A Very Special Day!

Sunday, November 19, 2006, is WORLD TOILET DAY, so decreed by the World Toilet Organization (no, really). For those of you who do not instinctively recognize the need for this special day, here's a nugget from the WTO website:

The purpose of having this day is to have people in all countries to take action, increase awareness of toilet user’s right to a better toilet environment, and to demand for it from toilet owners. As such, it is also the toilet user’s duty to contribute towards its maintenance, cleanliness and hygiene. The public marks the day to practice toilet etiquette, the restroom community-at-large celebrates with a new declaration for the forthcoming year.

So, let's all get ready to practice that restroom etiquette and celebrate the most wonderful day of the year! It makes me proud to be a member of the restroom community-at-large.

Quick Update

Haven't posted in quite a while. Some of you have noticed and have been bugging me. Glad you missed my posts. I'll write something witty, deep, and challenging later. For now...

We bought a new house (at right). The condo was too small to be a "grandma house." Moving in Saturday.

Evidently my body scheduled a couple of days off without giving me advance notice. Spent a couple of nights in the hospital last week with rapid heart beat (atrial flutter, for you medical junkies). I'm better now.




The plane is for sale. Why? See house (above). It comes complete with a whopping mortgage. Grandbaby trumps hobby.

Good News at Lakewood

One of the joys of traveling is getting to visit other churches. Sunday, we attended the Lakewood Church of Christ. Lakewood is the Denver suburb where my daughter and son-in-law live. They are members of the Littleton Church, which is a wonderful congregation. But, with daughter and granddaughter in the hospital following the latter's birth, we decided to go someplace close.

We were uplifted and encouraged by our experience at Lakewood. Currently, they are doing a 40X40 prayer project. They have purchased the names and addresses of individuals who live in their area. Church members have committed themselves to pray for 40 people they do not know for 40 days straight. Each week, there is a different theme for the prayers that are being said. This week, it is "healing;" Reg Cox, the minister of the Word, delivered a wonderful message on praying for healing. Lakewood members will be praying for the physical, emotional, and spiritual healing of strangers who live in their community. At the end of the 40 days, each member will write a letter of encouragement to the 40 people for whom he or she has been praying. I believe God will provide some amazing (and humbling) answers to these prayers.

The teens at Lakewood set up a wonderful prayer room for members to use during the 40 days. It has various stations with appropriate decor to help people experience the various moods of prayer. They have posted hours through the week for people to come in and use the prayer room. It's great to see teens leading a congregation in spiritual disciplines.

Worshiping with the Lakewood church was a tremendous encouragement to me. My mind is full of ministry ideas and insights from just one short visit. May God bless the Lakewood church!

A-Maizie-ng!

At last. I am officially a grandpa! Maizie Jane George was born at 7:14 a.m., Friday, October 20, 2006. She weighed in at 8 lbs., 11 oz., and was 20 inches long. We are ecstatic. Her Mom and Dad are doing great. And Maizie is gorgeous.

Time for Good News!

There probably won't be any more posts on this blog for a while. We're leaving today to drive to Denver. Twenty-two hours of driving spread out over two days leaves little time to tend to a blog. And when we get to Denver, we'll be tired and then we'll be very busy. So this is my last post until...

...my granddaughter is born! They're planning to induce labor on Tuesday if she doesn't come before then. Believe me, I'll find a way to get to an internet connection and spread the word.

We've had an overload of good news lately: our son Alan got married, we're buying a new house, and the Tigers are going to the World Series. But right now, the spotlight is on Caren and the arrival of her daughter. I can hardly wait!

An Open Letter to My Daughter-in-Law

The day you married my son was one of the most memorable days of my life. I am now a father-in-law (again). I want you to know the guiding principles I will strive to follow:

After Jesus Christ, you are #1 in my son's life. We raised our son. We invested thousands of hours raising him and thousands of dollars educating him. He's been our son for 33 years. He's been your husband for a month. None of this matters. You have first claim on him. He owes his first allegience to you and we respect and honor that fact.

You are part of our family. We value you because you are a wonderful person, not just because you married our son. We would make any sacrifice for you that we would make for our own children. We will rejoice in your accomplishments just as much as we would for the successes of our own kids.

