questions, frustrations and simple revelations

Coming back . . . again

2006-10-03T15:19:00.000-04:00

Vacation, new job, family stuff, other writing projects, yada, yada, yada . . . no more lines wasted on the nearly 8 week hole between posts.

A rare day off for both Julie and me has me a bit paralyzed by the abundant opportunities that the day has provided. Of course, the more time I stay paralyzed the less of a day there is left to be off. Oh well. I have been thinking a lot recently about rhythm, the way that space interrupts action, noise pierces silence. Rhythm is what soothes us, drives us, puts us in a groove. I love it when I am in the rhythm.

Conversely, I have found nothing more frustrating, more irritating, than being out of the rhythm. You white folks know what I am talking about. In my life, it is remarkable what seemingly insignificant things can throw off my rhythm: a sick child, a nasty comment, caffeine, a negative thought, an ill-advised nap, a poor choice on how to spend some free time.

I wonder if these little blips are so disruptive because I am not very intentional on developing a rhythm in my life. It seems true that rhythm becomes easier and easier to keep the longer you are in it. It slowly becomes part of your internal being, linking up with the cadence of your step, your breathing, your heartbeat. How I long for those times, so smooth and fluid that every action takes a little less effort. The rhythm compels you to move.

Starting a rhythm, however, is a whole other story. Some people need to make a choice to make some noise, to act. Others need to choose to silence the noise, to create space. I think holiness has a lot to do with when we choose to make noise and a when we chose to make space. And "church" has a lot to do with making these choices as an ensemble.

Whatever the case, it seems to me that starting the rhythm begins with listening, then responding. It is a conversation with the Holy Spirit that uses our whole body, mind and soul. It involves listening to my own noise and the rhythm that is already out there. It requires humility and submission, patience and grace. It defies independence, insisting on interdependence instead. It says, "You can march to the beat of a different drummer, but it's gonna be a real lonely parade."

I wonder if my rhythm problems are really listening problems, submission problems. Lord knows I have no problem making noise . . .

a quick thought on art and faith

2006-08-09T00:29:00.000-04:00

Why we need art in the Church:

For all of art's value, its greatest value in community is that it can become a memory tool that expresses and codifies what we believe in a way that words & reason could never capture. Our faith experience must exceed words alone; it must be nuanced with color and shadow, punctuated with movement and rhythm, guided by line and melody.

It Runs Deep

2006-08-08T22:48:00.000-04:00

I mowed the lawn this Saturday. In my household this is remarkable, because I hate yard work of any kind. This is a relatively new discovery for me because up until last summer, I have never really had a yard to work. Growing up, I was lucky enough to have a brother that actually liked mowing. And in the 9 years that followed my high school graduation I have never lived in a place that required me to maintain the property.

So when we bought our own house last year, we didn't even have a lawn mower. Luckily, the previous owner had two and threw one in with the house. We moved in February, so when spring rolled around I realized a couple of things. First, I didn't really have a lawn. What I had was vast a assortment of weeds with a couple patches of grass mixed in. Secondly, our idyllic dreams of lovingly tending the land and creating beautiful gardens and lush landscapes for family and neighbor alike to enjoy were crushed when I realized: a)it was hard, time consuming work that hurt my back and made me sweat, b)it was going to be very expensive to turn our weedfest into even a modest lawn, and c)our throw-in mower was a rusty old Snapper held together by duct tape and wire, with a broken powerdrive and a quirky motor that would die in any grass slightly longer than the fairways at your local golf course.

From then on yard work became a chore, and chores are mostly for avoiding. But this particular Saturday I worked up the gumption to go out and sweet talk the Snapper into a walk through the back yard. As I walked back and forth from my driveway to our neighbors, stopping every ten feet or so to give the motor a chance to catch its breath, I thought to myself, "If I had one of those really cool mowers, I would enjoy yard work so much more. Heck, I'd probably get that garden put in the front yard and lay that sod we have been talking about putting down."

It was subtle, but before I had put the Snapper back in the garage I realized what was going on. One of the signature idolatries of our culture had crept into my subconscious and surfaced in my self talk. The materialism that says if I had only this one thing I would be happy--or at least happier. If I had this tool I would really become a fixer-upper. If I had this toy I would stick with this hobby. If I buy this exercise bike or gym membership, I will finally have what I need to get in shape. If I had this SUV or minivan or time-share we would take vacations in which we could actually relax . . .

My friends know that I am first in line to talk about how Christians should live simply and reduce consumption and refuse to chase the "American Dream." Yet, here I am convincing myself that a new lawn mower will make me really happy about doing my chores.

Two weeks prior to this I found myself bristling when my neighbor (an amazingly thoughtful Christian guy) and I were talking about the imminent death of my Snapper. He suggested, "Don't buy a new one, just use mine. It's silly for both of us to own perfectly good lawn mowers." The pride in me just welled up as I thought "I am good enough to own my own lawn mower, I shouldn't need to borrow yours."

All of this has reminded me of how deep the way of the World runs in me and how prevalent it is in the way I think and feel. It made me repent and recognize my dependence on the Spirit. When I am not intent on Him, my fallen-ness shows up, slowly and subtly like the rising tide, until I look up and realize that instead of the Kingdom Way I am neck deep in idolatry and pride. And I never even saw it coming because I overestimated my own ability to discern the way of the World in my own life.

This Kingdom way, I am discovering, is more and more about slowly following the direction of the Holy Spirit, listening hard and trusting His guidance, and less and less about what I think I know and what claims of "truth" I can make. It is a humbling walk, like pushing a rusted out, duct-taped lawn mower back and forth from driveway to driveway . . . Maybe I can get a few more cuts out of the Snapper before I start borrowing my neighbors.

Tagged

2006-08-08T00:41:00.000-04:00

A buddy of mine has "tagged" me (jerk) to make a book list answering the following questions. So, here it is . . . Maybe I will tag some folks, too. . . Mwah, ha, ha, ha!

1. One book that changed your life:
Brennan Manning's The Ragamuffin Gospel

2. One book you've read more than once:
C.S. Lewis' The Great Divorce

3. One book you'd want on a deserted island:
Dosteyvksy's The Brothers Karamozov

4. One book that made you laugh:
G.K. Chesterton's Orthodoxy

5. One book that made you cry (or feel really sad):
Jonothan Kozol's Amazing Grace

6. One book that you wish had been written:
Theodore Geisel's The Gospel According to Dr. Seuss

7. One book that you wish had never been written:
The Prayer of Jabez

8. One book you're currently reading:
Peter Scazzero's Emotionally Healthy Spirituality

9. One book you've been meaning to read:
Frost & Hirsch's The Shaping of Things to Come

And now, people whom I am about to tag (by the way, I chose these people because they are some of the most thoughtful and diverse people I know, people who love books, and people who I would pick up a book on their recommendation alone):

Jenn Swift

Michael Harrington

Shane Tucker

Brandy Campbell

Dave Ward

a working definition

2006-08-03T04:11:00.000-04:00

Alright, here is a big ole BP fastball for everyone to tee off on:

I am constantly working on what I call my LCD ecclesiology (not LSD ecclesiology--that is where the pastor is a dancing panda), paring down my expression of church to the essentials. So how would you define the church in a way that it is complete, but if you took anything away it would cease to be the church? Or maybe this is a better way to ask the same thing: what must be present for your community to look like the Body of Jesus?

