Our household is embarking on another great adventure of sorts, or at least a pretty major undertaking. See, we've been living in this place for 10 years, and frankly it was high time to update things. The carpets, which weren't the highest quality to begin with, are in bad shape, with 10 years worth of kids and puppy. The countertops were rather pathetic to begin with. The appliances were wearing out - we'd already had to replace the fridge.
Frankly, we had planned on doing all of this about 4 years ago. We had purchased some beautiful hardwood flooring - enough to do the entire downstairs. Since the project was going to be starting soon, and we weren't supposed to store it outside or even in the garage, we stacked the boxes of flooring up in the living room. Then my business hit a lull, and we've been bumping along in existence mode ever since, only now reaching the point where we could afford to actually move ahead. So for 4 years there's been this pile of boxes sitting in the living room, staring at me accusatorially.
So the primary work so far has been preparing for the startup. I'm not going to pretend to be Mr. Handyman - we're hiring a contractor to do all of the actual work. But before they can come in to do the work, we've had to get the place ready. They'll move the major furniture around, but all of the rest of the stuff had to go. And OH MY! What a lot of stuff!
It's Sunday morning, they're coming to start in earnest tomorrow. During a conversation with my wife this morning, it began to dawn on me that the whole process is a pretty apt analogy to my relationship with God.
Before we can start to rip up the carpets and vinyl in preparation for the new hardwoods and tile, we had to clear all of the crap out of the way. This involved going through everything in the downstairs - everything - and asking the question: "Does it stay or does it go?" Knick knacks that we've purchased. Pictures. Things that have been given to us as gifts. Old computers, cords, and other technolgical flotsam and jetsam. Do we keep the dog's bed or chuck it and get a new one? For the stuff we're going to get rid of, does it go in the garbage, into the recycle bin, to the Goodwill, or what? And those decisions aren't always easy. What about the memento gift that was given by someone important? That person is still important, but is the gift? If I chuck the gift, am I dishonoring them? Am I going to hurt their feelings?
I had to go through all of the files in my office and decide which documents needed to be kept and which would go into the shredder. Credit card statements from 2001. Carbon copies of checks that we had written in 2004. Investment statements showing just how much our net worth plummeted in the stock market crash a couple of years ago. I really thought I was going to burn out the shredder! Since I've been on the road every week, I've been working on this process over the past 4 weekends. Some of the stuff brought brief smiles to my face before it got gobbled up by the machine. Much more frequently I was asking myself the question "Why the **** have I hung on to this for so long?"
And then I ran across a letter from a family member. It came in the mail about 7 years ago and frankly was a lightning bolt that severed some very important relationships. I'm not going to pretend that I don't share some of the responsibility for the whole situation, but this letter was the catalyst. I didn't even realize that I had kept it - it was folded up, sitting in some obscure folder in my desk drawer. As I looked at it and realized what it was, I felt frozen - not sure whether from fear, or anger, or a combination of many different things. I laid it on the desk, not knowing what to do with it. This discovery happened about 3 weeks ago, and the letter has been sitting there, staring back at me every weekend since.
This morning, I started to reflect on the whole process. The analogy came to me that this whole process is much like how God works in my life. Before He can make any major renovations in me, He first cleans out the crap. "Why are you holding onto something that hurt you, that was said to you years ago Dale? Why are you feeling guilt over something that you did as a child? Let's just put that in the shredder, shall we? I want to install new, beautiful floors, but first we have to rip out these stained, ugly old carpets. I know that the demolition process is hard work, but I promise you that the end result will be worth the effort."
We all have emotional "stuff" in our lives, don't we? Some of it would fall into the category of things we purchased long ago but never met our expectations. Like the child who steals some toy from a store, the initial joy of having the toy is fleeting while the shame and regret for the deed hangs on for a very long time. God wants me to just let go of that. Stuff can be hung on us by others as well - like a gift given that we really don't want but feel guilty throwing away. It can hang there, affecting our personality and relationships.
And sometimes He tells us to wait, right? We rashly go out and buy the new materials, only to have it sit there, waiting for the day when we can actually make the change.
And while cleaning out all of this stuff IS hard work, when the rebuilding process actually does start, it is truly joyful. This last week, the contractor came in to do some preliminary demolition on the countertops so that measurements could be made for the new ones. My wife emailed me (I was in California) and said "I wish you were here so we could jump up and down and dance together!"
There is one part where this analogy breaks down, however. Our contractor has given us a precise, gant chart project schedule, laying out what tasks will happen when. Unfortunately, God doesn't give me one of those for the project He's conducting on me. I suspect He plans on continuing that particular remodel forever.
The letter, by the way, went into the shredder this morning.
June 13, 2010
June 3, 2010
A Million Miles?
I read a lot. My wife often gets annoyed with me for having 3-4 different books that I’m perusing at any given moment, sitting on the end table, on the couch, etc. My career entails vast amounts of time sitting on airplanes, so that provides ample opportunity as well. My tastes vary – at any given time I can be in the middle of a mind candy novel, some current event book or magazine, an inspirational tome, and always a history book of some sort.
Back in my college days, I would frequently run across I was reading that would produce an epiphany – a “light bulb” moment where suddenly a whole series of thoughts and concepts would fall into place. The best example is when I was given a copy of Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis. I had been resisting Christianity, resisting Christ for years, but Lewis’ small work managed to systematically break down that resistance and to deal a severe blow to my pride of intellectualism at the same time.
But I’ve aged. The college years are 25-30 years ago. Over time, sheer information overload and cynicism has taken me to a place where I’m usually thinking “there’s nothing new under the sun”. Oh, I still pick up a lot of factual information, still seek affirmations of my world view, but the searing light of revelatory insight comes much less frequently. Until a couple of months ago.
I was having coffee with a good friend, Lance. Lance was the young man that led our team on the trip to Uganda last summer, and I’ve found him to be wise beyond his years so I enjoy the opportunity to chat with him. He has been an enormous help in my efforts around Seeing Is Believing, and… well… I just like the young man a lot. So Lance shows up at Starbucks and hands me a book. “A Million Miles In A Thousand Years” by Donald Miller. He asked if I’d heard of it, and frankly, I hadn’t. Lance said that he found it to be quite profound, very impacting, and he had picked up several copies to give to friends.
I’m frequently given books by various people. “You’ll really like this!” or “This will change your life!” are the usual comments that accompany the gift. Depending on who gives it to me, I’ll eventually at least pick it up. Sometimes I’ll even read it. The thing about books, however, is that quite often something that is extremely impacting to one person elicits “Meh.” responses from another. I tend to give more credence to the recommendations of those who know me well than I do to those who only know the surface. While I think highly of Lance, I wasn’t too sure of how well he knew me. So the book sat on my desk at home for a few weeks. Finally, one weekend I found myself rather bored with the latest history book I was reading and figured I’d at least browse a bit of A Million Miles.
The further I got into it, the more fascinated I became. The general theme of the book, if I can put my own stamp on it, is “life as a story”. Everyone’s life is a story. But is my life a fascinating story or is it boring? Would it enthrall a reader or is it a cure for insomnia? Perhaps most importantly, what will God think of my story when I finally have the chance to sit down and discuss it with him. I finished the book up on my trip out to Eastern Canada that week, and promptly read it again on the trip back home 4 days later.
The life as a story analogy is very common. I’ve heard entertainers use it, I’ve heard pastors use it. What I found fascinating about AMM, however, was that Miller was actually working on a screenplay based on his previous book – Blue Like Jazz. And he began to question the plot line. What conflicts had his character overcome – the bigger the conflict, the more exciting the climax.
And I may be putting thoughts into his words, but it seemed that he genuinely began to wonder if his story was finished. Does a person’s story ever have to end, up to the time of their death? Personally I found that concept to be a new epiphany – is my story finished? When I sit down to have a conversation with God someday, is He going to tell me that my life was well lived, an exciting story? Or is he going to tell me it was snoozer, that my deeds really had not had an impact for good? What are the conflicts that I’ve overcome? Did I overcome them bravely, show perseverance, or did I simply go to the corner and cower?
Since I returned from Uganda, I’ve told the story of the trip many times. If I’m honest with myself, I often tell it for the shock value – a lot of people seem to think that I’m not what they picture when they think of someone who would go to Uganda on a mission trip. If you’ve read any of my older posts on this blog, you’ll know that I didn’t think I was either. So I suppose one of the big conflicts that I had to overcome was my resistance to making a trip like that. No, let’s be honest. My FEAR of making a trip like that. I was afraid of so many things. I was afraid of the unknown. I was afraid of people who are different than me. I was afraid of getting sick or injured. But mostly I was afraid of what it would do to me – that maybe I’d find out that it was something valuable.
I went to Uganda in a mind set of “Okay Lord. You won this battle and have me on the plane. Let’s get this over with so I can go back to my pampered life.” But somewhere in that country – in Kampala, in Gulu, I misplaced a piece of my heart. And I wasn’t able to find it before we left. So I know that I have to go back to look for it, for me to be whole again.
Now the one thing that I have to keep telling myself is that I’ve had mountaintop experiences before. I remember going to a Promise Keepers event in Eugene, I think it was in 96 or 97. Standing with 50,000 other men praising God is definitely a “WOW!” event. And I happened to be in the Washington DC area when Promise Keepers had their big national event in 97, so I went to that as well. And I was disappointed. Honestly. It just wasn’t the same. So I’m skeptical about the desire to re-live an event. But my trip to Africa was different. When I came home I wasn’t all charged up, but I was changed. I knew that I had to make a return trip to a place that I had fought so ferociously going to in the first place.
As I’ve told anyone who would listen, however, before I can go back, I have to “earn” the right. Simply returning home, reveling in the memories of that trip and then planning to return would relegate the entire experience to the mountaintop heap. It would ring very hollow. What do I mean by earning the right? Well, when I was over there I witnessed needs that exceeded my worst fears. My mind and heart went into what seemed like an endless reset loop – everywhere I looked I saw needs. But I knew that I had to do something. The usual American response to problems is to throw money at them, and I suppose on the surface that appears to be what Seeing Is Believing is doing, but I’m quite comfortable that we’ve connected with a solid administrative organization that is ensuring the funds are spent properly.
My work level has held me back from putting as much effort into SIB as I would like, but I’m trying to rest in the comfort that it is all in God’s hands anyway.
But the entire experience – from the initial internal battle about going, through the trip and the organization of SIB has taught me something else about my story. I’ve come to the realization that I tend to spend entirely too much time dwelling on my own story. My “story” needs to focus outward. My relationships with others – with God, my family, my friends, the people I work with, and my brothers and sisters in Africa – are what makes my story rich and interesting.
At least in my mind.
Back in my college days, I would frequently run across I was reading that would produce an epiphany – a “light bulb” moment where suddenly a whole series of thoughts and concepts would fall into place. The best example is when I was given a copy of Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis. I had been resisting Christianity, resisting Christ for years, but Lewis’ small work managed to systematically break down that resistance and to deal a severe blow to my pride of intellectualism at the same time.
But I’ve aged. The college years are 25-30 years ago. Over time, sheer information overload and cynicism has taken me to a place where I’m usually thinking “there’s nothing new under the sun”. Oh, I still pick up a lot of factual information, still seek affirmations of my world view, but the searing light of revelatory insight comes much less frequently. Until a couple of months ago.
I was having coffee with a good friend, Lance. Lance was the young man that led our team on the trip to Uganda last summer, and I’ve found him to be wise beyond his years so I enjoy the opportunity to chat with him. He has been an enormous help in my efforts around Seeing Is Believing, and… well… I just like the young man a lot. So Lance shows up at Starbucks and hands me a book. “A Million Miles In A Thousand Years” by Donald Miller. He asked if I’d heard of it, and frankly, I hadn’t. Lance said that he found it to be quite profound, very impacting, and he had picked up several copies to give to friends.
I’m frequently given books by various people. “You’ll really like this!” or “This will change your life!” are the usual comments that accompany the gift. Depending on who gives it to me, I’ll eventually at least pick it up. Sometimes I’ll even read it. The thing about books, however, is that quite often something that is extremely impacting to one person elicits “Meh.” responses from another. I tend to give more credence to the recommendations of those who know me well than I do to those who only know the surface. While I think highly of Lance, I wasn’t too sure of how well he knew me. So the book sat on my desk at home for a few weeks. Finally, one weekend I found myself rather bored with the latest history book I was reading and figured I’d at least browse a bit of A Million Miles.
The further I got into it, the more fascinated I became. The general theme of the book, if I can put my own stamp on it, is “life as a story”. Everyone’s life is a story. But is my life a fascinating story or is it boring? Would it enthrall a reader or is it a cure for insomnia? Perhaps most importantly, what will God think of my story when I finally have the chance to sit down and discuss it with him. I finished the book up on my trip out to Eastern Canada that week, and promptly read it again on the trip back home 4 days later.
The life as a story analogy is very common. I’ve heard entertainers use it, I’ve heard pastors use it. What I found fascinating about AMM, however, was that Miller was actually working on a screenplay based on his previous book – Blue Like Jazz. And he began to question the plot line. What conflicts had his character overcome – the bigger the conflict, the more exciting the climax.
