Facts That I've Noticed Lately

- I sleep less than 200 feet from death. It's not that I'm so brave. (Though I am EXTREMELY brave.) It's that Lake Erie's murky depths encroach on the shoreline of America right outside my bedroom. And I don't swim. At all. Therefore I sleep near death each and every night.

- I left town for 8 days and the top of my mustang (a convertible) started growing mold. MOLD! I swear the elements are against me!

- Debbie made a dinner tonight that would have made the chef at "Hell's Kitchen" weep with gratitude. And i was the recipient of this gift. I married good.

- Our little one bedroom apartment never gets dusty. Why, you ask? I don't know. Perhaps there is no dust in Ohio. Perhaps it was the kids all along that created dust and injected it into our world. I have lived here for 50 weeks and I have never dusted. Not once. Of course I can't find any of my stuff under that gray powdery stuff ... (joke) Seriously. No dust.

- I am two weeks from my first anniversary in Cleveland. And I am SO "high fiveing" myself ...

- If there were a "Daniel Dingeldien Fan Club" I would join it in a heartbeat. Danny ... if you read this ... thanks for being my friend. (Geez, I hope I spelled his name right...)

Colorado Re-Visited Pt. 1

I've put off writing about the big wedding in Colorado last week because, well, I wanted to see what everybody else said first. And honestly, there isn't much to say that they have not already said. So if you have read their blogs (see the tool bar on the right if you haven't but want to) you pretty much know the story.

Still ... here are a few memories that I made that they didn't mention or didn't share in ...

- It was cool to watch Elle react to so much of her family at one time.

- It was not cool to hear Elle fall out of bed at about 3AM. Twice.

- Realizing that Kelli has turned into ... me.

- Watching my macho sons, son-in-law, and brother-in-law descend a mountain in record time because they found what appeared to be an elk skeleton whose bones had been scattered by something bigger than it was.

- Darting through the "dancing fountain" in Beaver Creek Village. Oh yeah, and getting soaked.

- Buying Timberland sweats for $14.99. Sweet.

- Driving the Vail/Leadville/Copper Mountain loop with my bride. S-T-U-N-N-I-N-G! (And so were the mountains!)

- Grown-up conversation with Bob, Cindy, Doug, Karen, and Debbie. They let me sit in and listen.

- Biscuits and Gravy at the Arapahoe Cafe

- Watching Toph walk down the aisle with the biggest grin I've ever seen on the face of a human being.

- The "High 5" Toph and Bella shared right after the "You may kiss your bride" moment. Priceless!

- God rearranging our seating on the flight from Denver to St. Louis, placing me next to a hurting mom who needed a pastor to talk to.

- Amanda's new boots and how they actually DID match her jacket! (shock!)

- Spending an hour in a Catholic/Spanish cemetery reading tombstones and trying to figure out why Mother Mary was in a bath tub.

- Receiving a text message from Scott as he arrived back in Chicago that simply said, "Landing at Midway always requires a change of pants."

- Watching Alisha fake eating a donut.

- Arm wrestling the female teenage desk clerk in Castle Rock for the bill on the room. (She won. Strong kid.)

- Rosie's awesome condo.

What I Learned At The Cemetery Today

An Open Letter To My Son Christopher

This is where I want to say the things to you that you'd punch me for saying if we were face to face. (See ... you forced me to go public. It's all your fault.)

Topher, thanks. I suppose I've taught you a few things in your life. Relatively simple things that you would have learned on your own sooner or later. Things like tying your shoes. Zipping your coat. Not running with scissors. Throwing the smoke bomb before the fuse actually reached the little colored ball at the bottom. The usual things that help to get a kid to turn into an adult with the least possible difficulty. You, however, have taught me so much more.