Here is my working definition:

The Church is:
A missional community (1) guided by faith in the Lordship of Jesus Christ, (2) inspired by hope for his coming Kingdom on this earth, and (3) driven by love for God, all people, and creation.

The Signature of Jesus

In addition, there are certain traits that, when practiced by the Church, act as an authentication of Jesus' mysterious presence through the Holy Spirit in that community. In light of Jesus' life and ministry, his teaching and the example he set, I believe that the Signature of Jesus on our community must include:

* Radical Hospitality
* Humble Service
* Thoughtful Disciple-Making
* A Subversive Prophetic Presence
* The Regular Practice of Sabbath

Can the whole of the church start with this basic definition and these five traits/values/characteristics? Can everything else that the church is be extrapolated from these signatures of Jesus? For instance, Sabbath implies the practice of prayer, reflection, rest, meditation, etc. These things are all wrapped up in what it means to practice Sabbath. And the entire disciple-making process here is implied including outreach, evangelism, discipleship, assimilation, leadership development, etc. All of this is what it means to make disciples. Other practices, like worship, find themselves in multiple areas because I hold a broad Rom 12:1-2 view of worship. (Essentially, everything we do that is consecrated to God is worship.)

So . . . what is missing? What would you add? What would you take away?

**Note, I understand we are talking about what we are called to be, not what we always are. Firstly we assume that because the church is made up of broken and imperfect people, we are a church that is perpetually in a state of both growth and disrepair. Also, I am not asking "what we believe." There are others schools of theology for that question. I want to know what makes the church "the church."

The Summer of my Discontent

2006-07-31T20:51:00.000-04:00

The ghost of Summer's Past has been creeping about the Price house these days. It was only a matter of time since killing off my former self (See my Eulogy from a couple weeks ago) before that restless spirit began to haunt me again. It is an awful feeling, restlessness. I don't feel comfortable in my own skin. I am anxious and irritable and distracted. I am daydreaming in that escapist kind of way that spends significant time thinking about things that just will not happen.

The thing that makes it difficult is that my dreams are "good." That is, I envision me doing great things--traveling to the two-thirds world, starting new ministries, pursuing new financial endeavors. But I know what is going on. I am self-medicating. I feasting on these good feelings about things I say I want to do, knowing full well that those things are not what God has called me to for this time and place. It is entertainment, and it is distracting me from the work at hand: actually becoming the person capable of doing good (forget great) things. Ah, the road to hell is truly paved with good intentions.

So how do we exorcise this spirit? Well, naming it is a start . . . but I think that I need to replace this escapism with something realistic, something useful and presently available to fill up my head space and give me a nearer vision of what I want to become.

Last week I started reading Peter Scazzero's new book, Emotionally Healthy Spirituality and got a couple chapters in before I realized I couldn't go any further. There was something in the first chapter that demanded my complete attention. Scazzero was talking about the fruit of the Spirit, and he used the list as it was found in Eugene Peterson's The Message. Scazzero asked a simple question: "Is this the way we are doing life?"

The conviction that has followed my answer has stopped me in my spiritual tracks. No. No, I am not doing life this way. But I want to. So this list has become my new dream, one that I hope becomes burned into my consciousness and infiltrates everything I do.

Can my new life look like this? . . .

affection for others

exuberance about life

serenity

a willingness to stick with things

a sense of compassion in the heart

a conviction that a basic holiness permeates things and people

involved in local commitments

not needing to force our way through life

able to marshal and direct our energies wisely

This is the kind of list that demands a lot more attention. Perhaps that is the direction my next few writings should take . . .

baby food

2006-07-18T15:01:00.001-04:00

Liam is a just about 7 months old, so we are elbow deep in baby food these days. For those of you without kids, here is how things roll. Basically there are two things you are looking to accomplish by force feeding your infant colored goo. First, you space out new foods a couple days at a time, so you can look for food allergies. That way, if there is a reaction, you know which food caused it. Kind of Russian roulette for babies. The other thing you are doing is trying to convince your child that these foods, like pureed peas and carrots for instance, are tasty.

This, of course, is a lie. If you don't believe me, sit down and eat a jar of it yourself. Baby "experts" say a child may need to be exposed to a new food up to 13 times before they develop a taste for it. This is an exercise in frustration, 'cause ya can't really make someone eat baby food. You can stick it in there, but there is no way to keep it in there if they don't want it in there. So parents take solace in knowing that whether or not their child is getting any nourishment, at least they can check one box on the allergy/exposure requirements.

But I digress. What feeding my son got me thinking about was our senses. Here is a little person who, four months ago, only knew one taste--just one. Then that went to two tastes, breast milk & formula. Then a couple months ago we added cereal, first rice, then oatmeal. Then one more taste at a time ad infinitum. Forget the whole texture component for a second; what an amazing paradigm shift! To go from believing there was only one taste, to two, to four, to an infinite number of tastes. And to have such a limited sample to compare it to at first. I can imagine Liam in his high chair thinking, "well, this is different . . . it tastes like . . . nothing I have ever had before." When is the last time that you could say that? That you tasted something there was no reference point for (not even chicken!)

I wonder how much of my spiritual diet is baby food? What haven't I been exposed to that would add depth and texture and color and flavor to my life. Does my exposure to the feast that is the Kingdom of God begin with oatmeal and end with strained peas? I think of all of the expressions of the Kingdom from Creation itself, other cultures, other traditions, and individual people I encounter that I may have tried once and spit back out. I wonder if the only reason I didn't develop a taste for some of those things is that I lacked the discipline to try them 13 times? It took a while for me to swallow my own tradition, and I am just now starting to develop a craving for it.

It puts a whole new perspective on Jesus' command to "Eat my flesh and drink my blood." It's like his blood must be a fine Bordeaux and I am content drinking apple juice. The Kingdom of Jesus is so much more rich and complex and full of flavor than the watered down life I am settling for.

Liam was SO excited when he tried his banana's and mixed berries today. He was grabbing for the spoon and kicking his feet. So much joy over this new discovery! And all I could think was, "just wait till you try your first filet mignon, bud." I bet Jesus thinks the same thing about me.