And I may be putting thoughts into his words, but it seemed that he genuinely began to wonder if his story was finished. Does a person’s story ever have to end, up to the time of their death? Personally I found that concept to be a new epiphany – is my story finished? When I sit down to have a conversation with God someday, is He going to tell me that my life was well lived, an exciting story? Or is he going to tell me it was snoozer, that my deeds really had not had an impact for good? What are the conflicts that I’ve overcome? Did I overcome them bravely, show perseverance, or did I simply go to the corner and cower?
Since I returned from Uganda, I’ve told the story of the trip many times. If I’m honest with myself, I often tell it for the shock value – a lot of people seem to think that I’m not what they picture when they think of someone who would go to Uganda on a mission trip. If you’ve read any of my older posts on this blog, you’ll know that I didn’t think I was either. So I suppose one of the big conflicts that I had to overcome was my resistance to making a trip like that. No, let’s be honest. My FEAR of making a trip like that. I was afraid of so many things. I was afraid of the unknown. I was afraid of people who are different than me. I was afraid of getting sick or injured. But mostly I was afraid of what it would do to me – that maybe I’d find out that it was something valuable.
I went to Uganda in a mind set of “Okay Lord. You won this battle and have me on the plane. Let’s get this over with so I can go back to my pampered life.” But somewhere in that country – in Kampala, in Gulu, I misplaced a piece of my heart. And I wasn’t able to find it before we left. So I know that I have to go back to look for it, for me to be whole again.
Now the one thing that I have to keep telling myself is that I’ve had mountaintop experiences before. I remember going to a Promise Keepers event in Eugene, I think it was in 96 or 97. Standing with 50,000 other men praising God is definitely a “WOW!” event. And I happened to be in the Washington DC area when Promise Keepers had their big national event in 97, so I went to that as well. And I was disappointed. Honestly. It just wasn’t the same. So I’m skeptical about the desire to re-live an event. But my trip to Africa was different. When I came home I wasn’t all charged up, but I was changed. I knew that I had to make a return trip to a place that I had fought so ferociously going to in the first place.
As I’ve told anyone who would listen, however, before I can go back, I have to “earn” the right. Simply returning home, reveling in the memories of that trip and then planning to return would relegate the entire experience to the mountaintop heap. It would ring very hollow. What do I mean by earning the right? Well, when I was over there I witnessed needs that exceeded my worst fears. My mind and heart went into what seemed like an endless reset loop – everywhere I looked I saw needs. But I knew that I had to do something. The usual American response to problems is to throw money at them, and I suppose on the surface that appears to be what Seeing Is Believing is doing, but I’m quite comfortable that we’ve connected with a solid administrative organization that is ensuring the funds are spent properly.
My work level has held me back from putting as much effort into SIB as I would like, but I’m trying to rest in the comfort that it is all in God’s hands anyway.
But the entire experience – from the initial internal battle about going, through the trip and the organization of SIB has taught me something else about my story. I’ve come to the realization that I tend to spend entirely too much time dwelling on my own story. My “story” needs to focus outward. My relationships with others – with God, my family, my friends, the people I work with, and my brothers and sisters in Africa – are what makes my story rich and interesting.
At least in my mind.
May 20, 2009
Countdown
Well, we're now at T minus 27 days and counting before lift off for Uganda. Over the past month I have played the role of "pin cushion", having some demented little guy jabbing me with needle after needle after needle. Hepatitis A & B, Tetanus, Meningitis, Yellow Fever, Typhoid, and at least one other that escapes me right now. And the Hepatitis involved two additional visits to get poked again. I was starting to feel like a dart board. This morning I get to go visit a doc to get a prescription for Malarone - anti-malarial meds. I think that's the end of THAT part of this adventure.
Psychologically, I'll be honest - it's been a battle. The description I gave a few months ago about the argument between my heart and my head? Well, it wasn't like that was the end of it - the heart won and everyone lived happily ever after. My head has kept up a relentless drumbeat, and I still find that battle raging on occasion. The head at least realizes now, however, that it is losing. It's just not happy about it!
I have been informed that I will be the the official "blog writer" while we're over there. As soon as I get the site address I'll post it in here. Any grammatical mistakes in there, however, will be my responsibility and my responsibility only!
But I am getting excited. I am looking forward to this adventure. And I really, truly appreciate the support - financial and prayer - that I have received from people to date. I thank you very, very much.
Psychologically, I'll be honest - it's been a battle. The description I gave a few months ago about the argument between my heart and my head? Well, it wasn't like that was the end of it - the heart won and everyone lived happily ever after. My head has kept up a relentless drumbeat, and I still find that battle raging on occasion. The head at least realizes now, however, that it is losing. It's just not happy about it!
I have been informed that I will be the the official "blog writer" while we're over there. As soon as I get the site address I'll post it in here. Any grammatical mistakes in there, however, will be my responsibility and my responsibility only!
But I am getting excited. I am looking forward to this adventure. And I really, truly appreciate the support - financial and prayer - that I have received from people to date. I thank you very, very much.
May 6, 2009
On Romance
It would seem that my son recently initiated a debate on Facebook stemming from a discussion from a class at SPU. The topic was Romanticism vs. Post-romanticism. You can view his thoughts on his blog at:
http://seraphmessenger.blogspot.com/
I wanted to add a couple of thoughts to it. His post shows him to be a hopeless romantic. While I won't claim to have instilled this in him, I have to say that I find it very enlightening and encouraging that he feels this way. You see, I have to come out of the closet as well - his Dad is a hopeless romantic, too.
I told him today that the day that he lets go of his romantic tendencies is the day that he should apply for his credentials as a zombie. I know that romance is an integral part of who I am. The joy I feel in the romantic moments with my wife are ephemeral. Maybe I'm confusing it with the overarching concept of love, but I also have "romantic" feelings towards my children. There are times when I just enjoy doing things for all of them, moments when I find it completely gratifying to let them know how much they mean to me.
Romance to me is a need, a compulsion, to let my loved ones know how much they mean to me. It is a never ending need because I'm never able to fully express it - I never have the perfectly right words, the perfectly right deeds. And yet I am compelled to continue in the effort. In ways I liken it to worship - the compulsion to communicate to God how much his love, his grace means to me. I don't have the ability to fully express that either, but it doesn't stop me from trying. Romance makes me alive!
Without romance there is no hope. Life devolves into blatant cynicism. It becomes a dark, empty existence. With romance there is joy, there is love, there is a reason for living. No, the object of our romance does not always respond to the overtures, but we should never let go of the desire to express it. To do so would be an abject surrender to a darker existence.
So at the expense of blatant plagiarism, here is the familiar poem from Elizabeth Barrett Browning:
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, --- I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! --- and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
http://seraphmessenger.blogspot.com/
I wanted to add a couple of thoughts to it. His post shows him to be a hopeless romantic. While I won't claim to have instilled this in him, I have to say that I find it very enlightening and encouraging that he feels this way. You see, I have to come out of the closet as well - his Dad is a hopeless romantic, too.
I told him today that the day that he lets go of his romantic tendencies is the day that he should apply for his credentials as a zombie. I know that romance is an integral part of who I am. The joy I feel in the romantic moments with my wife are ephemeral. Maybe I'm confusing it with the overarching concept of love, but I also have "romantic" feelings towards my children. There are times when I just enjoy doing things for all of them, moments when I find it completely gratifying to let them know how much they mean to me.
Romance to me is a need, a compulsion, to let my loved ones know how much they mean to me. It is a never ending need because I'm never able to fully express it - I never have the perfectly right words, the perfectly right deeds. And yet I am compelled to continue in the effort. In ways I liken it to worship - the compulsion to communicate to God how much his love, his grace means to me. I don't have the ability to fully express that either, but it doesn't stop me from trying. Romance makes me alive!
Without romance there is no hope. Life devolves into blatant cynicism. It becomes a dark, empty existence. With romance there is joy, there is love, there is a reason for living. No, the object of our romance does not always respond to the overtures, but we should never let go of the desire to express it. To do so would be an abject surrender to a darker existence.
So at the expense of blatant plagiarism, here is the familiar poem from Elizabeth Barrett Browning:
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, --- I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! --- and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
February 8, 2009
The Bottom Line
And so, my dear friends & family, I come before you to humbly ask for your support. As I said in the Uganda Bound post, this IS the Great Adventure. Ostensibly, the purpose for the trip is to help others who are far less fortunate than I. I honestly believe, however, that God has some profound lessons for me to learn on this, and I sincerely hope it brings some convinctions about possibilities for me to live more simply.
I wouldn't have even been approached, however, if my lovely daughter Samantha wasn't going on the trip as well. First and foremost, I ask you to pray for us. Please pray for the safety of our team and those we will be working with. Pray for open hearts - both on the part of the Ugandans we'll encounter and for us. Pray that the entire trip brings glory to our Lord.
If you haven't spent much time talking to God for a while, this might be an opportunity to re-engage.
The costs for the trip are somewhat daunting at $5,000. It requires a massive gulp & swallow when that cost is doubled for both of us, however. If you feel led to help us financially, I would certainly like to encourage that. There are two ways of accomplishing that.
1. You can send a check to:
Eternal Impact Ministries, PO BOX 250 Oregon City, Oregon 97045
If you choose this method, please do NOT write anyone's name (mine or Samantha's) on the check, but rather enclose a short note to indicate that it is for whichever one of us you choose on the Rolling Hills Impact Team.
2. Go to eternalimpact.org - You will see a selection in the middle of the home page for "On Line Giving". Click that, then select Rolling Hills Impact Team Members. You can then select either of our names, and any credit card/ debit card payments will be credited towards our costs.
Whichever method you might choose, please send me an email - dale@apollo-7.com - to let me know so that I can properly thank you.
The gifts - at least for my US friends - is tax deductible. I'm not sure about the laws in Canada.
I would also like to encourage you to peruse the Eternal Impact site to find out more about them, and tune back into it during our visit - June 18 through July 5, 2009 - to read blog updates of our adventures.
Thank you for considering this and taking the time to read my posts!
Dale
I wouldn't have even been approached, however, if my lovely daughter Samantha wasn't going on the trip as well. First and foremost, I ask you to pray for us. Please pray for the safety of our team and those we will be working with. Pray for open hearts - both on the part of the Ugandans we'll encounter and for us. Pray that the entire trip brings glory to our Lord.
If you haven't spent much time talking to God for a while, this might be an opportunity to re-engage.
The costs for the trip are somewhat daunting at $5,000. It requires a massive gulp & swallow when that cost is doubled for both of us, however. If you feel led to help us financially, I would certainly like to encourage that. There are two ways of accomplishing that.
1. You can send a check to:
Eternal Impact Ministries, PO BOX 250 Oregon City, Oregon 97045
If you choose this method, please do NOT write anyone's name (mine or Samantha's) on the check, but rather enclose a short note to indicate that it is for whichever one of us you choose on the Rolling Hills Impact Team.
2. Go to eternalimpact.org - You will see a selection in the middle of the home page for "On Line Giving". Click that, then select Rolling Hills Impact Team Members. You can then select either of our names, and any credit card/ debit card payments will be credited towards our costs.
Whichever method you might choose, please send me an email - dale@apollo-7.com - to let me know so that I can properly thank you.
The gifts - at least for my US friends - is tax deductible. I'm not sure about the laws in Canada.
I would also like to encourage you to peruse the Eternal Impact site to find out more about them, and tune back into it during our visit - June 18 through July 5, 2009 - to read blog updates of our adventures.
Thank you for considering this and taking the time to read my posts!
Dale
February 7, 2009
Heaven to Earth. Heaven to Earth. Over.
I have to tell you that you're likely to read the word "Uganda" in this blog extensively over the next few months. I'm not going to apologize for that, however.
The concept of being "spoken to by God" is a difficult one for many to deal with. Quite frankly, that includes many Christians. If it puts anyone's heart at ease, let me tell you unequivocally that I have never heard a voice in my head saying "God to Dale. God to Dale. Come in Dale." I have never witnessed a ball of fire with words emanating from it, nor have I been struck to the ground and blinded a la Paul.
I must also tell you, however, that I know - beyond a shadow of a doubt - that I am being called by Him to go on this trip. If you could see or experience my thoughts, you would know that I have always been very resistant to the idea of "mission trips", particularly ones outside of the US. Call it rebellion, call it whatever you like, but I've always fought the notion fiercely. Justifications like "Why should we be going to Africa to bring people to the Lord when there are so many people in this country who need Him?" ran roughshod through my head. The mere fact that I entertained the notion at all confirms to me that He is sending me.
The previous post in here gives you a "stream of consciousness" of when the decision was actually made for me, but there was one other little epiphany that happened as well. Prior to me telling Branden that I was "in", we were watching a video of a previous trip made by Eternal Impact. The high school kids and adults were interacting with the Ugandan kids. One shot was of an American adult male, from behind, crouched down talking to a small Ugandan child. The man's hair had been buzzed off very short. Another excerpt of the "stream" went something like this:
Dale's Heart: Hey, it's going to be hot over there. I'm going to get my hair buzzed like that before I go as well.
Dale's Head: What in the world are you talking about? What's this "before I go" crap? You're not going, so why are you thinking about what you're going to do with your hair, for crying out loud? You don't DO mission trips, remember?