You taught me how to laugh when I really wanted to scream. The "challenges" you presented as the ever growing toddler turned child turned adolescent turned young adult turned almost married man were things that never failed to remind me that life is to short to get bent out of shape by the trivial. I could not tell you this at the time, but almost always when I was having to correct your for one of your famous "Christopher-isms" I was dying laughing on the inside at your insane creativity. You were never the kind of kid to get busted for breaking the law or violating God's moral code in any major way. No, you were the kid who told his teacher to "put a sock in it" when she gave you a direction that you didn't like. And that is exactly what I would have done had I been you. As you know, I still had to ground your sorry self but that's because, being the dad, I couldn't let you get away with it. You were the kid that got himself Duck Taped to a stop sign to find out what drivers would do when the passed by. I'm sure you should have expected that first car to be a police car. But you didn't. True, he simply cut you loose and you were on your way. It probably never occurred to you that he might not have seen the humor in it. There was the infamous "Cat Incident." I won't go into detail here. Just picture the obligatory scowl you saw on my face when I had to call Officer Lindsey and know that behind it I was actually thinking, "Wow. This kid has potential. That was incredibly creative." How did you manage to always land on your feet? Most anybody else would have a long rap sheet by now but somehow, to this very day, when I see one of your old teachers or particular police officers they smile and ask how you are doing. And I know that deep inside each one of them knew, even when they were doing their duty, that you were not only going to "make it" but that you were going to shine.

And that is what you are doing. Today you take your bride. She is an amazing woman. She had better be. She has an amazing future ahead of her. I was there when you were born. I was there for every day of your growing up years. I am here today as you slide a ring onto her finger. I'll be around tomorrow and everyday until Jesus gives me permission to "come on home." I might live a few hundred miles away but all you would ever have to do is call and I would be on the road as soon as I can slip my shoes on and gas up the SUV. I know that you cannot imagine ever needing or wanting to do that. But somehow it's important to me that you know that. And now "Bella" is getting a ring-side seat to the life of Christopher. She already knows what she's in for. She's been around long enough to have figured it out. I do believe she is up to the task she is signing on for.

Indulge me one more second while I tell you, Christopher, that I love you. I won't go into detail. Just try to imagine how much you will love the little child that Bella lays in your arms someday. A product of your love for her and hers for you. Imagine how deep that love goes. Imagine how you would lay everything down for that child ... whether he is two hours old or two decades old. Try to understand how time will never change that love except to deepen it. And then you will have some idea of what you mean to this guy who feels so honored when you call him "dad."

Oh, and just another "last" thing. You know how sometimes when you are driving home from work you grab your cell phone and punch in my number and we talk while you drive? We talk about everything or nothing. And then as you pull in the parking lot you tell me you are there and you have to go. And then you say the simple words, "I love you, dad." Did you know that those moments ... those words ... are worth more than jewels to me? I cannot repay you for the thrills and joys you have brought me.

It is simply enough that you know.

Congratulations son. You chose a very worthy bride. I am proud of you. I love you. Always have. Always will.

Dad

Cleveland to Chicago to St. Louis to Denver ... and worth every mile

Today was a long and awesome day. It began with our friend, Brandy, taking us to the airport in Cleveland. That's where we found out that we were going to Chicago. I really need to start reading my flight itineraries when I'm going someplace. So we went from Cleveland to Chicago to St. Louis (where we changed planes and caught up with Christopher and Laura) to Denver. Denver is where we greeted Scott and Amanda, as well as grandpa and grandma Sandy. It is also where I decided that I only brought 2 checked bags on the trip instead of three. Yea, me. I totally forgot our "hanging bag" which holds all of our wedding clothes. And I didn't realize it until we checked into the hotel in Castle Rock. Way to go, Ron! After about an hours worth of phone calling I got someone at Southwest Airlines (they were INCREDIBLY helpful) who actually got the bag and put it in the office. Tomorrow the rest of our family flies in and will grab our bag and drag it up to the mountains for us. I love having people willing to bail me out! May their tribe increase!

It was just an awesome day. The fight attendants on the St. Louis to Denver leg of the trip "somehow" found out that Christopher and Laura were getting married. And so they demanded that everybody applaud them as they were presented with a special gift. "Official SWA House Slippers" for Laura. Made out of ... Maxi-Pads. This is too much for the male mind to comprehend so I'll just post a picture and leave it at that.

But by far the best part of the day was just hanging out with my amazing family. I love just listening to my grown kids (including my kids "in-law" which I insist on the right to just call them "my kids,") interact. It is food for my soul. Each one of them is insane is his or her own way. I laughed harder today than I have in a year.

After arm wrestling the teenager girl desk clerk for the hotel bill (I lost) my sons and I ended the day by spending about an hour in the hotel whirlpool just talking. Catching up. Honestly, it may turn out to be the best hour of the trip. If so, it was worth every dime. And tonight it occurs to me ... we closed on our house back in Illinois yesterday, and Saturday we "close" on our last child by gratefully watching as he commits himself with a full heart and without reservation to the woman of his dreams.

