Kobayashi Maru

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WbtkhB3cFGs[/youtube]

...Comment [1]

So I was recently asked to perform another wedding.  I am not unaccustomed to officiating weddings, but neither are they something that I do every day.  So it is always a little humbling to be asked to be a part of a marriage.
So why was I asked to do the wedding?

Was I a close friend of the bride and/or groom?  Bluntly, no.

Did we go to the same church? No…they aren’t really church going folk.

Was I a referral through someone close to them?  Not so much.

Did they pick me out of a phone book?  No, I am not even listed - cell phone only.

So, how did this come about?  I was in a business networking group with the bride for 2 years.  Every Wednesday morning for 3 years, I would get up at the butt crack of dawn, drive to a restaurant, go into the back meeting room, eat a fairly crappy breakfast, listen to people give the same 60 second summary of their job, listen to one of them give a 20 minute talk about their job, pass around a bucket so we could drop in referrals for each other, and then leave.  Somehow, over the course of those 3 years, you get to know people.  A little at a time at first.  But over time, and over breakfast, you learn more and more about people - 5 minutes at a time.  It takes a long time, but it happens.  And then eventually, someone you have spent one brekfast a week with, decides to get married.  They decide that, although they are not “religious” or even “spiritual”, they want someone who is to do their wedding.  Then they think who they might know who is a “God guy” that would do their nuptuials.  Then they think of that guy who they spent every Wednesday morning with - the one who people kept asking to bless the food.  And that is when my phone rang.

Cause blessing food and performing a marriage is almost exactly the same thing right?  How different can it be?  All I had to do was stand up and say, “Dear Lord, thank you for this food bride and groom, and we ask that you bless the wedding to the nourishment of our bodies, and our bodies to your service.  Amen.”

It was a really interesting conversation when they called me.  They jumped right in to tell me they were getting married and that they wanted me to do the wedding.  That transitioned immediately into qualifying clauses and apologies about their lack of “religiosity”.  But they told me that they really wanted me and my God there that day.

Now, to be fair, I told them that I was not going to pretend that I didn’t think God was an important part of marriage.  And they said, “well, how about this - are you familiar with Monty Python?”  Now, I was not really sure how this was relevant in the least, but I am never one to pass up an opportunity to quote that particular troupe of comedic genius, so I said, “of course I am.”  Then they asked me if I had ever seen The Quest for the Holy Grail.

I responded by quoting large sections of the movie.  That seemed to make a connection.  So, then they made me a proposition.  They said, and I quote, “How about this.  You make a couple of references to Holy Grail, and you can do your Jesus thing.”

How could I possibly not be touched by that?  It worked for me.

So I married them good and did my Jesus thing.  It was a happy occasion, we didn’t bicker and argue over who killed who.

...Comment [1]

So, I was at the taping of Marriage Uncensored with Dave and Christie this last week.  I have not been at a TV taping since my 5th anniversary when Ferf and I made it to a David Letterman show in New York.  Now that was a great taping.  David Letterman was a hero of mine when I was young…what can I say, I was in my college years in the early 90’s.  Top 10 lists were a staple of my formative years.  I was legally able to drink and Letterman was new to the late night air-waves.  It was a beautiful communion.

But I digress.  I was in the sound studio last week as Dave and Christie interviewed Dr. Garry Smalley and Ted Cunningham, authors of the book The Language of Sex.

Now, at this point I could digress into my lovely wife’s opinion of the book - “spectacularly mediocre”, I think was her phrase, but that, like David Letterman, while amusing and intriguing, is not the point of this post.  The point of the post is the TV show (at least ostensibly).

SO I was there.  The studio is amazing.  It seats about 80 max.  The stage is freaking awesome.  Honestly, you would think that it is a Hollywood sound stage.  Anyways, enough gooshing about the studio, I am starting to sound like a 14 year old girl - which I can assure you, I am not.  But the show is impressive.  They even have audience handlers - people who make the experience fun and interactive for folks in the audience.  I think their names were Wayne and Jayne. (yep, real names, though I could have used them in the spirit of this blog and you would have thought that I had made that up.  Seriously, you would have.)
(as a side note, and in the interest of full disclosure, Ferf was with me at the taping)
So right as the taping starts, Smalley and Cunningham start responding as Dave and Christie begin peppering them with questions about the book.  And since the topic was “sex”, the audience was already somewhat on edge.  You know how it is, when people know that someone is going to be discussing sex, we get all twitterpated with excitement while simultaneously becoming awkwardly sophmoric.  That was the ethos of the entire audience - with the possible exception of my wife who is a professional passion coach.  (she is used to people talking about sex in her presence all the time, shoot I know I do it every chance I get.  In fact I often go so far as to not only talk about sex in front of her, but to actually have it!)

So the questions start coming and the answers began coming and soon the off-hand comments and innunendo bean flying.  In fact, I thought to myself, maybe they ought to rename this show “Double Entendre with Dave and Christie”.  Now, I do want to mention that I am in no way trying to demean the show or the folks on it.  In fact, that night was easily one of the most enjoyable of my life.  I have laughed that hard almost never.  There was an off handed comment made about sex on stairs, and that became one of the constant jokes between sets.  That and one about edible chocolate.  I know, I know.  All chocolate is edible, but somewhere in the midst of the taping someone was talking about romance and so obviously chocolate came up.  And I think the idea of edibles was about to rear its head and the two got convoluted and thus edible chocolates were born.  Right there in the studio, and I was there to see it.  And now you know about them.  So next time you are thinking about having sex on your stairs (sucks for you if you own a rancher) make sure you bring your wife some edible chocolates.  (you know, that was WAY funnier in the moment in the studio.  Seriously.  There is was hysterical.  Here it’s barely blog worthy.  I don’t know what happened.)  Also, Dave made the comment - or made it was a confession - that he likes to call lingerie “units”.  (please don’t ask me to explain that.  I simply can’t.  But I did tell Ferf that next time she wears some, I am going to sing the marine corps running cadence.  I can’t help it - I love the show.  Anyway, suffice it to say that we have enough inside sex humor to last us a while.