See, if I've learned anything over the 25+ years of my Christian life, it's that He helps to show me my own hypocrisies and prejudices, and that often forces decisions on me. Has He showed me all of them? Yeah, right. I expect to keep learning right up until the day I leave this earth to join Him. Nevertheless, I am compelled to take action on them when He does bring them out.
The concept of being "spoken to by God" is a difficult one for many to deal with. Quite frankly, that includes many Christians. If it puts anyone's heart at ease, let me tell you unequivocally that I have never heard a voice in my head saying "God to Dale. God to Dale. Come in Dale." I have never witnessed a ball of fire with words emanating from it, nor have I been struck to the ground and blinded a la Paul.
I must also tell you, however, that I know - beyond a shadow of a doubt - that I am being called by Him to go on this trip. If you could see or experience my thoughts, you would know that I have always been very resistant to the idea of "mission trips", particularly ones outside of the US. Call it rebellion, call it whatever you like, but I've always fought the notion fiercely. Justifications like "Why should we be going to Africa to bring people to the Lord when there are so many people in this country who need Him?" ran roughshod through my head. The mere fact that I entertained the notion at all confirms to me that He is sending me.
The previous post in here gives you a "stream of consciousness" of when the decision was actually made for me, but there was one other little epiphany that happened as well. Prior to me telling Branden that I was "in", we were watching a video of a previous trip made by Eternal Impact. The high school kids and adults were interacting with the Ugandan kids. One shot was of an American adult male, from behind, crouched down talking to a small Ugandan child. The man's hair had been buzzed off very short. Another excerpt of the "stream" went something like this:
Dale's Heart: Hey, it's going to be hot over there. I'm going to get my hair buzzed like that before I go as well.
Dale's Head: What in the world are you talking about? What's this "before I go" crap? You're not going, so why are you thinking about what you're going to do with your hair, for crying out loud? You don't DO mission trips, remember?
See, if I've learned anything over the 25+ years of my Christian life, it's that He helps to show me my own hypocrisies and prejudices, and that often forces decisions on me. Has He showed me all of them? Yeah, right. I expect to keep learning right up until the day I leave this earth to join Him. Nevertheless, I am compelled to take action on them when He does bring them out.
November 25, 2008
Uganda Bound
So, I show up at church to pick up my daughter last Wednesday, and am accosted by Branden, the High School Pastor.
Branden: Hey Dale - on our upcoming trip to Uganda, we plan to do some dramas. I know that you mentioned that this was a neglected area of HSM, so you're the first one I thought of. Would you be willing to pray about helping us develop some sketches, etc. and - Holy Spirit willing - maybe join us on the trip?
Dale’s Mouth: Yeah, okay. I'll pray.
Dale’s Head: I'm 49 years old, and have successfully avoided going on any mission trips for the entire 26 years of my Christian life. Sure. I'll pray. Don't getcher hopes up too high, Pal.
So I'm sitting in the Fellowship Center on Sunday, and the "Chasing Daylight" campaign gets mentioned. That, of course, sets off a whole 'nother mind pattern. See, I had some significant issues with the campaign. I much prefer the simpler, more straightforward message that came from Steven Curtis Chapman in "The Great Adventure".
"Saddle up your horses, we got a trail to blaze
Through the wild blue yonder, of God's amazing grace!
We'll follow our Leader into the glorious unknown
This is a life like no other, whoa! this is The Great Adventure!"
As a matter of fact, that song has been our family’s “theme song” for about 12 years now. So this argument starts up in my head.
Dale’s Heart: So, do you really believe that? You’ve claimed The Great Adventure, the glorious unknown, for several years now. Shoot, you named your company after it. But do you really believe it?
Dale’s Head: Sure I do, but this is different. This isn’t unknown. This is heading off to some strange 3rd world country. Been there, done that, Dude. Remember that brutal series of trips to Mexico City back in 01? Do you really want to go through THAT again?
Dale’s Heart: Excuses – Gee, how did I know those would be coming? Those were business trips, and you ventured in there all alone. You weren’t there to minister for Christ, you were there to implement software. The question is still hanging there, Bucko - do you really believe it?.
Dale’s Head: Ah, c’mon Man!
Dale’s Mouth (to wife): This seat is killing me. I’m going to stand up.
Dale’s Feet, after a few minutes, start moving across the room towards Branden.
Dale’s Head: Hey! Heyheyheyheyhey! What are you doing?! Where do you think you’re going?! Stop it! Who’s in charge here anyway? Stop I say! STOP!
Dale’s Mouth (having a hard time maintaining composure): Hey Man. I’m terrified, but I’m in. (Branden administers a hug) I’m being dragged kicking and screaming, but I’m in.
Branden: I think that’s the way it has to be.
Dale’s Mouth: I’m 49 years old and have never done anything like this.
Branden: Neither have I, so we’re in this together!
Dale’s Head: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dale’s Heart: Yessss! Here we go folks. THIS is The Great Adventure! ‘Bout bloomin time we stepped out!
Branden: Hey Dale - on our upcoming trip to Uganda, we plan to do some dramas. I know that you mentioned that this was a neglected area of HSM, so you're the first one I thought of. Would you be willing to pray about helping us develop some sketches, etc. and - Holy Spirit willing - maybe join us on the trip?
Dale’s Mouth: Yeah, okay. I'll pray.
Dale’s Head: I'm 49 years old, and have successfully avoided going on any mission trips for the entire 26 years of my Christian life. Sure. I'll pray. Don't getcher hopes up too high, Pal.
So I'm sitting in the Fellowship Center on Sunday, and the "Chasing Daylight" campaign gets mentioned. That, of course, sets off a whole 'nother mind pattern. See, I had some significant issues with the campaign. I much prefer the simpler, more straightforward message that came from Steven Curtis Chapman in "The Great Adventure".
"Saddle up your horses, we got a trail to blaze
Through the wild blue yonder, of God's amazing grace!
We'll follow our Leader into the glorious unknown
This is a life like no other, whoa! this is The Great Adventure!"
As a matter of fact, that song has been our family’s “theme song” for about 12 years now. So this argument starts up in my head.
Dale’s Heart: So, do you really believe that? You’ve claimed The Great Adventure, the glorious unknown, for several years now. Shoot, you named your company after it. But do you really believe it?
Dale’s Head: Sure I do, but this is different. This isn’t unknown. This is heading off to some strange 3rd world country. Been there, done that, Dude. Remember that brutal series of trips to Mexico City back in 01? Do you really want to go through THAT again?
Dale’s Heart: Excuses – Gee, how did I know those would be coming? Those were business trips, and you ventured in there all alone. You weren’t there to minister for Christ, you were there to implement software. The question is still hanging there, Bucko - do you really believe it?.
Dale’s Head: Ah, c’mon Man!
Dale’s Mouth (to wife): This seat is killing me. I’m going to stand up.
Dale’s Feet, after a few minutes, start moving across the room towards Branden.
Dale’s Head: Hey! Heyheyheyheyhey! What are you doing?! Where do you think you’re going?! Stop it! Who’s in charge here anyway? Stop I say! STOP!
Dale’s Mouth (having a hard time maintaining composure): Hey Man. I’m terrified, but I’m in. (Branden administers a hug) I’m being dragged kicking and screaming, but I’m in.
Branden: I think that’s the way it has to be.
Dale’s Mouth: I’m 49 years old and have never done anything like this.
Branden: Neither have I, so we’re in this together!
Dale’s Head: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dale’s Heart: Yessss! Here we go folks. THIS is The Great Adventure! ‘Bout bloomin time we stepped out!
September 29, 2008
Seasons Change
My family has just gone through one of those important milestones in life. My wife and I took our first born and dropped him off at college last week. To nobody’s surprise, my mind and emotions have been engaged in a gymnastics tournament throughout the whole process.
To begin with, we are absolutely thrilled with the college that he chose and the experiences that we have had there. This school has rejected the traditional notion of parents dropping off their freshmen student and leaving. They have developed a 2 day program where the parents are walked through the process of what they will be teaching the students, what types of ministries are available, what service opportunities the students will have and what school services are available. Every step of the way we had faculty and administration officials – up to and including the President of the University – thanking us for entrusting our son to them. There wasn’t a single one of these people who projected insincerity in any form.
The temptation is obviously to look at this like we’re the first parents who have ever experienced this type of event. Whether it is sending a child off to college, off to the military or off into the work world, however, it is an experience that virtually every parent goes through in one form or another. It is exciting. It causes anxiety. It brings us great pride in our son. It even causes a certain level of mild fear.
As I contemplated all of this over the weekend, I tried to bring some perspective to my thoughts and feelings. It so happens that my business partner down in California helped in this regard.
His wife is about to give birth to their second child. The already have a lovely 3 year old girl, and it appears number two is to be a boy. They are understandably excited about the prospect. In around 15 years, they will undergo a similar experience to what my wife and I are currently walking. Around 3 years later, the young man about to be born will then take his turn. My partner and his wife have the same excitement, anxiety, pride and fear to look forward to.
I then started thinking about the faculty and administration of the college thanking us for putting our trust in them to help continue the education of our son, how they were honored by our trust. I thought back to his birth and the first time I held him in my arms, and I realized that there are more similarities to these events than I originally thought.
Quite simply, when our son was born the Lord placed him into our hands to allow us to raise him and educate him. I didn’t express it at that point, but I am so very thankful that He entrusted this young man to us. We were deeply honored to have been allowed to raise him and educate him to this point. The important thing for us to remember, however, is that he belongs to God. Always has, always will. Our Father entrusted him to us for a season, but that season has now changed and it is time for the next.
The final piece of the 2 day event was the Convocation. It was held in the school Pavilion (gymnasium), and began with a set of bagpipes escorting in all of the faculty of the school, dressed in full academic regalia. After prayer, a message on Communitas and the singing of a hymn (Be Thou My Vision), the faculty formed a circle around the perimeter of the gym. The new students were then invited to come down out of the bleachers and enter the circle where they were welcomed by the faculty. It was a physical symbol of our son leaving our home and joining the new community of the University. Very poignant. I’ll admit that my sunglasses snapped onto my face as we left the building to hide my tears!
So yes, the occasion has affected me deeply. I take comfort, however, in the thought that we have now entrusted our charge back into God’s hands. He never really left.
To begin with, we are absolutely thrilled with the college that he chose and the experiences that we have had there. This school has rejected the traditional notion of parents dropping off their freshmen student and leaving. They have developed a 2 day program where the parents are walked through the process of what they will be teaching the students, what types of ministries are available, what service opportunities the students will have and what school services are available. Every step of the way we had faculty and administration officials – up to and including the President of the University – thanking us for entrusting our son to them. There wasn’t a single one of these people who projected insincerity in any form.
The temptation is obviously to look at this like we’re the first parents who have ever experienced this type of event. Whether it is sending a child off to college, off to the military or off into the work world, however, it is an experience that virtually every parent goes through in one form or another. It is exciting. It causes anxiety. It brings us great pride in our son. It even causes a certain level of mild fear.
As I contemplated all of this over the weekend, I tried to bring some perspective to my thoughts and feelings. It so happens that my business partner down in California helped in this regard.
His wife is about to give birth to their second child. The already have a lovely 3 year old girl, and it appears number two is to be a boy. They are understandably excited about the prospect. In around 15 years, they will undergo a similar experience to what my wife and I are currently walking. Around 3 years later, the young man about to be born will then take his turn. My partner and his wife have the same excitement, anxiety, pride and fear to look forward to.
I then started thinking about the faculty and administration of the college thanking us for putting our trust in them to help continue the education of our son, how they were honored by our trust. I thought back to his birth and the first time I held him in my arms, and I realized that there are more similarities to these events than I originally thought.
Quite simply, when our son was born the Lord placed him into our hands to allow us to raise him and educate him. I didn’t express it at that point, but I am so very thankful that He entrusted this young man to us. We were deeply honored to have been allowed to raise him and educate him to this point. The important thing for us to remember, however, is that he belongs to God. Always has, always will. Our Father entrusted him to us for a season, but that season has now changed and it is time for the next.
The final piece of the 2 day event was the Convocation. It was held in the school Pavilion (gymnasium), and began with a set of bagpipes escorting in all of the faculty of the school, dressed in full academic regalia. After prayer, a message on Communitas and the singing of a hymn (Be Thou My Vision), the faculty formed a circle around the perimeter of the gym. The new students were then invited to come down out of the bleachers and enter the circle where they were welcomed by the faculty. It was a physical symbol of our son leaving our home and joining the new community of the University. Very poignant. I’ll admit that my sunglasses snapped onto my face as we left the building to hide my tears!
So yes, the occasion has affected me deeply. I take comfort, however, in the thought that we have now entrusted our charge back into God’s hands. He never really left.
June 25, 2008
One of These Days
Has it really been over a year since I posted anything on here? Time sure flies when you get busy, but thanks to my sister-in-law, I realize that I have something I need to post.
I'm pretty sure I've mentioned it in here before, but I do some amateur acting at our church. I was asked to play a minor role in a dramatic sketch during our church services this last weekend, and it has had an unexpected impact on my life that I thought I'd share.
