. True, there are "dashes" to lead you through the moral issues of life. You might call it the law. You might call it the bible. You might call it the "Ten Commandments." You would be right on all counts. But there are precious few reflective dashes to help guide us through the daily decisions that you and I must make in order to best fulfill our purpose in life. Yes, I do believe that we are created with a purpose. None of that random chance stuff for me. It takes more faith not to believe in God than it takes to believe in Him. (Yes, that is my opinion. But it is also my blog. So get over it.) I want to get from the point of my creation (aka: birth) to the point of my graduation (aka: death) by the proper path. That would be the one God desires that I travel.

And, alas, the dashes are sometimes few and far between.

I have been praying lately and God has been listening. He has not been answering (yet) in any fashion that I have been able to discern. And can I be honest here for just a second? It is beginning to irritate me. He told me to ask and that He would answer. It's all in the bible and pretty easy to find. But get this. Psalm 16: 11 says, "You make known to me the path of life (the dashes!); in Your presence is fullness of joy; at Your right hand are pleasures forever more." Pretty cool, huh? I think so too. But back up the paint truck for a minute. Before you go getting too exuberant on me look at Psalm 10: 1. "Why, O Lord, do You stand afar of? Why do You hide yourself in times of trouble?"

I hate it when He does that. Some would read those two verses that are written so closely together and say, "Ah ha! A contradiction in the bible!" Those people don't understand much about God's ways. A person who has gotten to know God would say, "Ah Ha! Sovereignty at its best!" The author (or author's) of these two chapters was experiencing God on God's own terms. He will paint dashes on your road sometimes and the cruising comes easy. A mile further down the road things turn to gravel and seem to stay that way forever. And it is all because God is going to do what He is going to do and you don't get a vote. Sometimes walking with God brings joy unimaginable. Sometimes walking with God brings frustration beyond comprehension.

Right now? I'm praying for a spiritual truck to spring a leak and paint God's path for me an unmistakably bright orange. It doesn't happen very often. And right now would be a really good time for it. Gravel gets old after a bit. Dust filters up through your floorboard and into your nostrils and onto your tongue. The windshield gets dirty from the inside and you start to wonder if you strayed off the trail. A bright orange path would be quite a welcome sight these days.

But if it's going to be gravel ... it's going to be gravel. Keep walking with God and you will learn to eat dirt with the best of them. I never played much football. The extent of my pigskin career was frequent Sunday afternoon games with church friends back in the Chicago burbs. I was never big enough to block. (I weighed 125 lbs. when I married Debbie. don't worry ... I got over it.) I never had a good enough arm to quarterback. So I would occasionally get the ball handed off to me or thrown in my direction down field. And on those sunny fall days I learned a valuable lesson. When you are holding the ball and focused on the goal line NEVER LET YOUR FEET STOP MOVING. We were stupid enough to play tackle football without pads or helmets. I don't advise it. I never did like getting hit. So, no matter what happens .. KEEP YOUR FEET MOVING. Stop for just a second and you are a goner. And that is when it really, really hurts.

When you are following Jesus never stop. If you don't know for sure where you are then just keep walking in the direction He pointed you in the last time you heard from Him. If the gravel turns to orange pavement, lucky you. But if it stays gravel ... well, if it stays gravel just eat the dirt and keep your feet moving.

And never forget ... you may not know where He is ... but He most certainly knows where you are.

A Taylor Update

This evening I received an e-mail from Taylor's mom, Tanya. As you may remember, Taylor is a nine year old little girl battling Leukemia. She lives in the suburbs of Chicago. The good news is that Taylor has been in remission. (See. I told you God listens to our prayers.) I'll leave you with the e-mail from tonight and then trust you to "hit your knees" yet one more time on her behalf.

"Hello Ron,
Hope all is well.. I updated Taylor's caringbridge site as to whats going on, please get the prayers going, we will be heading back to Chicago tomorrow for the doctor's to decide if they want to start chemo...REMISSION!!!!!We have to pray she's still in remission!!!!!I will try my best to keep her caringbridge site updated..Thanks again for all of the prayers...Have a blessed night!"

Therefore ... (things that occured to me while drifting aimlessly through Lowes)

1. Nearly all churches want pastor's who know everything that there is to know about God. Nobody knows everything that there is to know about God. Nobody ever will. It is impossible. And yet churches will not accept pastor's who freely admit that they don't always "get it." Therefore ... churches insist that their pastor's lie.

2. God expects His kids to be truthful. Being truthful often leads to undesirable results in life. Therefore ... if you tell the truth in a difficult situation and pay a difficult price for doing so, and then realize that if you had it to do over you would probably lie to avoid the consequences, you are not a godly and honest man. You have nothing to feel good about. You are simply a man without the foresight to see the results of your actions before taking them.

3. When you buy a bible that prints the words of Jesus in red you are buying a bible that assumes that the words spoken by Christ are more true, holy, and inspired than the words in black. (What other possible reason could there be for seperating them?) And yet we claim that the entire Word of God is inspired and "God breathed" by the Holy Spirit. The bible does not simply contain the Word of God, it is the Word of God. Therefore ... all of the words should be in red OR the words of Jesus are somehow more inspired than the words of the Holy Spirit. There is no third option.

4. God loves me. In my brain I believe that He said that and I believe that He meant that. The Holy Spirit whispers it in my ear. And yet my brain often refuses to assimilate this truth into my everyday living patterns. I live as though God tolerates me. Evidently in my heart I actually believe that God tolerates me. This is shown by the fact that I allow the dismal cloud of failure to float over me even when I am not failing. I only out run it when I do something really, really good. Therefore ... when I fail to live as though God loves me no matter what I have done, I am calling God a liar and I am doing so based upon my least dependable personality trait ... my feelings. And yet after thirty-nine years of knowing Christ I still, on most days, live the lie.

5. Point #4 brings us back to point #1. I am a pastor and truth sometimes is lacking in my life. Therefore ... I am going to stop thinking and try to figure out how to break the cycle. And I am going to begin with a long nap.

My Shuttle Muddle

Ladies and gentlemen, your "Airport Customer Transportation Transition Specialist" ... is officially and permanently grounded. I know, I know. "How can this be?" you ask.

Simple. I flunked the drug test. No, not the illegal drug test. The legal drug test. You know, prescription medication. My fun times with adrenaline exhaustion requires that I take a particular medication that caused some unknown doctor that I never even got to meet to slap my wrist through his physician's assistant and say, "No, no! Bad driver!" It seems that they think I will inevitably fall asleep while piloting people through the city. Nevermind that I have not had a ticket since 1978. Doesn't matter that I have not been involved in an accident that was my fault since 1972. I am a danger to all serious travelers seeking to go the two miles from the airport to the rental parking lot. So what if I drove a youth group in vans the equivilent of three times around the globe without so much as a fender bender. Mother's ... lock up your children. The killer almost got loose in the short bus.

Yeah. I'm doubting it. I seldom fall asleep before 1AM as it is. Most of the drivers they currently have are clearly on drugs too. The back alley kind. But nevermind. My personal doctor told them and told them that they are wrong and that I'm "good to go." You know, "Give the guy the keys. Let him drive." But a nurse called me into a side room and told me that it wasn't really about doctor's. It's about lawyers. If I actually WERE involved in an accident the mean lawyers would search and find out the meds I'm on and then they would sue not only Enterprise but the doctor that cleared me to drive.

So congratulations are in order. I have managed to complete two careers in just six months and twelve days! This is cause for celebration!

And tomorrow ... I'm going to get a paper route. Then again, those bike's can be pretty tricky.

Your almost "Airport Customer Transportation Transition Specialitst" signing off ... for the last time!

Feeling Good Is Good

So it is June and that means it is hot. This is, after all, St. Louis. What is hotter than June in St. Louis? July in St. Louis. We have so much to look forward to.

And I began the day right too! I fried my cell phone. You know how to fry a piece of potato, right? Hot grease. You know how to fry a cell phone? Water. Any temp will do. I chose luke warm because that was what was dripping from my hair when the phone rang and I answered it. It was playing my wife's ring tone and I make it a commitment to do what ever is necessary to get to the phone whe she calls. I stepped out of the shower, dried off my hands so as NOT to fry the phone ... and promptly fried it anyway with "head drippings." Way to go. But this was a problem I could make go away by simply throwing $299 at it. As a matter-of-fact, I am a problem that will go away if you'll just throw $299 at me. Care to give it a try?