Our son is now a part of your family. The two of you are welcome in our home any time, and any holidays you choose to spend with us will be times of special joy. But we know that you will be spending time with your family too. We will respect your decisions about holidays and visits with both families.

We don't want to raise any more children. Therefore, it is not up to us to decide if or when you should have children. We will live full and blessed lives either way. We will not put any pressure on you (even in the form of subtle hints) about having kids. Of course if you do choose to have children, you know we will love them dearly. But if you choose not to, please know that you will not be loved or valued any less.

You and our son are both adults. If you want our advice, please ask. If you don't, we'll shut up, except in the unlikely event that someone's life or safety is in danger. We haven't lived our lives exactly as our parents envisioned them; you won't always conform to our expectations either. But we believe that you will often exceed our expectations in ways that surprise and delight us.

Finally, if you ever need money... ask your parents (just kidding). We love you!

Thankful for Halloween

Theological misgivings aside, you have to be thankful for Halloween. If not for Halloween, the stores woud put up all their gaudy Christmas decorations the day after Labor Day.

Last year, at the annual Scaraoke costume party I attend, I wore a T-shirt emblazoned with a large letter "E". My wife's shirt bore a picture of a paper clip. I was E-male and she was an attachment (and if you know her, you can imagine how excited she was about playing that role).

But I need an idea for this year. What creative costume ideas do you have? What was your favorite or most creative costume?

The Cory Lidle Tragedy

Whenever there's a high-profile airplane crash, dozens of concerned friends and family members call to tell me that small planes are proven death traps. The aviation community grieves the loss of Cory Lidle, as does his family and baseball fans everywhere. But here's one pilot's view.

First, let's back off the hysteria. No mode of transportation is completely safe. My guess is that at least a dozen cars a month run into buildings somewhere in America; people panic and hit the gas instead of the brake, they're going too fast for the conditions, they're distracted, etc. The same kinds of things can happen to pilots too.

Lidle was a relatively inexperienced pilot. New automobile drivers are involved in a disproportionate number of accidents; so are new pilots. He was flying a fine but rather sophisticated plane, the Cirrus SR22. There's a saying among pilots: "A fool and his money are soon flying more airplane than he can handle." It's too soon to know if that applies to Lidle, but it was a factor in the John F. Kennedy Jr. crash a few years back.

Lidle was engaged in low-altitude maneuvering flight, which is the most dangerous phase of flight. It demands special attention to detail. It sounds like he was doing some sightseeing, which by definition is distracting. When you're flying low and slow and get distracted, things can go south pretty quickly. From the early reports, Lidle was banking when the accident happened. At high bank angles, the airspeed at which the wings lose lift increases. If you're not paying attention, you can easily fall below critical airspeed. When that happens in a steep bank, a spin is likely. The SR22 has great spin-recovery characteristics, but it often takes 1,000 feet of altitude (and no tall buildings in the way) to pull out of one. Is that what happened to Lidle? It's way too early to tell, but that's where my best guess is for now.

Before his death, Lidle assured his family and friends that flying was perfectly safe. Obviously, he was as wrong. But so would be anyone who says that driving a car is perfectly safe. Like drivers however, there is much that pilots can do maximize their safety factor, like knowing their personal limitations and staying within them, allowing for a generous margin of error in all phases of flight, avoiding high-workload or distracting situations, etc.

Cory Lidle's death: a tragic accident. Given the right conditions, it could happen to any pilot. Just like a tragic car accident could happen to any driver. Will it make me a more careful pilot? Absolutely. Will it keep me from flying? Absolutely not.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

The celebrated and overpaid New York Yankees are no more. The Detroit Tigers will face Oakland for the American League championship. Remember these names: Bonderman, Verlander, Granderson, Zumaya... shall I go on? And when the Tigers come to your town, whether it be Oakland, San Diego, St. Louis, Los Angeles or (especially) New York, you will respect these guys.

More Wedding Vowels

Meanderings still gets a few hits from people who Google "wedding vowel renewal." But the traffic's dropped off a lot since the initial surge. Since this is just about this blog's only claim to recognition in the broader world, we can't let this decline continue. Surely everyone knows that Google orders results according to the frequency with which they are clicked. So, here's what I need from you, my loyal readers (both of you). Click this link, which will put the proper search terms into Google, then when the results appear, scroll down to Meanderings and click on it. As of this writing, it's the first result on the second page. If enough of you do this, we'll get Meanderings back onto the first page of results, and my site counter will go crazy with meaningless hits.