The sketch was titled "One Of These Days". The scene opens in a cemetery, with some mourners gathered around a grave and a couple of groundskeepers working on cleaning up a bench. As it progresses, it turns out that the groundskeepers are actually angels. After an initial discourse by them, the scene shifts to the minister who is presiding over the funeral. I was playing the minister.
I gave a pretty depressing little spiel:
"As for man, his days are like grass
As a flower in the field, so he flourishes
For the wind passes over it, and it is gone
And its place remembers it no more
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Another life comes to an end
Let us take a moment of silence"
One of the angels freezes time, and chides the pastor for not finishing the verse. "Psalm 103:15 goes on to say 'But the LORD'S kindness is forever, toward the faithful from age to age'. This is not the end. I think you need to go back to seminary." The angel then snaps everyone back in.
The grandson of the man who has died then starts to make some comments, but gets frustrated and walks off. The angel freezes the rest of us again and they (the angels) have a discussion with the grandson, reminding him of the immenense of the resurrection. The rest of the group is then unfrozen, the grandson returns and delivers a short, stirring discourse, and the band goes into "One Of These Days", the song made popular by FFH (the church band and singers did a fabulous job on this, by the way). Towards the end of the song, the angels - who have now changed into more heavenly garments - walk over to the grave and lift out the grandfather - who now has his new resurrection body. He has a brief reunion with his grandson and then walks out in glory.
The sketch was very well written and performed, and the effect on everyone present was, well, dramatic. I saw lots of tears - most of them through the blurriness of my own.
So this all happens at the 2 services on Sunday, June 22, 2008. I found out early in the morning of Tuesday, June 24 that a dear friend - David Diehl - had passed away the previous day. Dave was a young man - I don't know his exact age, but I'm pretty sure he was around 45. He was wise beyond his years, and possessed a dead pan wit that could level anyone. Dave has left behind a beautiful wife, Lori, and 2 daughters, Lexi 12 and Dani 7.
Dave was the Executive Pastor - basically the business executive - at the church we used to attend. My wife and I had been in a small group with them, attended numerous functions with them, visited each others homes, and generally enjoyed each other's company. Back then I still participated in making a fool out of myself on the golf course, and often did so in front of Dave. I remember one early morning outing with just the two of us, and we had a wonderful time relating our life stories with each other.
When I heard this news, my thoughts were immediately drawn back to the sketch. I know Dave loved the Lord, and I KNOW that he is now with the Lord. Every time I think about that sketch now, I picture him as the one who is pulled out of that grave - dressed in glorious white. He emerges with wonderful surprise, and walks over to Lori and his daughters. They are able to embrace one more time before he heads off to wait for them with our Lord. Even as I type these words, I'm having a difficult time seeing through my tears.
Oh, I have questions for God - why do Lori and the girls have to endure this? Why is he being taken so young? But I know now more than ever that I WILL see him again. More importantly, so will Lori, Lexi and Dani.
A final footnote on the sketch. Russ, the man who played the grandson who is grieving the loss of his grandfather, did a magnificent job with the role, and it was played completely from the heart. He lost his 12 year old daughter to cancer last year.
He WILL see her again.
Praises to our King!
I'm pretty sure I've mentioned it in here before, but I do some amateur acting at our church. I was asked to play a minor role in a dramatic sketch during our church services this last weekend, and it has had an unexpected impact on my life that I thought I'd share.
The sketch was titled "One Of These Days". The scene opens in a cemetery, with some mourners gathered around a grave and a couple of groundskeepers working on cleaning up a bench. As it progresses, it turns out that the groundskeepers are actually angels. After an initial discourse by them, the scene shifts to the minister who is presiding over the funeral. I was playing the minister.
I gave a pretty depressing little spiel:
"As for man, his days are like grass
As a flower in the field, so he flourishes
For the wind passes over it, and it is gone
And its place remembers it no more
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Another life comes to an end
Let us take a moment of silence"
One of the angels freezes time, and chides the pastor for not finishing the verse. "Psalm 103:15 goes on to say 'But the LORD'S kindness is forever, toward the faithful from age to age'. This is not the end. I think you need to go back to seminary." The angel then snaps everyone back in.
The grandson of the man who has died then starts to make some comments, but gets frustrated and walks off. The angel freezes the rest of us again and they (the angels) have a discussion with the grandson, reminding him of the immenense of the resurrection. The rest of the group is then unfrozen, the grandson returns and delivers a short, stirring discourse, and the band goes into "One Of These Days", the song made popular by FFH (the church band and singers did a fabulous job on this, by the way). Towards the end of the song, the angels - who have now changed into more heavenly garments - walk over to the grave and lift out the grandfather - who now has his new resurrection body. He has a brief reunion with his grandson and then walks out in glory.
The sketch was very well written and performed, and the effect on everyone present was, well, dramatic. I saw lots of tears - most of them through the blurriness of my own.
So this all happens at the 2 services on Sunday, June 22, 2008. I found out early in the morning of Tuesday, June 24 that a dear friend - David Diehl - had passed away the previous day. Dave was a young man - I don't know his exact age, but I'm pretty sure he was around 45. He was wise beyond his years, and possessed a dead pan wit that could level anyone. Dave has left behind a beautiful wife, Lori, and 2 daughters, Lexi 12 and Dani 7.
Dave was the Executive Pastor - basically the business executive - at the church we used to attend. My wife and I had been in a small group with them, attended numerous functions with them, visited each others homes, and generally enjoyed each other's company. Back then I still participated in making a fool out of myself on the golf course, and often did so in front of Dave. I remember one early morning outing with just the two of us, and we had a wonderful time relating our life stories with each other.
When I heard this news, my thoughts were immediately drawn back to the sketch. I know Dave loved the Lord, and I KNOW that he is now with the Lord. Every time I think about that sketch now, I picture him as the one who is pulled out of that grave - dressed in glorious white. He emerges with wonderful surprise, and walks over to Lori and his daughters. They are able to embrace one more time before he heads off to wait for them with our Lord. Even as I type these words, I'm having a difficult time seeing through my tears.
Oh, I have questions for God - why do Lori and the girls have to endure this? Why is he being taken so young? But I know now more than ever that I WILL see him again. More importantly, so will Lori, Lexi and Dani.
A final footnote on the sketch. Russ, the man who played the grandson who is grieving the loss of his grandfather, did a magnificent job with the role, and it was played completely from the heart. He lost his 12 year old daughter to cancer last year.
He WILL see her again.
Praises to our King!
June 9, 2007
Soon End In Joy
As you may have surmised from reading previous posts, music is a very important part of my life. Now, when it comes to performing the Lord definitely did NOT bless me with gifts in this field. With the help of a hoist, a dump truck and a cloud of witnesses surrounding me I can sing well enough for possibly 50% of the population to figure out the tune. With the exception of mucking through the required "recorder" production in the 5th grade (when everyone else in the class was bleating away as well), I've never been able to do anything with an instrument.
So for better or worse, I'm forced to rely on those who have been given gifts in this field to quench my needs. That's okay, because there is a multitude of people in this world who ARE gifted in musical talents.
Music for me, however, has often led the journeys of my soul. In the days before I became a Christian, I desperately sought music that would help me to "find my identity". I often sought out secular artists that would show me as being "cool and yet different from everyone else".
Upon accepting Christ as my Savior, however, I began to realize that music was so much more than being "all about me". I've come to understand that music speaks to each person differently than the next, much as God has created each person differently. I've also come to view musical gifts and talents as being gifts from Him and - like all gifts from our Lord - they carry responsibilities. I believe God created music as a tool for us to worship Him. Again - like all gifts from our Lord - musicians, singers and song writers have the choice as to whether or not to use them in this manner.
As my journey with Him has moved along, I find myself less and less inclined to listen to music that doesn't involve worshipping Him. Yes, my iPod has a few secular songs on it - primarily nostalgic songs that remind me of particular points in my life. The vast majority of music that I listen to, however, is by Christian artists who use their gifts to worship the Lord.
The group of artists whose work has touched me most deeply over the past couple of years is a group called Jars of Clay. They're often labeled as "alternative", so I find it rather ironic that one of their best works has been an album called "Redemption Songs". It is a collection of Jars' interpretation of old hymns.
Now please understand this about me - I really don't care for sitting in a church listening to soe of the old dirges. Having grown up outside of a church setting, I still feel the proper place for an organ is playing "Charge!" or "3 Blind Mice" at a hockey game. On this particular work, however, the artists have taken such old time classics as "It Is Well With My Soul" and "I'll Fly Away" and rearranged them to really strike a chord with modern tastes.
The one that has been touching me most deeply recently is "God Will Lift Up Your Head". This is a song originally written by Paul Gerhardt. I'm not sure when Paul wrote it, but it was translated into English by John Wesley, so it has to be over 200 year old. The lyrics can be viewed here, but I would strongly encourage the reader to stop into a music store or iTunes and listen to it.
http://www.jarchives.com/dgod_will_lift.htm
The verse at the end goes:
Through waves and clouds and storms,
He gently clears the way
Wait because in His time, so shall this night
Soon end in joy, soon end in joy
Soon end in joy, soon end in joy
So I'm listening to this a couple of weeks ago as I'm waiting to board a flight from Atlanta to Portland. "So shall this night, soon end in joy". What are my options here? I either arrive safely home to be with my wife and kids. So shall this night soon end in joy! What happens if the plane goes down? I'll be joining my Lord in Heaven! So shall this night soon end in joy!
So for better or worse, I'm forced to rely on those who have been given gifts in this field to quench my needs. That's okay, because there is a multitude of people in this world who ARE gifted in musical talents.
Music for me, however, has often led the journeys of my soul. In the days before I became a Christian, I desperately sought music that would help me to "find my identity". I often sought out secular artists that would show me as being "cool and yet different from everyone else".
Upon accepting Christ as my Savior, however, I began to realize that music was so much more than being "all about me". I've come to understand that music speaks to each person differently than the next, much as God has created each person differently. I've also come to view musical gifts and talents as being gifts from Him and - like all gifts from our Lord - they carry responsibilities. I believe God created music as a tool for us to worship Him. Again - like all gifts from our Lord - musicians, singers and song writers have the choice as to whether or not to use them in this manner.
As my journey with Him has moved along, I find myself less and less inclined to listen to music that doesn't involve worshipping Him. Yes, my iPod has a few secular songs on it - primarily nostalgic songs that remind me of particular points in my life. The vast majority of music that I listen to, however, is by Christian artists who use their gifts to worship the Lord.
The group of artists whose work has touched me most deeply over the past couple of years is a group called Jars of Clay. They're often labeled as "alternative", so I find it rather ironic that one of their best works has been an album called "Redemption Songs". It is a collection of Jars' interpretation of old hymns.
Now please understand this about me - I really don't care for sitting in a church listening to soe of the old dirges. Having grown up outside of a church setting, I still feel the proper place for an organ is playing "Charge!" or "3 Blind Mice" at a hockey game. On this particular work, however, the artists have taken such old time classics as "It Is Well With My Soul" and "I'll Fly Away" and rearranged them to really strike a chord with modern tastes.
The one that has been touching me most deeply recently is "God Will Lift Up Your Head". This is a song originally written by Paul Gerhardt. I'm not sure when Paul wrote it, but it was translated into English by John Wesley, so it has to be over 200 year old. The lyrics can be viewed here, but I would strongly encourage the reader to stop into a music store or iTunes and listen to it.
http://www.jarchives.com/dgod_will_lift.htm
The verse at the end goes:
Through waves and clouds and storms,
He gently clears the way
Wait because in His time, so shall this night
Soon end in joy, soon end in joy
Soon end in joy, soon end in joy
So I'm listening to this a couple of weeks ago as I'm waiting to board a flight from Atlanta to Portland. "So shall this night, soon end in joy". What are my options here? I either arrive safely home to be with my wife and kids. So shall this night soon end in joy! What happens if the plane goes down? I'll be joining my Lord in Heaven! So shall this night soon end in joy!
I was on a flight several years ago that was that was going through some pretty nasty turbulence, and an image came to my mind of God's hands holding up the wings. The comfort of that image stayed with me for a long time. Now, I'm comforted by "So shall this night soon end in joy."
Music is definitely one of God's gifts to my soul.
May 30, 2007
An Example of God's Grace
Well I still first remember the first time
I felt the power of your kiss
It hit me like a bolt of lightning
I said I never will recover from this
And like the words from the mouth of a prophet
I have lived to see those words come true
Just look at me now, I'm still reeling
With every little kiss I'm reminded
How wonderful it is to be in love with you
With every little look
With every little touch
With every little kiss
Like a moth being drawn to a candle
This is something that I can't resist
I guess you could say I'm addicted
Cause I keep coming back again and again
And after all of the storms we have weathered
All the seasons of change we've been though
Well Somehow the flame keeps getting brighter
With every little kiss I'm reminded
How wonderful it is to be in love with you
With every little look
With every little touch
With every kiss you give me just a little taste of heaven
Just one more good gift that God has given
I don't want to miss one single little kiss
"With Every Little Kiss" by Steven Curtis Chapman
My wife and I recently celebrated our 21st wedding anniversary. 21 years. The entire concept is astonishing to me.
Every time I look at her, I'm amazed that a woman like that would love a man like me. I still experience pangs of fear, that she'll come to her senses and realize that she deserves someone better.
