bierkergaard

I am a big believer in just doing something rather than nothing. Let me explain. We are told a lot to dream big and have a vision for our lives. While generally good advice, it can also be intimidating. Where do I start, how long is this going to take, will I succeed or fall on my face? Ah, forget it. Let me tidy up my rut rather than try to climb out of it. Dreams demand a lot and wishes weigh heavy. Prayers come at a price. Resolutions can lead to dissolution, then to depression. Maybe it would be better to see goals as moving in the right direction versus some over-arching triumph. For instance, this morning I woke up early at 5:00 am. My body pretty much gets me up around 5 no matter what. Doesn't really matter what time I fall asleep. I wish I could adjust my internal clock like the I-Phone alarm clock for those days of the week where I am not off to work. No such luck. Sometimes I can get to 5:30 which is sleeping in for me. Fortunately, my body cooperates with compensatory

I found myself circling key ideas and thoughts throughout this book--which is appropriate considering that author Craig Groeschel uses three circles to illustrate his three key principles of "Core Values," "Spiritual Gifts," and "Past Experiences." Visit www.chazown.com for the illustration of these 3 concepts. How does one get into the Chazown Zone? In Logic, where three circles overlap is where all three circles share a common characteristic, so it becomes a major unifying theme. Like a tripod, the revelation, and vision (Chazown is the Hebrew word for such an idea) rests as a camera on these three ideas. Reading this book gives to the reader a panoramic picture of how to go from here (present state) to the Chazown Zone. As such, it should help readers define the three ideas into practical steps. You can get there from here! I like how the book concludes in that Groeschel explains that we are accountable to God in the end how well we worked out what God

While out in California, Lina and I watched Oliver Stone's Alexander. The film, suitably epic in its ambition to capture an epic story, fell short. Nearly epic. Yet, it did seem to be an accurate retelling of the rise and fall of Alexander the Great. Stone should have told Angelina Jolie to can the Russian accent. She played Olympias, the diabolical and duplicitous mother of Alexander. Everyone else in the film, except a minor actor in a small role who seemed to be channeling a Scottish accent from Braveheart, spoke in a more or less American accent. But Jolie laid the Russian accent on thick as the Femme Fatale. She sounded like Natasha, Boris' sidekick, from this Rocky and Bullwinkle clip. After watching the film, I went a reading about Alexander. I found that when he had entered Jerusalem he had been shown the prophesy from Daniel about how he was to subdue the East. He took this as a sure sign to proceed. In the aftermath of the battles fought and the victories won, Alexa

Yesterday, I tried unsuccessfully to write my blog on my I-Phone while heading North on Highway 5. No, I wasn't driving. People really shouldn't blog while driving, especially on these fourteen lane montrosities here in the City of Angels. I got as far to the actually web page "new post" page and that is where it came to an end. For some reason, I couldn't get the keyboard to materialize. I thought it would be cool to do my travelogue in transit, commenting smartly in a stream of traffic consciousness on all things L.A. Just for the heck of it, here is the "Walking in L.A." video from Missing Person's which sounds dated but still strangely hip. Be assured that no one still walks in L.A., although I just read this morning in the L.A. Times that the murder rate is way down. Our host for the day, my buddy Todd (who I know from his earlier incarnation as a Central Pa. resident) typically dials up a creative retinue of events to delight and amaze the tou

The miracle of Christmas are many and mulitudinous. Yet, how the Almighty places Himself in a position of vulnerability by taking on flesh is truly the most miraculous. The One who is infinitely strong assuming weakness. He was...the God in diapers, worshipped, given gifts, hunted to be killed, hungry and thirsty, precocious, humble, misunderstood, loved, hated, envied, followed, taken advantage of, laughed at and ridiculed, amused, frustrated, angered, popular, on the outs, perplexed, amazed, pleased, disgusted, lonely and afraid, forgotten, bold, forgiving, merciful, confrontational, irritated, patient, a friend, a family member, a teacher, a brother, a son, a leader, ignored, persecuted, betrayed, questioned, a questioner, not just truth, the Truth. Not just a way, the Way. Not just a life, the Life. LOVE. In all ways, just like us, yet without sin. Beaten, mocked, whipped, spit on, crucified, died, and buried. Raised on the third day, who now intercedes for us with the Father. He w