Worship

2006-07-09T23:18:00.000-04:00

I had chance to visit my friends at Greenhouse this Sunday and Josh Buck talked about worship. I have spent a lot of time thinking through my theology of worship and what place a corporate gathering has in the big picture. Josh grooved with a lot of what I have been working through, though he took it in a different direction I have been thinking.

Anyway, I have long said that the discussion on worship should start on what happens on Monday through Saturday. Sunday, I think I am coming to believe, has little to do with worship and everything to do with Sabbath. If worship is our act of love to God through our words, deeds, and lives every moment, then what happens on Sunday is about God's act of love to us through His Word, His Body, and His Spirit. Practicing Sabbath is how we are able to receive this love. Slow down, quiet our hearts and minds, listen, and re-orient ourselves to the Kingdom Way. At best, I think, our "worship" on Sunday is symbolic--a drama or artist's interpretation of what we prove we believe during the week. In that sense it is more for us than for God. It encourages the Body, it codifies our beliefs, it strengthens and convicts, it bears witness to the onlooker . . . Whatever it does, it should be obvious that it is more for our benefit than God's.

So I am taking all of this into Josh's sermon and one of his illustrations about our need for real worship was made with greeting cards. He read several cheese romantic cards and then one homemade card with a message from the heart and asked the women which one they would want to get from their men. Of course everyone wanted the homemade one. He said we should try to worship with that same creative, from the heart, "I made this myself" kind of love. I agreed, but when I thought about what would make my wife feel loved, I thought she would say, "the card is great but what I really want is help with the dishes, laundry, bathing the kids, a footrub, time spent paying attention to me . . ." And with Matt 25 and many of Jesus & Paul's words echoing in my head, I kept thinking Jesus would say the same thing when he listens to our songs: "thanks for the card, but what I really want is a footrub and help cleaning this place up" How do you give God a footrub? "Whatever you do to the least of these . . . "

Josh asked us to write God a card (I was supposed to put in a box, but I kept it so I could copy it down--sorry Josh), so this is what I wrote:

God,

I would hope that these words are simply symbols of my true worship to you--my actions, my time, my work, and my life. You don't need my words--I know that. But maybe I do. Maybe I need to hear myself say what I hope I believe--that I love you more than anything. Maybe these words I speak are one of your many gifts to me. Maybe it is you that is speaking through me and to me in the same moment.

Thank you for these moments of Sabbath, when I hear myself, when I hear from you, when I re-up my pledge . . . because that is really all this is. This moment alone means nothing if don't change what I do with my next hundred moments. So I pray that I have the courage to do it and the will to do it again and again. My hope remains that I will show you the love I have pledged for the rest of this day . . . and the next and the next and the next . . .

The Death and (hopeful) Resurrection of Ben Price

2006-06-22T23:00:00.001-04:00

I am an optimist. So when change happens, I am inclined to look for the best. I recently celebrated my 29th birthday with my two kids and wife, in a house that I own, and I counted by blessings. What I haven't done is taken time to mourn all that I have lost as these changes have transpired.

They say the first stage of loss is denial, and I think that those with an optimistic bent are the masters. This whole time while I have trying to embrace this new life of adulthood, parenthood, homeownership--whatever the life change--I haven't let go of all the things that can no longer be part of this new life. Or more precisely, I haven't let go of the expectations I have held in my former life.

So I am trying to live this new life and carry around the remains of my old life, insisting that I should be able to have my cake and eat it too. But instead of embracing the new with joy and passion, I have, on too many occasions, found myself conflicted, frustrated and angry. After wrestling with these emotions for more than a year, this is my simple observation: I cannot embrace this new life fully without mourning the loss of my old life fully. And I have not finished mourning because I have failed to declare the old life dead. So the following is the eulogy of Ben Price as he once was.

Change is Slow

In sports, they talk about teams that can "turn it on" whenever they want. So a team can come out flat and get behind, only to flip a switch and surge past their opponent. Of course, inevitably, teams that begin to believe this myth about themselves, in the moment of truth, cannot, in fact, "turn it on" (as evidenced by my beloved 2006 Pistons). This is the epitome of denial. "I haven't lost a step, I'm just saving it for when I need it." "I am not out of shape, I have learned to work smarter, not harder." "I only need to be one step faster than the other guy."

My old life was lived in a series of sprints. I turned it on when I needed to, and laid back the rest of the time. Every project, every ministry, every relationship was an all or nothing, balls to the wall dash. And, to be honest, I had the skills to back it up. But this new life, it is hard and constant and all the little things bleed together into one, long, uphill marathon. If I live this new life like my old one, I am gonna burn out in the first 500 yards.

So I am killing off my expectation of instantaneous results and acknowledge that change is slow; and any meaningful change is going to be hard and take a serious commitment to slowly walk in a new direction for a long time.

Flexibility is Less & Responsibility is More

A long time ago I was on a family vacation to the Locks in the UP of Michigan. One of the tour people was explaining how these huge tankers had to plan their next move miles out because it took so long to turn or slow down or speed up these ships because of the enormous weight they carried.

My old life was like a WaveRunner. I could change direction on a dime, speed up, slow down, whatever, and do it all with little planning at all. I could do it because I their wasn't much weight to my vessel. Just me and my hopes and dreams. Then I got married and turned in my WaveRunner for a sailboat. Another person's life and hopes and dreams--a little more weight. But man, we could still move. We went where the wind carried us and it was smooth sailing as long as we were communicating with each other. Now I have two kids, more lives and hopes and dreams, neighbors, financial responsibilities, a community I am responsible to, even a dog. So, while I may not be a tanker yet, this new life is a pretty big boat.

This all sounds silly, but there is a point: Every decision I make in my new life carries a lot of weight. I don't have the luxury of changing directions at the last minute--too many people have boarded this boat with the expectation that I am going to deliver. So I am killing this old expectation that I can chase every fancy and pursue every option. The sky is no longer the limit--the limits are real and I need to acknowledge them.

It's Not About Me

It is tempting to say that I have always known this. And on a theoretical level it is true. We know that the universe doesn't revolve around us, but it doesn't stop us from living like it. I don't mean we are self-centered or unaware of the people or problems around us. It is just that in my old life, I set the agenda. I plotted the course and as people's lives intersected mine, I interacted and tried to help and paid attention. I listened and learned and changed, but all the while, I felt like it was my life I was leading; people had their influence, but my life was really still about me.

Then I had kids.

I never really appreciated Paul when he said, "the life I live is not my own . . ." I don't know that I am yet really living for Jesus, but I know this, I am no longer living for myself. It is like I have become a passenger on someone else's boat. (Should it frighten me that it might be piloted by a two year old and a six month old?) Well, I am not just a passenger, I am a sailor. I still have work to do, I still have responsibilities and decisions to make. But it isn't about me. I might even be the captain, but this isn't my boat anymore. (Oh, that I could say that my love for Jesus was as real as my love for these little ones. Maybe that is what they are here to teach me.)