Having her as my life's partner gives me concrete proof of the existence of God. As the revered hymn "Amazing Grace" puts it, "Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me." God loves me in spite of the fact that I'm totally unworthy of that love. Same goes for my wife. In a world where there was no God, this would simply be impossible.
She is my wife, my friend, my confidante, and all things in between. I apologize, but I simply do not have the words to express all that she means to me. I also won't share EVERYTHING she means to me in this venue!
I felt the power of your kiss
It hit me like a bolt of lightning
I said I never will recover from this
And like the words from the mouth of a prophet
I have lived to see those words come true
Just look at me now, I'm still reeling
With every little kiss I'm reminded
How wonderful it is to be in love with you
With every little look
With every little touch
With every little kiss
Like a moth being drawn to a candle
This is something that I can't resist
I guess you could say I'm addicted
Cause I keep coming back again and again
And after all of the storms we have weathered
All the seasons of change we've been though
Well Somehow the flame keeps getting brighter
With every little kiss I'm reminded
How wonderful it is to be in love with you
With every little look
With every little touch
With every kiss you give me just a little taste of heaven
Just one more good gift that God has given
I don't want to miss one single little kiss
"With Every Little Kiss" by Steven Curtis Chapman
My wife and I recently celebrated our 21st wedding anniversary. 21 years. The entire concept is astonishing to me.
Every time I look at her, I'm amazed that a woman like that would love a man like me. I still experience pangs of fear, that she'll come to her senses and realize that she deserves someone better.
Having her as my life's partner gives me concrete proof of the existence of God. As the revered hymn "Amazing Grace" puts it, "Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me." God loves me in spite of the fact that I'm totally unworthy of that love. Same goes for my wife. In a world where there was no God, this would simply be impossible.
She is my wife, my friend, my confidante, and all things in between. I apologize, but I simply do not have the words to express all that she means to me. I also won't share EVERYTHING she means to me in this venue!
The reason she isn't listed as one of my Mentors is that she means so much more to me than that.
I simply thank my gracious Lord for bringing her into my life!
May 28, 2007
Memories
Wow - it's been a couple of months since I added anything on here. Time flies when you're busy I guess.
I'm approaching one of those milestone moments in life - my 30 year high school reunion. Unfortunately I'm not going to be able to make it to the actual reunion, but it has given me opportunities to re-connect with many of the people I grew up with and went to school with. Looking through a 30 year lense, I realize what a remarkable group of people I was privileged to know.
It also gives me occasion to engage in a little self-relfection. Again through the lense of time, I see a young man who was often very engaged socially and yet frequently lonely. I see a person who could be often bitingly sarcastic and critical of others. I often long to be able to rewind to those days, mark down every hurtful thing I ever said to someone and offer up my profound apologies.
I also carried an inordinate amount of pride, particularly in my "intellect". Decent grades in school came pretty easily, and I was a very strong test taker. I somehow managed to morph that into me being some kind of ivory tower intellectual.
But what did I learn from these things? I've come to know that God has used these experiences to shape the man that I am continuing to become.
Let's start with the self applied "intellectual" label. On this one, I have to go back to one of the "mentors" that I've already posted about - C.S. Lewis. When I read Mere Christianity, one of the clearest realizations I came to was that my so-called intellect was folly. I was not the smartest person around, and knowledge is useless when held up to wisdom. As I've aged, I've noticed that my capacity to absorb more knowledge is diminishing, and I'm fine with that. What I pray for now is wisdom and discernment. I pray that He would help me to make the best decisions I can. I pray that He would help me to grow in my love for Him and for his children. I still have so very far to go.
As far as my penchant for nastiness goes, I still have many miles to go to overcome that. I will say, however, that occasioanally I find myself learning from that as well. Let me tell a little story on that point.
I have a beautiful, delightful daughter. She is currently 13, and has caught the drama bug that infects her Dad. A couple of years ago, we were doing a sketch for one of the church services. The premise of the sketch was 2 guys going out to collect for a food drive. One of them (me) was apprehensive, the other one was trying to show him that things wouldn't be that bad.
The two guys started going up to doors and met several different characters. One of the characters - a young teenage girl who was "punked out", was played by my daughter (she's very tall so can pull off roles older than her actual age).
When we arrived at church that morning, she was dressed in a short black skirt, her hair was colored a bright pink and going in many different directions, she had fishnets on her arms, a ripped sweatshirt and generally looked like a rather "undesirable" teenager. She looked perfect to play the role.
What shocked me, however, was that from the minute we walked in, she started drawing stares. As we got out of the car in the parking lot, a lady drove by throwing eye daggers at her. Many other people within the church - of all ages - gave her disapproving glares as we walked down the hall.
What was going on? Don't you people know my daughter? She's sweet and kind and loves the Lord. She's not a punk! How can you judge people like this?
(Before anyone forms an undeserved impression of our church, it is NOT a stodgy, "everyone dressed to the hilt" type of place. To give you an indication, I tend to wear shorts much of the year, and you see very few suits and ties in the place. I guess it just shows that people are humans wherever you go.)
A still small voice said "Hmm, suppose you ever judge people like that, Dale? Judge them based on looks alone? Automatically pigeon hole them into some category based on their looks or some other characteristic?"
Guilty as charged, Lord.
I'd love to say that I never judge people anymore, but I'd be a bald faced liar. I do find myself checking myself more often, and pray that He continues to open my eyes to my shortcomings.
So for whatever it's worth, I offer a blanket apology to all of those many people I have offended in the past. Please forgive me.
I'm approaching one of those milestone moments in life - my 30 year high school reunion. Unfortunately I'm not going to be able to make it to the actual reunion, but it has given me opportunities to re-connect with many of the people I grew up with and went to school with. Looking through a 30 year lense, I realize what a remarkable group of people I was privileged to know.
It also gives me occasion to engage in a little self-relfection. Again through the lense of time, I see a young man who was often very engaged socially and yet frequently lonely. I see a person who could be often bitingly sarcastic and critical of others. I often long to be able to rewind to those days, mark down every hurtful thing I ever said to someone and offer up my profound apologies.
I also carried an inordinate amount of pride, particularly in my "intellect". Decent grades in school came pretty easily, and I was a very strong test taker. I somehow managed to morph that into me being some kind of ivory tower intellectual.
But what did I learn from these things? I've come to know that God has used these experiences to shape the man that I am continuing to become.
Let's start with the self applied "intellectual" label. On this one, I have to go back to one of the "mentors" that I've already posted about - C.S. Lewis. When I read Mere Christianity, one of the clearest realizations I came to was that my so-called intellect was folly. I was not the smartest person around, and knowledge is useless when held up to wisdom. As I've aged, I've noticed that my capacity to absorb more knowledge is diminishing, and I'm fine with that. What I pray for now is wisdom and discernment. I pray that He would help me to make the best decisions I can. I pray that He would help me to grow in my love for Him and for his children. I still have so very far to go.
As far as my penchant for nastiness goes, I still have many miles to go to overcome that. I will say, however, that occasioanally I find myself learning from that as well. Let me tell a little story on that point.
I have a beautiful, delightful daughter. She is currently 13, and has caught the drama bug that infects her Dad. A couple of years ago, we were doing a sketch for one of the church services. The premise of the sketch was 2 guys going out to collect for a food drive. One of them (me) was apprehensive, the other one was trying to show him that things wouldn't be that bad.
The two guys started going up to doors and met several different characters. One of the characters - a young teenage girl who was "punked out", was played by my daughter (she's very tall so can pull off roles older than her actual age).
When we arrived at church that morning, she was dressed in a short black skirt, her hair was colored a bright pink and going in many different directions, she had fishnets on her arms, a ripped sweatshirt and generally looked like a rather "undesirable" teenager. She looked perfect to play the role.
What shocked me, however, was that from the minute we walked in, she started drawing stares. As we got out of the car in the parking lot, a lady drove by throwing eye daggers at her. Many other people within the church - of all ages - gave her disapproving glares as we walked down the hall.
What was going on? Don't you people know my daughter? She's sweet and kind and loves the Lord. She's not a punk! How can you judge people like this?
(Before anyone forms an undeserved impression of our church, it is NOT a stodgy, "everyone dressed to the hilt" type of place. To give you an indication, I tend to wear shorts much of the year, and you see very few suits and ties in the place. I guess it just shows that people are humans wherever you go.)
A still small voice said "Hmm, suppose you ever judge people like that, Dale? Judge them based on looks alone? Automatically pigeon hole them into some category based on their looks or some other characteristic?"
Guilty as charged, Lord.
I'd love to say that I never judge people anymore, but I'd be a bald faced liar. I do find myself checking myself more often, and pray that He continues to open my eyes to my shortcomings.
So for whatever it's worth, I offer a blanket apology to all of those many people I have offended in the past. Please forgive me.
March 25, 2007
Busy busy busy
I'm finding myself at a loss for words
And the funny thing is, it's okay
The last thing I need is to be heard
But to hear what You would say
From Word of God Speak by MercyMe
Haven't posted too much lately because I've been pretty busy with work. Since I'm a self-employed consultant, being busy with work is necessarily evidence of God's provision in my life. Do I always stop to realize that fact and thank Him? Sadly, no I don't. Of late, however, I definitely have.
So over the past couple of weeks I've been out in Chicago working hideously long days at a grocery distribution center. I flew home Friday night. This morning (Sunday), my son and I are packing up the car and heading out on a college visit road trip to California. We'll get home next Saturday. Next Sunday I get back on a plane for Chicago.
Bear with me folks - life doesn't always allow time for me to post my thoughts, but I have to pay the bills.
And the funny thing is, it's okay
The last thing I need is to be heard
But to hear what You would say
From Word of God Speak by MercyMe
Haven't posted too much lately because I've been pretty busy with work. Since I'm a self-employed consultant, being busy with work is necessarily evidence of God's provision in my life. Do I always stop to realize that fact and thank Him? Sadly, no I don't. Of late, however, I definitely have.
So over the past couple of weeks I've been out in Chicago working hideously long days at a grocery distribution center. I flew home Friday night. This morning (Sunday), my son and I are packing up the car and heading out on a college visit road trip to California. We'll get home next Saturday. Next Sunday I get back on a plane for Chicago.
Bear with me folks - life doesn't always allow time for me to post my thoughts, but I have to pay the bills.
March 6, 2007
Kirby in Iraq - Update
For anyone who responded in prayer to my earlier post about Kirby - our former neighbor serving his second tour in Iraq - I want to thank you and to give you an update.
We received an email update from him today. While he spends quite a bit of time "in country" - traveling to different sites in Iraq for his duties - his base of operations is in the Al Faw Palace. I found a link below to give you an idea of the place:
http://midnight.hushedcasket.com/2006/05/26/al-faw-palace-and-aussie-football/
Please continue to pray for him and his family. I'll leave you with the last paragraph of his email:
"Well, need to get back at it. All's well here, and let me reinforce what I have always said... the world is not coming to an end. We have a really tough fight on our hands, and mistakes have been made, but that is the nature of this business. Keep the young kids out here in convoys and kicking down doors in your thoughts."
We received an email update from him today. While he spends quite a bit of time "in country" - traveling to different sites in Iraq for his duties - his base of operations is in the Al Faw Palace. I found a link below to give you an idea of the place:
http://midnight.hushedcasket.com/2006/05/26/al-faw-palace-and-aussie-football/
Please continue to pray for him and his family. I'll leave you with the last paragraph of his email:
"Well, need to get back at it. All's well here, and let me reinforce what I have always said... the world is not coming to an end. We have a really tough fight on our hands, and mistakes have been made, but that is the nature of this business. Keep the young kids out here in convoys and kicking down doors in your thoughts."
March 3, 2007
On A Lighter Note - Being a Fan
Some folks who are in regular contact with me have already heard this, but I'm going to write about it nonetheless!
I love football. Well, the professional game doesn't interest me all that much, but I really enjoy watching the local high school play and I've been a very avid University of Oregon Ducks fan for many years. When I was attending the college, the team was pretty pitiful, but I still enjoyed the atmosphere surrounding the games. Their success over the past decade has made it even sweeter. This past season brought an event, however, that stopped me in my tracks.
Oregon played a very highly regarded Oklahoma team and pulled out a victory - a victory aided by a controversial official's call close to the end of the game. Truth be told, this game - like virtually all games - had errors committed by the officials that aided both sides. The controversy, however, exploded across the entire country. Virtually every media outlet discussed it ad nauseum. Fans on both sides overreacted horribly. I don't recall any instances of physical violence, but there were certainly stories of cars being vandalized and many vulgar epithets were thrown back and forth.
It wasn't only the fans of these two teams who were getting in on the action. The following week I received an email from a good friend who happens to be a fan of Oregon's traditional arch rival - Oregon State. He was basically trying to get me to admit that Oregon didn't deserve to win the game, etc.
I responded with an email that was pretty testy in tone. When his reply came back, basically saying "Whoa Nellie!", I knew something was very wrong here.
What would I have done had it been Oregon State in the situation? Yup - I would have been trying to get every OSU fan I knew to admit that they didn't deserve the win. This took me off in a new direction.