SO - my question for you, loyal reader(s) - look at me going all interactive and web 2.0ish - is, are you willing to tell your favorite amusing inside joke/ double entendre?  And if it includes sex on stairs or units, you will lose all points on creativity.

I know that you have some.  Come on. Share them.  Don’t be shy, Lord knows this is only a blog - not a TV show.

Anyone?  Bueller?  Bueller?

...Comment [4]

SO last week we started doing the “church-shopping” thing. Having moved down here, we realized that we need to find a church family again. It’s been well over a year now since our home church shut down and we took a “sabbatical” from what I would politely refer to as organized religion. It’s time to get back into the proverbial swing of things. So we began the church shop. It’s a very weird thing to go church shopping - like one can shop for a church. I am not completely sure what, exactly, we are looking for. I think we have the opinion that “we’ll know it when we see it.” Whatever the crap that means. I used to make fun of folks for that kind of stuff. (In fact, I still do actually)

In my mind, I see myself walking into a church and looking for a menu over the altar. Then a greeter walks up to us (in this version they wear a polyester suit - matching pants and pull over shirt with some kind of matching hat - most likely, in warm earthy tones). They welcome me to the church and begin to go over the items that they are featuring that Sunday.

Greeter - “Welcome to the First Community Church of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. We are so pleased you’re here. We know that you have choices when it comes to corporate worship and we want to say thank you for choosing us. My name is Suzy and I’ll be your greeter today. If I may, I’d like to take a moment and educate you about the church. Exits are located throughout the church. We’ll be worshipping at about 30,000 feet today. As you can see from the holy signage above the stage, we have a lot of options from you to choose from - the children’s menu is one of our most robust options. If you watch closely, you will see that the options for the children rotate with a speed as close to the attention span of that age group as possible. We have arts and crafts, singing, a full playground, scripture memory, cookies and punch, video games featuring Jesus being victorious over Satan, as well as a large group of children from which your child can choose the people that will be her friends for many years to come. In fact, you have come at a very fortuitous time, because we have a pastor with children the same age as yours. So possibly, your child could grow up with pastor’s kids playing a major role in their development; or even having a pastor’s kid as a first (if not only) girlfriend / boyfriend. But there is more. Obviously, we have a plethora of options for adults as well. We tend to draw a particular demographic and personality style here at the church and should you meet those - not so much standards as generalities - I am sure you will find yourself meeting many many couples and families that believe exactly the same things you do in very similar ways ensuring that you have the opportunity to find, if not clone, friendships that will last as long as you attend here. In the mean time, please feel free to share your prayer requests with us when the offering comes by. You are not expected to tithe until you decide to make us your church home *thinks to self, “and we decide to accept you”*.  If you notice the board above, you’ll see that we have quite a few offerings for opportunity to serve. While you can mix and match on your own, please allow me to point out some of the more popular combos: 

1. Arts Combo - includes worship teams (both musicians and singers), drama, stage hand
2. Service Combo - stage hands, church set-up/take-down, sound booth and lighting team
3. Youth and Children - babysitting, art and craft leaders, song leaders, mentors, wednesday night leaders
4. Leadership - deacon, elder, lay leader, sunday school teacher, sounding board for emotionally needy people

Please know that while substitutions are allowed, we do somewhat frown on them as they constitute, what is in our mind, an unhealthy individualism that might not fit in here. *leans in a conspiratorially whispers, “you understand…”*

I am about to respond when right at this point the praise band begins playing the music that lets us know that it is time to enter the tabernacle of worship. The greeter disappears in a puff of smoke (or into a crowd of people..either way really).  Upon entering we are bombarded by sound, color and light all intensely studied and chosen to ensure that we feel a peace not experienced since leaving our mother’s womb. Each seat back has it’s own personal video screen and personal remote control. Thereby allowing one to view either the words of the music or a video specially designed to go with the song that was specifically chosen and ordered to achieve maximum emotional impact to ensure that you are “ushered into the throne room of God in a way that works best with your personal theology. Options for video include everything from dancers with tambourines and flags to bright sunscapes with clouds moving in the breeze, to images of children. (Also included are headphones incase the person next to you is making to much of a joyful noise unto the Lord. You can turn your personal volume up so that you are immersed in a full Quadraphonic Surround Sound experience - mimicking what is believed to be the full heaven-like vocal experience thereby encouraging folks that heaven really is where they want to be - where technology is cutting edge and the sound system really is out of this world.)

The pastor then comes out and provides us with a sermon that has just enough meat in it as to make you feel like you were fed, but not so much as to negatively impact the seekers in the crowd.  In fact, one of the option on the handset allows you to cross reference the socially acceptable illustrations used by the pastor with acutal Bible verses if you so choose - but that is not part of the basic experience.  In fact, the icon on the button is a shovel - one can only assume that it is a lightly veiled reference to “digging your own well”.  There is also a web surfing feature that allows for interactive bible searching (and comparison to allow you to check and see if the Bible says what the pastor says it says).

At the end of the sermon, there is transitional music that is intentionally inspiring as as to work seemlessly with the call to action that is the offering.  That is followed by a song appropriately celebratory in nature to show how thankful we are that people gave so selflessly. 

The sermon ends with a little homily and the screens on the seat backs transition to a logo and web address of the church and people begin sreaming out of the multiple exit points checking the text messages they were receiving in church to confirm the lunch plans they made during the offering.