No, the old life is dead. I have killed what was left of it. Now I can properly mourn what I have lost. I know some of you will think this is elementary and no big deal. "Get over it and grow up like the rest of us." And yes, I know I am stating the obvious. But that is the thing, the obvious was there all along, and I just kept pretending it wasn't there. So I have named my fear. I am Peter Pan. With a family that needs me to grow up. I will certainly miss Neverland.

I've been "released"

2006-06-07T21:29:00.000-04:00

So, my pastor called and I was "released" from our church today to pursue another faith community if I so chose. It was an interesting conversation. You know how pastors can sometimes use "pastor speak" to say all the right things while they are really saying something else altogether? So while saying, "we want you to do whatever it is that you need to do for your family" what is really being said is "we don't want you to be part of our community any more." Or more precisely, we don't want you in the "inner circle" anymore. Yet it is said in a way that allows for complete deniability because it is couched in pastor speak.

I can't say that I necessarily blame him, but it was definitely a first for me. I've never been "fired" as a volunteer before. The worst part of me adds it up like this: You aren't leading anything, you aren't tithing regularly, and you aren't even helping in the nursery anymore, so you aren't of use to us anymore. Since you aren't in our "target audience" we would prefer if you just left if you aren't going to help us do our thing.

Like I said, I can understand where he is coming from, I have become increasingly useless over the last few months, but does that mean that I should be "released" from the community? In essence we have been written off because we are part of a demographic that "should" be serving the community rather than being served. I mean that is really what is being said here right? We are middle class, "stable," educated white folks so we must have it together. We just lack commitment or vision or we are just plain lazy and selfish.

Apparently the time frame for being useless is about 6 months before being dismissed. That is one thing I hate about church planting, you don't have time for your people to have a bad year. At an established church, you can weather those down times because there isn't the same sense of urgency for everybody to bring their "a" (or "b" or even "c" game) all the time.

So throughout this whole thing I have been very understanding. We were coming to a change in season, to be sure, and change is hard. We had drifted apart philosophically, and that bled into ministry, I get that. I hated the direction of Sundays and life groups but I knew that was about my preferences. All of this I can take blame for and feel ok with.

Here is what got me: We have had a significant amount of life change in the last 6 months both in our family and our extended family. Not everything I am going to go into here, but we had to make some tough "no-win" decisions about what was best for our family. As I am sharing my concerns and frustrations with a leader in the church who had called me out, he has the nerve to say this, "Ben, you create your own crises." Aside for the brilliant piece of pastoral empathy, I thought, "well if you mean we make decisions then live with the consequences, then yes I take partial responsibility for these crises." But what a thing to say while you are bawling me out for not being active enough in the church. No "how can we help you through these difficult times" or "oh my, you are up to your eyeballs in hospital bills and home repairs and utility debts, maybe we can help with that." Or even, "that must be tough, can I pray for you?" No, Ben, you create your own crises. Beautiful.

This was the first time that I really said, "This really isn't the kind of community I want to be part of." This was two weeks before being "released." So I guess we were on our way out anyway. But it still stinks to get fired right before you are gonna quit, ya know? Guess they felt the same way.

I wish Jesus had had kids

2006-06-04T13:46:00.000-04:00

Kids change everything. I have been thinking recently about how I am supposed to be as a disciple. I'm frustrated that Jesus wasn't a dad because I wonder what he would have done. It feels like, at least at this stage, I have to choose between my family and everything else. I don't feel like I have time for both. You put your time in at work and when you come home all I want to do is love on these two little people God has entrusted to me. I want to spend my time with them while they still want to spend it with me.

But where does that leave me when it comes to being a disciple? Should I be doing this AND helping the poor, reaching the lost, loving my neighbor, and participating in the work of the church? I know the answer is yes, but I don't know how many people do both well. I think it is harder than we think. I know so many Christian men that have regrets about fatherhood. It has been less than two years since I became a father and I have yet to feel like I can do "church stuff" without taking away from "family stuff."

Or am I just an emotional glutton who cannot get enough of the love my children give me? Is it not so much about their needs as my wants? At the end of the day, am I going to always feel like I have neglected something? What do I do with those regrets?

Is there a life in this society where it is possible not to compartmentalize things into "Family," "Ministry," "Work," & "Church?" How do we lay people live the kingdom life & feed our families? Is bringing the kingdom to our jobs and homes enough?

In a slightly related topic:

Right now it is so difficult to go to church on Sunday because it has nothing to do with the rest of my life. I get little out of it other than a sense of guilt that I should be doing more or giving more. It is a huge exhaustion to get two kids under two ready by myself (Julie works) and then take care of them once I get to church as well. I don't know how parents do it. I feel like asking other single parents to do this is almost laughable. Who in their right mind would volunteer for this kind of headache with so little of a payoff? There has to be a better way to be the church and have a family. I have a feeling I am in serious transition on my beliefs again.

For the Love of God, Slow Down

2006-05-22T01:10:00.000-04:00

I was serving lunch at Applebee's the other day, and I had a couple sit in my section. They were probably in their 70's and it soon became apparent that the man was recovering from a stroke. He walked slowly and gingerly to his booth, talked slowly, very softly, and stuttered.

They ordered their drinks and I brought them out, then they said they needed some more time to look over the menu. I came back a few minutes later and he was still looking. I came back a third time and we was still studying his options. Finally, he ordered a chicken salad on the fourth visit.

When their food came out he took literally 30 minutes to eat his salad. And he was eating the entire time.

While they were eating, all around them suits having business lunches, and nurses on their lunch hour, and soccer moms with their kids hurried through their meals rushing in and out, sometimes in less than a half an hour. It was a sad scene.

Afterwards, as I was reflecting on the juxtaposition of the two extremes, the inevitable "what ifs" came to my mind. Then my attention turned to this man's wife. She appeared to be in perfectly good health. But I don't remember her moving any faster, being ready to order any sooner, or eating any quicker. She had slowed herself down to his pace--literally a snails pace. She was having a great time, it seemed. She did it joyfully & patiently. I don't ever remember her trying to rush, apologizing or trying to explain why they were moving so slow. She just had lunch with her husband.

What an amazing act of love. The dignity and respect she gave her husband over lunch by simply slowing down with him.

I thought about my little 21 month old daughter, Ella, and how often I hurry her along, tell her to move faster or sweep her up to get to wherever I am going. I get so frustrated and impatient and anxious. And she is doing absolutely nothing wrong. She could do no different. What if I just slowed down to her pace more often? I would get a lot less done, to be sure, but how much love could I show her by experiencing life with her at her speed?

Yesterday I was on a walk with her out at Turk Lake and caught myself hurrying her along. So I slowed down. We walked slow, uncomfortably slow for me. But Ella had a ball, she discovered dandelions and acorns for the first time, saw swans and waved "hi" to people and talked to her daddy about who knows what. It took us about 45 minutes to go about a half a mile, but my daughter knew that her daddy loved her, that I was willing to live in her world.

