Chasing Clowns

A little while ago I was at a benefit concert for anti sex trafficking.  It was a good thing with some great musicians that I enjoy listening too.  The funny thing was there was a stretch with a lot of depressing breakup songs and he even cracked a joke about it.  I wouldn't have thought much of it except that I had been at another concert several weeks prior where it was even more obvious.  Now I've been jaded by girls plenty myself and I can appreciate a good breakup song as much as the next guy, but there was something stirring inside of me that shouldn't we have something else to write about?  I don't know God or family or even yellow submarines.

I started thinking about this idea of heartbreak just not seeming so important anymore.  And then for some reason, this got me to thinking about Camp Side By Side -- a camp for kids with cancer that is very close to my heart.  I started thinking about the many stories we've all heard of the person everyone loves slowly dying in front of all their friends and families -- the story where they are the beacon of strength and clarity and joy.  I ended up writing a poem about it.  The funny thing about this poem was my favorite line was the line "Chasing Clowns".  I have never seen a terminally ill child chase a clown, but that line seemed to capture everything I was trying to say so perfectly and so vividly.

Chasing Clowns
Growing pale
Looking frail
Finding joy left within

Seizing time
Making rhyme
Smile so big

Laughing, playing
Like we did back when

Hearbreak, traffic jams, dollar bills
Just don't seem so important anymore

Not held down
Chasing clowns
Fooling us around

Teaching us
Refusing fuss
Just the way things are

It will soon be done
But not before some fun

Need not cry
All must die

Going for it all...

A couple of months ago I went bowling with some folks from my apartment complex.  When I go bowling, a game is a complete failure if I don't crack triple digits.  The first game I'm bowling okay and I need something like 8 pins in the final frame to get 100.  So what do I do, I step up and come up 1 short to get a 99!!  I am utterly crushed and looking for a reason to live.

But the real story is what happens next.  I don't mess around when it comes to bowling.  I don't try anything crazy because I don't want to throw a 50 up there.  But I am just so jaded and dispirited by my 99 that all rules are off.  Everyone knows that all the pros bowl with spin so I decide I'm just going to do it because I don't care anymore.    Let me preface this by saying at this point I've probably tried spinning a ball 3 times in my life so I have no idea what I'm doing. But the stars aligned, I went out and bowled a 165, the highest score of my life!  I bowled 4 strikes in one game -- this has never happened before!

So the obvious metaphor here is that sometimes you just have to go for something instead of playing it safe.  This has certainly been true of my life where most of my childhood, my hearts playing career, and various other points in my life I've been too afraid to go for it.  I see it all the time in tennis where I start playing not to lose instead of playing to win -- and then of course I lose.

But here's the crazy thing, I just went bowling again last Thursday.  At this point I'm walking on a water because I'm coming off a 165.  This happens to be a guy / girl mixer and I'm talking up my new found spinning expertise.  So what do I do?  I step up and roll a 148.  Pretty solid score, almost all the balls are right on target -- this spinning thing has got a future in my life.  But then game 2 comes and all a sudden I've lost it.  Balls were finding the gutter, they weren't spinning back far enough, it was just a mess.  I was like Samson with his hair cut off!  Somehow I salvaged a 106.  So game 3 comes up with a very important bet on the line and I need a big game. I have faith in the way of the spin so I stick with it.  Even worse, I bowl a 92.  I'm already a Has Been four games into my spin career.

So what's the lesson here?  I'm not really sure.  Go for broke and prepare for when broke comes along.

Irishisms revisted

I was visiting an old friend from Belfast the other day who reminded me of a recurring email segment that I use to do in Ireland called "Irishisms of the Week".  Considering that it is by far the most read thing I've ever written, I've decided to compile an anthology.  Since I am lazy, this is largely unedited.

11/25/05 Happy White Thanksgiving

Irish Spellings: Tyres, Cheque, Colour

Pronounciations: Croissant (said with a french accent...and I thought they didn't like the French), vit- (like fit) amins, and Nike (pronounced like Pike and this is an American company!