This Christmas season, I purposed in my heart, I was going to be more mindful of God and not get distracted by all the holiday hoopla. I was going to create a place inside for Christ. Well, my best intentioned plans have been destructed by some other condition inside...what appears to be a viral infection attacking my gastrointestinal track. I have been dashing alright...but not through the snow, but to the nearest john. I will spare you the details. Let us just say that the last five days have been unpleasant. Since September I have been consistently praying to God--among many other issues--that I would not allow my belly, my appetites, to rule me like Caesar's. Primary of these autocratic appetites is the eating of food. I want to appreciate good food yet not be in worship of the god of gluttony. Second, that my periodic episodes of backaches, that come and go--usually when I do something stupid to strain my back--teach me the weakness of my flesh and the folly and futility of t

The three books that I purchased recently at the Hoboken bookstores are: - Iron John: A Book About Men by Robert Bly ( John Eldredge has basically co-opted and somewhat Christianized Bradshaw's writings). - A Mighty Fortress: A New History of the German People by Steven Ozment (being 3/4's German, all direct relatives off the boat and on U.S. soil before the rise of Hitler, gives me a personal and familial interest in the work). - For Whom The Bell Tolls by some dude Ernest Hemingway (never heard of him, but I will give a shot). It is the story of the Spanish Civil War and disillusionment..."the tragic death of the ideal" as noted on the back cover. All three books have a strong masculine tilt. Most countries refer that their collective nation as the Motherland...Germany is one that refers to itself as the Fatherland. I am sure that Freud would have had a field day exploring the paternal psycho-sexual reasons for this. I am not sure why I obtained this testostero

I spent the mid-week in New York City. Besides working on my jaded deadpan "I have seen it all" look for the subway and street, which seems to be a pre-req for citizen status (at least honorary) in N.Y.C., I had a rich time at the Media Bistro E-Book conference. It is certainly a time of great transition in publishing. From what I can discern, the book market is going to bifurcate into two halves. First, the boutique store, either used or new, that caters to what makes bookstores interesting. Discovering literary gems by walking around...to find books that you know you are looking for without knowing that you are looking for them. Second, the E-Book, content delivered to your computer screen or some facsimile. Media mediators play a big role in both types...people who can help one narrow the search, either indirectly by what they choose to draw attention to in terms of offerings or helping make a selection in regards to what is presented as choices. There will be the midd

So, last night we were at a Christmas party with Lina's co-workers at the company and town Milton built--Hershey, for my vast readership outside of the local area. No Hershey chocolate in sight but they did have some banging catered Indian food from the restaurant Passage to India in Harrisburg. A great time and great party. The caterer dude couldn't back the van up very well...if it had been a driving test he would have flunked because he was knocking down those thin poles that people with long and twisty driveways have to indicate where the driveway is in case of voluminous snow for the snow plow. My wife Lina mercifully intervened and operated as a guide for him to back up without more carnage (vanage?) ensuing. Fortunately the food was better than his driving . He did a great job orchestrating the culinary event and the food was quite delicious. I did my share of shoveling indeed. I deliberately grabbed two paper plates and stacked 'em because I knew that I would be

Heading to NYC on Tuesday night. I am ramping myself up by watching the video Empire State of Mind . Many of my fondest recollections of Christmas and the Christmas season come from New York City. My grandparents lived in Queens. The Christmas countdown officially started in my heart's chronometer when seeing Santa wave to the crowd in the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade. Every precious second...tick, tick, tick till Dec. 25. In 1968, my family spent a magical Christmas in NYC. My older brother Mike got all worked up that my grandparents didn't have a chimney for Santa to climb down to give us gifts...the adults telling him that they would leave the front door ajar didn't assuage him. He needed a chimney. So, my Opa (kraut for Grandfather) bought a faux chimney mantle piece. My brother was satisfied that met the Santa spec, regardless that there was no actual chimney going up to the roof. I figured chimney or not, Santa could come up with a way to deliver the gifts...I thi