At this point, I pull out a form that my wife created in Excel that allows us to properly check off all the things that make church “good” for us.  All the things that make me feel like I could call this a church home and properly be overwhelmed by the activities and expectations that will be heaped upon me by signing the form that confirms my membership for time and all eternity.  Should the church score in the 90th percentile or higher, then we can come back another time to do a more detailed analysis and see if I can pick the place apart a little more.  If the church makes it through 3 full visits without offending some internal flag that I may or may not even be aware of, then I will commit to becoming a “regular attender” with a view for potential membership, which will be fully dependant upon leadership of the church recognizing me and all the myriad of giftings that I bring to the table without pushing me in an inappropriate manner to engage those gifts for their benefit too quickly.  If I can keep my expectations high, while limiting theirs of me to a socially acceptable minimum, then this just might be the place that God has called me to connect.

NOW, while I meant that to be tongue in cheek and rife with sarcasim, I feel that I might have edged ever so slightly over the line into conviction and that is not a place that any of us aspire to be, so I will move on with the the point of my story…we went to a local church.

To be fair, the Muppet is only 4 as of last week, and so the last year of being outside the formal church has left her a little behind in the what to expect department with regards to “big church”.   Thus, when we visited a church (as opposed to shopping for one) last Sunday, and found that they had cancelled sunday school for the summer (but neglected to inform anyone through things like….THEIR FREAKING WEBSITE - I am not bitter…) the Muppet found herself sitting on mommy and daddy’s laps with nothing to do since we had not brought things like colors because they handn’t mentioned on their freaking website that we might want to consider such things.  They could have just posted a little note somewhere on the site that was not instusive…like on the very large and colorful section that trumpted their amazing children’s programs…again, I am not bitter.  Anyway, there we are enjoying a church service and possibly checking the place out for further visitation potential when they beging serving communion at the end of the worship set. 

Now, this was not a bad thing by any account, but it became fairly clear to me that the Muppet’s personal church history from the time when she was really able to discern and/or interact with what was going on around her did not include communion. (Previously, communion was alwas served after the children we released to sunday school.  To keep the repitition to a minimum, please refer to earlier comments about us being uninformed about the facts surrounding sunday school’s summer cancellation.)  So while the Muppet perches herself on Ferf’s lap, there suddeny appears a lady holding a try full of Ritz crackers.  At this point my extensive personal knowledge of liturgical, evangelical and charasmatic traditions regarding the eccumenical ordinance of communion kicked in and I began a deep and passionate self evaluation to determine if I was in the right place and frame of mind to partake in the sacrament of eucharist. 

At the same time, I was serruptitiously eyeing the Muppet to make sure that she didn’t take a handful of crackers or put the whole tray in her lap so she could eat them at her leisure.  I am not one for forcing the finer points of understanding on an almost 4 year old, but at the same time, I don’t want her causing a massive scene by crying that she didn’t get enough crackers…it’s the whole “no one can eat just one” thing except with crackers and in church.  So you could say I was in the moment “doubly minded”.  But the Muppet grabbed her one cracker and passed the tray along with no real problems.  She even said thank you to the lady who handed it to Ferf and “helped” pass it along to me.  In the interest of full disclosure, she did eat her cracker immediatey and then tell mommy that it was okay if she wet ahead and ate hers too if she wanted, but when Ferf softly told her that she would wait for a little bit, she took that in stride and seemed content.  That might have been partly due to the fact that the wine juice was being passed down the aisle at that point, but whatever, she was good.  And the wine juice portion of the service went the same as the cracker.  She downed hers like a fraternity pledge and encouraged mom to do likewise, but seemed content when Ferf deffered until everyone “did this in rememberance” all at one time. 

The Muppet seemed somewhat impressed by the mass consuption happening all at once, but did not make any loud or disruptive comments.  She even stacked all our little plastic cups together and put them in the little holder on the back of the chair.  (I wonder how much longer we will be doing communion in plastic cups…is there leetching of bad chemicals into the juice?  Will somebody eventually name God as a co-defendant in a lawsuit when they determine that some weird form of cancer might have been caused by leetching into communion juice through plastic cups?  And if so, should I be upset?  As a join heir with Christ isn’t that my inheritance that those greedy schmucks are really going after!?)  But I digress…so the communion time passes and the cups are put into their little cup holder place and there is a brief lull as the guest speaker is introduced - which really makes church shopping, not that we were doing that mind you, pointless in the summer.  How would I one know what a church is “really like” if you don’t hear the normal / regular guy preaching.  What if I someone really like this guy, but it turns out that he doesn’t really preach here.  He has a church in Alberta.  Where does that leave me them?  Anyway, as the guy is being introduced the Muppet turns to Ferf and says, “Mom, that was really sweet of that lady to bring us a little snack.  I appreciate that.” 

At this point Ferf is almost wetting herself in a silent full body laugh - from her waist down she is still as a statue, but her shoulders and head are in spasmotic convulsions because the Muppet is looking at me and totally unaware that she has uttered one of the more amusing statements ever.  I however, smile sweetly at the Muppet and with short and age appropriate but Biblically accurate explanations of everything from the last supper to transubstantiation going through my mind, cup her face and say, “It sure was sweetheart.”

Yep, I gotta find a church that has some serious leeway in childhood theology and how it is explained.  I realize that the Muppet isn’t on any seminary short lists at this point.  She does know God and prays to Him.  She knows that Jesus loves her.  She has that part all down.  But she explains it a little differently than a lot of folks.  Differently than I did at that age.

My nephew ColbyT for instance can wax eloquently about Jesus.  Over Christmas we were driving in a church van with Marvin to see some Christmas lights and such and Marvin invokes ColbyT with a question regarding Jesus (which was appropriate to the season for sure) and the little guy (3 years old) busts out with a well spoken explaination of Jesus being God’s son, dying on the cross and being in Heaven.  This is all perfectly correct and absolutely true.  At that point Ferf and I exchaned looks and giggled between ourselves hoping that no one tried that out on the Muppet, because we were fully aware of how she would have answered that inquiry.  “Jesus is a super hero who lives in my heart and comes out to save the day.”