Amish-olatry?

OK, I'm probably going to get blasted for this, but here goes anyway. Our hearts are broken by the recent tragedy in Amish country. And yes, we admire the Amish for their gentle demonstration of forgiveness. But the way some of my Gen-X blogmates tell it, the Amish pretty much have a direct line to God. These last few days, I've read that because the Amish live in isolated communities untainted by the modern world, they have a much deeper insight into the ways of God than the rest of the Christian fellowship. Oh really? Sure, there are some aspects of Amish life that resonate with the postmodern mind: things like withdrawal from the superficiality of modern society, distrust of technology, disenchantment with politics, commitment to pacifism, strong sense of community and the courage to stand alone on one's traditions, however unpopular they might be.

But let's get real. If just a few days ago someone had suggested that all Christians adopt the male-dominant gender roles of the Amish, you know the ridicule that would have come from those same postmoderns. "Well, that's just what you'd expect," they would have cried, "from a group that hides in insular communities, is mired in the horse-and-buggy era, and is composed entirely of people with eighth-grade educations." I don't think too many of them ever would have advocated leadership-roles-for-males-only based on the idea that the Amish hear God more clearly than the rest of us.

Here's the truth: like many Christian groups, the Amish have much to teach us. But like all Christian groups (including our own), they have their blind spots. Here's one: my friend Bill Reist is descended from Hans Reist, who had a famous falling out with Jacob Amman in 1693. The Mennonites trace their history to Reist's faction, the Amish to Amman. The Reist-Amman rift was so bitter that it nearly came to physical blows a few times (and this between two "peace" groups). It remains historically one of the most acromonious and uncharitable divisions ever between Christian camps. Amman was upset with Reist because he wasn't vigorous enough in excommunicating folk over petty doctrinal differences. As a result, even today I think most of us would find Amman's spiritual heirs to be just a tad too rigid, inflexible, and legalistic.

So, let's pray for the Amish in their time of sorrow. And let's be edified by their spirit of peace and forbearance. But let's not prop up our favorite doctrines and biases by idolizing a group that has no more claim to a monopoly on God than anyone else.

And the Point Would Be?

Yesterday, a man in Japan recited the value of the mathematical constant pi to 100,000 decimal places--from memory. Took him sixteen hours, including bathroom breaks. Read all about it here. All righty, then.

Not Funny

When I heard the news yesterday about the horrific killings at an Amish school in Pennsylvania, a stupid little voice--I call it my "inner stand-up comedian"--intruded into my thoughts. "Hey, did you hear the one about the Amish drive-by shooting?" it asked, unaware of how embarassingly inappropriate that thought was. Of course, I'm not going to tell you the joke. It's not funny any more. But it was funny at one time. Absurdity is the foundation for humor. And up until yesterday, the mere juxtaposition of the word "Amish" with the phrase "drive-by shooting" was absurd. No group has worked harder than the Amish to insulate themselves from the stresses of the modern world that cause unstable people to snap and go berserk with guns. No group has developed a more tightly-knit, supportive, and protective social network. Evidently no amount of isolation, insulation, or protection can guarantee absolute safety, even for the Amish. Unfortunately for them, they've been forced to join "the modern world," in the ugliest way possible. Let us who are believers join them in their world of simple trust in God as we pray for their healing.

Moving Mother

I haven't been tending to the blog much lately; other priorities have intruded. One of the big ones for me was moving my mother into an assisted-living facility for Alzheimer's patients. My friend Jeff and I drove to Nashville, Arkansas, last Sunday. From there, Jeff followed me to Houston in a U-Haul truck loaded with Mom's bedroom furniture. We unloaded Tuesday morning, then took off for home, arriving late Wednesday night. We drove over three thousand miles in eighty hours (and somewhere in those 80 hours, we ate slept, moved furniture, and visited with my sister and my Mom)!

Mom can't live on her own any more. The assisted-living place is where she needs to be. But moving her there means that she has been uprooted from a community where she has lived for 40 years--half her life. She's away from her church, her neighbors, her friends, and a wonderfully familiar little town. Now, she lives in a nice room in a pleasant facility among total strangers in a huge and confusing metropolitan area. That can't be helpful for an Alzheimer's patient who's struggling to maintain some semblence of a grip on reality. My head tells me that for her safety's sake, we made the right choice. But my heart hurts for what we've done to her. No matter how we try to explain the reasons--she has to be near one of her children, and that meant either Houston or Detroit--she just wants to "go home."