I would say one of the most glaring contrast in my nature from youth until now as a middle aged man is that whereas--in my days of yore youth--I resisted taking out the trash, now I embrace it as a cathartic activity; giving me a sense of completion and closure, which is pretty much opposite how my life goes most of the time. Usually, I kind of wait to see what happens in my day-to-day, because often I don't know what is coming, especially true in my job as a school counselor. Enforced flexibility...if you don't bend, you break. Yes it is interesting and exciting always, and just a bit stressful. So, when I see the trash can brimming, I hardly dawdle in pulling the red cord of the refuse white bag and dispatch the trash into the outer darkness. My own Gehenna. Take care of business, take it out, don't delay. Act now. It gives me profound satisfaction. As a kid, this chore caused me to delay until the decay and the smell and heaping overflow compelled action. It was one o

Yesterday was the day was when John Lennon was assassinated 30 years ago. I don't recall where I was or what I was doing when I heard the news...the Beatles were not a band a paid a lot of attention to when I was in high school. Only until I became older, have I come to appreciate how their acclaim was truly deserved. Something about their music resonates in a way the very little else does. In reading over the various pieces yesterday about John Lennon, I was surprised to learn in the 1970's, he dabbled seriously with the Christian faith, ultimately dropping his engagement. But it was more than just a one night conversion...he claimed to be born-again and even struck up a back and forth correspondence with Oral Roberts the Elder. No fooling. Seems, because of his fame, Lennon stayed inside a lot and watched televangelists. In a sad irony, Lennon sought to distance himself from fame whereas his assassin Mark David Chapman sought fame through an infamous act. Fame is not only

No, I am not going to write a piece about Santa but I did want to be seasonal. Yesterday, besides bottling my Belgian Quad and doing laundry, I was updating my "Lists." I am an inveterate list-maker. To some, it might look like a manifestation of OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder). It is not; it actually something that keeps me from being OCD. You want to see me become a compulsive nail-biting, cuticle pulling, hand-washer? Take away my list-making. I keep a Saturday To-Do List (Saturdays are the day to tie up loose ends and do work that needs to be done...six days ye shall work type of thing), a Seasonal To-Do List updated every quarter, and a general Home To-Do list of things that I just need to be mindful of...like how much Comcast rates are going up and my desperate quest to find another way to have internet service. I also keep a Work To-Do list at school...alphabetical by task and then student last name. That came quite in handy for my Sabbatical replacement last year

The state of Israel is experiencing one of its worst droughts in history. A fire is presently engulfing the Mt. Carmel region of her land. Reforestation and lack of rain is a bad combination. Here is some video. As a historical parallel that is hard to dismiss as inconsequential, Mt. Carmel was the location of the "Firefight" between Elijah and Ahab, really God vs. Baal. Human actors in a divine drama (see 1 Kings 18). It is always necessary to be cautious when trying to connect the dots of the Almighty's actions to events on earth, yet the Bible is quite clear over and over again that God acts in real time in creation, not just providentially behind the scenes. If He appears to not be active, be careful in that conclusion. He is in the Fire. Recently, Lina and I watched the film Defiance about Jews in a forest fighting back against Nazi occupiers . It is based on a true story. God, in the film, is not portrayed as taking up the cause of the Jews in the sense that He

In a conversation with my wife the other night, she mentioned that the current hotel where she is staying in Mexico City lacks swag. On the other hand, the "W" hotel in New York City apparently has mad swag. A black girl at school the other day called me "Mad Tall" so now I am using mad as a mega-modifier. I went to the definitive Urban Dictionary to cop me a definition of swag since it is a word that we don't use much in my line of work with limited budgets, where we buy our own pens and paper to get stuff that actually works. We are swag-deprived. Here is the definition: appearance, style, or the way he or she presents themselves. The alternate definitions on Urban Dictionary get, let us say, more carnal as we descend down the page. One of the paradoxical realities of the Gospel is that Jesus, God, the epitome of authority, power, and possessions, comes to earth as a man and forgoes His swag. Philippians 2:7 Instead, he gave up his divine privileges; he to