Definition  bap - hamburger bun or some sort of breaded food...(I think)

12/20/05 There's no "happy" in Christmas

Through my travels of the UK, I have heard or seen the phrase "Happy Christmas" more times than I can count.  Well, I have quickly chastised the locals and pointed to "We wish you a Merry Christmas" and every Christmas movie I can think of to illustrate my point...so there you go.

Most people consider themselves British and not Irish (although they can get Irish passports)

C.S. Lewis was born and raised in Belfast

"Tea" can refer to well tea or more oftenly dinner

The keyboards are almost identical, except that some genius thought it would be funny to switch the ' @ ' and '  "  '  keys

Taking your hand and putting up two fingers (like the sign for smoking or the number two if you were counting) is like flipping someone the bird -- even though you can do that as well

Locals will be highly amused if you ever use the words "fanny" or "pants" in a sentence

platform = stage

gallery = balcony (nothing like someone telling you to put away the "platform" or to get something from the "gallery" and you just staring blankly back at them.

main Church = Sancutary

car park = parking lot

Christmas dinner = really big 4 course meal with more forks than I know what to do with

brill = brilliant = well done

2/7/06 mourning the Hawks in Belfast...
-- repeating yourself
e.g. I went to the store so I did...I've got a paper to write so I do

skip = dumpster

fit = hot, attractive, etc.
e.g.  Wow, that girl's really fit

celidh (caley) = traditional Irish Dance

2/26/06 Postal Strike is over!!

If you meet anyone named Sam, their name can only be pronounced "Psalm"

This place could really use a lesson in road signs.  Apparently, they
thought it was a good idea to place an obscure sign on a building side
at either end of a street and to ignore the 25 BLOCKS in between!
(rule also applies to London)

It's just not a sandwich unless it has butter and lots of butter on
it.  This phenomenon also extends to buttering hot dog buns with hot
dogs on them...I kid you not.

"cheeky" -- roughly equivalent to "sassy", but not really negative
"slagging" -- poking fun at a friend
Both words tend to get used around me quite a bit, and I also seem to
be developing a reputation at being around the girls -- I don't know
how these things get started

"yer man" -- could be anyone from a friend, to the president, to
anyone with loose ties to you..."Yer man George Clooney is up for best
Director at the Oscars, so he is"

Random Steve quote of the week: (new section devoted to my Northern
Irish co-worker Steve Kee who may just be my hero in life)

 "The early bird gets the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese"

3/6/06 working for the IRA...

I'm convinced that there are more KFCs in Northern Ireland than in all
of Kentucky (on a side note, this guy from Kentucky brought a bucket
of the Colonel's finest to an International food fest...hillarious)

Ulster = essentially Northern Ireland (but not exactly)
Ulster fry = heart attack on a plate -- eggs, bacon, sausage,
pancakes, soda bread, potato bread, beans, tomatoes, mushrooms, etc.
ALL FRIED (seeing a theme?)

nackard = tired
snog = kiss
mucker = friend -- and to think that it sounds so derogatory

ack = random filler with no discernable meaning -- often used before
the word 'no'

Guy 1: Hey mucker, you look nackard.  Were you snogging last night?
Guy 2: ack...no

Steve joke of the week:

What do you call a dog with no legs? It doesn't matter, he won't come
Where do you find a dog with no legs? right where you left him

3/26/06 Husky heartbreak...

Ireland:  the only place that could hold a national drinking holiday
in the middle of Lent

List of famous Northern Irish bands in no particular order: Van
Morrison, Snow Patrol, and ummmnnm.....

If a Northern Irish person ever makes fun of American sports, point
out that Northern Irish soccer holds the World record for consecutive
scoreless minutes and that the scintalating sport of Cricket can last
5 days.

bill (on a baseball cap) = peak...what's that all about?

Radom Steve quote of the week (while standing around): "I'm good at
looking and I'm good to look at"

4/15/06 Happy Easter!!

