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.

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.

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.

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

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.

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!

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.