The other night I was cleaning up the kitchen with Lina. She went outside to close up the grill and I continued to wash and dry the plates, pots, and the utensils. In the interim when Lina was outside, I cracked a large red Betty Crocker plastic spoon (see item on left). The clock ticked slowly... When she returned, I confessed my carelessness and expressed my sorrow. As of a couple of years ago, I might have said something along the lines of, "It is just a spoon" or "I didn't mean it" or something else less than sympathetic. Instead, I said "I am sorry" and I meant it. There can often be a strategic and tactical reason to apologize even if we don't mean it, but better in God's eyes to not pretend. Jesus was harsh on hypocrites. Best to be truly sorry. The spoon has been with Lina for over 13 years when she was 24, living in Minneapolis, and working for General Mills...all things I did not know until the spoon was broken. As such, the spoon

My Dad stopped by our house on Tuesday on the way out to Pittsburgh. Lina and I decided to not join some of the rest of the family out there since she has been travelling so much recently. My Dad had some precious cargo in his caravan.... Strombolis from Berwyn Pizza, close to where we grew up. The freezer in our garage looked like an Italian culinary armory. No, the Strombolis were not for me--all twenty of them--were for my brother Steve out in Pittsburgh. I am certain that if a 15 lb Stromboli was served for Thanksgiving Dinner rather than Turkey, that Steve would be quite pleased. I am partial to the Sugar Bowl (in Millersville) Strombolis anyway. I will buy the Sugar Bowl Strombolis in lieu of a special trip down to Berwyn for Steve and he is grateful nonetheless. But, no doubt, he prefers Berwyn's. At some point there is going to be an Olympian Stromboli-off, with Gold and Silver being awarded. I wonder if any of those totally fair and impartial East German judges are still

So, I was reading on the web that rather than raking the leaves and bagging them, better to chew 'em up in the lawn mower and blow them onto the dirt in the yard as a mulch. Made sense to me...and less work. What happened though is that the leaf fragments all were cast away to the four corners of the earth. Like messages in bottles, they are blowing ashore elsewhere. Forensically-speaking, my neighbors will have a difficult time identifying the yard of origin due to the jigsaw puzzle-like leaf particles all in the hood. I feel kind of bad...as if I just subcontracted my leaf collection to others. Plus, we are not the only ones with Birch trees around. The other night I happened to be reading Job. Occasionally, I man up and gird my loins for Job. There was a verse where Job compares himself to a leaf. Job 13:25 Wilt thou break a leaf driven to and fro? I find his tragedy comforting in that Job withstands the satanic fragmenting and scattering. The book ends with the verse, "

One of the most lethal ailments of a human soul is ingratitude. There are sins that are more public yet few are more deadly. In Romans 1:21, the Apostle Paul writes: Because that, when they knew God, they glorified [him] not as God, neither were thankful; but became vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was darkened. This verse is not only just a indictment of the Pagans; which it surely is, because all people know there is a God but humanity suppresses the truth in unrighteousnesses. In other words, the wicked heart leads, and the mind follows behind on a leash. Intellectual argumentation just does the bidding for a heart in rebellion. Paul's opening salvo was a heat and heart-seeking missile into the center of Roman pride. It is also an indictment of religious types who give mouth service to God but whose hearts are equally astray (probably most specifically a reference to many of the Jews): Romans 2:1 Therefore you have no excuse, O man, every one of you who judge

I have been listening to WITF public radio the last couple of days and one of the morning hosts keeps referring to Thanksgiving as "Turkey Day." That is like calling a Wedding celebration "Cake Day." It is crass and uneducated and even desecrating. I would expect a DJ from FM 97 to mouth such a banal statement, not a supposed enlightened voice of the local intelligentsia. Sounds more like the daily special at the local greasy spoon along with chicken waffles and oyster stew and stuffed peppers. Reminds me of what Bart Simpson prays at Thanksgiving Dinner, "We paid for this ourselves so thanks for nothing." Lisa Simpson, in the Episode Bart vs. Thanksgiving laments: I saw the best meals of my generation Destroyed by the madness of my brother. My soul carved in slices By spikey-haired demons. -- `Howl of the Unappreciated' by Lisa Simpson, ``Bart vs. Thanksgiving.'' Here is Lincoln's original proclamation establishing Thanksgiving .