So I had a fried phone and after driving to the Sprint store in West County I had a fried head too. But the best part of the day was the trip. It was the drive. On Emma-the-Mustang the top was down. Outside the temps were up. Above me the sun beat down. Around me the stereo was turned up.

And then I looked up. Up at the blue sky. And I felt Him smile. You know ... Him. Abba. Father. God. And it was not about the drive or the warmth or the music or the sun. It was about suddenly, unexpectedly being awash in His love and His presence. Why, at that moment, did God choose to flood my soul with Himself? I have no idea. But I am so grateful. It has been a long dry period. I have felt barren ... cracked and scorched from the heat of life. Amazingly, inexplicably, all God has to do is ... be there ... and allow me the grace to sense Him, and it is enough.

I have felt bad and I have felt Good. And feeling good is good.

Because He said so, that's why

I learned something today. Brace yourself. Here it is.

I am right and they are wrong.

That's it. Thought you might want to know.

Blog over.

My ... I look so natural

Tonight Debbie, Laura, and I attended a free preview of the upcoming movie "Evan Almighty." (Keyword: "free") I was invited because I was/am/will be a pastor. Whatever. By the way, GREAT MOVIE. Go. As soon as it comes out. No they did not pay me to say that. I still had to shell out $13.50 for popcorn and cokes but it was worth it.

So the entire theatre was filled with pastor types, their wives, and in our case their son's girlfriend. We were seated on the lowest row of the stadium seating section. Before the movie began I turned around, sat on the railing, looked at the people behind me and said in a semi-loud voice, "So. I suppose you are all wondering why I called you here tonight." Most people kept up their own conversations and ignored the doofus down front. But the couple sitting behind us asked me where I pastor. I told them that I didn't any more. They asked why. I told them that they did not want to know. They said that they did want to know. I told them again, "No, you really don't want to know." They insisted. Sooooo ... I told them.

Big mistake.

They asked where I was working now and my wife proudly told them that I was an "Airport Customer Transportation Transition Specialist" for Enterprise. I beamed. Yes, I really did.

The man of the couple, obviously a pastor somewhere, stood up and slid down so that he was hanging right over me. He put out his hand and I shook it. He did not let go. Instead he launched into a TEN FREAKEN MINUTE STORY to drive home his point.

What was his point, you ask?

I am going to die. God is going to kill me. I am called into the ministry and because I have accepted a job outside of my calling I am doomed.

We are talking death here.

I was not able to engage the man in a conversation. He held my hand tightly in his the entire time and he never NEVER never stopped speaking. Every time I would try to say something he simply spoke louder. Then you know what he did? He prayed over me. You know what he prayed? Neither do I. I was afraid to close my eyes and listen. I figured there was an outside chance that he was packing at least a knife and was going to appoint himself as God's messenger or avenging angel.

Drat. This is so inconvenient. I had so much to live for. My oldest son is getting married in one month. He and I have been planning the trip of a lifetime the week before the wedding. We have already bought airplane tickets, made hotel reservations, procured a rental car, purchased New York Waterway Ferry tickets, and have tickets to watch the Orioles play in Baltimore and the Yankees in New York. As if that was not enough I now realize that I have never spent the night in Toledo. I don't know why that makes me so sad. It was not important until I found out that it was not going to happen.

There is a lightening bolt with my name on it. Or a car bumper homing in on my tushy. Or a meteorite plunging in my direction. Or a sinkhole preparing to swallow me alive in bed tonight. Or a hot dog prepared especially to lodge in my esophagus. Perhaps an insidious disease is multiplying its evil cells in my body right this very minute. Bailey the Killer Beagle may be ready to pounce and live up to her namesake.

It really doesn't matter how I go. Oh crap, I just polished my shoes yesterday. What a waste.

Well, it's been a good life. I cannot complain. And there is no use running from God. In my experience when He shoots, He scores. So I'd just like to take this opportunity to say ... it's been good knowing ya. Sorry to leave so soon. I'll try to get my various messes cleaned up before I go. Debbie, keep what you want, let the kids go through the rest and sell the remainder on e-bay.

One last time.... Airport Customer Transportation Transition Specialist ... OUT!

P.S. Please note that I am resisting the urge to say, "So long and thanks for all the fish!" But now I suppose I've said it. So nevermind.

OOPS! I did it again ... (with apologies to Brittney)

Yes, I must be doing something wrong because, darn it, I keep getting hired. First there was the substitute teaching thing which really went well (if you don't count that one kid that stood ON his desk and dared me to touch him. I, of course, declined and told him that I had just walked up next to him because I'd never really heard anybodies brains go "SQUISH" on a concrete floor before and I didn't want to miss this opportunity.) But, alas, school ended and once again I have been sleeping late and getting reaquainted with Ronduh the motorcycle. (Named because of the way I treated her the first time I got on her ... "Ron. Duh." Let's just say it was messy.)

And now I have accepted a position with Enterprise. You know, the people that rent cars. I will be an "Airport Customer Transportation Transition Specialist." I get a cool Enterprise polo shirt and everything. Gosh, I hope it is blue. It brings out my eyes. And once again I've managed to score a job that does NOT make me go to meetings. This is important to me. My personal opinion of meetings is as follows ... if the meeting lasts longer than it takes me to consume one half of a can of Vanilla Coke SOMEBODY is wasting SOMEBODIES time. Know what I mean?

So much for sleeping the summer away. I'm hoping that if and when I decide not to do this anymore I'll be able to score a job in the airport control tower.

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Hi. My name is Ron and I work on the shuttle...

Oops. Sorry. Wrong shuttle.



Your Airport Customer Transportation Transition Specialist ... OUT!

Reasonable Service

(Authors note: Those of you who know me or have followed my journey via this blog over the last months know that I voluntarily resigned a long held ministry position in a church that held my heart passionately captive for over two decades. It has been six months and a few scattered days since I left that place. It has been a time of personal healing, internal inventory, dis-equilibrium, gut checking, reflection, and God seeking. The months were very well spent and very helpful. I have separated the questions and issues which can be answered and understood from those that cannot. It was a lot of very hard work.

And this morning God told me it is finally time to put it down. As if that is not significant enough He also told me how to do it. This brief blog is not written for any purpose other than "stake driving." This is simply a "note to self." Please do not interpret it in any other way. If you choose to do so let it be known ... that is on you. There are pieces of history in every person’s life that they can never really make peace with. That is certainly true for me. But there is always a time to close the book. Seal the envelope. Lock the drawer. This, for me, is that day. That hour. May it all be for a greater good.)

God spoke to me this morning. He spoke loudly and clearly. I heard His voice through another human being. He is a guy that is 400 miles removed from this desk in my home office. But through the miracle of the World Wide Web I was able to listen to him "real time." I heard his words and saw his face through my computer as he was speaking them.

His topic was Romans 12: 1, "Therefore, in view of God's mercy, offer yourselves as living sacrifices, unto God. This is your reasonable service."

Reasonable service.

To give God my all ... everything I am and have ... is nothing more than my "reasonable service." Why? Because He has given me everything. Life. Forgiveness. Family. Health. Friends. The ability to sit back, look at my life as I have lived it to date and simply exhale, knowing that it is all OK. The pressure is off because of what Jesus did for me.

Reasonable service.

No man owes me anything. Neither explanation nor apology. Neither applause nor condemnation. I am not owed applause or even a "thank you" because all of the good I might have done, even if it was at great personal cost, is simply my reasonable service to God. I am not owed condemnation because any mistakes or even blatant disobedience on my part have already been paid for by the sacrifice of Christ.

If I owe you an apology please accept this as that offering. If I have hurt you ... I am sorry. I honestly don't know I have hurt you because I have tried to cover all of those bases in real life conversations. But if I missed you ... I am sorry.

Danger, injury and even risk of death are required from Christ followers. Because of what He has done for us it is our reasonable service. It is not out of the ordinary, unexpected or to be looked upon as shocking.