It is going to be a challenge to make this a lifestyle change, I have failed many times already with Ella, but I am already thinking through what kind of effects this would have on my other relationships, ministry, church, etc. And the whole time I feel like Jesus is saying, "Don't move too fast for the 'least of these.'"

A chance to get away

2006-05-18T00:33:00.000-04:00

Julie and I had an opportunity to go up north to Petosky for a couple days without the kids this week. This was our first time leaving Liam with someone else over night. We came back refreshed and more in love with each other and with our kids.

A couple of observations:

We traveled 3 hours to do basically what we could have done within thirty minutes of home: we went to a movie, played miniature golf, saw a sunset on Lake Michigan, spent time in the pool and hot tub, watched ESPN, slept in, ate at some great restaurants . . . and I think the most important thing we did was travel three hours to do it.

We spent the three our trip up in nearly complete silence. Julie slept some, read some. I listened to some music, then turned it down and just drove through the alleys of pine trees up 131. It was decompression. After a great time together, the three hour trip home was spent in engaging conversation, some deeply personal stuff and some practical problem-solving marriage stuff. It was re-entry.

I think the trip was also good because it put real distance between us and all things familiar. Our life has been in "challenging" mode since the New Year, and there is perpetually one more thing to do than can be done. I have regularly borrowed Covey's phrase to describe it: The urgent gets in the way of the important. It turns out Space was the savior for the Important. I got myself away and I heard my wife. I heard God. I cherished my kids. Vision and passion were restored.

That is the essence of Sabbath, isn't it? Space to restore vision and passion. Because while the worship we offer with our lives is hard and constant, it is driven by this deep desire to see the Kingdom of God happen among us. Without Sabbath, what should be worship simply becomes work. Then we use what once was Sabbath for escape. We use this space we are given to hide from what is pounding us rather than to go after what can empower us, namely this restoration that we so desperately need.

This, to me, is a real flaw of the American Church. What we do on Sunday has little to do with Sabbath, and we have not discipled our communities to practice a Sabbath reality in their lives. What does Sabbath even look like for a faith community anymore? Can it be practiced corporately or is it an individual or family thing? I'm not sure I have any good answers; it took a three hour drive up the coast for me even to ask the question.

Life update - Facts only

2006-05-12T12:41:00.000-04:00

So, since it has been 6 months since my last post, I suppose it is appropriate to get the whole "how is everything" stuff out of the way so I can move on to talking to myself again.

On Dec. 22, Liam Garett Price was born. That is our son. He was four weeks early, but all was and continues to be well. He is four months old now and is one happy baby.

Ella is almost 21 months old. She is a whirling dervish of babble and sass. Her favorite words are "juice," "ball," "outside," "more," "pas"(pacifier), "bell" (her stuffed duck), "sas" (SAM), and "hi." She loves her alphabet books, climbing, bath time, pretending with her dolls, and playing ball--especially with Josh T. Her favorite television shows are sesame Street, Dora the Explorer, and Blues Clues. And she can almost get a Veggie Tales video started by herself.

Our little puppy, Samwise the Brave, is now a 80 lb. coward who enjoys digging, chewing, and letting Ella smother him with hugs and kisses.

I am working as a server/bartender/expediter at Applebee's, trying to break into management. I have been their since January and I am getting impatient. Julie continues to work in Labor & Delivery, but is now working weekends only. Nice for the family but stinks for church and travel. We are taking a Spanish class together sponsored by the hospital and it has been a lot of fun.

City Life, our church, has been up and down but we continue to remain optimistic that it is where we are supposed to be right now. Our housemates, Gretchen and Josh are both making plans for the next stage of their lives and should be moving out near the end of this month.

The house has had multiple repair/renovations done in the last few months including a new deck & patio door, a new furnace & water heater (not by our choice), all new windows, and some more insulation in the attic. In the next 6 weeks the roof is being replaced and that should end our home improvement work for the next couple years. Up next . . . The yard!

It's been a busy six months. Now that we have that out of the way, I can feel better about focusing on my innerspace.

A new beginning

2006-05-12T12:17:00.000-04:00

Have you ever noticed that when you sin, have a fight, wrong someone, or just fall out of touch, the longer you wait to right the wrong the harder it is? It's this strange tension between pride and shame, isn't it? I suck at admitting failure. That is my excuse for waiting this long to start writing again.

In the rest of my life this reality has often centered around my depression. I think I have a good groove going and then one day I sleep in until 2:00pm and never get out of my pajamas. Then one day turns into two and before I know it, I am avoiding all of my responsibilities, hiding from the world under my blankets, and making excuses for why I have this "general malaise."

I know my depression is real and has a physiological element, so I am not saying that funks aren't going to happen. But I just think it is interesting how much this shame/pride pressure makes it all the more difficult to get out of it. I am so concerned with how people perceive me that if I am going down, I have to go rock bottom so they actually feel sorry for me. Pity is better than judgment, I reason. Of course none of this is consciously done--I am just reacting to the fear inside me.

The interesting thing is that I do have a way of breaking out of it. I simply perform an "Extreme Ben Makeover" and that jumpstarts the growth cycle again. Seriously. One of my favorites is shaving my head or beard. Or I will rearrange furniture or wash the dog. Anything to make a noticeable change in my life.

So it is with this blog, I gave it a paint job, updated some links, gave it a more appropriate purpose statement. Hopefully this will do the trick and I will start writing again.

At least until I miss a week . . .

at the request of my parents . . .

2005-11-14T16:40:00.000-05:00

All is fine at home, but very busy. Josh and Gretchen are settled in, and the pregnancy is going well. 30 weeks down, 10 to go.

new set of pics

2005-09-15T01:40:00.000-04:00

Just a couple of pictures of family life, Ella's first Birthday, and her present--Labrador puppy, Samwise the Brave.

Thoughts on Holiness #3

2005-09-07T17:29:00.000-04:00

So I was thinking today about the Kingdom themes listed above and if they adequately encompass what holiness is. Of course, being a good Wesleyan, I couldn't keep from listing all of the don'ts that we traditionally rally against, and I came to sexual purity. I looked on my list and it didn't seem like that area of our life--or the idea of purity in general--easily fit into these themes.

So as I am wondering why I left out such a central idea of tradtional Wesleyan holiness, I was hit with this epiphany: There is an paradigm or interpretive grid in which holiness in the last hundred years has been understood and articulated. It is the paradigm of purity. We have borrowed it from the Old Testament, attached the values of the early 1900's (in the last couple decades we have updated to the values of the 1950's), and that is how we define holiness. That God is Holy means he is pure and sinless and blameless and without blemish--like the sacrificial lamb.