American concepts foreign to the locals: Sloppy Joes, Corn Dogs, Dairy
Queen, Jimmy Buffett, Slurpee's, real milk shakes, real hamburgers, PB
& J -- which will really get you a perplexed look as "jelly" is
"jello" over here

Aluminum -- pronounced (Al - u - men - e [as in bee] - um) ...that's just weird

nappie -- diaper
pram -- baby carriage
petrol -- gas
trainers -- sneakers / any sports' shoe
jumper -- jacket or hoodie

Random Steve quote of the week:

(As our minister is trying to illustrate this really complex point
about OT people dying and going to heaven where he repeatedly uses the
phrases "over here" and "over there")

Steve: "That appears to be mutually exclusive ... from over here that is"

4/26/06 pics from Scotland and other fun news...

The 26th letter of the alphabet is 'zed' not 'z'.  I've repeatedly
pointed out that "x -y -zed, now I know my a - b - c's " doesn't rhyme
so it is clearly wrong

ketchup = red sauce
BBQ sauce = brown sauce (a very flowerly language they have over here)

a period (at the end of a sentence) is a "full stop" and no I am not
making this up

The Yankees' marketing behemoth is in full force over here with a
ridiculous number of people wearing their stuff who couldn't tell you
that the Yankees are a baseball team, that they play in New York, or
that George Steinbrenner is the scum of the Universe


Steve quote of the week as Kairos is located in his hometown of Cookstown:

"After the cinema, the second most exciting place in town is the kids'
play park where people come to snog...oh, and then there's the
recycling center..."

5/11/06 Tis' the season to BBQ...

Irish greetings: How's you, hiya, heya, what's about you?, how's the craic

Is that us? = Are we done?
That's us = We're done
cheerio (say it like a posh [snooty] English person for full effect) = goodbye...and to think it's not a breakfast cereal

The following are all real Crisp (potato chip) flavors:  Lamb and mint, Heinz Tomato Ketchup, Marmite Yeast Extract, Pickled Onion, Prawn Cocktail, and Smoky Bacon...to name a few...Marmite Yeast Extract...yum

Steve thought of the week (and he took physics so you know this adds up)

So:                          

                  women = time * money
and everyone knows that:              time = money
so:                                              women = money²
and of course:                              money = √EVIL
which follows that:                        money² = EVIL
so:                                              women = EVIL

...and we wonder why we don't have girlfriends

5/29/06 Christmas in May (and almost June)?

Does anyone else find it alarming that the church phone number contains 6666 all in a row?

The modern marvels -- on / off switches on every electric socket; the electric shower (you never run out of hot water) -- I feel this is right up there with the shopping cart escalator in Northgate for 8th wonder of the World!

Great Belfast engineering feats -- The Titanic and the DeLorean

class - that person / place / thing is really great

flip - loosely translates to "I'll be darn" or "crap!"

dead on - great - generally refers to people

"Flip, yer man's dead on.  That was class."

eegit - idiot

minger - ugly person - the equivalent of "loser"

"does your head in" - drives you up the wall

"That mingers an eegit.  He does my head in."

Steve's Irish jokes of the week

What do you call an Irishman hanging from the ceiling?  Shaun - de - leer

What do you call his wife? Crystal Shaun - de -leer

What do you call an Irish beer thief? Nick - ed mc Guinness

6/19/06 back in Seattle with phone...

World Cup thoughts:

    1.  It has been incredibly addicting...this can be the only reason to explain why I've been watching games like Switzerland - Togo?

    2.  The Italians are the biggest bunch of pansies, floppers, and whiners!

    3.  I watched the game in a bar next to a bunch of sterotypical Italians raising their arms in yelling the player names like a very disappointed Italian grandmother -- very funny

Tea time -- when the amount of tea they drink here, you think it would be well... "tea" time, but you'd be wrong!...it's actually dinner

e.g. "I'm going to grab my tea"   -- of course, if it was after 9, it would be your supper and they're also firm believers in the dessert spoon to eat things like cake, pies, etc. -- very weird

daft -- stupid, foolish

In Florida, it's "coke" ... in Washington, it's "pop" ... and in Belfast it's "fizzy drink" -- what's that about?