Does it get any better than this?

No way.

I hate baseball

See that picture? I saw it live on television as a 13 year old kid. I remember it. It is not the Cardinals. I don't care about them. It isn't the Mets. They don't matter. It isn't the individual Cub players. They are pawns in something bigger. I just do not know what that "something bigger" is. It is like God is mad at the Cubs. Too many quality guys have come and gone only to fold in October. To many weird things (hello, Steve Bartman) has happened. It's cosmic. I really believe it is cosmic.

At this moment, after watching total CARNAGE unfold on my television for several days, I cannot conceive of ever caring about baseball again. If the players do not care then why should I? I am perfectly capable of holding a bat on my shoulder while baseballs go whizzing by just like they did. (Hint: No "swingy swingy/no hitty hitty.) And you wouldn't even have to pay me millions of dollars for the privilege. Just buy me dinner. I'm a cheap date.

I have a personal rule. Being a pastor, and with Sunday being the most intense day of the week, I have made a covenant with myself to never make a major decision on a Monday. This rule has served me well.

This, being the day after the total implosion of "my" Cubs, is not a day for making decisions about my future as a baseball fan. If it were ...

Well, never mind. It just is not the day.

Today I hate baseball.

The best things about non-home-ownership

Today is the day that a new family was SUPPOSE to close on the house I've had on the market for a year. They are involved in some type of program that had the title companies so backed up that the realtor emailed me paperwork last night to sign and fax back allowing them to postpone the closing until Thursday. Since I didn't really have a choice I complied. So I still own my own home for 48 more hours. Then somebody will be mailing me a check that I'll be keeping far away from Wall Street.

Anyway, I've been thinking this thing over and, much to my surprise, there are many reasons one should be happy (did I say happy?) about not owning their own home. Here's the best reasonings I can come up with...

10 - Lawn mower? What's that?
9 - Wow! That was a whale of a storm that just passed through. Look at all of those branches on the ground. Somebody really should clean that up!
8 - When I pay rent, darn it, it goes for a place to live! Not a DIME goes to interest!
7 - Hey, look at that busted pipe. Bet that's going to make a mess.
6 - Whoa! The shower leaks! NOT MY PROBLEM!
5 - Check out the view of the lake out that back window. Ya can't find that in a subdivision.
4 - Hmm, what did we use to call those old things a few years ago? Uhhhh. Snow shovels? Yeah, snow shovels.
3 - Renters insurance VS. home owners insurance. No contest.
2 - Show me a house with an elevator and I'll show you a house I can't afford to live in!
1 - The banks foreclosing on this place? No problem. Let's move down the block!

Lessons from a dumpster

Today is for later. I am aware that makes little sense. But it is true. Stick with me.

I just spent the last 60 hours packing up a house that my family lived in for 15 years. This is the last time I am going to write about it. The experience has taught me some things that I have to put into print lest I forget them. This seems like the logical place. If they are helpful to you in anyway, you are welcome to them. If not, well, try www.weather.com.

I filled a dumpster (8 ft X 6ft X 5ft) with the debris collected over 15 years of living in a house raising kids. I cannot believe the things that I threw away. I cannot believe how totally ruthless I became in deciding what was to stay and what was to go. In the end we still filled the largest truck U-Haul rents out. Today it is all in the basement of some of our best friends on the planet. They are saving me thousands of dollars in storage because that stuff will not fit into the one bedroom apartment in Ohio. Well, it would fit ... but we wouldn't.

I sat in front of open drawers and tried to sift through the little objects we all save thinking that we cannot live without them. It is the "stuff of our lives." Well, guess what. We can live without them. They are keepsakes. Tokens of memories. They tug at our hearts reminding us of how good things were. The precious nature of shared events. The profound meaning of a moment in time that we so want to freeze ... and cannot.

Here is what I learned this week.

I love my family. I loved each of them the moment I met them. And since those moments the love has, in each instance, deepened. Without my family I am not certain that there would be anything left of me. Oh, I would still have a body and a brain and obligations. But the essence of "me" is tied up in "them." If you do not have family ... what do you have?

I love my friends. So many came to our aid this week. They packed and they hauled and they fed us and they prayed over us. Our friends carried us this week. They did not have to. They chose to. It's a love thing. If you do not have friends ... what do you have?