What is it about being a fan of a sports team that gives me a right to belittle the fans of other teams? I don't play for the team, in fact I never even played organized football. Yes, I attended the school, but how is it that a victory by "my" team makes me a superior human being to the fan of the other team or teams? Why do I get sullen and depressed when "my" team loses? Why should I let their success of failure have any bearing on my demeanor at all?
When I looked at these questions objectively (or at least tried to), I realized that I had to step back from this obsession. Cheering for a team doesn't make me any better than the next fellow. Letting their success or failure affect my demeanor is so obviously wrong as to be laughable. Will a win by the Oregon Ducks help me to overcome any of my personal challenges? Will it make the world a better place, solve hunger or accomplish anything else beyond swelling the chests of their fans? Of course it won't.
I have held a belief for a very long time that our society is a mirror reflection of ancient Rome. Civilization has changed enough to preclude us from attempting to conquer the known world militarily, but this country has done a pretty effective job of conquering culturally and economically. What are our sporting events if not modern equivalents of the gladiatorial games held in antiquity? Our society - for the most part - has developed beyond the blood lust of those days, but the irrational devotion is very similar.
I could make some kind of analogy of the obsession with my team's success being an addiction like alcoholism. After all, of a former president can be described as addicted to sex, why can't I claim this addiction. Actually, now that I think about it, I rather like the latter comparison. Sex - if practiced within the confines of a marriage and without any truly bizarre behaviors - is wonderful. A person need not abstain from sex to keep it under control.
The same goes for being a sports fan. To say that I'll never watch another game or cheer when my team scores would be foolish and needlessly masochistic. I just have to keep it rational and within the confines of the game!
I love football. Well, the professional game doesn't interest me all that much, but I really enjoy watching the local high school play and I've been a very avid University of Oregon Ducks fan for many years. When I was attending the college, the team was pretty pitiful, but I still enjoyed the atmosphere surrounding the games. Their success over the past decade has made it even sweeter. This past season brought an event, however, that stopped me in my tracks.
Oregon played a very highly regarded Oklahoma team and pulled out a victory - a victory aided by a controversial official's call close to the end of the game. Truth be told, this game - like virtually all games - had errors committed by the officials that aided both sides. The controversy, however, exploded across the entire country. Virtually every media outlet discussed it ad nauseum. Fans on both sides overreacted horribly. I don't recall any instances of physical violence, but there were certainly stories of cars being vandalized and many vulgar epithets were thrown back and forth.
It wasn't only the fans of these two teams who were getting in on the action. The following week I received an email from a good friend who happens to be a fan of Oregon's traditional arch rival - Oregon State. He was basically trying to get me to admit that Oregon didn't deserve to win the game, etc.
I responded with an email that was pretty testy in tone. When his reply came back, basically saying "Whoa Nellie!", I knew something was very wrong here.
What would I have done had it been Oregon State in the situation? Yup - I would have been trying to get every OSU fan I knew to admit that they didn't deserve the win. This took me off in a new direction.
What is it about being a fan of a sports team that gives me a right to belittle the fans of other teams? I don't play for the team, in fact I never even played organized football. Yes, I attended the school, but how is it that a victory by "my" team makes me a superior human being to the fan of the other team or teams? Why do I get sullen and depressed when "my" team loses? Why should I let their success of failure have any bearing on my demeanor at all?
When I looked at these questions objectively (or at least tried to), I realized that I had to step back from this obsession. Cheering for a team doesn't make me any better than the next fellow. Letting their success or failure affect my demeanor is so obviously wrong as to be laughable. Will a win by the Oregon Ducks help me to overcome any of my personal challenges? Will it make the world a better place, solve hunger or accomplish anything else beyond swelling the chests of their fans? Of course it won't.
I have held a belief for a very long time that our society is a mirror reflection of ancient Rome. Civilization has changed enough to preclude us from attempting to conquer the known world militarily, but this country has done a pretty effective job of conquering culturally and economically. What are our sporting events if not modern equivalents of the gladiatorial games held in antiquity? Our society - for the most part - has developed beyond the blood lust of those days, but the irrational devotion is very similar.
I could make some kind of analogy of the obsession with my team's success being an addiction like alcoholism. After all, of a former president can be described as addicted to sex, why can't I claim this addiction. Actually, now that I think about it, I rather like the latter comparison. Sex - if practiced within the confines of a marriage and without any truly bizarre behaviors - is wonderful. A person need not abstain from sex to keep it under control.
The same goes for being a sports fan. To say that I'll never watch another game or cheer when my team scores would be foolish and needlessly masochistic. I just have to keep it rational and within the confines of the game!
March 2, 2007
Mentors - Jeff Crosno
We now take a look at the first of my mentors who is still among the living. I've known him for around 15 years now. Our worlds have drawn apart significantly over the past few years, but I still cherish his wisdom. After becoming a Christian - or coming back to Christ, to be more accurate - I was attending a relatively large church - one that my wife had been a member of since she was 10 years old. For roughly my first 10 years there, it would have been considered a "traditional" church - focused on having outstanding preaching, a remarkably talented group of singers (the music tended to be 18th, 19th and early 20th century vintage), and ministries that were focused on taking care of each other. Along came Pastor Crosno. Jeff was a good preacher, but his messages tended to be more practical and less the soaring theological flights taken by his predecessors. Since we were quickly closing in on the 21st century, he also tried to take the music ministry from the 18th century to a blend of the 19th and 20th. That met with some resistance – particularly when the new Music Minister brought in a black gospel group for a Sunday night service!
All of that was well and good, but what impressed me most was that he brought the concept of servanthood to our congregation. Our Lord bowed so low as to wash the feet of his disciples. He fed the hungry and poor, healed those who were afflicted. He reached out to those less fortunate. So, as Christians, are we not supposed to emulate what He did for us? As a church, should we not be reaching out to those in our community who need aid? Of course we should.
I considered Jeff a good friend. When he left to take on another church in a different city, we decided to make a move as well for various reasons. The body of believers that we have found embraces the concept of serving. Is it perfect? Obviously not, but I’ve found that the more a group of Christians concentrates on serving others, the more they WANT to serve others. Hmm. Maybe that’s what Pastor Crosno was trying to tell us.
Jeff also gave me a piece of advice that I hold dear to this day. As mentioned in a previous post, I went from a 5 day a week in the same office corporate job to a position as a consultant for a software company. In case you don’t know, that type of position involves travel. A LOT of travel. When the software company offered me the position, I wanted it. Badly. I mean I REALLY wanted it! But what about the responsibility to my family? At that point I had a 3 year old and a 7 year old at home. I’d be heading out on the road 30-40 weeks a year.
First I talked to Linda. “This is your dream job, Dale. You need to do it.” Still not satisfied – why do men always fail to listen to their wives? – I went to talk to Jeff – as a friend and as a pastor. Trying to cover my bases, however, I phrased it in Christian Speak.
“How do I know if this is God’s will for my life?” (How’s that? Not bad, huh!?)
“Dale, a lot of people get hung up on looking for the ‘green lights’. Is this the direction I’m supposed to go, Lord? Are you sure, Lord? I would suggest you pay more attention to the ‘red lights’. If you are seeking God’s will and delighting in Him - truly committed to Him - He will give you the desires of your heart. If you see a red light – something that tells you that you’ll have to compromise your ethics, values or principles, then you probably shouldn’t go down that path.”
Were there any red lights? Well, being away from home would be tough, but on the weeks when I wasn’t on the road, I’d be home with the family 24/7. How many other people can say that they can be at home 12-22 weeks a year? So that didn’t seem to compromise anything. Other than that, it looked to be all systems go. I’ve never looked back and have never regretted the decision.
As I said, I’ve shared that piece of advice many times – and it is normally received enthusiastically. So thank you Jeff, for giving me some of your insight. Thank you for showing me the value of serving others. Above all else, thank you very much for being a friend.
Trust in the LORD and do good; dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture. Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the LORD; trust in him and he will do this: He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn, the justice of your cause like the noonday sun. Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him…(Psalm 37:5-7a, NIV).
All of that was well and good, but what impressed me most was that he brought the concept of servanthood to our congregation. Our Lord bowed so low as to wash the feet of his disciples. He fed the hungry and poor, healed those who were afflicted. He reached out to those less fortunate. So, as Christians, are we not supposed to emulate what He did for us? As a church, should we not be reaching out to those in our community who need aid? Of course we should.
I considered Jeff a good friend. When he left to take on another church in a different city, we decided to make a move as well for various reasons. The body of believers that we have found embraces the concept of serving. Is it perfect? Obviously not, but I’ve found that the more a group of Christians concentrates on serving others, the more they WANT to serve others. Hmm. Maybe that’s what Pastor Crosno was trying to tell us.
Jeff also gave me a piece of advice that I hold dear to this day. As mentioned in a previous post, I went from a 5 day a week in the same office corporate job to a position as a consultant for a software company. In case you don’t know, that type of position involves travel. A LOT of travel. When the software company offered me the position, I wanted it. Badly. I mean I REALLY wanted it! But what about the responsibility to my family? At that point I had a 3 year old and a 7 year old at home. I’d be heading out on the road 30-40 weeks a year.
First I talked to Linda. “This is your dream job, Dale. You need to do it.” Still not satisfied – why do men always fail to listen to their wives? – I went to talk to Jeff – as a friend and as a pastor. Trying to cover my bases, however, I phrased it in Christian Speak.
“How do I know if this is God’s will for my life?” (How’s that? Not bad, huh!?)
“Dale, a lot of people get hung up on looking for the ‘green lights’. Is this the direction I’m supposed to go, Lord? Are you sure, Lord? I would suggest you pay more attention to the ‘red lights’. If you are seeking God’s will and delighting in Him - truly committed to Him - He will give you the desires of your heart. If you see a red light – something that tells you that you’ll have to compromise your ethics, values or principles, then you probably shouldn’t go down that path.”
Were there any red lights? Well, being away from home would be tough, but on the weeks when I wasn’t on the road, I’d be home with the family 24/7. How many other people can say that they can be at home 12-22 weeks a year? So that didn’t seem to compromise anything. Other than that, it looked to be all systems go. I’ve never looked back and have never regretted the decision.
As I said, I’ve shared that piece of advice many times – and it is normally received enthusiastically. So thank you Jeff, for giving me some of your insight. Thank you for showing me the value of serving others. Above all else, thank you very much for being a friend.
Trust in the LORD and do good; dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture. Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the LORD; trust in him and he will do this: He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn, the justice of your cause like the noonday sun. Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him…(Psalm 37:5-7a, NIV).
Mentors - C.S. Lewis
Okay, I figure if Yancey can pull John Donne out of the Middle Ages and credit him as a mentor, I can at least pull a man who lived during my lifetime. I'm not going to delve too deeply into Lewis' personal history - there have been numerous biographies written about the man utilizing much better research than I am capable of. This post will therefore concentrate on the impact Lewis has had on my life.
I actually have to start with a little bit of history on myself. Somewhere in the dark mists of my childhood, I experienced my first realization of my own sins. My parents had a "bank" in the house where they would toss loose coins and some dollar bills, and I broke into the bank and stole most of the money - regaling some friends with candy and soda. I was caught, of course, and spent the rest of the summer trying to figure out ways in which I could repay the money.
Another event happened that summer, however. Some new kids moved in across the street. As I got to know them, they invited me to attend what would today be called a "Backyard Bible School". It was here that I first heard of God's grace through his Son Jesus Christ - that my sins would be forgiven if I would ask Christ into my heart. I was a child who was devastated by guilt, and here was forgiveness for the asking. I asked.
From what I remember, however, the reaction at home wasn't quite so ecstatic! My father forbade me from associating with those kids again. My oldest sister told me how "those people" didn't allow attending movies or anything fun. Apparently I had fallen in amongst members of the Alliance Church of Canada - an evangelical denomination. Oh the horror!
So the boy drifted away from Christ, but when I look back, I realize that Christ did not drift away from me. I became a self-styled agnostic bordering on atheist, but He was always there, keeping me safe, holding me back from getting too deeply involved in a life that would destroy me.
Fast forward about 16 years. I'm once again grappling with the decision to give my life to Christ, or rather give it BACK to Christ. During this process, I was pounding Linda (the woman I've been happily married to for almost 21 years) with all kinds of questions. You see, at this point in my life I saw myself as some kind of intellectual (ah, the folly of youth!). Linda patiently answered many of the questions, but I wouldn't stop. One day - I think out of exasperation - she handed me a book called "Mere Christianity".
For those unfamiliar with it, Mere Christianity actually started out as a series of radio broadcasts that Lewis delivered during World War II. The book requires concentration, but it is written in a style that makes you feel like you're sitting by the fireplace, listening to a man that you very much respect and admire. Lewis calmly took all of the myriad of arguments that I had against Christianity, examined each one, then systematically and logically destroyed it. "Christ was a moral teacher, but He certainly wasn't the Son of God". "Well," Lewis explained "based on what He said, Christ was either the Son of God or a colossal nut case" (I'm paraphrasing). By the end of the book, I realized that the foundation for my unbelief had been removed and I was faced with either accepting Him as my Savior or living the rest of my life in a lie that was out there for all the world to see.
So Christ - the Hound of Heaven - pursued me for years and finally caught me. Or did I catch Him? Doesn't really matter either way. Lewis was able to break through my pseudo-intellectual veneer and help me to realize the truth.