Reasonable service.

Serve to the best of your ability. Give it all. Everything. Hold back nothing. When you walk off of the playing field of life one day exit knowing that you "left it all on the field." Do all you can and leave the rest to God.

I cannot say that I have done that in every day and in every circumstance of my life. But I know that I can say it as it applies to the last two decades. I gave it all. I left it all on the field. I left the field drained and pained. I was rather useless to anybody.

And today the book of that time of life ... at God's command ... I intentionally close mentally, emotionally, spiritually. To paraphrase Paul again it is time to turn away from the past and run the race toward the future.

I left it all on the field. God has spent the last six months refilling my energy levels and when He is ready He will show me how and where to pour that out again.

OK, so this has not been a fun blog to read. My apologies. Most of you have no idea what in the world this crazy guy is talking about. That is good. For those of you who do ... thank you for putting up with my confession. I thought that this was something that I did not want to write for public consumption. And then I realized that I had to. Not for you. For me. Do not try to understand it. Just forget it and wait for a better blog tonight or tomorrow. This is just something that I had to do.

Reasonable service. Leaving it on the field. It is a good day.

Church = Starbucks + Diamond Vision - Brains? (Nah. It's just Hank, Peggy & Bobby. What do you expect?)

Me?

I have been doing some thinking lately. That is not all that unusual. But I am usually thinking about things like food, baseball, napping, or food. I am not exactly certain what brought on this burst of real mental fortitude. I was spending some time alone with God a few days ago and, well, it just happened.

I had a thought.

Actually I had a series of thoughts. I started with one and it ran into another and it ran into another and it ran into another. You get the picture? The thoughts were not at all random. I am just not certain what triggered them. Let me try to explain. Maybe you can help me out.

God surprises me. I know, I know. You are thinking, "that's your big revelation?" Well, no. Not exactly. The revelation that shivers my timbers is the last in the series of thoughts. So let's take them in order and you can tell me if I'm crazy or not.

God loves. That is precisely where my mental excursion began. I was reading in the book of Exodus. Fascinating stuff. Try it sometime. And I was noticing how God, who by the way, had just made the world relatively recently, started doing really nice things for His people. The Jews were pretty much living under the thumb of the Egyptians. Forced labor, if you will. And God broke them out. It's a great story and it reminded me that God loves His chosen people, the Jews.

That thought delivered me to the doorway of John 3: 16 where it says, "For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life." Did you pick-up on the not so subtle change? God loves His people the Jewish nation but God also loves the entire world.

I really do not have trouble believing either of these things. I am convinced by all I see in nature and read in God's Word that He is the very definition of love. And so it would make sense that He would love His special chosen few AND every person on the globe as well. Those thoughts flow for me. No sweat.

And all of that leads to my next major revelation. God loves me. ME. He really does. When He sent His Son Jesus to die on a bloody cross it was for me as much as it was for Billy Graham or the Pope. And I don't have trouble believing that because God IS love. It is His very nature. He is the definition of love.

You with me so far? Good. One more easy step and then it starts getting hairy.

God DID send Jesus to the cross to save all of those who will trust in Him. That is bordering on unbelievable. It is really, really close. But I do believe it. The God of the bible gave of Himself over and over and over. It is not a huge leap to understand that His love is SO HUGE (He is God, after all) that He would actually lay down His life for us. It's mind-boggling. But I can and do believe it.

Here is where it begins to get crazy for me.

It would seem logical to me that once God saves me ... once I have trusted in the sacrificial death of His Son, Jesus ... He would sit back, relax, listen to some angel music, maybe cruise the galaxies and tinker with some black holes. Why not? He's God. He did what He came to do. Someday I'll die and I'll go to live with Him for eternity because He bought me back from satan (I refuse to capitalize his name.) You know, mission accomplished. Throne time.

But that is not the way He works. And this is where I get all breathless and confused and humbled and awe struck.

Instead of popping the top on a heavenly cold drink and waiting for us to show up ... God sticks around and gets involved. I-N-V-O-L-V-E-D. In my life. In the details.

Ok, I'm going to confess. You know what really got my brain started down this path? Here it is. I'll lay it out for you. Since resigning from the church I was youth pastor at for 23 years I have interviewed with several other churches and exchanged e-mails and telephone calls with even more. And you know what I have discovered? With a very few exceptions each one of them has been dysfunctional. Seriously dysfunctional. And I almost decided to go ahead and pastor one because, well, because somebody has got to do it and I have pastoring in my blood. And at the last minute ... just before I got to the point of putting myself into the position of saying "yes" God jerked my hand (mouth) out of the way. He said, "no." The details do not matter. Just trust me that He did.

And that is when I realized something HUGELY important. Over the last seven years of my life I have learned to meet God in an entirely new way. Well, new to me. Old to some people. But in those meetings I have discovered that God is SO INTIMATE with ME that I just cannot get over it. He is so real. He is so present. He is so dependable. He loves me so much ... and that is very hard for me to accept. He loves you the same way. I do not know if you have figured it out yet. I deeply believe that most Christian's never do figure it out. That goes for leadership as well as followers. If you have not felt God's arms hold you up when you could not stand on your own ... if you have not heard God speak words of love and unimaginable passion to your spirit ... you are missing far more than you realize. No, I am not an elitist. I am just like you. But I have learned to shut-up and listen. I hope you have too. It is in the shutting up and listening that God speaks. Try it if you haven't. You might get shocked.

God loves ME so much that He will not allow me to "settle." He wants me where He wants me. I have no desire to pastor a flock that just pretends to want a shepherd. Nope. Not gonna happen. Not for me. I want to pastor a flock that is passionate and hungry for the bread of life, thirsty for living water, pacing with impatience waiting for God to show-up and do something so unexplainable that only He could have done it.

And that shocks me. God loves me that much. ME. Not simply "us." ME.

I would rather spend the rest of my life driving a bus that God told me to drive than spending it pastoring a church God did not tell me to pastor. I've taken too many hits, walked too many miles, fought too many battles at the gates of hell to give it all away now for a compromise. It's all or nothing.

I don't know what to do with the kind of love that God reduces from being simply corporate to totally personal. But I promise you one thing.

I am going to find out.

Getting the old "stink eye" from mom

Today is the first birthday of my wonderful granddaughter. Elle has had one heck of a year. She went from this huge baby with a mega-head to a huge one year old with a mega-head. But that is to be expected because that head is chock full of important information. Like most babies she went from sleeping in mom and dad's room into her own bedroom. She went from just laying there in an all "help me because I can't do anything for myself" kind of way to a rather motivated young thing that army crawls, walks around furniture holding herself up, and totally captivates any room full of adults.

In short ... my granddaughter is better than yours. So there! Get over it!

And now she is one. She knows sign language for "more." Comes in handy when she's around her grandpa (that would be me) and he's feeding her straws full of Coke when her mom's back is turned. And today? Today she got her first true fix of chocolate! Her party had a real chocolate fountain. I waited until everybody had their back turned and then Elle and I creeped over to it. I only meant to get her close enough to it for her to go "wow!" mentally. But then her little hand shot out and before I could react it was in her mouth ... in her face ... and probably several other places that her mom is still discovering.


That is when I got the old "stink eye." I am absolutely amazed by the changes in my own daughter in the past year. She did not just mature into a mom. She grew up into an entirely new person. And I love it! I love what I see in her! She was once the perfect daughter. I mean seriously. If I could have designed my own daughter she would have looked just like the one God gave me. But now Kelli ... well, Kelli is also the most amazingly (nearly) perfect mother on top of it all. Sometimes I am in a room with the entire family and I know I should be looking at Elle. Everybody else is looking at Elle. She's what the story is all about these days. But I catch myself watching MY daughter ... Kelli ... and just going, "Wow. God, look what you did. This is truly amazing. Again... wow." Today was one of those days. I did not even mind the stink eye. Hey, I deserved it. I rather figured that I would get it if I got caught. And I knew the odds of my getting caught were in the high 90 percentile. But in order to introduce my Elle to chocolate it was worth the risk. And yes, it was worth getting caught. I'd do it again. Heck, I probably will!