And finally, the Queen's English is in full effect with words such as "tidy", "naughty", "proper", and "posh" -- tally ho my dear chap

7/05/06 back in Seattle with phone...

Slieve Donard -- That's right I got to conquer the highest point in all of Northern Ireland (all 2600 feet of it! ... pic below) which was promptly celebrated with ice cream of the "chockee bear" (highly recommended) variety at Maudes' Ice Cream

Final North Coast trip -- took one final trip to the North Coast which included running down the sweetest sand dunes and the jousting match of death

Free Irish Whiskey -- after realizing that I spent an entire year without having any Irish Whiskey, we stopped by the Bushmills factory and we ended up securing complimentary Irish Whiskey

Prank of the minister's office -- as part of the final night festivities, I was a part of a prank of the minister's office that can only be described as "teddy bear picnic" -- craziest adventure since crashing the sailboat into the island at Firwood! -- pics to come later

Favorite Irishisms of the year:

What's the craic [crack]?  or How's the craic?  -- sad to say that I can no longer use these in a sentence unless I wind up at Pike's Place Market in the middle of the night

anything with the word "wee" or "yer" in it -- "There goes yer wee man"

Wha abouch ya? -- If you ever meet someone from Ballymenia...of course, you might have a hard time understanding them

 

The perfect Church

I've been thinking a lot about Church lately. Unfortunately, this has been because of a disappointment in my current Church experience. It's tough because there are things in your life (like Church!) that you want to be part of a fluid experience, but what do you do when something rudely disrupts the pattern of that familiar experience? Do you ignore it or do you ask the tough questions?

It's these questions that have been on my mind. What would the ideal Church be like? And let me clarify that when I say "Church", I am referring to a specific set of believers who meet in a singular place as opposed to the body of Christ as a whole. And so back to Church.

I have often been struck by the segregation of the modern day Church. We have white churches, black churches, rich churches, poor churches. Pretty much the stuff we all think of when we say "segregation". But we don't stop there, what about style of worship? Traditional, Contemporary, Gospecl, Bluegrass. Or what about age and marital status? Young twentysomething singles, retirees, newlyweds. You get the idea...

I went to a Church the last two weeks that a friend suggested. This was a Church in very much the modern style of being focusued on social justice / service and being set in a warehouse type environment with coffee in hand. I liked the Church. I found the preaching to be strong and the people to be friendly and open, and a strong commitment to serving the needy and the community. These things are clearly the most important. However, there were two things that nagged me about this Church 1. I'm not sure that I could of found someone over the age of 40 and few folks that you would expect to find in a traditional Church 2. It was too casual (the Pastor wore flip-flops). I'm not one to get too caught up in what people wear to Church but whatever happened to the holiness of God's house? If I would never weak flip-flops and shorts to work, why should I to Church?

And so this brings me to another Church that a person I repsect told me about -- Kairos Church. They have been meeting at another Church at 4 and are probably only 40 or 50 folks. I went and the Pastor and the people just felt authentic. The Pastor challenged the congregation on topic that has been on my mind for a long time and saying that you will not be comfortable in this Church. I even received an email the next day from him saying hi and asking how he could pray for me -- wow. It's hard to sum up in just a few words, but this felt like what I've been looking for. This looks to be a place on the move, committed to service and committed as a diverse and a whole community. It's not the perfect Church, but then again the only perfect church is on McDaniel Street in Downtown Atlanta :)

Edgar, me, and the Casino cigar room

When you’re in the cigar room of a casino with Edgar Martinez at 2 in the morning, you have to ask yourself “How did I get here?”. It is only then that you have to shake your head and realize that only Brent could have gotten you here.

Incredibly, this was not my first bizarre run-in with a celebrity (I once chauffeured and gave my cell phone number to a very drunk Shooter McGavin). Shooter notwithstanding, this evening took the surreal cake.

So Brent was celebrating his 27th birthday at the Snoqualmie casion. He was there with probably 10-15 of his fellows Sports Administration Grad students that included a U-Dub Tennis player and a former NFL nose tackle.