When your kids are little, sometimes you have to subject them to pain for their own good. I was never at peace with the look of betrayal on Alan and Caren's faces when they were getting shots at the doctor's office. There was no way to explain to them why I was allowing them to be hurt. And now we've inflicted a great hurt on Mom, and there's no way to explain it to her so that she can understand. My prayer is that somewhere amid all the blocked and miswired synapses, there's still the understanding that we love her, even when we make painful choices.

God! Politics! Christians! Money!

OK, here's the deal. The longest thread on my blog runs to a total of nine comments, and I think two of them were mine. That's just unacceptable. However, I've noticed that when Greg Kendall-Ball and Mike Cope post anything about God and politics or about Christians and wealth, the resulting threads run to 100+ comments. Although reading those long threads wears me out--and honestly if the original thoughts contained therein were converted to hair, you couldn't make a wig for a grape--the point here is about amassing sheer numbers of comments to my blog. So, please reread the headline of this post, and let's get ready to rumble!

A slightly more serious afterthought: could it be that these topics generate so much heated discussion because they are sore points about which we feel threatened by the radical claims of the gospel? Just asking.

Farewell KB.net

Greg Kendall-Ball, caretaker of kendallball.net has decided to hang up his spurs and exit the blogosphere. His blog was one of the most widely visited sites among members of the churches of Christ (second only to Mike Cope's blog according to my own unscientific survey). Greg attracted a posse of Gen-X hot-shots, many of them grad students in theology, some of them heretics. Greg is a staunch pacifist in the heart of the reddest of all Red States. He was never afraid to stir the pot or to address issues that no one else wanted to touch. What was refreshing about KB.net was that it was a place where everything was open to question. Sacred cows were gored regularly and with glee. I found much to disagree with, but also found a lot that challenged the ruts in which my thinking had become mired. I came to appreciate the regular posters there as a group who were passionate about being authentic in their faith. Although Greg is quite serious about his faith and his politics, he never took himself too seriously. KB.net was always a fun place to hang out. His unique forum will be missed.

On Loving Enemies

There was an op-ed piece in today's USA Today entitled "A Christian vew of war," written by Oliver "Buzz" Thomas. An excerpt:

In ancient times, particular gods were associated with particular nations. "Tribal deities," we call them. Today we know better. God is not the mascot of Republicans, Democrats, or for that matter, Americans. God transcends all national and political affiliations. His precinct is the universe.

Thomas begins the piece by referring to the "Pray for our troops" bumper stickers. I understand the sentiment behind that sticker, and it's cousin, "We support our troops." It dates back to the time of the Vietnam conflict, when those who opposed the war were hostile and often abusive toward those who served in the military. Today's anti-war activists have generally been very careful to state that they support our troops, even while they disagree with the decisions that sent them into harm's way. It may be a difficult distinction, but it's one I'm glad they are making.

I've certainly seen and heard of less charitable stickers. A contributor to Mike Cope's blog reported seeing a bumper sticker on a car that read, "Osama: God may forgive you. We will not," next to a "Jesus lives" sticker. I mentioned these in my sermon yesterday and afterward, a lady told me of a t-shirt she had seen: "Osama: it's up to God to forgive you. Our job is to arrange the meeting." Next to those, I certainly appreciate the much more gracious tone of "we support our troops" and "pray for our troops."

However, Buzz Thomas says Jesus would have gone farther: "If he had money for a car and didn't give it all away to the hookers and the homeless before he got to the used-car lot, I'm pretty sure that his bumper sticker would say 'pray for our enemies.'" Sobering thought. Even as we oppose evil in whatever ways we feel we must, Jesus reminds us to temper our fear and hostility by remembering to lift our enemies up in prayer, to love them as completely as our heavenly Father does. God has a stake in curbing the violence of evil people; but God's heart is filled with love--often, wounded love--for even the most wayward of his children. God, give me the heart to love my enemies as You do.

Flying on 9/11

I have successfully resisted the urge to join every other blogger on the planet and talk about where I was and what I was doing on 9/11/01. Let me talk instead about what happened to me on 9/11/06.