Happy 1st birthday, baby Elle. You aren't really a baby anymore. You are officially a "toddler" I think. And you'll love toddling. It opens a whole new world! I'd be honored if you would let me explore it with you. Just think of all the trouble we can get into together!

And happy 1st anniversary of parenting, Kelli and Joe. You amaze me. No, I'm not really surprised. I knew you were exemplary people. But you have taken it to the ridiculous stage. And that is a very, very good thing.

Well Elle ... we've done the Coke thing. We've done the chocolate thing. Give me a whisper in the ear when you are ready to check out ... PIZZA!!!!

I love you. I like you. I would fight to the death for you. And now I want to sit back and enjoy the journey you are beginning through this always interesting thing called "life." Thanks for letting me be your grandpa. But not just your grandpa ... your "tick tock grandfather clock" grandpa. Don't worry. You and I know what that means and that is really all that matters.
Can't wait for tomorrow ... Grandpa

Only God ... A Taylor Update

I confess that I am sitting here shaking my head. Sometimes life kicks you around and you wonder where God is and why He doesn't seem to come running to your side. (By the way, there is always a reason.) And sometimes ... every now and then ... when you really don't expect it ... GOD COMES BLASTING THROUGH the closed and shuttered assumptions of our lives and kicks the crap out of the enemy.

A case in point. I received the following e-mail from Taylor's mom less than an hour ago.

"Ron,
Hello. Wow how prayers work. Our Oncologist came in today(05-24-2007), and told me 4 doctors have confirmed, they are waiting on one more pathologist to confirm but they say Taylor has gone in to remission!!!!!!!THANK YOU GOD!!!!! We will still do everything the same, chemo for six months, all of the treatments, all of the visits. At this point we need to pray that there be no relapse, no transplant needed(so if there is no relapse we wouldnt ever have to worry about a transplant), and also that she doesn't get a fungal infection which is very easy to do with Leukemia patients. Please continue your prayers they are working. That is my everything that keeps us going is FAITH!!!! I know when the doctor came in and gave me some good news, I felt like 50 pounds was taken off of my shoulders, and all I said to myself was Satan you lost!!!!!!!!!Taylor looked and me and just smiled, I just wanted to cry(happy cry), I told her we still have a long road but we are going to do it...You guys thank you for your continued support, friendship, caring, and most of all prayers.......I will keep everyone posted what's going on, but for right now Thank you for letting me be able to share some good news with you.....She did have a heart test today those results will be back in a couple days(but we all know those will be just fine;)))))))))!!!!!!"

Would you like to join me in saying what I am thinking? "Only God." There is no doctor that could make this happen. There is no insurance company that could demand this. There is no treatment ... no medication ... that could guarantee this kind of result.

Only God.

And that is why I love Him. That is why I worship Him. That is why He is the great "I Am."

Would you mind joining me tonight in a little celebration? The first part of Psalm 139 says exactly what I am thinking ... feeling ... swimming in. It will be the last thing I read tonight before the bedside light gets clicked off. Care to do the same? Here it is...

1 O Lord, you have searched me and known me!
2 You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from afar.
3 You search out my path and my lying down
and are acquainted with all my ways.
4 Even before a word is on my tongue,
behold, O Lord, you know it altogether.
5 You hem me in, behind and before,
and lay your hand upon me.
6 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me;
it is high; I cannot attain it.
7 Where shall I go from your Spirit?
Or where shall I flee from your presence?
8 If I ascend to heaven, you are there!
If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!
9 If I take the wings of the morning
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
10 even there your hand shall lead me,
and your right hand shall hold me.
11 If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,
and the light about me be night,”
12 even the darkness is not dark to you;
the night is bright as the day,
for darkness is as light with you.
13 For you formed my inward parts;
you knitted me together in my mother’s womb.
14 I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
my soul knows it very well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
16 Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there were none of them.
17 How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!
18 If I would count them, they are more than the sand.
I awake, and I am still with you.

It's Taylor Time!

Just a short note tonight...

Remember the story of Taylor? Well, our little friend will be entering the hospital in Chicago this Wednesday, May 23 for EXTENSIVE testing, treatment, and even surgery. Please remember to be praying for her as she fights this life and death battle against Leukemia. I believe she will be hospitalized for about 10 days.

She says "THANK YOU!

Dear God ...

Hello God,

I thought I would start my email by saying "TGIF" but that seems a little redundant. So I decided to go with "TYIF." You already know this but that means "Thank YOU it's Friday." I was just wondering. Did you make Friday? I mean, I know you made seven days but did you decide that one of them would be "Friday" or did you maybe just number them until we came along and stuck names on them? It doesn't really matter. LIke I said,I was just wondering.

So, I hope everything is going well in heaven. Since mom and dad arrived I figure things could have gotten a little dicey. You might try putting them in seperate rooms. Seperate neighborhoods if necessary. Seperate galaxies might be good. And no matter what mom says I strongly suggest you do NOT let her cook.

Hey, thank you for the sunshine. It has been really nice lately. Ever since you blew my trees down in those three storms last summer and winter I have had a lot less squirrel problems. I'm not sure I thanked you for that. So thanks. By the way, I got the roof fixed so please don't feel badly about it. That branch almost missed the house entirely. It could happen to anybody. Besides, it only went through the shingles and the wood. Nothing actually got into the house. So it's all good. Oh, and I didn't have to rake at all last fall. Those extra added bonuses really add up!

Debbie is having a good spring! She really has not had that much asthma to deal with. I really appreciate that. They tell me it is a by-product of the good weather but you and I know the truth. It's all You. Thanks 'cause breathing is important!

Let's see. Scott's got a job and that is good. It did make him move away but he seems to be happy there. He's doing what you had me doing and he's probably doing it better. (Chris)Topher is heading back to camp at Centrifuge next Wednesday and I'd really appreciate it if you would get him there safely. Those big trucks scare me. I know you are bigger than they are though. Hey, God, would you mind talking to him for me while he's at camp? He's a great guy and I know he loves you. He just seems to have some unanswered questions ... issues maybe ... that he's dealing with. Hey, don't we all? It eould be really cool though if you would show up in some special ways just for him. You know, big blaring horns and blinding lights might be cool. Whatever it takes. Just remind him about how much you love him. Ok, I shouldn't be telling You what You need to do. I mean, what do I know? It was just a thought. Kelli, Joe and Elle seem to be doing really well too. I know Kelli gets lonely when Joe is touring with the band but you seem to have given her some great friends. Kudo's for that! So anyway just want to give you a "nice job, God!" for all you are doing in their lives. They are "people changers."

Ok, I know I bug you about this ever spring and you always say, "no, no." And it's ok if you have to say "no" again. But if I could just mention it one more them. The Cubs. It's been a really, REALLY long time. You think you could? Just this once? Whatever you think is fine. I'll be ok either way. That Cardinal thing last fall was pretty tough to swallow though. A little over the top on that one maybe? Ok, I don't want to tell you how to run your world. Sorry.

No whammy's, no whammy's.

Well, I think that's about all I need. Except thanks for Debbie. It is her birthday today. Boy, I'm glad you gave her to me. Thanks! Without her I'd be like ... in debt, lost, confused and unemployed.

Wait. I am unemployed.

Oh well. We can talk about that on Monday if you want.

Hey, God. One more thing. Thanks for never being too busy for me. Thanks for understanding that my brain works a little different from most. Thanks for "getting" me. And for not getting mad when I slip into that "no-monologue-inappropriate-mode." I promise (and you already know) that I really never mean to. It just ... happens. You are really great, God. I know I deserve like a gazillion "time-outs" or detentions. Actually I deserve a whole lot worse than that. But you just keep loving me. That's pretty amazing, God. I mean, really. I don't know why you do that. I wouldn't love me if I were You. And the Cubs definately would have won the World Series for the last ten years in a row. Both of those things would probably have thrown the entire balance of nature out of control. Kind of like ten thousand volcano's all blowing up at once. Only a lot worse. But you just keep on doing things right and with compassion to boot. That's like ... like your trademark to me. "If it's good then God's behind it" I keep saying to myself.