One of the girls had found herself at Edgar’s Blackjack table and before long another girl took up Edgar’s offer of a free $25 to play at one of the empty seats. And then things really took off. At one point, everyone pushed all in where everyone except another high roller went bust, but he quickly bankrolled the other players including Edgar himself. Then the girls started hitting it big and at one point players were taking shots for getting blackjack.

And if the night couldn't any stranger, I soon found myself as part of a group of 12 or so to caravan over to the Casino cigar lounge with Edgar. Granted, I was at the far end of the table and Edgar didn't say 2 words to me all night...but he saw me! I can also say that I know the man behind the women behind the blackjack table. So if you ever find yourself behind a blackjack table with Edgar Martinez and he's offering you $25, you should probably take that bet.

The idea of transformation

I suppose that this is the perfect time for me to stop and reflect on life after one year of being in Atlanta. I think that one thing God is teaching me is patience. My mind is adript and buzzing constantly with ideas. But deep down, I know that the time is not quite right.

I recently had the privilege to hear the author of The Shack speak. One of the things that he said that struck me was that God only ran once in the Bible and that was in the story of the Prodigal son where his beloved son had returned home. More often than not, Jesus took his time and was often days late -- sometimes to the point that people died. But because of this, he never missed the present moment, whether it was being careful to feel the touch of a bleeding woman or simply recognizing the presence of an outcast Samaritan at a well. Another story that has always left an impression on me is that of the earthquake that freed Paul from his chains. With every opportunity to escape, he risks his life to save that of a jailer who had likely beaten him just hours before.

The idea of transformation has been on my mind of late. I happened to be in Durham about a month ago when I visited a Church there with friends and heard one of the most challenging sermons I have in on a long time on the "Sterility of Religion" http://www.summitchurch.cc/templates/System/details.asp?id=29456&PID=319636&sermonsite_action=view_sermon&sermonsite_sermonid=31111. There were many things that resonated with me but one was the example he gave of going to the homeless shelter to feel better about ourselves and our "service". This hit me right between the eyes as he very well could have been describing my experience with the Safehouse outreach here in Atlanta. It is easy for me to pretend that I am doing some outstanding thing while the true service opportunity is staring me directly in the face. All the while, I go on talking to my friends.

A friend of mine, Sandor, recently spoke in my Sunday School class about the idea of Transformation. The premise was this: What could really happen if our entire Church and our entire community were transformed by Christ?! I went to speak with him on this and the conversation fell short of what I had hoped. Nevertheless, the idea is still stewing on my brain. Have we as a congregation settled for just enough to ease our consciences? Do we really believe (or want to believe) that God is ready to do immeasureably more than we can ask or imagine?

It is seemingly ironic that a blog that begain talking about patience ended up talking about transformation but the ideas are not mutually exclusive. In fact, more often than not the two have to work hand and hand and I believe that to be God's preferred way anyways.

I do not want to leave this as just a passing idea. Frequently, good intentions are choked away in the weeds of life. I think that there is only one way to start and that is through patient prayer.

The land of 10,000 traffic lights

And there you have it -- my pet name for the city of Atlanta.  I think there is a lesson to be learned here and plenty of time to ponder it as the light turns green, drive 25 feet and the next light turns red.  Repeat roughly 30-40 times for the next hour and a half and that pretty much sums up Atlanta traffic.

So 9 months in...what do we know?  We know that nobody is from Atlanta.    The midwest is well represented and so is Alabama.  People don't meet for coffee; they meet for lunch or dinner or drinks.  SEC football reigns supreme (GA. Tech who?) and a party in the fall is likely to find passionate fans from at least 7 of the SEC schools -- and God help us all if Georgia happens to have lost.

It would seem that Atlanta is in search of an identity.  There really isn't an identifiable landmark unless you count the Aquarium or Stone Mountain (a.k.a. "The Confederate Mount Rushmore"). It is constantly on the go and it would seem the prevaling attitude is "Work hard, Play hard"

I look at this new residence and I wonder now I got here and how long I'll be here.  I obviously know the circumstaces that brought me here but the question is undoubtedly a deeper one than that.  I was never excited about the city itself and I am still not overjoyed about the prospects of it as a long-term home.