We knew this because that is how she explains it to us on a pretty consistent basis.  And, honestly, I am pretty comfortable with that explaination as well.  Sure, it might get a snicker or two from the kids in sunday school, but tell me which part of that is incorrect…

Jesus is a superhero and they serve little snacks in big church.  I can’t wait to hear her explain the holy spirit and the Trinity.

...Comment [4]

Yeah, I know…I wish I could write that and even pretend to mean it about me.  But alas, that will probably not be my fate.  The Muppet however, she has a chance.  She might not be there yet, but she “writes” with a refreshing honesty and understanding that most of us could learn from.

We went to dinner with some friends the other night.  While we were there, the Muppet took some markers and drew pictures all over the paper napkins that were on the table.  Then she folded them up and told us that she had written a few books, so that later we could read her some stories - since we keep forgetting to put her books in the car.  (She simply cannot understand why I refuse to read to her while I am driving.  This girl is all about multi-tasking.  If you can do multiple things for her enjoyment, amusement, comfort or pleasure all at one time, then why on earth would you forgo that opportunity??)

So anyways, fast forward a few days later and we are again driving in the car. (I am starting to realize how much time we spend in the car.  And I am thinking about the current price of gas.  And I am becoming depressed and poor for the same reasons…  I think gas prices are outrageous - seriously.  I saw a billboard the other day that said, “It’s official.  Beer is cheaper than gas, so drink don’t drive.”  I kinda chuckled until I realized that it was right, at least in the economic portion of the logic, if not the action)  Anyways, we are back in the car, guzzling fossil fuel at an alarming rate and exponentially expanding our personal carbon footprint, when the Muppet sees me move the napkins  her books out of the way because they are in the way of me picking up my warm and delicious brew of coffee that Ferf had made in her new bodum with some wonderful beans from Bean Scene Coffee House in Kelowna, BC - possibly the greatest coffee in the known world.  I do not know whether or not God drinks coffee, but I am sure that if He does, He drinks Amelia’s from Bean Scene.  So when the Muppet sees her literary works being pushed aside, possibly with some contempt, she reacts as one would expect.  She demands that said literary works be given the respect they are so deserving of as works of literature, and that I read them to her - possibly as some form of penance for soiling her masterpiece by putting it under my cup o’ heaven. It is at this point that I once again try to explain to her that I cannot read and drive at the same time.  She again is less than impressed that I will not even try.  I cannot seem to be able to mention to her that she as drawn what can best be described as hearts and squiggly lines on a paper napkin with dry erase markers, and that as good as I am, I cannot “read” that.  I think it would break her heart…so I say, “Mommy’s not driving.  She could read it!!”

I suppose you can imagine the look that cut across the front of the car at me while simultaneously being overwhelmed by the squeal of delight from the back of the car.  It was like a relational flash-bang grenade.  Ferf provided the flash, and the Muppet donated the bang.  Luckily, I am a skilled driver and I was able to keep the car on the road.  While Ferf was somehow able to convince the Muppet that when an author publishes something, they are always the first one to do a reading of their own work.  Usually in bookstore/coffeeshop.  And since we had both “books” and coffee in the car, it was like a moving venue for her first public reading.  Believe it or not, the Muppet bought it.

So she takes the napkin book from Ferf and opens it up with the care of a curator opening an ancient tome and then, I kid you not, she clears her throat, and begins to read the book.  It goes exactly like this:

“God, you are the strongest guy in town.”

Seriously, that is her opening sentence.  It’s more like a statement than a scene setting introduction, but she is breaking with tradition and branching out on her own - that, my friend, is what ground-breaking writers do.  In 8 words she has done quite a bit.

1. she establishes that she communicates directly to God
2. she establishes that she understands God well enough that she can do some compare and contrast work on Him with confidence
3. she communicates that she feels close enough to God to use personal reference pronouns such as “guy”
4. she communicates her understanding that God is everywhere including “in town” meaning she sees Him as a local presence in her life and not some far away untouchable deity
5. she allows us to grasp the inherent strength of God by using a physical object of comparison, namely other “guys” in town whom He is stronger than
6. she boldly and immediately brings the religious/faith nature of her writing to bear on the reader, forcing them to accept that this is important to her as a writer
7. she establishes that this is a first person narrative as opposed to some unknown third party narrator who may or may not have an emotionally vested interest in the story itself
8. she begins by using statements as forces of fact.  There is no room for ambiguity or personal interpretations in her opinions

Not a bad start for a 3 year old.  Powerful, compelling, it draws the reader in.  I was literally twitterpating in anticipation of the second sentence.  My focus was more on the rear view mirror than on my driving.  I saw her sitting all strapped into her car seat (like an astronaut really.  A 5 point harness might be a little bit of overkill, but I would rather be safe than sorry.)  Her head was down, almost bowed as in prayer, her little hands holding her “book” open with both palms up to support it, her lips moving like she was sounding out the words in her head before she read aloud.  Then, she spoke the second sentence.  A compund sentence at that!  I was in awe of her skills!  The second sentence (and third technically if you count a compound sentence as 2, which you might…either way really is correct I suppose.  I mean I don’t really know if one is more correct than the other.  MS Word has a word count function, but not a sentence count function so I couldn’t even check there - not that Bill Gates is the fnal say on grammatical correctness, but we all do use his spell check program as the oracle of all things spelling don’t we??  YIKES!  I am rabbit-trailing…

So, the second sentence that she reads aloud as if to an audience of thousands, is:

“And You love me, and sometimes I love you.  The end.”  Alright, so “the end” was part of it, but I don’t think it counts as a sentence.  It’s more of an announcement really…anyways, back to the next, and evidently last, sentence she wrote.  I have to admit I was a bit startled by it.  It was in many ways one of the more honest statements about God that I have ever heard.  But then I wondered where she got it from.  I mean, I am never that honest about God, so she simply couldn’t have gotten it from me.  ERRR…what I mean is, that this is not language that we use around the homefront, so she must have picked it up from somewhere else.  I immediately looked at Ferf (not so much in an accusatory manner mind you, though I did notice that she had immediately looked at me in a manner that implied she wasn’t accusing me, but that she was open to the idea that it might have been me she got it from) and then I burst out laughing.  I couldn’t stop.  I thought it was one of the funniest things I had ever heard.  When I finally got myself under control, I asked the Muppet (in a round about way so as not to make her think she had done anything wrong) why she “wrote” that.  She told me she didn’t know, and then promptly re-read the story, this time substituting “and I love you too” as the final sentence.  No explanation of why the change, or even an admission that there had been a change.  Just God is the strongest guy in town, He loves me and I love Him.” Pure and simple.

I have to admit, that a part of me was very happy that she changed the story to fit with socially acceptable theology.  It is much more “right” that way.  But, there was/is a part of me that embraced the fact that a child can be more honest than we can.  Her first version rang as true for me.  Sure, I ought to love Him all the time, but when I am being real honest (you know, on a semi- anonymous blog in cyberspace) I can admit with some embarrassment, that I occasionally fall more into the Muppet’s branch of relationship.  He loves me and sometimes I love Him.  There, I said it.  There is more honesty in my 3 year old’s story telling than there is in mine.

Again, there is a part of me that wants to sit her down and have a talk about how we should always love God and how important that is.  Then there is a part of me that thinks: (a) she is 3 years old and understands about as much as a 3 year old can about Jesus - sure at that age kids can regurgitate information and Bible stories and that is a good thing, but true understanding comes over time and (b) I would rather my daughter have an truly honest relationship with Christ.  So we talked a bit that night about God and loving Him and she asked all the good questions about not being able to see him or touch him and how do you really love things you can’t see.  It was a great conversation.  I realize that it is my honor and responsibility to teach the Muppet all about God and Jesus,  and that I get to raise her up in a Christian home with all the requisite values and such.  But I also know that at some future point she will have to decide for herself about a relationship with God.  That her faith will have to be her faith and not just that of mine and Ferf’s.  That is when she will have to decide how she is really going to write that story’s ending.  Until then, I leave it as one of the most honest stories I have ever been read.

So, as is, it might not make the NY Times bestseller list.  In fact, as is, it might get boycotted by large denominations in the States (which of course, could put it on the NY Times bestseller list).  But I think she’s got the stuff to be one heck of a writer.

I can’t wait to read her stuff.  Her’s is going to be one heck of a story.  (of course, at this very moment, Ferf thinks we are going to hell because we are failures as parents, but I figure we ought to wait until the Muppet is at least 5 before making such sweeing judgements of ourselves.  If she hasn’t made a difference in the world by then, THEN we can start feeling guilty.)

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So I was walking through the thought fields over at The Blog o’ Seth the other day when I ran across his Friday book review post. After all it was Friday and he was reviewing a book. The title makes it sound like those two things happen every week, but only one of them actually does. (Give me a little credit, I would never tell you if I went to some blog every week simply to read book reviews.) Now normally at the Blog de Seth you would find, and I quote “missives that enkindle his psyche”. That alone drew me to read his blog (had to cause the title - while direct and to the point, did not draw me in by its nature alone). I have rarely heard folks use the word missive properly, much less in such a context. I SIMPLY HAD TO READ. Then I find out that my friend is Orthodox. (there is this really funny inside joke about “Orthodicks” that I made once to him in a group and it is such a shame that you wouldn’t get with out the context…sigh) Anyways, after the Theology on Tap night in Vancouver a while back I realized that there is much to be pondered and thoughtfully considered about Orthodoxy (as well as Catholicism actually) and that was another point in favor of reading the Seth de jour. Plus, he is part of this Virtual Office that I virtually work in and as he is co-CEO we have had occasion to interact virtually fairly often. PLUS, he is on facebook and keeps me fairly amused with the constant changes to his profile - it’s like he’s a new person every day. PLUS is the first person to ever buy me a scorpio drink, and I still don’t know what that is.

So Seth lives in Atlanta, but is by lineage a northerner in reality. A Tribe fan too. Neither of these things score him points, but I like to think that I am above making quick judgments on people just because they were born in an unfortunate place and they have poor taste in ball teams - also, I do have to confess to a secret love for Chief WaHoo. How cool is he?

All this to say, that baseball allegiances aside, this Seth blogger is a decent fellow. It would be a shame to kill him. So I read his blog. And I get theologically and philosophically challenged. And sometimes I just get stunned. This book review post was one of those stunning times. (Some of you may have already read it. I do put those links on the side because they are worth going to. I would expect dedicated passengers to take advantage of all the amenities on the Maru including links - but only after fully partaking of my missives first.) But just reading it yourself offers you none of my personal opinion and perspective and hell, that’s what we come here for right? Well, yeah, screw you. It’s what I come here for. (I kid I kid, you’re a big star. You’re a big star. You’re like the star of “American Idol.”)

So the gist of his post was really to give the rest of us a glimpse into this young author.

One of the quotes from her book that he posted reads thusly: Always, always, there was the obsession-as my friend Lynn puts it- “the need to find someone who loves as passionately as you do,” who has the full force of emotions that you have, directed towards you, so for once you are the god of their idolatry…so that you are cherished, treasured, loved.