That idea is true, but it is not necessarily "right"--as in the only understanding of God's Holiness. I think holiness for this generation requires a new paradigm. Rather than holiness as purity, I suggest we consider holiness as fidelity or faithfulness as our new dominant paradigm.

Here is what I like about understanding holiness in light of fidelity instead of purity:

* While purity is individualistic in nature, fidelity is relational in nature. You cannot be "faithful" by yourself. There has to be someone or something we are faithful to.

* While purity is a static state of being, fidelity is a dynamic state, much more context-dependant. Theoretically, one can be pure outside of context. Faithfulness must be re-determined in each moment--not just as an action, but as a belief. It allows for a holiness of the will. It isn't simply that you do it or don't do it--it is also why you do it or don't do it. The consequence, I believe, is that local communities will determine what holiness (as faithfulness) looks like in that context--and as that context changes, so can holiness.

* Purity focuses inward while fidelity gets our minds off of our selves and onto God and others. I am firmly convinced one key to holiness is self-forgetfulness. Learning that this life is not all about you--good or bad. You become more like God not by looking at yourself, but by looking at God.

* Fidelity would shape discussions on alcohol & tobacco in thier proper context--how do they affect our faithfulness to God, home, church, and society. That somehow gets lost in the purity paradigm and A&T becomes about what it does to "me" or what it says about "me" rather than what it does to "us." We would also finally be able to talk about moderation and addiction seperately. I believe addiction would actually take a higher place on our holiness priorities under a faithfulness paradigm because we could distinquish it from simple consumption and see it for the Lordship issue that it actually is.

* Finally, I think that holiness as fidelity is closer to a New Testament understanding of how God is holy. It is his faithfulness that is exemplified more than his purity. And we are called to be a faithful people. I am not suggesting that the idea of purity is not present, but it is not the interpretive grid through which holiness is understood in the NT.

This idea is less than a day old in my mind, so I hold to it tenatively for now.

Thoughts on Holiness #2

2005-09-07T17:23:00.000-04:00

In the Wesleyan church there are about a half dozen or so defacto rules that become our benchmarks for both membership and holiness.

I think there are two big reasons: one, the hijacking of Evangelicalism by the Republican Party and the Religious Right. Really though, I think they seized a trend that was present long before Pat Robertson ever opened his mouth. The combination of an Ardent Natoinalism in the 19th century (all over the western world) exemplified by European colonialism and the US's manifest destiny, and later the evangelical emphasis on personal salvation as being primarily about heaven and hell. When we stopped talking about the Kingdom of God on this earth, it is no wonder that Evangelical loyalties shifted to another kingdom, the laissez-faire, conservative one.

The other reason I think this happens, and has happened throughout church history--though with different issues--is that we have used these issues as boundary markers for who is in and who is out. The thing about markers is that there cannot be too many or it is too hard to sort the "ins" and the "outs." That is why the Sneetches were only concerned about stars on their bellies--they had to keep it simple to keep it straight. So that is what we do, we pick a couple positions that are "non-negotiables" in our minds and use those. This is nothing new since Constantine. What has changed are the issues. And this is where I am calling for a shift in the tone of the conversation.

I am no longer interested in arguing that my set of boundary markers are better suited than anothers. The Pharisees spent all of their time talking about boundary markers; Jesus just kept saying, "walk with me." I like that.

"But how do we know who is in and who is out?" the unified holiness voice screams! I don't know--and they don't really know either. So they create boundaries that make sense to them, all the while Jesus seems to think we are spending too much time thinking about it. That is my problem with "membership requirements" or holiness as we currently understand it--it seems that there are only three options: either throw everything in including the kitchen sink (Pharisees) and overburden everyone, or only use things that would be common to all believers (then whats the point of membership?), or arbitrarily pick certain boundaries and leave others out. When this option is chosen the boundaries that are picked are based on the Bible and Tradition, but perhaps as much as anything they are picked because of the culture in which they are written.

That is why we don't have a membership requirement in the Wesleyan church that prohibits owning slaves--it isn't an issue in our culture anymore. But then cultures change, and the boundaries do not change quickly enough to speak relavently to the new culture. So now we have boundaries that no longer make sense to most of the culture (dancing, cards, etc), and we don't have boundaries in places that would really speak to our culture (ie internet abuse and coffee drinking ).

The mistake we have made is that these "principles" have become absolutes(not for salvation, we would say, but belonging)--and in so have become our Lords. They have become so important to us that questioning them becomes the spiritual equivalent of treason.

That is why re-thinking the way we see and talk about holiness is so important right now. Not so we simply replace these principles with new and improved ones, but so we can step out of this cycle of boundary making and spend that time and energy working on and living in the kingdom themes I mentioned above.

Thoughts on Holiness #1

2005-09-07T17:19:00.000-04:00

(W)holy Living- A Preliminary Note about Context
Holiness happens in the context of four interrelated spheres of Christian living (self, home, church, and society). They are inseparable yet distinguishable. Contextualizing our holiness, then, not only means understanding the relationship between the decision/action and its place in time and space, but also the relationship between the decision/action and the various spheres of our Christian life. We cannot understand self, home, church or society apart from the other spheres, so it would follow that our understanding of holiness would be incomplete without considering each sphere that our decisions/actions affect.

This holistic understanding of the Christian life hopes to broaden our often over-personalized and compartmentalized understanding into something that, though untidy and fuzzy, better represents the complexity and interconnected nature of our Christian Life, while retaining values that have been central to the Wesleyan Holiness tradition.

Paradoxical Holiness

Sabbath --------------- Worship
Justice ----------------- Mercy
Grace ------------------- Truth
Home ------------------- Mission
Freedom ---------------- Deference

Holiness is simply the practice of embracing the “Kingdom of God” way of life that was demonstrated by Jesus Christ and submitting to his Lordship and the guidance of the Holy Spirit in every sphere of our lives. This Kingdom way has certain themes that are represented by the words listed above. By pairing these sets of words together we can see an inherent tension between them. Every relationship, every conversation, every decision and action of consequence must survive these tensions. The tensions offer a paradox. Each word on the left cannot be understood without the word on the right, yet they are neither wholly the same nor are they opposites. Further, holiness requires us to fully embrace each idea without solely embracing that idea at the expense of the other. We are to reside somewhere within the tension of the two.

These themes, however, do not exist in a vacuum, but in the context of the interrelated spheres of our lives. So one cannot take a static position on the continuum and expect that all actions will be holy in all contexts. Let me take one set, define the terms and explore their relationships:

Sabbath & Worship
Sabbath is not so much a day as it is a state of being. It is setting aside time and space to remember, reflect, listen, and rest. God created Sabbath, and Jesus says it is created for people. Because we are created as a Body, I believe that Sabbath should happen at an agreed upon period of time by a community, though Sabbath can be happening at any given moment of our lives. Your physical body parts do not get their primary rest independent of each other, likewise there seems to be wisdom in the Body of Christ resting together. Though, of course, there are times when the feet or eyes (or mouth) may need a rest while the rest of the body continues to work.