It is interesting, and just a tad frustrating to me, that I know certain principles are good to practice. But, then I forget to do so, pay the price, and relearn and reapply the same lesson. One such principle is looking up when lifting a heavy weight. This is a principle that I "lifted" from lifting weights. Whenever bearing a lot of weight--for squats or like movement--I look up. Looking up arches the back to a more stable posture. If I don't, spasm city. I was lugging a 40 lb of container of Belgian-to-be up the stairs the other week. I had no idea it weighed that much until I did the math. I wasn't planning having to carry up the stairs into the upstairs guest bedroom closet until I discovered the Quad needed to be fermented at a warmer temperature than the basement. Man, my back was shot for days. Old crotchety man I was. On Saturday I had to pour off the trub in the brew along with the hops and other matter. I remembered to look up and no problems with transport

I was listening to an interview with rapper and former crack dealer Jay-Z on Fresh Air this week. Jay-Z mentioned a line from the film Scarface: " Don't get high on your own supply." The writer of this interview relayed this observation: "Through his 14 years on the streets, he never touched crack. He says there was a strict code among successful hustlers." Here is Jay-Z talking about his years as a crack dealer, versus not being a crack user: "We had these guidelines to help us out," he says. "Some of us died, some of us didn't. I never wanted that. I saw what it was doing to the community." To his credit, Jay-Z now acknowledges the awful irony in his former logic. A perverse inversion of the Golden Rule. So good that God does not treat us as we can treat others. Romans 5:8 But God commends his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us

I have been doing a lot of reading about social networking media (Facebook, Twitter, etc). Concurrently, I have also been doing a lot of brewing of Belgian Beer. Both are passions of mine. There are actually parallels between the two. Let me explain. Fermentation occurs when yeast is put in a liquid at a warm temperature with a lot of sugar. This equals explosive and exponential growth. It is pretty elementary and not exactly high level Chemistry. Given the right ingredients and conditions, fermentation will happen. It is inevitable. Now, the beverage might not taste good for a lot of reasons but that does not mean that the fermentation did not happen (the conversion of sugar to ethanol). Good brewers know how to both produce and consume the beverages created wisely. Social Networking Media has many analogous variables. There is an yeast-like audience waiting to consume information through technology (i.e. the sugar and equipment and the process) and the goal is to distill something ou

John 14:3 "And when I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also." Yesterday I was cleaning the house, preparing for Lina's return from a three week business trip...the longest time away she has been thus far in our marriage. My bride came home. I did my best in the previous three weeks to not sully the carpet and hard wood floors with dirt and to keep the kitchen relatively clean, knowing full well that my definition of clean does not even make it into Lina's dictionary. Saturday was Judgment Day when I literally cleaned house. I am far from OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) when it comes to cleaning...I am more NOCD. I try, but I find myself not preoccupied with dust and dirt...my previous bachelor pad was a veritable winter wonderland of dust, like one of those liquidy shake toys encased in plastic, where the snow falls on a picturesque scene after you agitate its contents. Every day was Chr

Now that the time has been adjusted an hour earlier, I can see the two giant wind turbines in the distance atop of Turkey Hill again as I descend daily for my commute to work. Here is the funny and odd thing. Every time I look, they are not moving. At all. Ever. As I did my crack investigation, I found out that they are not operational yet despite looking good to go. Always good to check the facts. Ah, the metaphor. Scripture knowledge is both structural and spiritual. The structure need to be built and enlivened by the Spirit. People these days talk about being spiritual but their spirituality is akin to a gust of wind that blows stuff around the neighborhood--garbage cans, leaves, toys, and trash--aimlessly. Have "faith in faith" kind of thinking. No objective, just subjective. The idol is flatulent tolerance. Others have the structure of religion...solid, immovable, like a rock...dead. The wind blows and blows and that rock ain't going anywhere...the pew like Pilgrim&#