However, the longer I am here, the more convinced I come that God brought me here.  There were certanly things I had to face and questions I had to answer.  Beyond that, there have been many other positive things about the move.  But even more, I get the feeling that God has placed me here for a very distinct purpose.  Perhaps it is the relationships I will form here or the organizations I will get involved with and perhaps it is just a matter of trust -- the ability to trust that God has a plan for me that is beyond anything I could imagine for myself.  My mind is constantly churning and the hope is that someday it will figure out how to make butter.

So all that to say that I have been having a great time and loving life.  I have many several friendships and found a consistent Church community.  The job has been teaching me incredible things and given me the opportunity to learn from one of the experts in my field.  I have maintained my usual heavy involvement with Church related activities but I am learning how to better manage my activities and my time so that I don't feel overloaded or spread too thin.  I often get the chance to work from a coffee shop at the Church which gives me the opportunity to pester the student ministry staff.  I have even found a little time to resume my tennis career and to expand my rec league softball prowess (I actually got a legit triple the other day!).  And lastly, I have seen my family more times in this past year than any point in the previous seven before that.

And with that, I leave you with one more thought:

Southern Lesson of the Night

I think most people are aware that "Y'all" is a Southern term.  However, I received a rather surprising education the other night.  Apparently "All Y'all" is a perfectly legitimate use of the term.  Now lets use that in a sentence:

"Are all y'all comin' for some chicken & waffles?"  (and no I did not make up that combination)

You can never go home again...or can you?

The signing of Ken Griffey Jr.  to Seattle has inspired me to write this blog entry with the giddiness of an overexuberant schoolgirl.  Ok, I must confess that it took me approximately two and a half seconds to get over the disappointment of not seeing him play in Hotlanta.  But back to the point at hand...

It got me to thinking about homecomings and perhaps I will use these musings to derrive some sort of greater meaning from the idea.  I think we've all been at some place at some point of time that's magical or at least we look back at some point of nostalgia with rose colored glasses.   It was a time when all was well with the World, everything had P-U-R-P-O-S-E (See Avenue Q for this somewhat forced and out of place reference), etc., etc., etc...

And that's exactly what this was -- not just for the Kid, but for an entire city.  I have read article after article from Seattlites of what watching him play meant; I have seen how one double can reshape the entire identity of a place.  Here's the thing...I didn't grow up in Seattle and I've never seen Griffey play as a Mariner.  I arrived to my adopted city in time to witness the Mariners win more games than any team in History.  Seattle has had it's share of great moments like the Sonices in 79 or the Dawgs in 91.  Sacred icons like Largent, Edgar, and the Dawgfather are ever looming.

And yet this somehow feels different.  Griffey was not only great -- perhaps the greatest talent to wield a bat -- but he was everything that was right with the game.  He played with such joy and effortless effort that you just couldn't help but like him.  He was warmly embraced and he never turned his back on the city even when he wore another uniform.

But now what...he's coming back.  Can he tarnish his legacy and ruin the indelible memories?  One of the few things I've learned in life is that those special moments are reserved for that time and place.  You can never go back because the atmosphere is never the same -- no matter how much you want it to be.  However, I think this is different.  New magic and new circumstances can always be created; it just can't be done in the same way.

A perfect storm is brewing.  Expectations have been set to where nobody expects the player that left.  The city has been ripped asunder and a hero has emmerged from the ashes to strap the remains to his back.  And that is what so special about sports -- the impossible is possible.  When the conditions are ripe, a hobbled vetern can limp around the bases leaving onlockers to gasp..."I don't believe what I just saw!"

Faith and Politics

Tonight was a night to be proud to be an American; a night to celebrate the political process and the witnessing of history.  I celebrated with this man who has the weight of the World on his shoulders and in the seamlessness and bloodlessness of the transition.  I wish Obama and his family all the best in the next four years.