I use worship in its broader understanding, that Romans 12:1 “offer your bodies as living sacrifices . . . this is your spiritual act of worship” understanding. So everything you do, if it consecrated unto God, is worship—thought, word, & deed. What we do in a “worship service” is also worship—but it is different. It is worship intended to aid our state of Sabbath. It helps us remember, it celebrates God’s victory, it draws us to God’s character, and it quiets our hearts. Every worship service is a dramatic expression of God’s and our story, encapsulated in word and art to be used as a memory tool while we are go out and worship with the sacrifice of our lives. That kind of dramatic worship takes place in Sabbath moments.

Here is the tension: Without Rom12:1 worship our Sabbath becomes a vacuum, and worship without Sabbath eventually lacks orientation—Sabbath is what helps us remember what (Who) we are worshiping. Holiness is when both of these realities are present in the experience and understanding of our lives, and when we are successfully navigating the change in tension that each new context brings.

2005-07-26T21:33:00.000-04:00

Part of an online conversation I am having about evangelism & missional church--

This is the thought I have been wrestling with as we help plant City Life Church:

If there were no programs to help make disciples (no events, planned parties, Sunday services, small groups, group trips to Cedar Point or whatever) what would my priorities, relationships and conversations look like?

We are trying to order our lives in such a way that trusting, disciple-making relationships and conversations are the fruit. Now I know that seems a bit obvious, but for my wife and I this has been a major shift. Here are some of ways things have changed:

1. We slowed down, waaay down. For us, this has meant traveling less and saying "no" to lots of church activities. We found there wasn't enough space in our schedules for relationships to grow and we didn't have enough flexibility to meet people where they were at. The net result has been a beautiful and often frustrating availability that we believe has provided us with some opportunities we would not have had otherwise.

2. We stopped seeing salvation as the goal. That sounds bad, but as people become disciples, the salvation moment can be a little fuzzy. Some friends have only recognized that they had come to belief after they saw their life change in hindsight. We are more concerned with the direction people are moving than when they cross a line of "belief" If people are acting more like Jesus and trying to participate in the Kingdom life God is building, we believe an assurance of salvation will be one of many fruits that come from the disciple-making relationship.

3. We focused on proximity over affinity. One of the primary purposes of the church is to reflect the Kingdom of God on this earth. We believe that because this Kingdom is diverse, his church should be diverse.

So we moved into the center of the city where there was a lot of diversity--ethnically, socio-economically, religously, and generationally. My particular neighborhood is quite diverse, so that there is not a 50% majority of any one group in any of these catogories.

Then we decided that our job was to help make disciples of all our neighbors. Some were already Christians, so we felt like our job was to encourage them to deeper discipleship and let the unbelievers witness our love for each other. Now we are in the process of building relationships with our non-Christian neighbors--many of which are young people. That we would make the effort to cross many natural barriers has been a powerful testimony in our neighborhood already.

4. We have opened up our home and our lives. We work hard at keeping an open door for our neighbors. Yes, it has been inconvenient and even dangerous (two young guys I had been trying to build a relationship with tried to break into our house this month when we were gone). Currently we are talking about having a single person in their twenties come and live with us for a while. We are trying to become a hangout for the neighborhood kids (they love to play with our 11 month old). We make taking walks in our neighborhood a priority and we try to time them with the greatest amount of activity on the block for the most interaction.

5. Finally, as trust builds, we become more intentional (and formal) with our relationships. For instance, two younger people in our church have asked us to mentor them through their dating experience together, helping them set guidelines and keeping them accountable. We have sought to put ourselves under people we respect to help us grow. Eventually we will gather a group of people (some believers, some not yet) and start a Life Group (our church's small groups).

The point though is that this one formal program (Life Group) is coming out of the way we are living our life--with Kingdom intentions. Now, we are a long way from doing this well, but we are being intentional about it and we are starting to see the fruit. I followed similar disciple-making ideas when I was working in campus ministry with college students with some beautiful relationships and strong disciples coming out of it.

We do have programs in our church, although we won't launch our worship service until this fall (more than one year after what we consider the "start" of the church), but they are all secondary to what we call the "missional actions" we do every day. Those are the things we keep each other accountable to.

It is a much slower way, but we hope that by making stronger disicples over a longer period of time, the kingdom proliferation will be exponential.

Thoughts on church membership

2005-06-02T15:17:00.000-04:00

An Excerpt of my thoughts on church membership from a recent online discussion:

Did you ever watch "Cheers?" Here is what I found fascinating about this show: Along with the stars of the show and the cameo appearances, there are a group of actors that make semi-regular appearances as semi-regulars at the bar. They're present enough to recognize their faces, but not so present to need a place in the strolling.

Interestingly, having worked at a restaurant with a bar-type environment, I found the same dynamic of people groups. Regulars, semi-regulars, and cameos. At gathering places everywhere people find themselves in one of these three roles. And they know their role. The point is not that these roles were definitive or could not change--Lilith went from cameo to semi-reg to regular. It is just that we understand our relationship with the rest of the bar. The obnoxious Yankee fan is not given the remote control. The regulars control the dialogue.

If we can shift our ecclesiological paradigm for a minute from church as identity giver to church as gathering place, we could see a potential shift in value away from "lines" and toward "space." For instance, it appears many folks today (at least folks under 30) increasingly find more value/enjoyment in associating with people from diverse backgrounds and perspectives despite their differing opinions--as long as they are gracious and kind to each other. The dissonance has taken on a positive value. Globalization and urbanization both have contributed to the heterogenization of our society, and a new generation that has grown up in it has become rather comfortable in it--even amiable to it.

So what in the world does all of that have to do with church membership? Several non-connected and potentially incoherent points:

1. I believe people understand when they have taken or been given "membership" in a community, regardless of when/if they receive a certificate. What makes us nervous is when its not "official" Without stated boundaries, the community takes on a much more fluid, dynamic, even unstable quality. It means that our requirements could change . I understand the risks here . . . but do we want our community to resemble an institution or a family, an organization or a movement. Is the potential for bad change more likely than the potential we CANNOT or WILL NOT change once we know that 'them's the rules?'

2. Because of the culture's growing affinity to difference/dissonance, I am not sure identification is any longer synonymous with belonging. For sure, people still long to belong--but not in the same way. This generation has a phobia of labels. They don't find them useful because they recognize the irony in them. Case-in-point: describe what a liberal is. Ask a hundred people, how many different answers do you get? So then, when we create "membership" labels, who are we creating them for? Particularly if the people in the bar already know when they are regulars (You know when that is right . . . when everybody knows your naaaame--sorry, I couldn't resist).