The term "Too Big To Fail" is an interesting and paradoxical saying. Usually bigness connotes strength and power. To be in danger of failing usually means weakness and powerlessness. So how is it, in our age, that power and powerlessness are embodied in the same institutions, like AIG, Wall Street firms, and automakers? Like this verse in Daniel shows, with a weak foundation, everything else is weak. "Thou, O king, sawest, and behold a great image. This great image, whose brightness was excellent, stood before thee; and the form thereof was terrible. This image's head was of fine gold, his breast and his arms of silver, his belly and his thighs of brass, His legs of iron, his feet part of iron and part of clay." -- Daniel 2: 31-33 (KJV) The lower one goes, to first things and founding principles--the feet, the weaker it gets. The conceit of this saying is that somehow we think we can keep these institutions from failing...backed by the biggest failing instituion

Last night at our neighborly monthly Bible Study/Dinner get-together, we got in a discussion about truth, or Truth with a capital "T." Everyone believes in small "t" truth. Much more of a challenge to convince people that Truth exists beyond our own subjective perceptions...scholarly term for this is Constructivism. Someone mentioned, in reference to a difficult situation involving a lot of people, that these individuals had to learn "to stand up for themselves." I challenged her to rethink this. I said that we have to learn to stand up for Truth, not ourselves. I said that Truth is a warrior. Too often, when we stand up for ourselves it falls into the "me-first" mentality, look out for # 1, etc. When we stand up for Truth, we put ourselves under its banner and also accept the duty that this entails...for the Truth, like a sword, cuts both ways. We must let it does its work on and in us too. This can hurt, but it heals. Satan is called &quo

Just finished a plate of eggs and it got me thinking... When I was a kid, my mom alternated between hot cereal and eggs for breakfast. Eggs were thought to be so-so nutritionally...some good, some bad. The cholesterol was presented as the major downside. So my mom, the daughter of a nutritionist, followed this plan for years. I appreciated her mindfulness. Yet, like most conventional wisdom, time has shown that nutritional advice to be not so wise. Eggs are nutritional powerhouses . More yet...they contain a large proportion of what is termed "good" cholesterol vs. "bad" cholesterol. Of course, there is a limit to how much of them we should eat daily, but for the price, there is hardly a better kind of food out there. I disagree with the last link on one point: I do think free range chicken eggs are healthier and more nutritionally vibrant....all I can say is that I have seen and tasted the difference. It is almost scary how deep a yellow organic eggs are. Jesus s

I run around my neighborhood like a I would a track, except it is hilly. Never really knew why they called Mountville its name until I actually did more than just drive through it on 462 which is a flat as a pancake. So there is the Mount part and the Ville part. In my hood, it seems like almost everyone has a dog. I am one of those people who loves most dogs but don't really want the responsibility of taking care of it. So, I get to pet all of my furry neighbors when they are out for a walk and then they go their way and I go mine. Kind of Rent-A-Pet. I win, the dog wins. And, I get to know the people on the block. I have notice a principle in and around where I live. The smaller the dog, the nastier, vicious, and downright mean these little canine Hitler's are...there are of course some exceptions, like my neighbor's chihuahua who is totally chill and a small white little curly thing who peers at me cautiously. Small souls, like dogs, get meaner the smaller they are.

On Sunday night I watched a documentary about Tupac Shakur called Thug Angel . Lina is not a big fan of documentaries...but I am, so I am packing them in while she is away. The Wifi download option from Netflix is sweet. This documentary was a story of Tupac's life from start to finish, and a brutal end it was. There was a a video of him in the film when he was 17. He was quite a sensitive, perceptive, socially-conscious, and intelligent kid. Someone who I'd relish talking with as a school counselor. In the video, he recounted how there was a girl that he really loved who broke up with him because he treated her too well. Apparently, he was "too nice" in her words. The prototypical girl who loved bad boys. Ah, the sins of Eve. It seemed to be a turning point for Tupac because soon after, he embraced all things thug. He made millions. But that kid who wanted to be a force for good became an agent of evil. It was as if he said, "You want a bad-ass Nigga (he used Ni