I think I'm rambling again. Sorry, God. It's just that I know you are my safe place. I like being here. With You. So I talk just to keep your attention. That probably isn't necessary. I'm just trying to cover all the bases.

God. I love you. Have a great weekend.
Ron

At least I didn't blow up

I decided to stop taking crap from my motorcycle. So today I drug it out of its secure location and propped it up in the garage. I am a human being. It is a piece of machinery. And darn it, I'm smarter than it is. I encircled it with wrenches, screwdrivers, and sockets so that it could not escape. I tore the entire e-stinken thing apart to get to that pesky leaking carburetor one more time. And when I got there I cleaned the living daylights out of it. Then I began putting it back together.

I dropped a screw. As screws go this was a rather important one. It is one of four that hold the carburetor together. Gotta have it. Unfortunately it fell somewhere down into the guts of the machine and hid among things that, as far as I know, have no name. This was not acceptable. I pulled the bike to the right, almost laying it on its side. The screw didn't slide out of its snare onto the floor. I pulled the bike to the left. Nothing.



There was only one thing to do. I removed another screw that does the same thing that the missing screw does. Then I climbed into my very hot (and still running) Mustang for a quick run to an auto parts store and a replacement screw. As I backed out of the driveway I heard a crunch but thought little of it. Probably just one of those sweet gum balls that fall out of my tree every 3.6 seconds. I went and bought my screw. It cost me forty-six cents, tax included. When I got back home I found a very expensive and very smashed screwdriver in my driveway. My crunch was not a sweet gum ball. It was a ratchet screwdriver. It sells for something around thirty dollars.

And I destroyed it for a forty-six cent screw.

I spit on it and let it lie there and suffer.

In about half an hour the bike was done, reassembled and ready for its test run. And guess what!

It leaks worse than ever.

And I don't have a ratchet screwdriver anymore. And I hate my motorcycle. And I hate tools. And I hate my high school shop teacher who is probably dead by now anyway. This is all his fault.

I'm going to sit my fat butt on my mega-chair and watch cartoons and remember the days when tools were foreign objects to me. Like ... today.

The best parts of life always seem to end with a truck

This is what it looks like. I always wondered. My oldest son is one of my best friends. I am really blessed that way. My youngest son is one of my best friends too. So is my daughter. But my oldest son is the one that moved away yesterday. Well, actually he moved away eleven months ago when he became a volunteer intern at Willow Creek Community Church near Chicago. The key word in that sentence is "volunteer." Because volunteers eventually come home. Everybody has to earn a living and so you can only donate your time for so long.

But what happens if you do such a good job donating your time that they decide they want you to stay and they decide to pay you to do so? Well. Then you see a truck drive away from your house much like the one in the picture above.

You know, I raised him for this. Same thing with his siblings. This was the purpose. There is a picture hanging in my hallway that has been stationed by my kids bedroom doors for over two decades. It portrays a dad, freshly home from work and still sporting his button down shirt and loosened tie. He is kneeling beside his childs bed and he is praying. I am that dad. I have done that more times than I can count. The tie does not apply though because most of my bedside praying took place during the middle of the night. I would wake up and do the dad thing ... making the rounds of the house, assuring that all is well. And then I would creep into three bedrooms and pray over the little bodies in the beds.

It worked. They all turned out great. No complaints. Their ages range from twenty-six to twenty-two. The fresh "mover" is twenty-four. It was time for him to go. He is taking a bride in July. As a pastor I get to perform the ceremony. That'll be an honor ... a hard one but an honor.

So tonight I was home alone and I walked into the freshly emptied room. A few odds and ends (things that didn't make the cut) still remain on his floor and in his closet. I looked them over. They have him all over them. Nothing in there is just "stuff." It's all things that he loved once upon a time. But I found something else in his room. It was a perfect portrayal of the way I feel tonight. I found our family dog, Bailey the Killer Beagle, all curled up on the floor ... right where his bed used to be. That is where Bailey would often sleep during the day when Scott was away at Willow. And today when she went in there ... his stuff was gone. She did the only thing she knew to do. She curled up where she has curled up so many times before and she tried her best to feel at home there. I can't help but wonder what she was dreaming.

Please do not misunderstand. I am so very glad it has all worked out this way. He is off serving God in the place where he was "called" to serve. And that is where I want him. Still, it does not make that room any less empty. Bailey? She only knows he is gone. The rest of us know where and why. And it makes all of the difference in the world.



So if you are out there reading this, son, know that your dad is glad you are right where you are. The empty bedroom will be filled with other things soon enough. But I will never forget the times I knelt quietly beside your bed and asked God to do in you exactly what He has done. I didn't realize then that it would leave an empty hole in my heart. But I look at it this way. We have eternity to spend together. So I guess I can accept and even find joy in the fact that you are off in the world serving King Jesus for a few decades. Expect to have some great days. Expect to get beat up a few times too. I know that you understand exactly what I mean. But never forget ... NEVER ... that those prayers are constantly being heard by your Father that is bigger than I. They ring in His ears. They echo in His heart. And He promises to complete in you the work He has begun.

Bailey? She will be fine. So will your mom and dad. Topher will be off soon to Centrifuge. Kelli has made a wonderful life for herself, her husband, and her baby girl. On top of that she serves on staff at another great church. Your mom and I went "three for three" when it comes to our kids. What more could we ask for? All of you leave holes when you are gone that no person or no thing can fill. Ever. But I would not have it any other way.

I love you. I am proud of you. The three of you validate the time I have spent on this planet. If it ends tomorrow ... it was well worth it. The title of this blog? "I wasted time and now doth time waste me?" It is a lie. William Shakespeare said it and it fit well in his play. But for me? No time has been wasted. Not one minute.

You are proof of that.

Praying for Taylor

God has organized life in such a way that I once again find myself in touch with a child that has leukemia. I have never actually had the pleasure of meeting Taylor. She is only nine years old and is in third grade. She lives in northern Illinois. It seems that Taylor's schoolteacher is a friend of a friend. The friend on my end (Marcie) e-mailed me Taylor's story. I then told her of my friendship with a teenage girl in my last youth group that fought ... and defeated ... leukemia. Well, that e-mail found its way to Taylor's mom. She, in turn, e-mailed me tonight. Her letter ripped my heart out. Would you like to know why? Read this...

"I read your email and I cried so hard because I feel so lost, and so scared, and so afraid. Yet I stay so strong in front of Taylor. This is a 9-year-old girl who loves God, and people, so much. The most unselfish little girl I have ever met in my entire life. The same little girl who sat at Children's Memorial yesterday and told me she's beginning to wonder about God!!!!!I never thought I would hear that from her ever. I told her it's ok to question God, and wonder why...She started losing all of her hair yesterday and fought the tears so nobody could see her cry. I have been through so much in my life, and nothing can compare or come close to this watching your kid suffer, and there is nothing you can do about it but feel helpless, feel doubtful, feel weak. I'm lost I will be honest, I have prayed my heart out, I have cried, I have felt every emotion you could feel, and now all I have to hold on to is still faith, prayers, and strength. Please continue to pray for Taylor as we start our second round of 10 day in patient chemo some time next week. We will be at Children's Memorial about four months out of the next six months."

See what I mean? I called Taylor's mom after reading her e-mail. She was cautious at first because she had no idea who she was talking to. As I explained that I was the guy she had e-mailed she relaxed a bit. We talked and prayed and spent some time just wondering about it all. I had to tell her the truth ... there are no guarantees. God promises to love us and to be present in and through our pain. He does not promise to heal us in this world. But I am praying that He does decide to in Taylor's case. Nine years old and already she has engaged in a battle fiercer than all of the battles I have fought combined. Nine years old and wondering if she will ever see ten. Nine years old and she lost enough hair this week to fill a bathroom trashcan. Nine years old and her trademark pigtails are lying with the used Kleenex and q-tips.

I do not understand. I promised Taylor's mom that I would call her again tomorrow. And I vowed to pray for Taylor often. I am going to be in her area soon and I am wondering if it would be right for me to meet her. I cannot fix this little girl. But I do know something about loving kids. And for some reason when they hurt ... it makes me want to connect with them and share that hurt.