In the years since, I have also enjoyed many of Lewis' other books. The Great Divorce is an entertaining, thought provoking suggestion of what Heaven might be like. The Problem of Pain grapples with - well - the problem of pain. (As a quick aside, Lewis also had someone whose writings impacted him - GK Chesterton. Chesterton pointed out that as big as the problem of pain is for Christians, the problem of pleasure is even more insurmountable for an honest atheist). Lewis' The Screwtape Letters was not only wonderful entertainment, it also provided me with a character for one of my first acting performances.
I know that my beady little brain has no comprehension of what Heaven will be like. I do know, however, that I am very much looking forward to meeting this man in person when I get there.
I actually have to start with a little bit of history on myself. Somewhere in the dark mists of my childhood, I experienced my first realization of my own sins. My parents had a "bank" in the house where they would toss loose coins and some dollar bills, and I broke into the bank and stole most of the money - regaling some friends with candy and soda. I was caught, of course, and spent the rest of the summer trying to figure out ways in which I could repay the money.
Another event happened that summer, however. Some new kids moved in across the street. As I got to know them, they invited me to attend what would today be called a "Backyard Bible School". It was here that I first heard of God's grace through his Son Jesus Christ - that my sins would be forgiven if I would ask Christ into my heart. I was a child who was devastated by guilt, and here was forgiveness for the asking. I asked.
From what I remember, however, the reaction at home wasn't quite so ecstatic! My father forbade me from associating with those kids again. My oldest sister told me how "those people" didn't allow attending movies or anything fun. Apparently I had fallen in amongst members of the Alliance Church of Canada - an evangelical denomination. Oh the horror!
So the boy drifted away from Christ, but when I look back, I realize that Christ did not drift away from me. I became a self-styled agnostic bordering on atheist, but He was always there, keeping me safe, holding me back from getting too deeply involved in a life that would destroy me.
Fast forward about 16 years. I'm once again grappling with the decision to give my life to Christ, or rather give it BACK to Christ. During this process, I was pounding Linda (the woman I've been happily married to for almost 21 years) with all kinds of questions. You see, at this point in my life I saw myself as some kind of intellectual (ah, the folly of youth!). Linda patiently answered many of the questions, but I wouldn't stop. One day - I think out of exasperation - she handed me a book called "Mere Christianity".
For those unfamiliar with it, Mere Christianity actually started out as a series of radio broadcasts that Lewis delivered during World War II. The book requires concentration, but it is written in a style that makes you feel like you're sitting by the fireplace, listening to a man that you very much respect and admire. Lewis calmly took all of the myriad of arguments that I had against Christianity, examined each one, then systematically and logically destroyed it. "Christ was a moral teacher, but He certainly wasn't the Son of God". "Well," Lewis explained "based on what He said, Christ was either the Son of God or a colossal nut case" (I'm paraphrasing). By the end of the book, I realized that the foundation for my unbelief had been removed and I was faced with either accepting Him as my Savior or living the rest of my life in a lie that was out there for all the world to see.
So Christ - the Hound of Heaven - pursued me for years and finally caught me. Or did I catch Him? Doesn't really matter either way. Lewis was able to break through my pseudo-intellectual veneer and help me to realize the truth.
In the years since, I have also enjoyed many of Lewis' other books. The Great Divorce is an entertaining, thought provoking suggestion of what Heaven might be like. The Problem of Pain grapples with - well - the problem of pain. (As a quick aside, Lewis also had someone whose writings impacted him - GK Chesterton. Chesterton pointed out that as big as the problem of pain is for Christians, the problem of pleasure is even more insurmountable for an honest atheist). Lewis' The Screwtape Letters was not only wonderful entertainment, it also provided me with a character for one of my first acting performances.
I know that my beady little brain has no comprehension of what Heaven will be like. I do know, however, that I am very much looking forward to meeting this man in person when I get there.
February 28, 2007
Dealing with "Thank you"
If you're reading this post, chances are pretty good that you know me. Even if you don't, if you read my profile, you'll notice that I include "amateur actor" as one of my descriptions.
I don't have ANY professional experience in acting. As a matter of fact, the only acting "class" I've ever had are a couple of different workshops put on by the Dramatic Arts Pastor at our church. It's a passion that I didn't even discover within until I was in my 30's.
So what makes me think I have any talent in the craft? Frankly, I don't. I've played roles ranging from the Apostle Thomas to Screwtape, from a middle aged bachelor living with his bachelor brother to Ezekiel. I've acted in front of audiences ranging in age from pre-schoolers to adults and in size from rooms of 10 to 1500 people. Through it all - every single time I walk onto the stage, I experience a feeling of "How in the world did YOU end up doing this?"
Please understand that I am not trying to convey a message that I'm some sort of Oscar winning talent. I don't believe that in the least. I am constantly amazed whenever someone walks up to me and praises my work. Even when that happens, I often get the feeling that "they're just trying to make me feel better". In our church community, however, they keep asking me to play roles, so maybe - just maybe - there's something there.
Which brings me back to the topic of this post. From a Christian perspective, how does an artist respond when someone walks up to them and tells them that their work is fantastic or simply says "Thank you"?
Our society is permeated, marinated and contaminated by celebrities and wannabes. I'm convinced that it is impossible to go through a day without hearing about some superstar actor, rock star, model or someone who is famous for nothing (Paris Hilton & Anna Nicole Smith come to mind). These people are constantly barraged with awards, praise and down right groveling. Some of them have worked very hard at their craft. Others have stumbled into stardom. Regardless of how they got there, they deal constantly with people who are worshipping them.
The Body of Christ - at least in the US - also has its celebrities. Christian musicians ranging from the Gaithers to Switchfoot have brought contemporary music back to what music was meant to be - a method of glorifying God. While there are relatively few major scandals within the Christian music industry (relatively being the key word here), I know that many of these artists struggle with the fame associated with their success. One of the more successful of these groups was DC Talk. They wrote a song that I believe should rattle through the brain of every Christian performer whenever they're about to walk on stage:
http://www.lyricsfreak.com/d/d.c.+talk/what+if+i+stumble_20037744.html
All of this leads up to my original intent in writing this post: How do I respond when someone comes up to me after a performance and says "That was fantastic" or "That really touched my heart" or simply "Thank you"? Although I have absolutely zero musical talent, I know the musicians have to deal with this as well - since I've gone up and said those things to them on a regular basis.
So how DO I respond to it? And, better yet - How SHOULD I respond to it?
To begin with, I've developed my own way of thanking the performers. "Thank you so much for using God's gifts to glorify Him". To me that is acknowledging where the gift comes from and what it was meant to be used for. It also acknowledges, however, the excitement any artist should feel at being blessed with those gifts.
When someone comes up to me and says "You were great", however, I get really uncomfortable and even want to squirm out of the situation. I KNOW that what happens on that stage would be a disaster if God wasn't in control of it. I immediately want to launch into an explanation of this for the person addressing me, but when you're standing in the foyer of the church and hundreds of people are milling about and past you, it's not particularly easy to do that. I suppose I could say something like "It's all Him - I had nothing to do with it", but I fear that this would come across as rejecting their compliment - something that we're far too well trained at.
I have a recent example of what I'm talking about here. When someone asks me to pray for them, I've developed a habit of typing the prayer out and emailing it to them. I also launch "sneak attacks" on occasion where I'll send these prayers to folks who didn't necessarily ask for them. I recently sent one of these to a man in our church who is being considered for a position of church elder.
Apparently the "e-prayer" meant a lot to him. He sent me a wonderful response and then returned the "sneak attack" by coming up to me in the church foyer a couple of weeks ago to thank me and tell me how much he appreciated it. As I'm standing there listening to him, I go into absolute panic mode. "What do I say to this? How do I respond?" I'm very much afraid I came across as a blithering idiot, and that he now thinks that there's no way this guy could have written that prayer!
So I'm in a huge quandary. I usually fall back to a simple "Thank you" or "No - thank YOU" or something equally inane.
In an effort to generate some interaction with this blog, I'd invite other folks' thoughts on this. I know of a couple of artists (even using that label on myself feels weird) who've visited this, so PLEASE share!
I don't have ANY professional experience in acting. As a matter of fact, the only acting "class" I've ever had are a couple of different workshops put on by the Dramatic Arts Pastor at our church. It's a passion that I didn't even discover within until I was in my 30's.
So what makes me think I have any talent in the craft? Frankly, I don't. I've played roles ranging from the Apostle Thomas to Screwtape, from a middle aged bachelor living with his bachelor brother to Ezekiel. I've acted in front of audiences ranging in age from pre-schoolers to adults and in size from rooms of 10 to 1500 people. Through it all - every single time I walk onto the stage, I experience a feeling of "How in the world did YOU end up doing this?"
Please understand that I am not trying to convey a message that I'm some sort of Oscar winning talent. I don't believe that in the least. I am constantly amazed whenever someone walks up to me and praises my work. Even when that happens, I often get the feeling that "they're just trying to make me feel better". In our church community, however, they keep asking me to play roles, so maybe - just maybe - there's something there.
Which brings me back to the topic of this post. From a Christian perspective, how does an artist respond when someone walks up to them and tells them that their work is fantastic or simply says "Thank you"?
Our society is permeated, marinated and contaminated by celebrities and wannabes. I'm convinced that it is impossible to go through a day without hearing about some superstar actor, rock star, model or someone who is famous for nothing (Paris Hilton & Anna Nicole Smith come to mind). These people are constantly barraged with awards, praise and down right groveling. Some of them have worked very hard at their craft. Others have stumbled into stardom. Regardless of how they got there, they deal constantly with people who are worshipping them.
The Body of Christ - at least in the US - also has its celebrities. Christian musicians ranging from the Gaithers to Switchfoot have brought contemporary music back to what music was meant to be - a method of glorifying God. While there are relatively few major scandals within the Christian music industry (relatively being the key word here), I know that many of these artists struggle with the fame associated with their success. One of the more successful of these groups was DC Talk. They wrote a song that I believe should rattle through the brain of every Christian performer whenever they're about to walk on stage:
http://www.lyricsfreak.com/d/d.c.+talk/what+if+i+stumble_20037744.html
All of this leads up to my original intent in writing this post: How do I respond when someone comes up to me after a performance and says "That was fantastic" or "That really touched my heart" or simply "Thank you"? Although I have absolutely zero musical talent, I know the musicians have to deal with this as well - since I've gone up and said those things to them on a regular basis.
So how DO I respond to it? And, better yet - How SHOULD I respond to it?
To begin with, I've developed my own way of thanking the performers. "Thank you so much for using God's gifts to glorify Him". To me that is acknowledging where the gift comes from and what it was meant to be used for. It also acknowledges, however, the excitement any artist should feel at being blessed with those gifts.
When someone comes up to me and says "You were great", however, I get really uncomfortable and even want to squirm out of the situation. I KNOW that what happens on that stage would be a disaster if God wasn't in control of it. I immediately want to launch into an explanation of this for the person addressing me, but when you're standing in the foyer of the church and hundreds of people are milling about and past you, it's not particularly easy to do that. I suppose I could say something like "It's all Him - I had nothing to do with it", but I fear that this would come across as rejecting their compliment - something that we're far too well trained at.
I have a recent example of what I'm talking about here. When someone asks me to pray for them, I've developed a habit of typing the prayer out and emailing it to them. I also launch "sneak attacks" on occasion where I'll send these prayers to folks who didn't necessarily ask for them. I recently sent one of these to a man in our church who is being considered for a position of church elder.
Apparently the "e-prayer" meant a lot to him. He sent me a wonderful response and then returned the "sneak attack" by coming up to me in the church foyer a couple of weeks ago to thank me and tell me how much he appreciated it. As I'm standing there listening to him, I go into absolute panic mode. "What do I say to this? How do I respond?" I'm very much afraid I came across as a blithering idiot, and that he now thinks that there's no way this guy could have written that prayer!
So I'm in a huge quandary. I usually fall back to a simple "Thank you" or "No - thank YOU" or something equally inane.
In an effort to generate some interaction with this blog, I'd invite other folks' thoughts on this. I know of a couple of artists (even using that label on myself feels weird) who've visited this, so PLEASE share!
February 13, 2007
My Friend Heading to Iraq
I received an e-mail Sunday from a dear friend that is heading back to Iraq for his second tour. Kirby's wife Linda, and their two sons remain behind in Ohio. Kirby had retired from the US Navy prior to the events leading to this war, but has offered his knowledge and service to our country in time of need. This morning I would like to post my prayer for them.
Our gracious and magnificent Lord, You are El-Shaddai - the God All Sufficient. You are all that we need, the source of all of our hope. I praise Your incredible grace to us!
Father, this morning I lift my brother Kirby to You. He is - once again - serving his fellow countrymen by going into the war zone. Protect him Father. I pray that You would surround him with Your protective embrace and let him know that You are there with him. Oh Lord, this man and his wife was there for my family when the tragic events of 9/11 occured and I was caught on the other side of the country. I am forever grateful for this. They were used by You when I was not available. Bless them, oh mighty Jehovah!
This morning I ask that You preserve and protect him and his family through the coming year. Keep him out of harm's way, Father. Bring him home safe, and help him to know that in spite of the things said by some in our society, his service is deeply appreciated.