I was personally blown away by that. This girl was 17 when she wrote this book! Seven - frickin - teen. God I hate people who write better than I do…who have more depth to their soul than I do…who can say what we are all feeling and thinking with better linguistic panache than can I. Sure this means, by default, that I hate a large portion of the planet’s population - but I really love the rest of them, so karmic-ly it all balances out. Which would mean more if I were like Buddhist, for sure - but today I take what I can get. I am digressing here aren’t I? Ok, back to this being what it is…a personal opinion based explication of a single sentence from this chick’s book.

I think that we as Christians (or those of us who are - I am not assuming anything as passengers of all faiths are welcome here) are often a little too tentative in our word usage. I personally love the imagery and connotations she evokes with the idea that in love we long to be the “god of their idolatry.” That phrase will offend the sensibilities of far too many people. I don’t think she is saying that she want someone to make a small gilded statue/figurine of her with a suction cup on the bottom so it can be affixed with equal ease on a personal alter as well as on the dashboard of their car, thus providing continuing opportunity for the full range of “bowing” possibilities: from full body prostrating to quick genuflecting in front of her sculpted form.

I think she means all the connotations of that. That someone would “worship” at the alter of us in terms of love. We long for that - all of us. I know that I am continually working on new and somewhat creative ways of letting Ferf know how much I love her, and she is doing the same. Every time I tell her that I love her - which is honestly a dozen or more times a day easy - I am “placing a love offering at the altar of my love for her” or “making a deposit in the love account in our marriage bank” or “planting seeds of love that will grow into a marital garden.” Ok, that last one was WAY over the top, and I would never actually use that of my own volition, but I did hear a man say that once (yes, I said man - it shocked me too, in fact it was worse for me cause I was standing there in front of him. You just had to read it and could run to a trashcan and vomit and then come back to finish this and no one would be the wiser. Me, I had to nod subtly to the man in a way that implied I was tracking with him on his badly derailing thought train and act like this train wreck of similes was not going to have a huge casualty list that included me suffering from acid reflux for the rest of my life from a repeated forced swallowing of bile while he continued on in his monologue). My point is simply that this particular simile that she uses is about as perfect as it could be - and that perfection scares people. I think it is that we feel guilty about wanting that from someone. We couch it in terms like idolatry and outwardly blanch at the thought that we want someone to make us the single most important priority that they could ever have and feign horror at the thought of it. We might even cower under the weight of those dreaded words “thou shall have no other gods before me” and part of us might even believe that there is the slightest chance that we are going straight to hell (not passing go and not collecting $200) for even considering the fact that we might possibly want this in the least little bit.

Let me be the first to say aloud, “THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT I WANT!!!!” Call me arrogant. Call me a horrible person. Call me shallow. Call me whatever you want. But you can also call me honest. Having a 17 year old girl say it breaks the seal for all of us. It`s like the little kid yelling out “THE EMPEROR IS NAKED!!!” Isn`t it time that we admitted it and stopped pretending that this is not the deepest desire of our hearts (outside of loving Jesus of course, for those who feel the need to insert a Sunday School answer whenever they can). I look forward to reading the whole book to see what else she says. Sure I`ll hate it - and her the whole way through just because she is a punk kid with no life experience who has no f-ing idea what she`s talking about but still says it so much better than me. But even with that, I will read the book. Or at least wait until Seth does and tells me what else is in it. I`m not above blatant laziness either!

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For those who are newer to joy-riding on the Maru, I want to link you back to a previous post I did (simply for reference). My father’s day post. I do that simply for background so, in case you are interested, you will know who I am talking about when I talk about my Uncle Bobby.

I just got a phone call from my brother who is keeping me in the loop with regards to Uncle Bobby and the health issues he and his family are struggling with. Uncle Bobby had a kidney transplant some few years back. As anyone who knows anything about transplants of any kind knows, health is forever a major concern for those with organ transplants - not to mention spontaneous organ rejection. Recently, Uncle Bobby has been having some issues with his heart (not the organ he had replaced, but a fairly vital one nonetheless). They were scheduled to go to the doctor last Friday for some minor procedure regarding that, but when they go there his creatinine levels were high (2.6 - for reference a normal value is 0.8 to 1.4 ) so they had to postpone the procedure until Monday. But on Saturday, his blood pressure was high 215 over 105 - that and the high creatinine level are both idicators of a possible rejection episode of the transplanted kidney. So he was taken to the emergency room in Texarkana Saturday.

Since this happened,he went back to the transplant hospital in Little Rock yesterday to get checked out. There they found that the issue is not a rejection of the organ, but rather a reaction to the fact that he had an aneurysm near or in his heart. That was causing the high blood pressure which was causing the high creatinine levels.

Here is the current situation:

• it would appear that he will indeed lose the kidney and have to go back on dialysis
• before they can even deal with the kidney, they have to deal with the aneurysm
• to deal with the aneurysm, they have to run a line up through the valves in his heart
• doing this could conceivably dislodge plaque and that could cause a stroke while he is on the table
• all this has to be done on a patient who has been on immunosuppresion drugs that reduce the activation or efficacy of the immune system because of the transplant

I am hoping that this gives you an understanding of how much I would like the prayers of any of my readers who are inclined to pray. Pray for wisdom. Pray for courage. Pray for healing. Pray for him. Pray for us. Pray for everyone who has to face these types of things. Pray hard and pray often - anytime you think about me, this, or him. I would appreciate it more than you know and more than I could properly communicate.

If you don’t pray - think about starting, it helps. Otherwise think positive thoughts or whatever it is you do if you don’t pray. I’ll keep you updated as I hear things.