Would you do me a favor? Would you pray for Taylor too? She is a real person. And tonight she is trying to sleep through the pain and confusion. She is trying to sort out the whole "God vs. Leukemia" thing.

And she is only nine years old.

(If you would like to leave a word of encouragement or prayer for Taylor or her mom I promise to send them on to her. Please do...)

Fourteen things I have tried so hard to understand but have yet to figure out ...

A SIGN FULL OF TRUTH FOUND AT THE ST LOUIS ZOO


(Once again we approach the unapproachable. I finally realized that for the first time in my life nobody can fire me. And so I decided to just put things out there. Here is what is on my mind. You can like it or you can hate it but at least I am thinking and my brain has not *yet* turned to mush. Tonight you get "a bakers dozen" plus three.)

1. Why is it that we cheer for one church over another when that is like cheering for a teams left fielder over their short stop?
2. Why is it that the most gifted people seem to lose interest in their gifts more quickly than less gifted people?
3. Why is it that the more you say "God, do what it takes to make me the man you want me to be" the more difficult He makes life?
4. Why is it that God is our "Abba Father" and yet sometimes He decides not to speak to us for a while?
5. Why is it that people get mad at you when you tell them that God does speak today and not only through the bible?
6. Why is it that my spirit craves God's voice and then when He speaks everything inside of me insists that it was a coincidence?
7. Why is it that churches say they want to grow and then throw away God's biblical methods in favor of denominational programs?
8. Why is it that spiritual gifts are treated in the church as an optional luxury when God gave them to point you to your life's job description?
9. Why is it that in practicality gifts mean less than being personally connected and yet in reality being personally connected is ultimately doomed to failure without gifts?
10. Why is it that leaders hesitate to turn over responsibility for areas they are not gifted in to people who are gifted in them?
11. Why is it that churches expect their pastor's to have all of the spiritual gifts and act like he is being lazy when he does not?
12.Why is it that the more spiritually ignorant a person is the louder he speaks and the louder he speaks the more people listen?
13. Why is it that even when I am deeply angry with people I cannot help loving them when I see them?
14. Why is it that I can forgive and forget your wrong doings but I keep rehashing my own and drag them up every opportunity I get?
15. Why is it that I am unemployed and yet I have to go to work in the morning?

Ten Things I Have Learned About Churches In The Last Twelve Months (and two bonus observations)

(Warning: Gross generalizations ahead. Read with extreme caution. Disagreement with any or all points only means that I am probably wrong. I can live with that.)

1. Steeples and "The Tower of Babel" have more in common than I ever dreamed.
2. Despite their disclaimers the vast majority of churches are the most competitive "industry" in town. Often the only non-jealous church in town is the largest church in town and that is only because they have no one to be jealous of.
3. Roughly 90% of the people in a typical church will love you to death if you will let them.
4. Roughly 10% of the people in a typical church will put you to death by means other than love.
5. The majority of the people in a typical church have absolutely no idea how a church runs or who does the running.
6. If you want to get loved on at church find a good small group. That is where it all starts.
7. The majority of the people in a typical church do not attend a good small group and thus are missing out on where the love happens.
8. Almost all churches with changeable signs advertise the next sermon title or a cute slogan when the only thing that will truly cause godly transformation in a heart is the Word of God. I do not know of one church that consistently puts scripture on their sign.
9. The most evangelistic ministry in a church is the youth ministry. The most under funded ministry in a church is the youth ministry. The most griped at / complained about ministry in a church is the youth ministry. Do you see a problem here or is it just me?
10. Jesus loves the church anyway and He does it without reservation or hesitation. Therefore I have to love her like that too. Even when she makes it difficult.
11. A church that doesn't burst into celebration every time a person is baptized simply does not understand what they just witnessed.
12. Show me a truly wise and godly man or woman in a church and I will show you a man or a woman who does not realize that they are particularly wise and godly.

Hug me and shut up

Today I learned a lesson and I want to tell you about it. It is a lesson I have learned many times before and yet I keep forgetting it. First the story. Then the lesson.

I have not been riding my motorcycle much this spring. There is a very good reason for that. It leaks gasoline. Yes, gas is expensive and I don't like to drip it along the highway as I do my "easy rider" thing. But that is not my greater concern. You see I have this thing about blowing up. The carburetor is dirty or something and so it leaks fuel from the over flow hose. The bike really does not care if it is turned on or turned off. It leaks unless you shut the valve, which kills fuel to the engine. I do not have a difficult time imagining this leaking petroleum dripping on the ultra-hot exhaust and sending me to an early meeting with Jesus.

I did not get called to teach today and so I decided to fix this little problem. I watched a friend do it last year and it did not look too terribly difficult. I took my digital camera outside and took pictures as I disassembled the bike step by step. I removed the back seat. I removed the front seat. I was so proud. Tools were e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e! I removed the gas tank and drained it in a very legal and responsible manner.

Now it was serious carb repair time. I took pictures of every hose and where it was connected. Every screw and where it came out. I took twenty-seven pictures. That way, if I got lost while reassembling the bike the pictures would show me where everything goes.



You have to admit, that was pretty brilliant.



When I got the carburetor off I cleaned it with the finest cleaner and a very stiff toothbrush. I cleaned and I cleaned and I cleaned! I smelled like a real mechanic! People who drove down my street looked at me and I know what they were thinking. They were thinking, "Look at that talented guy working on his motorcycle. Boy, I wish I was like him." When I was finished I had the cleanest carb on the block, nay, the town. Maybe all of Illinois!

And then I reassembled the bike. First the tedious job of putting the fuel stuff back together and reattaching it to the frame. The gas tank. The front seat and the rear seat were next.

TA-DA!

I put fresh gasoline in the tank. I climbed on the bike. I turned the key, revved the throttle and listened in amazement as the engine roared to life. I did it!

I climbed off the bike. She purred like a kitten with a fresh saucer of milk. I backed up to admire my job from a distance. That is when I noticed the gasoline flowing ... not dripping like it was before I "fixed" it ... flowing out of the overflow tubing and onto my driveway.

I killed the ignition. I put my tools away. I hosed off my driveway. I pushed my bike as far to the back of my property as I could get it and left it to sit there and just think about what it had done for a while.

It is still there. It can rust there for all I care.

Well, that is the story. Here is the lesson.

I have no business getting into small (or large) engine repair. I know NOTHING about engines. In high school I took "shop" and had to tear down and rebuild a lawn mower engine. We had a shortage of engines and so we did it with a partner. Your grade was based on how well the engine ran when you were done. I was sick the last day of class ... the day my partner finished our project. Seems he had some left over bolts and so he did what any good mechanic would do. He put them in the cylinder. Yes, the cylinder. The next day school was over and grades were sent out. We got a "B." I've often wondered what happened when the teacher started that lawn mower engine. I hope he's ok. He was not a good-looking guy and a bolt buried between his eyebrows would not do much to improve him. I have worse horror stories about my efforts at REAL engine repair ... like on our big blue van. This weird thing that I had never heard of (a "harmonic" something-or-other) fell off of it at my mother-in-law's house. Boom. It just fell off. Not good. She lives in Milwaukee and we don't. I needed to get home. This thing that I can't remember the name of holds the big belt in place that makes the things on the engine work which, in turn, makes the wheels go round and round. And it just fell out on her driveway as we were leaving for our four hundred mile drive home. I did what any good dad/husband/mechanic would do. I went to the hardware store with one of the bolts and asked for six more. Then I climbed under the van, held that piece in place and bolted it back on. Then we drove home with absolutely no problems whatsoever. The next day a friend who really does understand things like engines checked it out for me. I remember him screaming when he slid under the van. It seems that the old bolts had simply broken off inside their little holes. So when I screwed the new bolts in they only went about three threads deep and then were stopped by the old broken and buried pieces. I drove four hundred miles with my family like that. My friend told me that this was impossible and that only angels held those new bolts in and got us home safely.

Hey, if I have to choose between my mechanical abilities and the help of the Heavenly Host ... I'm going with the angels every time.

To repeat, engine repair is not my thing. I am not only bad at it ... I am dangerous. Wickedly dangerous. You know what I do? I do people. The local quick mart/gas station calls me their chaplain. Hmmm. I'll bet I'm the only one of those in the world. I like to talk to people. Anybody will do. My family hates me for that. So do the people behind me in the fast food drive through. Their burgers are chillen while I'm making friends with the dude or dudette taking my cash.