3. I am struck by the story of Jesus' disciples wanting to stop the "non-disciple" from casting out demons in the name of Jesus. Jesus says, "Leave him alone--he's not our enemy, so he's on our side." I believe Jesus is making one of his many, many commentaries about the danger of setting boundaries about who is in and who is out. It isn't that it shouldn't be done, it just takes a lot of wisdom to not screw it up and get short-sighted about the whole thing. In what ways are being "not like us" truly important for this community?

4. I am working under a paradigm that is more interested in members of a community rather than members of a doctrinal position. I think this generation shares that perspective. It prefers locality, relationship, and the community of the now. It is less tied to any particular historical lineage--it prefers to associate with multiple histories. I love being a Wesleyan, but these days I am learning more from the Anabaptist tradition than anything else--so I have aligned myself with their story, too. And as a church leader I hope to shape our community in that way. We bristle at that idea. Old allegiances die hard, I suppose.

5. Finally, I struggle with the idea of EMPHASIZING lines. I maybe willing to go with a word like 'acknowledging'--but not if you capitalize it, or 'witnessing,' particularly if you would put it in italics for me. Part of that comes from our tendency to dichotomize evangelism and discipleship. While in some ways they are different tasks, they are the same relationally. I think it is all disciple-making. I think we are all in the process of becoming disciples from the moment we encounter the reality of God and chose to move in that direction. Even when we don't move--we cannot always know at the time which events have begun the disciple-becoming process in us.

If we could see the church as parade--Justo Gonzalez calls it romeria: part parade, part festival, part picnic--we would see the community in motion, inviting and picking up observers along the way, perhaps for the exercise, perhaps for the food, or perhaps because they want to see the party at the end. We don't really know when they ceased to become observers and actually became part of the parade. All we know is that they chose to get up and walk in this direction, whatever the reason. And really, what kind of parade would it be if we spent our attention trying to decide exactly who was part of it?

Uncomfortable amounts of newness

2005-02-17T23:57:00.000-05:00

The law of diminishing returns is no joke. I like Krispy Kreme donuts . . . but not after the dark side of a half dozen. I also like change, but after the last few weeks, I'd rather go back to Krispy Kremes.

EVERYTHING in my life is new and strange right now. New schedule, new jobs, new responsibilities, new city & state, new car, new house, new phone number, new insurance, new bank, new driver's license, new internet provider, new cell phone, new cable (ok, so cable itself is new for us), new daycare for Ella, new stresses . . . I am done.

So much change makes one crave the familiar. A conversation, a smell, a ritual, a picture . . . I have been embracing and absorbing those few things in life that have remained the same in the last little while. I am home, but I am not home. I am a stranger in my own skin.

And people want me to get on doing life, yet it is harder than that. Just "doing life" right now seems as difficult as "just taking a walk" but doing it blindfolded. Yeah, I can put one foot in front of the other, but who knows what I'm kickin' up?

Mornings

2005-01-10T08:35:00.000-05:00

Most winter mornings my daughter, Ella, is up before the sun. So she and I head downstairs for a morning bottle (for her, not me) and sit in the ugly brown recliner. After finishing off the bottle like a ravenous hobbit, she leans her head back over the crook of my arm, looks at the ceiling and starts to talk. Its like we are two friends sitting on the hood of a car stargazing as we talk about loves and dreams, fears and regrets.

This goes on for a fifteen minutes or so, then Ella squirms to sit up and we play--face to face--for a half an hour or so, while the nearly rising sun casts a pale blue light through the closed blinds into the living room. Then, just a few minutes before Ella goes back down for a nap, I reach behind my right ear and turn the blinds open and the life of morning is revealed right in front of her. I would exchange the rest of my day to spend those five minutes looking at the wonder in her eyes.

For as long as I can remember, I have wished for a disciplined morning "quiet time." It's never worked for me. Our townhouse is full of life in the mornings--Julie is off to work by 6:15, there is the bustling of breakfast in the Benjamin's kitchen on one side, and by the time Brooke leaves for work, Joel is strumming on the guitar to start the day on the other. (There is a familiar comfort in hearing the indistinct banging of guitars through my walls--reminds me of college). But B.E. (before Ella), I was a zombie until about, oh, lunch.

I say that only to say that the morning "devotional" that happens between Ella, God and me each morning blows any expectations I have ever had out of the water. It is worship for me. My heart pours out thanksgiving as I watch the gift in my lap. I understand Love better because of these mornings, and that is as valuable as any of my Bible studies.

Here is the point though: I am struck by how often love and fear are wrapped up in the same moments, the same relationships, the same visions. For each moment I look lovingly on my daughters face, a passing thought reminds me that I could lose her anytime. For all of the beautiful moments between Julie and I, doubt still creeps in. For all the passion I have about my future dreams, it is regularly punctured with fears of inadequacy and disappointment. There is no sure confidence in my love. No absolute trust. It is not Perfect Love.

That is enough for me to chew on for a while.

New Year's Thoughts

2005-01-10T03:09:00.000-05:00

I wrote this early on New Year's Day:

It is two hours into the New Year. The aftertaste of the midnight wine is still on my breath, and I just finished watching the Appendices of The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King straight through. This was our first full day home after being on the road for the last three weeks, and my first day at home since finishing grad school. Even in going out for Taco Bell at 10:00 this evening, I haven’t even gotten out of my new Cat in the Hat pajamas.

About six hours ago Julie came home with a pile of cardboard boxes. They stare back at me as a reminder that life keeps moving. I have 14 days before I fly to Grand Rapids to start my new job, 26 days before we hope to close on our first house, 30 days before we are supposed to move all of our earthly belongings across the Midwest, and 38 days before Julie starts her new job.

Life keeps moving. My baby daughter Ella turned 4 months old 10 days ago, and she discovers something new every day. She is changing before our very eyes—growing and learning. She talks for minutes at a time without using consonants. Her tiny hands clamp down on any bottle that comes in her reach. She sucks her thumb, her fingers, our fingers, and anything else she can get in her mouth. She just started giving her mommy and me full, slobbery, open mouth kisses. And she smiles—all the time. Giggling and squealing at the sight of her parents or toys. My favorite moments right now are when I go into her room to get her up from her nap. I sneak in and peer over the crib—when she sees me, her whole face lights up and she throws her arms up towards her daddy.

This New Year, more than most, seems to be a call for new beginnings for our family. So I suppose it is a natural time for reflection and projection, even if a bit clichéd. Rather than make absurd resolutions that are based on fantastic whims that slip into my consciousness without a hint of historical evidence that I actually have the perseverance and willpower to follow through on them, I have decided to seize the momentum of a growing theme in my life and thoughts in hope that it will continue this trajectory and substantial life change may be realized: There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear .

I hope to spend the rest of the year trying to figure out what this means. I have some initial thoughts, but none coherent enough yet to even type.