Lord, I also plead Your comfort for Linda, Gabriel and Jacob. This will be a difficult time for Linda as she raises their sons on her own for a year. I pray your provision for them. I pray that You would grant her the patience and strength she needs. Comfort her in Kirby's absence and show her Your love. My blessed Father, Gabriel is thrust into being the "young man of the house". Show him how to help his mother through these times. Help him to deal with his own fears while patiently comforting his brother. Jacob is very young, Lord, and his understanding of this situation is undoubtedly limited, but I pray that You would help him in ways that none of us can foresee or understand.
These requests come from the bottom of my heart in the incredible name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, Your Son.
Amen
Our gracious and magnificent Lord, You are El-Shaddai - the God All Sufficient. You are all that we need, the source of all of our hope. I praise Your incredible grace to us!
Father, this morning I lift my brother Kirby to You. He is - once again - serving his fellow countrymen by going into the war zone. Protect him Father. I pray that You would surround him with Your protective embrace and let him know that You are there with him. Oh Lord, this man and his wife was there for my family when the tragic events of 9/11 occured and I was caught on the other side of the country. I am forever grateful for this. They were used by You when I was not available. Bless them, oh mighty Jehovah!
This morning I ask that You preserve and protect him and his family through the coming year. Keep him out of harm's way, Father. Bring him home safe, and help him to know that in spite of the things said by some in our society, his service is deeply appreciated.
Lord, I also plead Your comfort for Linda, Gabriel and Jacob. This will be a difficult time for Linda as she raises their sons on her own for a year. I pray your provision for them. I pray that You would grant her the patience and strength she needs. Comfort her in Kirby's absence and show her Your love. My blessed Father, Gabriel is thrust into being the "young man of the house". Show him how to help his mother through these times. Help him to deal with his own fears while patiently comforting his brother. Jacob is very young, Lord, and his understanding of this situation is undoubtedly limited, but I pray that You would help him in ways that none of us can foresee or understand.
These requests come from the bottom of my heart in the incredible name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, Your Son.
Amen
February 10, 2007
Mentors - Ben Padrow
About halfway through Soul Survivor, I realized that I HAD to look back at my life on those who impacted it significantly. I had no choice - nobody lives in a bubble and everyone that I encounter has some sort of influence on me. It's just the way humans work.
So who would be number 1? That question was answered very quickly in the memory of Dr. Ben Padrow.
I began my college career at the University of Oregon. Like most kids coming out of high school, I had some vague idea of where I wanted to go and what I wanted to be. In this case, the kid thought he wanted to be a lawyer. I guess I spent too many hours watching Perry Mason or something. That illusion evaporated before the end of my freshman year, however, and I then drifted off into various directions - political science (I bombed in an American Government class) journalism (couldn't pass the typing test) and some others that I have since completely forgotten. While attending school, I was working part time at a logging equipment junk yard. When I got laid off (this was the early 80's when we were still enduring the Nixon/Ford/Carter economy), I decided to take a year off school, find some work and then return.
To make a long story short, after my year off I ended up at Portland State University. In my first term, I happened to take a course in Public Speaking. It was there that I met Ben Padrow.
If someone were to look at Ben and I standing in the hall talking, they'd think it was a pretty odd combination indeed. I was a relatively large young man, standing 6'2" and built like a football lineman. Padrow, as I've always liked to describe him, was a "5 foot tall, half blind Jew". 5 foot might be a bit of an exaggeration, but not much - he couldn't have stood over 5'2". He wore glasses whose lenses seemed to be about an inch thick. While unabashedly Jewish, he wasn't orthodox and encouraged me a great deal as I embarked on my journey towards accepting Christ as my Savior.
I didn't realize it when I signed up for the class, but Ben Padrow was an icon around the Portland State Campus. Portland State (originally the Vanport Extension Center) was started up after World War II to help deal with all of the returning soldiers who were attending college on the GI Bill. The school gradually developed into Portland State College, but one event in 1965 propelled this school into national and state prominence, which led to accreditation as a university. That event was the 1965 College Bowl team.
In this day and age of Trivial Pursuit and non-stop glitz on TV, it is difficult to imagine something like the College Bowl. Teams of students from 2 different colleges would face off in, well, trivia contests, the winner advancing to the next round. Padrow took on the PSU team, and the article below shows the results.
http://media.www.dailyvanguard.com/media/storage/paper941/news/2005/03/08/News/They-Returned.Heroes-2614258.shtml?sourcedomain=www.dailyvanguard.com&MIIHost=media.collegepublisher.com
With that feather in his cap, Padrow started down a path of politics. Padrow coached Bob Packwood in his campaign against US Senator Wayne Morse in 1968. Packwood came across as the fresh young fighter while Morse stayed the stodgy old timer. Packwood took the seat and held it until his resignation years later.
Padrow then moved on to a position on the Multnomah County Commission for 4 years. Perhaps his biggest accomplishment in politics, however, was managing Bud Clark's campaign for mayor of Portland in 1982. Clark's victory was one of the biggest surprises in Oregon political history. Here's a brief article about that event.
http://www.wweek.com/html/25-1984.html
As I was researching I also found that Padrow was a central character in a movie about the life of Richard Pimentel. Here's a link for a brief description of "The Music Within"
The Music Within
http://www.melissageorge.co.uk/films/musicwithin.htm
Padrow had many other accomplishments and roles in his life, including Executive Director of the Lake Oswego Community Theater, of all things.
Ben Padrow was in many ways what you would consider the consumate "behind the scenes man". As the descriptions above show, he spent much of his life helping to shape other people's lives. In the 25 years since I graduated from Portland State, I've encountered several people that attended his classes. Every last one of them has stated at least a small amount of admiration for the man.
When I first landed in one of his classes, the man encouraged me. He told me that I was actually a good speaker. He also managed to convey to me just how important the concept of communication actually is. "You cannot not communicate" was one of his famous sayings. I met the woman who would become my wife in one of his classes. He inspired me to declare the study of communications as my major and helped develop a devotion to the art that continues to this day.
Perhaps the strongest contributions he made to my life, however, was to deliver wake up calls. As I said above , I met Linda in one of his classes, and at times it seemed like he was cheer leading our developing relationship. We met, however, in my third term of taking "speaking" classes from him.
As I said, he had told me that I was actually a good speaker. He encouraged me to keep taking speaking classes. The next term, however, Linda took her first speaking class from him. At the end of the term, Padrow was reviewing the class with her and told her "You're one of the best natural speakers I've ever heard. You don't need to take any more speaking classes." Talk about injecting a huge dose of humility directly into my veins!
The other wake up call was delivered as I was completing my final term prior to earning my degree. Suffering from a severe case of "senioritis", I was casting about looking for a direction to aim myself. At this point I sat down in Ben's office for a chat.
"I'm thinking about continuing the study of communications and studying for my Masters." I told him.
Padrow looked up at me through those thick glasses. He shook a yellowed finger at me and said "I think you need a kick in the ass and should get out there and find a job." He was right of course. This is something that you would expect a parent to say to someone, but it carried a lot of weight coming from him.
I did get out there and found a job. The jobs at first were menial, but they gradually improved. Somehow he helped to convey to me that studying communications and life in general had much more to do with experiencing it than it did reading it in books.
Ben Padrow helped to instill in Linda and I a love for the art of communication, and that art has become one of the key foundations of our marriage, second only to our faith in Christ. Since much of my life now - from teaching classes in using business systems to amateur acting - revolves around the concept, I can honestly say that I used much of what I learned in college.
I attended Ben's funeral a few years after I graduated. I was deeply saddened that from this point on, there would not be any more students at Portland State who would have the benefit of his insight and knowledge. As I looked around the room at the incredible crowd of people, however, I realized I was wrong. His legacy will undoubtedly live on at that school for years to come.
So who would be number 1? That question was answered very quickly in the memory of Dr. Ben Padrow.
I began my college career at the University of Oregon. Like most kids coming out of high school, I had some vague idea of where I wanted to go and what I wanted to be. In this case, the kid thought he wanted to be a lawyer. I guess I spent too many hours watching Perry Mason or something. That illusion evaporated before the end of my freshman year, however, and I then drifted off into various directions - political science (I bombed in an American Government class) journalism (couldn't pass the typing test) and some others that I have since completely forgotten. While attending school, I was working part time at a logging equipment junk yard. When I got laid off (this was the early 80's when we were still enduring the Nixon/Ford/Carter economy), I decided to take a year off school, find some work and then return.
To make a long story short, after my year off I ended up at Portland State University. In my first term, I happened to take a course in Public Speaking. It was there that I met Ben Padrow.
If someone were to look at Ben and I standing in the hall talking, they'd think it was a pretty odd combination indeed. I was a relatively large young man, standing 6'2" and built like a football lineman. Padrow, as I've always liked to describe him, was a "5 foot tall, half blind Jew". 5 foot might be a bit of an exaggeration, but not much - he couldn't have stood over 5'2". He wore glasses whose lenses seemed to be about an inch thick. While unabashedly Jewish, he wasn't orthodox and encouraged me a great deal as I embarked on my journey towards accepting Christ as my Savior.
I didn't realize it when I signed up for the class, but Ben Padrow was an icon around the Portland State Campus. Portland State (originally the Vanport Extension Center) was started up after World War II to help deal with all of the returning soldiers who were attending college on the GI Bill. The school gradually developed into Portland State College, but one event in 1965 propelled this school into national and state prominence, which led to accreditation as a university. That event was the 1965 College Bowl team.
In this day and age of Trivial Pursuit and non-stop glitz on TV, it is difficult to imagine something like the College Bowl. Teams of students from 2 different colleges would face off in, well, trivia contests, the winner advancing to the next round. Padrow took on the PSU team, and the article below shows the results.
http://media.www.dailyvanguard.com/media/storage/paper941/news/2005/03/08/News/They-Returned.Heroes-2614258.shtml?sourcedomain=www.dailyvanguard.com&MIIHost=media.collegepublisher.com
With that feather in his cap, Padrow started down a path of politics. Padrow coached Bob Packwood in his campaign against US Senator Wayne Morse in 1968. Packwood came across as the fresh young fighter while Morse stayed the stodgy old timer. Packwood took the seat and held it until his resignation years later.
Padrow then moved on to a position on the Multnomah County Commission for 4 years. Perhaps his biggest accomplishment in politics, however, was managing Bud Clark's campaign for mayor of Portland in 1982. Clark's victory was one of the biggest surprises in Oregon political history. Here's a brief article about that event.
http://www.wweek.com/html/25-1984.html
As I was researching I also found that Padrow was a central character in a movie about the life of Richard Pimentel. Here's a link for a brief description of "The Music Within"
The Music Within
http://www.melissageorge.co.uk/films/musicwithin.htm
Padrow had many other accomplishments and roles in his life, including Executive Director of the Lake Oswego Community Theater, of all things.
Ben Padrow was in many ways what you would consider the consumate "behind the scenes man". As the descriptions above show, he spent much of his life helping to shape other people's lives. In the 25 years since I graduated from Portland State, I've encountered several people that attended his classes. Every last one of them has stated at least a small amount of admiration for the man.
When I first landed in one of his classes, the man encouraged me. He told me that I was actually a good speaker. He also managed to convey to me just how important the concept of communication actually is. "You cannot not communicate" was one of his famous sayings. I met the woman who would become my wife in one of his classes. He inspired me to declare the study of communications as my major and helped develop a devotion to the art that continues to this day.
Perhaps the strongest contributions he made to my life, however, was to deliver wake up calls. As I said above , I met Linda in one of his classes, and at times it seemed like he was cheer leading our developing relationship. We met, however, in my third term of taking "speaking" classes from him.
As I said, he had told me that I was actually a good speaker. He encouraged me to keep taking speaking classes. The next term, however, Linda took her first speaking class from him. At the end of the term, Padrow was reviewing the class with her and told her "You're one of the best natural speakers I've ever heard. You don't need to take any more speaking classes." Talk about injecting a huge dose of humility directly into my veins!
The other wake up call was delivered as I was completing my final term prior to earning my degree. Suffering from a severe case of "senioritis", I was casting about looking for a direction to aim myself. At this point I sat down in Ben's office for a chat.
"I'm thinking about continuing the study of communications and studying for my Masters." I told him.
Padrow looked up at me through those thick glasses. He shook a yellowed finger at me and said "I think you need a kick in the ass and should get out there and find a job." He was right of course. This is something that you would expect a parent to say to someone, but it carried a lot of weight coming from him.
I did get out there and found a job. The jobs at first were menial, but they gradually improved. Somehow he helped to convey to me that studying communications and life in general had much more to do with experiencing it than it did reading it in books.
Ben Padrow helped to instill in Linda and I a love for the art of communication, and that art has become one of the key foundations of our marriage, second only to our faith in Christ. Since much of my life now - from teaching classes in using business systems to amateur acting - revolves around the concept, I can honestly say that I used much of what I learned in college.
I attended Ben's funeral a few years after I graduated. I was deeply saddened that from this point on, there would not be any more students at Portland State who would have the benefit of his insight and knowledge. As I looked around the room at the incredible crowd of people, however, I realized I was wrong. His legacy will undoubtedly live on at that school for years to come.
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