Again, I'm good with this. You know why? Because life is about relationships. Did you get that? It's important so write it down. "Life is about RELATIONSHIPS." Life is not about engine repair (though I thank God for those who can do this incredible feat and my hat is off to them!) But I suspect that God is never going to ask me how many engines I repaired. No, He will probably ask me how I treated people. Not only that but when one of my engines die I just get a new one. Sure I spit and cuss first. But eventually I give in and replace it. It's a thing. Life is not about things. It's about people. Relationships.

So here's what I want to leave you with tonight. How are your relationships? No, not with the guy at the fast food counter or the bank teller. That's important but I'm talking about your relationships with the people in your life that matter to you. Your family. Your friends. The one's you call when you need stabilizing. The one's you hang out with when you get to choose. Are you loving on them? Are you letting them know just how valuable they are to you? Or are you damaging those relationships with your less than perfect patience or your irritability at the end of a long day at work? Life has cost me a lot of friends over the past few years. You know what? I still love 'em. I can't help it. I do not see them anymore but I love them. I lost some friends over decisions that mattered. Important things. But not things that should destroy friendships. Not things that should damage ... much less end ... relationships. Because they are what life is about.

And life is short. And precious. And not to be taken for granted or trifled with. I can go the rest of my life without riding a motorcycle again. But without you ... I can't make it. So you be patient with me when I'm annoying and I'll be patient with you when you are annoying (oh yes you are) and we'll be fine.

Now hug me and shut up.

Death From Above!

I tell ya, we coulda DIED! And all for the love of biscuits and gravy. (mmmmmmm!) One of my favorite "you're-dead-if-you-eat-too-many-of-these-meals" is found "down on the farm." Yup. Bob Evans biscuits and gravy. I eat this meal fully aware of the risks. Heart disease. Coronary artery disease. Choking on the huge chunks of sausage floating in the oh so lovely white gravy. It could happen. Probably will someday.

But never in a garzillion years would I have guessed that my insatiable craving for this southern delicacy could cause the demise of my wife and I like ... death from above. I am so naive.

I had downed my last biscuit. Sucked the last of the gravy from the bowl with a straw. Made friends and actually shared my faith in Jesus Christ with the husband of the couple sitting across the aisle from us. (Hey, if I'm going out I'm going to be on extraordinary terms with God when it happens.) We had watched the rain falling as we sat at our window-side seat. It had subsided when we paid the check and left the parking lot in "Emma" the Mustang. A couple of quick turns got us northbound on I-255. It is a short fifteen miles or so between the restaurant and our home. About half way through our trip we came across two Illinois State Police cars in the median strip with a wrecked black Mustang between them.

Odd. The road was dry. No other vehicles were even nearby. Why did this guy drive off into the ditch?

Within the next two or three miles we counted over twenty cars, trucks, and even a motor home stopped along the side of the expressway in both directions. A helicopter flew directly overhead. Other traffic flowed along with us, their drivers probably wondering what we were wondering. "What the ....????" We looked in every direction and saw nothing. It was cloudy. Ugly cloudy. Steam was rising from the refinery in Wood River but that's not exactly a traffic stopper. It occurred to me that the only time I had ever seen cars stopped randomly like this was years earlier when I was bringing a youth group home from a mission trip in Marshfield, Wisconsin. We drove through a really bad rainstorm. As we emerged from the other side there were cars on the entrance ramps and alongside the expressway. Many of them had cameras out taking pictures of the storm we had just driven through. I started playing with the electric mirrors outside the van and spotted a tornado tearing through the fields behind us. I quickly radioed my drivers in the other vans and they watched it with me. Most of the teens were asleep and never knew of their near brush with flying cows or houses heading off to Kansas. But today we looked and didn't see anything.

So, we made a few stops on the way home. When we got there I walked into the living room and picked up Tess the laptop to check my email. I clicked on a bookmark for KSDK, one of the television stations in St. Louis and, well, here is what I saw ...



As it turns out there were three tornadoes. One was in front of us. One was behind us. One was to the right of us. Nobody got hurt. Only farmers fields got torn up. Debbie and I both looked in every direction. Neither of us saw anything. Nuttin. The whole county was taking pictures. "News Chopper 5" was flying over us (in between the storm cells) and showing the twisters live on St. Louis television. And we ... we were oblivious.



Ok, so. Lessons learned.

1. God is good. Everybody was safe.
2. Debbie and I are effectively blind when it comes to seeing objects of imminent danger to our mortal bodies.
3. People in black Mustangs are obviously bigger weenies than other drivers who somehow managed not to wet themselves or drive off the road when surrounded by tornadoes.
4. If the biscuits and gravy don't kill you ... the trip to get them might.

I is smarter than I new I was

Teaching in the public school system is something I never ever thought I would do. Come to think of it, teaching in the public school system is something I never ever WANTED to do. School gives me a rash. I break out in bad grades. But, being the mercenary that I am, I am giving it a spin. Poor me. Poor kids. I am not sure whom I feel the most sorry for.

When I was a mere lad myself I was quite the student. Well, actually my grades stunk. I was one of those kids who consistently did not "live up to his potential." I would like to tell you that, like Albert Einstein, I was just bored with my classes because I was too smart to be bothered with the trivial lessons the were throwing at me. But nope. I was just lazy and relatively stupid. Some things never change, huh? On the plus side I never got a "pink slip" (Lincoln-Way High Schools way of saying you are late for class,) a "green sheet" (Lincoln-Way's dreaded detention,) or anything even close to suspension. Room 109 was the detention room and I never even saw the inside of it. Rumor has it there were chains on the walls and big bald guards with whips in each corner. My brother told me so.

You know what I am learning when I teach these days? EVERYTHING. Seriously. I am. On Monday I taught art. ART! Do you realize what that does to my comfort zone? It violates it in every possible fashion! I can barely draw a breath much less a picture. But my assignment was to teach the kids about "pointillism." You don't know what that is, do you? Well, neither did I. So I picked up the teachers book and found out that it is a style of painting in which small distinct points of primary colors create the impression of a wide selection of secondary colors. Wanna see a picture? Ok!

That is a little number from Seurat's "La Parade" done in 1889. See? Stick with me and you will learn things.

Last week I was teaching 5th grade math. Man, I am almost too embarrassed to tell you this. I gave the kids a work sheet and they started raising their hands to ask for help with problems. Uh-oh. But I sat down with them and you know what? I FIGURED IT OUT! I did it! I actually understand 5th grade math!!!! This is so ginormous that it makes my head hurt. The same thing happened later in the day when I taught English. Did you know that an "adverb" is a word or a phrase that modifies or qualifies an adjective, verb, or other adverb? I should probably have known that. And I probably did once upon a time. I use adverbs every day without even realizing it. Come to think of it, now that I know I'm using them it probably won't change a thing. Still, it's kind of cool.

I've taught language arts, computer science, physical education, math, English, reading, and science. And I've learned something in every class. Amazingly enough, my favorite class is still recess. I hope that you will treat me with a new found respect and reverence the next time you see me. No need to bow. We can keep this on the down-low. Just between you and me. I don't need the blowing trumpets or the billowing banners. But if I should correct something you say ... don't argue with me. I know these things. And I would hate to make you stay after class.

Wanted: Busted up and broken believers ... apply through prayer

The first time I bought my own used car I wrecked it on night one. That is correct. Yes, I collaborated with my dad (he paid for the car and I paid him back.) We lived in Tinley Park, Illinois on beautiful 177th St. The car was a 1970 Ford Galaxy. It was a lovely turd brown. It was an ugly Monday night and I got in it to go to the store and then drive to a youth group bible study at my church. That's right. My first trip in my first personally owned car was to church. And I wrecked the car before I could even get there. It was raining and I was not used to the brakes so when a pick-up truck stopped in front of me I slid into his tailgate. It cost my dad $200 to buy him a new one. Me? I was left to pay monthly payments for several years on a car that I never got fixed because my insurance deductable was too high. And do you know what the worst part was? The accident slid the left front quarter panel (the sheet metal part in front of the drivers door that goes all the way to the front of the car) backward about half an inch. That was just enough to make the door and the quarter panel overlap so that everytime I would open my door it sounded as if a shot gun was going off. Everytime I opened the door to get in or out ... I remembered the accident. The mistake. The wreck. I never escaped it until I finally sold the car several years later to a police woman. (Two weeks later the transmission fell out. I drove very carefully when she was on duty.)