I love my God. He has been pretty silent this week. But He has not missed a moment. He paid for it all. He kept reminding me that "stuff" is simply that. Stuff. Perishable things. He places bandages on my past wounds and keeps pointing to a future where there are no moving trucks or boxes or expendable stuff or even Duck Tape. If you do not know God ... what do you have?

I really don't know what else to say. I am so sleepy that I could doze off at this keyboard. My knees creak and groan from the weight they have borne. I suppose I am trying to understand the twists and turns that life has taken. And I have nearly reached the conclusion that I never will understand them. How do you come to understand life? Life is not meant to be understood it is meant to be lived. Navigated. Conquered.

When I was in my late teens I went to a movie on a gloomy Saturday afternoon. It was a "war" movie. Lots of tanks and bombs and soldiers. I walked from a dark and depressing afternoon into the a movie theatre that left you wanting to cheer for the good guy but with the certain impression that victory against evil would never fully be achieved. As I left the theatre I stepped out the same doors I had come in through. The early evening that I found stood in stark contrast with the afternoon I had left behind. The clouds had given way to bright sunshine and a brilliantly blue sky. The air was fresh and clean from recent rains. I felt fresh and clean too, very glad to put away both the gloomy day and the chilling movie.

Life brings pain. The two are synonymous. You will not get through it without feeling its sting. And I guess every life is littered with dumpsters. That is just the way it works. Some are physical dumpsters that sit in a driveway and collect the refuse of years of living. Some are emotional dumpsters that plant themselves as deeply into our minds and hearts as we will let them, collecting feelings and thoughts that you just cannot carry any longer. But there is good news. We are not "home" yet. My faith in Jesus Christ reminds me that someday I will walk out from under the gloom that the days on this planet can bring and into the brilliant sunlight of ... my Father's House. And we will take up residence there with Him. LIfe at Home with Dad. We will not need drawers for token memories because all will be a glorious "now." There will be no more jet planes taking me away from those I love. There will be no more craving for one more hug from precious little arms. There will be no more broken or bruised relationships.

And there will not be one dumpster. Ever.

Stepping on a crack = Bad news for mom

Special Blog Edition: "EMUS CATULI!"

Due to the celebratory nature of this day ... the day when the Cubs once again secured their place in post season play ... the editor (that would be me) has removed the title banner (I Wasted Time and Now Doth Time Waste Me) of this blog from the picture posted above. Why? Because time is not being wasted. True, the Rockwell painting shows sad Cubs fans but that is simply to remind ourselves that the team consists of mere mortals. They only play like supermen. Are they going to win it all? Of course they are. But let us restrain ourselves. Let us remember from whence we came. Let us not count unhatched eggs. Let us remember ... Steve Bartman. The black cat of 1969. You get the idea.

And yet ...

100 years. EMUS CATULI!

Relax

I'm so glad that I paid attention to the stock market this week. It was not at all dissimilar to riding the latest "Puke 'em Up" roller coaster at the amusement park of your choice. Down 500 points. Up 400 points. Down ... up ... up ... down ... you get the point. I only paid attention because the media has to have a way of keeping your attention so that they will get paid. That means they have to get hysterical over, well, anything. If they are hysterical they know I'll watch. Kind of like when the reporter on some cable news network got blown over and rolled through a bush while filming in the midst of hurricane Ike. He was a real brainiac. But I did watch so I suppose he got the job done. The bottom line is that in spite of all the hysterics the stock market is up 40 points in the last month, 18% over the last 5 years and 44% over the last 10 years. And for this I'm suppose to be hysterical?

I say all that just to say this.

In heaven ... nothing has changed. I just asked. God quietly assured me that He is still in control. He's in control on the days when I'm down and He's in control on the days when I'm up. He's in control no matter what the latest politicians stump speech may indicate. Hurricanes wreak their havoc on the coast. Tornado's tear through the heartland. Earth quakes bounce people all over the west coast. Lots of stuff goes wrong. Lots of stuff goes right.

And every time, every moment, no matter what I feel like ... God is still my God. He never wavers, trembles, breaks a sweat, or gets surprised. He is ... well ... God.

So go to bed tonight. Turn ALL of the lights off. There is nothing hiding under your bed that He doesn't know about. He is in charge. And He loves you.