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I got an email a little while back from a friend of mine, Roomdog is his name. Okay, so actually the email came from his wife, cause he never emails me. OKAY, so actually the email was sent to my wife. But whatever, the point is that Roomdog and I totally keep up with each other through our wives. Guys understand that this is the same thing as direct communication most of the time. This whole exchange could easily have been a phone call between us, and since this is almost the same as that, we can get the same results without expending all the energy - good for us! Therefore, I could have started this post by saying I was “talking with my old college roommate the other day” and really it would have been, for all intents and purposes, the same thing.

That being said, this story came to my attention. The story is about Roomdog’s eldest son Joshey.

Now, at 9, Joshey is way too old for him to think it is cool that I, or anyone else really, still calls him Joshey, but since it’s my blog and he never reads it anyway - he is henceforth Joshey for the purposes of this post (and any future posts relating to him or his family - so says me). Now that we have the formalities out of the way, I continue…

The gist of the story is that Joshey went on a missions trip with his youth group. This alone is not really blog worthy as everybody does that when they are in a youth group. (if any of my readers did NOT do a missions trip while in a church youth group, I can only offer my condolences that your youth pastor obviously sucked at his job and probably only went into the ministry because he was afraid of failing in the real world and was only using the position of youth pastor as his required service time before he could get his own pulpit and preach from a position of total authority and dreamt at night of being lead pastor in a church that was not elder led and he was the ecclesiastical equivalent of a benevolent dictator. That or the church didn’t have the budget for a trip - either one really.) As I said, the offspring of someone I know doing the mission trip thing is really not that exciting. Sure other people might blog about such things, and then send out a mass email to everyone related to said kid mostly so they could pump up their stats on how many people visit their blog in a vain attempt to substantiate their fragile belief in their own writing skills. HOWEVER THAT IS NOT ME. I have to have something of substance or I don’t bother. Short posts of simple pictures that I found amusing notwithstanding, of course. This story actually found me touched by it and so I share it with you. Word for word (mostly) with my thoughts on it afterwards…

Joshey, age nine, went to Reynosa, Mexico with a team from his church last week. He, like the other 20 people on the team, helped feed children and teach VBS in the colonia where they always go. The hope is that as they keep returning to the same area, which is basically a subdivision of low income housing in Reynosa, they will build ongoing relationship and with that, rapport that allows Jesus to be revealed. So mostly they go and do their best to love people.

When Grace Vineyard started taking these trips to Mexico two summers ago, the youth pastor went on the first trip with her brother, who was 11 at the time. After that trip they decided to invite kids to participate whenever they went to Mexico. Like any other team members, they have to fill out an application and find a way to finance the trip. This summer they had nine kids go. The youth pastor likes kids, so it is natural for her to work with them right alongside of adults. Their church has long invited kids to participate in whatever ministry is going on, so it makes sense for kids to go with them

I quote from her email now:

Someone at some point in last week’s trip mentioned that some fathers in the colonia don’t stick around and others don’t treat their families very well, leaving few families in tact. I’m not sure when it happened, but I remember it being said.

Josh listened when that someone spoke, and somewhere in his nine-year-old heart, he caught a glimpse of his Heavenly Father’s heart. I know this because I heard Josh pray.

Every night we debriefed the day as a team, ending the debrief with a time of prayer. Anyone could pray. Josh’s prayer one night was that the boys in the colonia would grow up to be fathers who stayed. He prayed that they would love their kids, that they wouldn’t leave, and that they would care for their families.

I keep thinking about Josh’s prayer. It has made my eyes well up every time I think about it.

My brother Jay was on the trip with us. He and I stood in the doorway of the classroom where kids were attending VBS one afternoon, a toddler in my arms. I passed him to Jay at some point, and the little boy’s reaction made me wonder if he’d ever been held by a man. His eyes widened, and he cried out as he reached for me. He was happy to play peek-a-boo with Jay with my baseball cap, but that was about it.

Often in the church when we think of missions and mission we talk about big picture stuff, but sometimes it’s the details that help me to grasp the reality of Jesus and the way he changes the world. Josh’s prayer was for a kind of redemption that rewrites the DNA of whole families; that rewrites the DNA of little boys who grow up fatherless into men who stay, into men who love their kids. And this is what Jesus does when he gets inside of our lives. He puts faith inside of one little boy to pray a prayer to change the lives of hundreds of others.

And that prayer put faith inside of me.

I think that is pretty amazing. How is it that a 9 year old can grasp truths that we as adults can so easily miss? For him it was a pretty easy equation - the dad’s there leave, the kids need their dads, so pray that these kids would grow up and not leave their kids. (I am sure there is a mathematical equation for that, like knowing A to be factual and considering B to be truth, it stands to reason that C is the obvious need - but I always sucked at math and evidently this is not inherently obvious to even the most casual observer, because if it were, the youth pastor would not have felt compelled to tell the story and I would not have been morally obligated to share it with you) Amazing how children can strip away all the political and cultural facades and just see the truth behind all the bullshit. Somebody has to break the cycle and God Himself needs to step in and help these boys, while they are still boys, see the role of fatherhood for what it is and what it entails - even if they don’t experience it themselves. They can be more than their fathers were.

I think this is what struck me most about this. The truth behind the story. We are, all of us, to an extent products of our environment - our family history, our social networks, our choice of friends, etc. We base so much of what we judge to be right and wrong on a moral code that is set through so many things that we have very little say in (at least to begin with). All of us need to have someone praying for us that we would grow up to love our families and that we would not leave. Someone praying into the very fabric of our souls that we would see the truth and not simply give into the culture that we are surrounded by. That we could be counter-culture when the situation calls for it. That we would be different from our history where we need to be. That we can step outside our place and our own understanding and that God would step in and shine just enough light, through divine appointments and interventions - maybe even through kids on missions trips - that we could walk on the the straight and narrow path and make the world better for all those who follow than it was left for us by those who went before. I hope to God that I have people that I don’t know praying that very thing into my life and my situation and my culture. Somewhere I hope there is a Joshey that doesn’t even know me, but prays truths about me and for me and for everyone like me.