Busted stuff has a way of teaching important but painful lessons. I have come to believe that it is supposed to be that way.

It has come to my attention that God gets great delight in allowing that same lesson to be learned by His children. This is going to sound crazy but trust me, it is true. God loves to use busted up and broken people. Actually, He seems to be able to use them much more effectively than He can use trophy Christians who give shining testimonies before large audiences that listen in wonderous awe. I don't have anything against Christian athletes or Christian movie stars or Christian singers or any Christian that has had their years easy and never gotten knocked around by life for insisting on turning the light on in the darkness. I just think they have a handicap. They are all spiffy and shiny. Trophy Christian's are my brothers and sisters. They are (in theory) squeaky clean and great examples of what God can do through a yielded soul. There is just one problem.

I do not trust them.

When the heat gets turned up they just may turn back on you and double cross you. They may shoot at you and say that they are doing it "in Jesus name." You know what I say to that? I'll water my terminology down for family consumption. I say poppycock. Believers in Jesus Christ do not shoot at believers in Jesus Christ. Ever. E-V-E-R. They take the bullet themselves. Who was it that said, "Greater love has no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends." Answer? Jesus. The Son of God said that. So let me just tell you a little secret. If you have drawn a target on a brother or sister in Christ ... shame on you. I do not give a rip what your reasons are. Your are wrong, wrong, wrong. Children of God do what Jesus did. They take the hit themselves and they do not complain about it.

Give me a busted up and broken believer anyday. One who has walked the miles and has the blisters on his feet to prove it. One who has been attacked by the world, ambushed by his "friends," whooped-up on by Satan and come out the other side bloodied, broken and bruised with the scars that tell stories of the battles fought. These are the believers you can count on. They know the sound of the enemies drum beat. They have seen the pointed end of his fiery darts blazing in their direction. They are my sisters and my brothers that have stood in the face of the heat without melting. They are my sisters and my brothers who have invaded the enemy camp in the dead of night just when the enemy was about to claim victory. And when they got to the camp ... they danced. Oh, they danced in pain but the most assuredly did dance. It was a victory dance. And the enemy looked foolish. Because, you see, you cannot stop a busted up and broken believer. He has laid it all on the line before and he is willing to do it again. He has already learned to consider himself "dead" to the goodies of the world. And you just cannot kill a dead man.

It is always nice to have trophy Christian's around. They make great diversions. They give the world and the enemy some body to admire while the scarred warriors slip around their flank and share the good news of freedom behind enemy lines. It is the busted up and broken believers that do damage for (and not TO) the family of God. When God wants to run a major play He doesn't call on the trophies. He calls on the warriors. The trophy Christians get out the book ... no, not "THAT" book ... the book of tradition. It's called the "Programs and Policies To Win The World To Christ" book. "THAT" book ... the bible ... is theory to them. If you take it too literally you will mess up your corporate policy. Your church IS incorporated, isn't it? Good luck winning the world with a corporation strategy. It ain't happening.

So shut up and put your dog tags on. Get in the battle or go polish your trophy stand, crawl up on it and wait for the applause that will surely come. As for me and my house ... get the bandages and first aid kits ready. I'm watching my kids and I'm watching my wife and they are living behind enemy lines. King Jesus has issued some of us orders. It is official that Scott is a permanent "on staff" fixture at Willow Creek now. (He may hang me for writing that here. But dad's have a right to be proud of their kids and I am. Not so much because of where he's serving but simply because he is serving.) Christopher leaves in less than a month for another long and hot summer on staff at Centrifuge. (He is my Mega-Relay hero. And I have reason to believe that kids will get saved through his leadership this summer. His dad ... me ... always dreamed of working at 'Fuge and he is doing it.) Kelli and Joe are both still on the front lines of serving in West County at a large, Christ honoring church. They amaze me with their passion!) I cannot wait to see all of them fight the good fight. All three of my kids are living out my dreams ... doing great damage to the enemies efforts on planet earth. And while that only leaves two of us we will be back in the game soon. Got a few cuts and bruises that are still healing. But it won't be long. I hear the drumbeat in the enemy camp. My blood begins to stir. And I can't wait ... as John Wesley said, "Some people want to live within the sound of chapel bells, but I want to run a mission a yard from the gates of hell."

Been there before. It's familiar territory. Getting ready to go again. You have not fully served until you have gotten close enough to the gates to smell the sulfar ...

"God" is not short for "Google"

Fully half of the kids had their hands up. Some were waving them wildly, hoping to get my attention so that I would call on them. I was teaching a 5th grade math class this afternoon. I was very glad to see those hands go up when I asked for the answer to "number three" because, well, I don't do math. Oh, I had the answer. It was written in red in my teachers book. But I had no idea how to GET the answer. And I had a plethora of students anxious to explain to the others why the answer WAS the answer.

You see, there is a difference between HAVING the answer and knowing how to GET the answer. Sometimes you have the answer but you don't know how you got it. Other times you know how (or where) to get the answer but you don't know what the answer is.

Case in point.

I was driving home from the mall tonight. Actually I was in the front passanger seat. Debbie was driving because we left home before sundown and I had taken my prescription sun glasses with me and had forgotten my regular glasses. I don't drive without being able to see. It just seems like a good policy to me. So tonight I was the passanger.

The top was down on the car. It was a beautiful evening. The sky was clear. The temps were warm. I reclined in my seat because Debbie was on the phone with her mother and I was not engaged in a conversation. I just looked up at the sky. Somewhere up there ... is God's house. I don't know where. But it's there.

I've been wanting to ask God some questions lately. Some personal things that I do not understand have begun to bother me. it is not important to this story for you to understand what those questions are. All that matters is that I have questions and He has answers and I am wondering if He would share them with me.

That is when I remembered today's math class. Sometimes hands would go up when a student wanted to give the answer to a problem. Occasionally a hand would go up when a student had a question that he needed an answer to. I always call on the students with the questions. That is my job. Answer their questions and, in so doing, teach them.

Hmmm.

I raised my hand. I felt the wind press against my cupped palm but I held it there as I stared off into the distant heavens. I whispered, "Excuse me, Sir. I have some questions and I was wondering if you would mind if I asked them." Silence. "And would you be willing to answer my questions?" Silence.

That is when the bug smashed into the palm of my hand and died there. It hurt and I jerked my hand down. I brushed the bug off and glanced back toward the sky. I kept my hand in my lap.

"Ok. Maybe later. Thanks anyway."

God speaks when He wants to speak. God says what He wants to say. He is not a cosmic form of "Google" where you punch in your question and the answer comes racing to your screen. He is God. Oh yes, He certainly does love me. He loves you too. But life is lived on His terms. Never on our own.

Yes, I rather wish He had been willing to answer my questions tonight. But it could have been much worse.

Just ask the bug.

All in all...

All in all I thought that went pretty well. Didn't you? There were a couple of grammatical errors but it was certainly understandable.

Ron .... OUT

This ... is a test ...

This is a test of the "I wasted time and now doth time waste me" blog network.

It is 8:48 AM. Traditionally my brain does not function before 11ish. Substitute teaching has forced me to begin my thought processes as early as 5:30 AM. A-w-k-w-a-r-d. However, since I have a little time before leaving for today's assignment I thought I would run a test blog to see if I am now capable of not only rational thinking but creative thinking in the morning. And so I am going to tell you the story of my run-in on Metro-Link yesterday. I will read this test blog when I return home this afternoon to determine the success or failure of this test.

I am now shifting from "rational thinking" to "creative thinking." Here goes ...

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(This has been a test of the "I wasted time and now doth time waste me" blog network. Had this been an actual blog you would have been instructed in blog safety and proper use of bloggage. This is only a test!)