I just thought maybe you needed to be reminded. I know I did.

Every Four Years ...

Eight years ago my father passed away. I really loved him. He was strong and self-confident and all of those things that men are suppose to be. And then he was no more. Sometime after the last eulogy was read, the last song was sung, and the casket was lowered into the ground I went to his house and cleaned it out. It was an act of total stupidity. I rejected the offer of my wife and a close friend and I did it myself. That isn't exactly true. I sorted through their stuff and filled two dumpsters with family memories. And then I hired teenagers from McDonald's to help me load the rented truck and bring the furniture to my mom's new apartment one half of a mile from my house.

Cleaning out their home was brutal. I paid an enormous emotional price.

Four years ago today I buried my mom. We placed her earthly remains next to dad's in the Arkansas cemetery. And it was time to clean out another dwelling. My amazing wife did most of the work this time. She grabbed a few friends and did the sorting and tossing out of memories. I only had to deal with the major furniture. That was hard enough. I really loved my mom just like I did my dad. I still miss them both more than I can say. Last week I was back in the town we all lived in when my mom died. I drove past her old apartment and just parked the car for a minute. Remembering.

And last week my house sold. And so next week I will be going back one more time and cleaning out a place of memories. Blessedly, nobody had to die this time. But this is the place where we raised our children into the awesome adults that they are today. Every room has an abundance of memories. And the garage? The garage is filled full to overflowing with their stuff. Souvenirs ranging from preschool to college. Pictures of wonderful times. Items that hung on my refrigerator door for years.

I have learned sometimes that it is best to simply turn your brain off. Put it in neutral. Let it run out of gas. Do anything but allow it to roam freely. Sometimes it is best to refuse to look backward and simply focus on the task at hand. Or dream about joys coming up in future days. Onward and upward.

I don't know what life will look like four years from now. Given my recent history this concerns me. I have never been the sad type. My life has been more defined by joy and exuberance for living than by gloom. But geez. This cycle has to be broken. Three times in a row is more than enough. I have often noticed an odd symmetry to life but this is ridiculous. And so I am giving my family and friends ample notice. The year 2012 will be joy-filled. Dying will not be tolerated. Those who relocate far away will be scorned. I don't want so much as a fender bender in a car or a pet that has to be put to sleep. I want more grandkids by then and I want them bouncing on my knee and slobbering up my face with their kisses. I want hugs and holding hands and loud laughter bouncing off the rafters. I will be 57 years old. My hair will be even more gray than it is now and I will be celebrating every one that is left on my head. It WILL be a GREAT year.

But for now? One more house. One more dumpster. One more time.

Hurricanes are not suppose to come to Ohio

Who knew? We were in church Sunday night when the lights started blinking. We heard the wind. But we are a hardy bunch up here. Wind is not unusual 1 1/2 blocks from Lake Erie. We finished our bible study, had our monthly business meeting, and drove home. Debbie was experiencing some asthma issues and so I walked her up to our apartment and then left to go grab some supper and bring it home.

I stepped outside onto the 3rd floor catwalk.

HOLY STINKEN COW! The wind had more than doubled in the five minutes I was in the building. I'm guessing it was blowing way faster than the speed limit on the local expressways. I had to lean in to it in order to continue forward progress. And weirdest of all? It was barely raining. There was just this like ... driving mist. Totally odd. When I got into the Trail Blazer it was rocking in the wind. I pulled out onto Lake Road and the trees were dancing. The farther inland I got the slower the wind blew. After a tour through the Arby's drive-in I returned to hurricane-ville by the lake. To the east of us and to the west of us the communities lost power. We never did. This was a grace as it would have been a very difficult thing for Debbie to fight asthma through an un-air conditioned night. Blessedly we didn't have to find out just how tough. Some of them are still powerless. And a young boy was killed nearby trying to get home on his bike before the storm hit. A tree fell on him. How totally tragic.

But aren't hurricanes suppose to, you know, be by the ocean? I don't remember them drifting up into the upper midwest before. Must be global warming. Or maybe it's because it's an election year. Could be the economic crises.

Whatever it is I wish it would quit. I don't like Ike.

It's our year

Sure it was a no-hitter. I mean, Carlos Zambrano beating the Astro's tonight. No hits. But did you also know ...

-This was the first Cubs no-hitter by a pitcher who's last name begins with a "Z?"