That is redemptive enough to make my blog every time.

And if the story wasn’t enough to touch your heart, they sent a picture of the kid who liked to play peek-a-boo:

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SO I had a coffee with a friend of mine the other month and we were talking about the concept of prayer. You know, the old debate about does it do any good…prayer isn’t for God, it’s for you; prayer doesn’t change things, it changes you; and any other number of potentially ponderous and truth-laden yet both trite and pathetically sunday-school sounding one liners about the topic.

I am always amazed at our collective ability and deep seated desire to take something as mystical and conversation-birthing as prayer and “distill” it down into a bumper sticker. Like somehow anything that has to do with the maker of all creation can be summed up in 8 words or less and be witty as well as pithy. Because everyone knows that on the 8th day God didn’t really rest, he started coming up with droll little marketing slogans for Himself for t-shirts, bumper stickers and sermon illustrations. But I digress…

We were talking about prayer and as many aspects of it as we could think of. How do we do it? Why do we do it? When do we do it? How many of those little slogans about prayer are really accurate? Having been brought up in church, I am well acquainted with all (or at least most) of the past and current trendy thoughts on it. Like the book of Acts is a great little acronym Adoration Confession Thanksgiving Supplication. And that is the order and substance of how we ought to pray. Then there are those who think we should be “praying the Bible” cause God’s words are way better than ours, so lets pray His back to Him cause logically He is MUCH more inclined to even listen to, much less respond to, His own words than to ours. Of course there is also the culturally understood Are you there God? It’s me Margaret style of prayer also. I know lots of folks who lean heavily towards the “go into your prayer closet” style (which obviously means that they have way more storage space available to them in their house if they can have a closet empty and so dedicated). I know quite a few who subscribe to the early morning “quite time” or “personal devotion”. I have always been a little leery of personal devotion. I mean, I like me and all - after all, what’s not to like - but not sure that I would go so far as to say that I am devoted to myself personally. (I would always end up with that song from Grease going through my head, and I have to believe that this would somehow take away from any praying). Again, I digress…

Being the believer in all things internet that I am, I went to a source that simply cannot be denied - Wikipedia to ask about prayer. I think that this is almost too easy for us. There was a time that you had to go on a quest for knowledge. A difficult journey that required much of you. Like in those books by Piers Anthony the Xanth novels - where you could only go ask the oracle ONE question in your entire lifetime and to get to him you had to overcome 3 challenges that could end your life (thus ensuring that you did not come to ask a frivolous question). But now-a-days one can simply bring up Wikipedia and have the knowledge of all the known universes at their fingertips. That has got to piss off those guys who had the big library in Alexandria I mean seriously. Anyway, having overcome all three challenges with barely a scratch to show for it, I entered the realm of the oracle Wikipedia and asked it about prayer and this was what I got:

The great spiritual traditions offer a wide variety of devotional acts. There are morning and evening prayers, graces said over meals, and reverent physical gestures. Some Christians bow their heads and fold their hands. Native Americans dance. Some Sufis whirl. Hindus chant. Orthodox Jews sway their bodies back and forth. Quakers keep silent. Among these methodologies are a variety of approaches to understanding prayer:

• The belief that the finite can actually communicate with the infinite;
• The belief that the infinite is interested in communicating with the finite;
• The belief that the prayer is listened to and may or may not get a response;
• The belief that prayer is intended to inculcate certain attitudes in the one who prays, rather than to influence the recipient;
• The belief that prayer is intended to train a person to focus on the recipient through philosophy and intellectual contemplation;
• The belief that prayer is intended to enable a person to gain a direct experience of the recipient;
• The belief that prayer is intended to affect the very fabric of reality itself;
• The belief that the recipient expects or appreciates prayer

So I got that going for me…which is nice. We also have the trendy 24-hour house of prayer, moments of silence, meditation, chanting, prayer beads, prayer wheels, fasting, contemplation, prayer cloths, etc. (seriously, I could go on…I shite thee not)

SO, WTF is up with prayer? Don’t get me wrong my friends, I pray. I am a prayer. I encourage others to pray. I won’t go so far as to say that I pray without ceasing - because, depending on your personal take on prayer, it might be difficult if not impossible to write this post and pray at the same time; while others of you may have no problem thinking that I can do both simultaneously. In fact, some of you might be praying while you read this - and of those that are doing that, I can only assume that most of you are probably specifically praying for me. And make no mistake, I will happily receive that.

While all of that mostly likely could have gone without saying, I said it.  I figure lots of what I say could go without saying, but then this would be a really short post - in fact it would be a short blog.  But I want to make sure that when you punch your ticket on the Maru that you get your money’s worth (if valued only in a per letter basis).

So, what’s the deal with prayer?  Is it more for us that God?  Does it change things?  Does it actually change us?  Does it simply make us feel better (I am assuming that it does in fact make you feel better, cause it usually does me)?  I leave this as an opened string o’ questions and invite discussion and thoughts.  I really have no solid opinion, but I am more than willing to hear yours.  I am a practicing prayer for sure, but I know that it is often as much about obedience as it is about substance.  Sometimes it is cathartic release.  Sometimes I see real answers (at least I clock them as such).  Sometimes I feel them bouncing off the ceiling and hitting my occasionally bowed head.  Sometimes I do it aloud.  Sometimes I do it silently.  Sometimes I am very humble.  Sometimes I cuss a lot.  Sometimes I am thankful and sometimes I am pissed off.  Sometimes I think I understand and sometimes I figure I know next to nothing.

But my buddy summed it up better than I could on that day over coffee.  HE said that for him, prayer is sitting in embarrassed silence before the Lord.  Amen.

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