I was due in Ashland, Ohio, at 10 a.m. for a Pastors of Excellence retreat. The night before, I checked the weather, and it looked like I would not be able to fly myself there (I am not instrument rated, and the forecast was for low ceilings and visibility). I was bummed, because it's a three-hour car trip, but only 45 minutes across Lake Erie in the plane. However, when the alarm went off at 5:30, I rechecked the weather and discovered that conditions were much better than forecast. So, after going back to bed for an hour, I flew.

Everything was fine until I was about halfway across the lake. I noticed that the oil pressure was well below the normal operating range; in fact, it was just above the red line. I landed at Sandusky, Ohio, the first airport on the far side of the lake. My stomach was tied in knots. The only two possibilities I could think of were "bad oil pump" and "catastrophic engine damage." One is expensive; the other is disastrous. After three tense hours with a mechanic named Mark, the problem was diagnosed as "bad oil pressure gauge." Whew!

I took off from Sandusky around 12:30 for the 20-minute flight down to Ashland. Nearing my destination, I announced my intentions on the advisory frequency (Ashland does not have a control tower). Immediately, a voice crackled in my headset: "Aircraft calling Ashland, be advised the Ashland airport is closed until further notice." Before long, I was over the airport and was able to see why. There was a disabled aircraft blocking their only runway. I had to land at Mansfield and call for a ride from there back to Ashland.

I'm not superstitious at all, but I think that's the last time I fly on 9/11.

Spiritual Reinforcements Needed

If you have the time, please read this post in its entirety and join me in prayer for a friend and brother, Marc Neal. I am a participant in Pastors of Excellence, a wonderful ministry put on by Ashland Theological Seminary. Eighty of us come together for six three-day retreats over the course of two years for spiritual renewal and personal growth. Marc is the mentor for the group of six ministers of which I am a part. He is pastor of the Jerusalem Missionary Baptist Church in Akron, OH.

Marc didn't make it to our most recent retreat, Monday through Wednesday of this week. Last Friday, a 33-year-old member of his church collapsed at the dinner table and died. He had no previous medical history and no history of drug or alcohol abuse. The funeral was Monday, and you can imagine how difficult it must have been for Marc to bring comfort to the family.

The Saturday before the funeral, Marc got a call from Kelvin, a 30-year-old member of his church. Kelvin is an employee at Marc's church--he handles the web site and other technical matters--but Marc counts him a close friend and confidant. Kelvin told Marc that he had tripped while carrying his month-old daughter and fallen on her, injuring her badly enough that she had to be hospitalized.

As Marc was driving to the cemetary after the funeral on Monday, Kelvin called him on his cell phone, distraught. Kelvin confessed that he had not fallen on his daughter; he had lost his temper with her and had thrown her, not once but twice. Kelvin was covered with guilt and remorse and told Marc that he was going to go away for a while. He called several of his relatives and told him the same thing. Marc left the cemetary and went in search of Kelvin. Before he found him, Kelvin took his life by jumping off a bridge. Marc was given the task of informing the family. In the aftermath, protective services is threatening to take the baby from its mother, a woman who is reeling from the news that her baby was abused and her husband his killed himself.

If you've stayed with me this far, I'm asking you to join with me in praying for Marc, these two families, and the Jerusalem Baptist church. If ever there was a time to call in all available spiritual reinforcements, this is it!

Minor E-noyances

1. Sweet, sappy, way-too-long, meant-to-be-inspirational forwarded emails that end with "if you don't forward this to 20 people, including the one who sent it to you, that proves you don't care."


2. Calling a company, getting their automated phone system, which asks you to enter your sixteen digit account number followed by the pound sign, then your five-digit zip code, then the last four digits of your Social Security number, then when a human gets on the line, having him or her ask for all the same information.


3. Automated phone systems that try too hard to sound human, especially ones that say, "You may say your response at any time; I don't mind being interrupted." It's a machine, for pity's sake! I prefer machines to sound like machines--monotone and metallic.


4. People who forward jokes to me on email (most of which I've heard before and many of which I don't take time to read), then ask me three weeks later, "did you get that email I sent you?"


5. When someone sends me a serious email, and I decide to wait to respond until I can collect my thoughts, then I forget all about it until the person asks, "did you get that email I sent you?" How embarrassing!