-This was the first Cubs no-hitter at a "neutral site" ball park?

-This was the first Cubs no-hitter that W-stinken-GN didn't show outside of Chicago? Thanks so much to whoever made that decision.

- This was the first Cubs no-hitter since I moved to Cleveland, moved to St. Louis, moved to the western suburbs of Chicago, got married, had children, graduated from college, graduated from high school, and started shaving.

- This was the first Cubs no-hitter since a gallon of gas cost TWENTY NINE CENTS PER GALLON.

I'd say it's about time.

Supper With Elle

From a grateful Dad and former home owner

I have to make a choice. I can write about two things tonight. Both are very important to me. Four days ago my house sold after a year on the market. Today my daughter turns a lovely 28 years old. I have to write about the one that means the most to me.

She was all pink and slimy. Her eyes were like saucers except that they pierced deeply into my soul. In ninety seconds I went from being a man who never wanted children to a man who would die for one. It took her a heartbeat to win my soul. That was 10,220 days (you may adjust for leap years yourself) ago and absolutely nothing has changed. I have gone through the observation phase of the birth process three times. And three times I have fallen to unfathomable depths of love that I never thought possible.

Kelli was the first and today, from a distance of nearly 600 miles, I have silently celebrated every hour. How do you say "thank you" to God for someone so life improving, so heart changing, so soul inspiring, as any of my three kids? How do you wrap your mind around the truth that God allows us ... mortal human beings ... to participate with Him in the process of creation? God created my kids through love. The love of my wife and I for each other. And now we see the reflection of that love in each of them as they have chosen their mates very well.

And so to my kids on this night I say a grateful thank you. Thanks for being who you are. Thanks for loving your parents. Thanks for the unmitigated joy of watching you grow up. Thanks for making our houses into homes. Tomorrow I will fly back to St. Louis to that newly sold house. I'll fix the minor things that need repairing before inspectors descend upon it. But my mind won't be on wiring or termites. My mind will be on memories. Laughter. Games of "HORSE" in the driveway. Dates making their way through the front door and out again. Some rejected. Some accepted into the family. Christmas mornings. Pizza dinners. An occasional disagreement. Some of them louder than others. But I will remember that it's just a house. Houses all come down eventually. Memories? They last forever when you make them treasures and not anchors.

Kelli. Scott. Chris. Here's to the treasures. And Debbie? Nice job...

10 Reason's Why I'm In A Blogging Slump

10- Uh.
9- Um.
8- Well.
7- (scratching head)
6- (looking around the room)
5- Because ...
4- (sweating)
3- (sigh)
2-
1-

Sleep = Good

What better time to blog than when you've slept 2.5 hours out of the last 36? This mini-essay is an experiment. I want to see how many brain cells I've killed off.

Debbie and I made a dash to Bethalto Sunday afternoon after morning worship service. 575 miles. A decent drive. We slept in our own house on our own air mattress. The place is haunted. No, seriously. It's haunted. About half of the furniture is gone and what remains likes to tell stories. It is impossible to sit on a chair or at a table without recalling the multitude of great times that took place on that spot. Even the garage tells stories. And don't even think about going into the (former) kids rooms!

But I had not checked on the house or the yard since June. I was shocked when I pulled in the drive. It was dark but not so dark as to prohibit seeing the carnage that three months had taken. The shrubs had extended over the sidewalk. The driveway had mega-weeds sprouting through the cracks. And the 4 trees in the backyard had grown to the point where their branches came within one foot of the ground. Seriously, I had trimmed them in June and had walked under them and could not touch those same branches that I now nearly tripped over.

And so a long hard day was spent trimming and dragging, trimming and dragging. You know. Trim the growth and drag it to the street. And it was a lovely 93 degrees. The humidity reached the "ocean" range on the old humidity scale. If I didn't lose a few pounds there is simply no justice.