We are also living in a Facebook World and nothing can so quickly illustrate the thoughts and views of the peope you know (or at least meant once or maybe not at all).  Among the many excited folks for this momentous day, there were a few that took this opportunity to take shots at Bush and the past Administration -- most of them from people I know to be Christians.  This did not sit well with me as I believe him to be a sincere believer and one has never been ashamed of his faith and that is at least one thing we can celebrate about his Presidency.

Now that I don't think his faith should be free reign to do anything and we should constantly be critical and discerning of any President's decisions.   There have been things that have been done in the name of Christianity that should not have been.  However, we also have to be able to separate the policies from the person.  We have to be careful in judging someone that we have never known on a personal basis.

By all accounts, President Clinton was a very smart and personable man with many strengths.  However the image of him that sticks in my mind is him saying "depends on what the meaning of is is" and toying with the institutions of marriage and the courtroom.  And that is why Bush receives higher marks in my book because he remained faithful in marriage and I believe him to have have been one who humbly sought the will of God (I am not trying to justify any of his actions with this statement).  And that is why I have the highest regard for President Carter.  From the accounts I have read, he had a tumultous Presidency but he has lived out his faith in magnificent ways since leaving office; he has constantly served and loved others.

And that brings me back to President Obama.  This man has already impressed me with the way that he has conducted himself.  He has shown wisdom in selecting his cabinent and has genuinely made efforts to cross the aisle.  He has avoided opportunities to gloat and he was gracious to the outgoing Administration.  He seems to be one that is committed to and genuinely loves his wife and daugthers.

We have to hold the decisions he makes to the highest of standards and to use the checks of our political system accordlingly; he is in a position of tremendous power.  I am a firm believer that character ultimately defines a person.  And so if Obama falls flat on his face and fails miserably, but does so in such a way that he can hold his head up high where he will have done what he believed best and did so with a discerning, humble, and trustworthy heart...then I will have considered him to be a success.  God Bless you Mr. President.

Praying to an invisible God

Ben Towne passed away.   There it is...such a simple statement but something that calls into existence much of what I believe.  Now I barely knew the Townes and I have really only followed the story from afar through blogs, and friends, and church community.  But yet this is a story that permeates through my very being -- I suppose more for what it says about God than anything else.

I have grown up in a fairly Conservative wing of the Presbyterian Church -- strong on the Bible, theology, and the tenets of Calvinism.  However, the miraculous often escapes us.  It  is not that we explicitly deny it, but we leave it hanging awkwardly in the distance not knowing quite what to do with it.  There is nothing that will challenge these notions quite like spending a little time abroad.  I have been propheshized to, seen the speaking of tongues, and witnessed a semi-exoricism among other things.  This has kicked off an internal struggle (as the Rev D. J. McKelvey can attest to) as to who God is and the role that God plays in the here and now.

And so that brings me back to Ben.  I prayed for the Towne family -- not just for the standard requests of comfort and support for the family but that God would heal this little boy.  I hoped that faith as small as a mustard seed and the prayers of hundreds of others would prove a testament to the living God.  

And now I'm left to wonder what it all means.  I was heartbroken at some of the posts I read from this family who was desperately grasping for air.  I know that you can't pick and choose with these things; trajedy, war and strife are as old as the Earth (just look at Israel) and faith has perservered.  But still, faith is supposed to mean something; the prayers of the people should change things; the hand of God should be everpresent.   I can recite a well versed and coherent arugument to the contary, but you know what...I just don't understand.

A funny thing happened while I was writing that last paragraph.  I have often bemused by the Psalms and how the Psalmist can curse and question God and yet come full cirlce to praise Him at the very end.  It is a natural part of faith.  You have to have a forum to question God, but then you have to realize your place.  I sometimes feel like the disciples...at the point when everyone else has deserted Jesus and he asks if they will to.  Peter answers that they have nowhere to go -- not exactly a glowing endorsement but a moment of genuine vulnerability.  For better or worse, I'm in this for the long haul.  Glory be to God in the Highest.  Amen.