But there were fun times like last night. We had a great evening at the home of our forever friends, Bob and Cindy Dude. Kelli and Joe were there, The Amazing Elle was in attendance, and Jim and Alisha also showed up. Debbie and i were the last ones out the door and arrived home around midnight. I saw 1AM before finally falling asleep. And I woke up at 3:30AM with the realization that Debbie was moving around. She hadn't fallen asleep. So I did that "husband comfort" thing, telling her that all was well. She fell asleep. I was awake. Somewhere around 4:30AM she woke up and told me that a light had just flashed through the living room window. (We were sleeping in the living room.) Then she fell back asleep. I ... didn't. I checked the yard. Nothing. I went back to the air mattress, listening for foreign noises. You see, nobody has lived in the house since April when Christopher moved to Kelli and Joe's. So the house is a target. That's obvious. At 4:45AM a police car with flashing lights drove down the street. Now I was not only awake but in hyper-mode. At 5:15AM a garbage truck came along with a flashing light on the back on his truck. That had to be checked-out. And at 5:45AM my neighbor across the street started up his truck and flipped on his headlight. He had backed into his drive and my room light up almost violently. At 6:45AM my alarm went off. We drove away at 7:30AM. I think Debbie slept for 3 hours. So she had to do most of the driving on the drive home today. We got back 45 minutes before I had to teach Wednesday evening bible study.

Okay, there it is! Tomorrow morning I'll reread this and if it actually makes sense I'll know that I am a genius that can survive on virtually no sleep after sweating off my entire entire body weight.

This .. is a test ...

I guess we really do get forgiven ...

A blog by my good friend and "birthday buddy" Kristi has got me thinking about Moses. I don't spend a lot of time thinking about him. He's been gone a long time. We didn't exactly cross paths or anything like that. Still, he does take up a lot of bible space and so I am very familiar with his ways and the events of his life. He did some really good things. Screwed-up a few times too. Case in point ...

Moses screwed-up so badly that God banned him from the promise land. He gave him this simple direction. In the presence of the Israelites speak to the rock and command it to bring forth water. Pretty simple, huh? But when the time came and the people were gathered together Moses struck the rock twice with his staff instead of speaking to it. He also to credit for the pouring forth of water by asking "Must we bring you water out of this rock?" referring to himself and his brother, Aaron. In short, he simply disobeyed God. And God takes obedience very seriously.

You didn't know that? Shame on you.

So God told Moses that he was not going to get to enter the promise land. He could see it. He just couldn't enter it. And sure enough Moses died never having gotten to enter that much anticipated country.

Fast forward a couple thousand years. We find ourselves on "The Mount of Transfiguration." Jesus took a trio of his disciples there. Peter, James and John. Suddenly Jesus was "transfigured" and began speaking with two heavenly guests. Who were those guests, you ask? Well, One was Elijah. The other was ... Moses.

Hmmm. The "Mount of Transfiguration" was located in "the promise land." And Moses was there. In other words ... he made it. He got in. Once Moses died and entered the presence of God the guilt was erased. The penalty was obviously lifted. He got to see what he was not allowed to enter while walking around the planet in his regular old flesh and blood body.

I really am glad to know that. I fail God more often than you know. And I am not going to start giving you a laundry list of my own personal screw-ups now. God knows. I know. That's quite enough, thank you. And Moses is my own personal poster boy for forgiveness. Because of the gift God gives us in allowing us a glimpse of Moses showing up where he was not suppose to be able to show up we can actually buy in to the truth that when Jesus died for us He paid for EVERYTHING. I'm off the hook. I'm free. I'm forgiven. The curse is lifted.

Death is not to be feared. Death is freeing. It is in death that we finally ... at long last ... find ourselves home. Home. Forgiven at home. I don't have a death wish. I have a lot to live for. But a big part of me ... can't wait.

(Note: If I die anytime soon please know that I did not write this as a premonition! I'm driving carefully, looking both ways before I cross the street, and going inside during thunderstorms. Maybe God knows something but He sure hasn't told me! So you can read this at my funeral but as you do ... shake your head sadly at my total cluelessness!)

What good is a lake if it doesn't spit at you every now and then?

I finished my daily tasks and decided to take a lakeside walk this afternoon. The lake was kicking up its heels a little bit. It was really cool to watch it as the breakers slammed into the concrete covered by steel dock at our apartment complex. After a few minutes I grabbed my cell phone and called for Debbie to come down. Well, being the adventurous soul that she is, it wasn't good enough to stand at a safely dry distance and watch. So we lay ourselves down on the wide sidewalk. I grabbed my camera and switched it to video. What you see above is the final result. It's a couple of minutes long but ends very in a very worthwhile manner with my darling wife getting quite wet. Every husband should have a day that ends as happily as mine did!