On the way home from work, I was listening to NPR. Yes. me hard-core Conservative that I am. I am so ashamed. Nonetheless, there was a piece aired about French Shepherd's Pie and a new book called "Around My French Table" . The author mentioned some ingredients and I began to envision what our fridge had in it to see if I could whip something up like it when I got home. A couple of days ago I had taken a 4 lb pork shoulder out of deep freeze and was thinking a stew. So, I had the meat. If you have the meat, like solid doctrine, you can go from there. Butter, yep, onions, yep, heavy cream, nope (but we did have some cream cheese, close enough), garlic, yep, carrots, yep. Although we have a pile of potatoes, I passed b/c I am trying to cut carbs. When I arrived home, I did a quick search for a pork shoulder stew recipe. I found something called Bavarian Pork Tenderloin Stew, just so I could check measurements. Not much into the slacker French these days. I also added some

I heard a provocative talk from Christian musician, author, and speaker John Fisher several years ago around Halloween time where he deftly explained a wise perspective on the celebration of Halloween. Much of the same thoughts are in his essay "Home for Halloween." The main point I remember from his talk is that some Christians take the one night where the neighbors actually walk around with their kids and interact, and boycott the celebration b/c of their concern that the night is sponsored by Satan Inc. Fisher did identify where Christians should draw the line on the macabre, gruesome, and nefarious elements of the celebration. The mindless embrace or the cold shoulder approach to Halloween are both less than the biblical ideal. Just because some of what is in the Halloween bag is evil, doesn't mean that we have to throw the whole bag out. Some churches sponsor a Reformation Day (Oct 31) where it is advised that the kiddos dress up like Luther and Calvin. Now, th

Yesterday, I went to the local chop shop here in Mountville to get my hair mowed down to stubble. I have an unusual problem for a 47 year old. My hair grows quickly, and not just out of my ears (like a lot of other aging dudes). Not that I don't have that issue, mind you. Last week I wrote about our CSA where we got over-run with weekly produce. I have the same issue with my mane. It is as if my follicles are trapped in a teenage timewarp and don't act their age. While most guys, by the time they have seen as many moons as I have, massage and cajole their remaining hair to just hold on--some even rubbing in that nasty Rogaine glub--my hair just grows on blissfully unaware that it is not acting its age. I have a dilemma when I get my haircut...if I get it cut the way I like it length-wise, it is not too long, before it is too long. So, I got it cut short. The barber hesitated on the top of my head like a downhill skier at the apex of the mountain, asking me if I was sure that

So Lina left today for a three week business trip...three weeks! Her travel itinerary looks like something from a game of Risk. No Irkutsk. Yet. I will be Bachin' it for 21 days...I am going to de-evolve back into a dust and dirt oblivious beast. Four years of marriage domesticity and training lost. But, I am looking for a hard-core housekeeper to do a cleaning intervention a day or two before Lina returns. Willing to pay a cold pile of cash. The initial elation of being alone, being able to do what I want, wears off soon enough...I start to recall the lonely nights and inward chants of nobody loves me, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner, and listless weekends where I didn't have the guts to tough out one more Singles event crammed full of Divorcees with kids. I love my wife, and sometimes her leaving reminds me of this the best. The object around the house that makes me most sad when Lina is away is her empty slippers with that faux fur inside. They sit next to the

In the last several years, I have been trying to drink more water. Some H2O authorities state that the average person should divide their body weight by two and drink the ounces of what that number is...so I weigh 230 lbs, I should be drinking about 115 ounces of water a day. Not all at once, but in hourly aquatic allocations. It is supposed to be healthier to be hydrated (yeah, that is the word, after several minutes of pondering) . I do find that I walk the three blocks to the men's faculty bathroom at work a lot more...and the trot is good for me. But, it just seems to be too much agua. Yet, I attempt to quaff two 16 oz glasses in the morning and another two glasses when I get home from work. So, I am around 80 oz's a day from that and other sources. Lina and I have found leaving the Brita container on the kitchen counter to be the best reminder to drink water. I like my water either hot or cold, but in this case, lukewarm seems to be unavoidable. When we stick the contain

Today was a bittersweet day. It was the end of our CSA program (Community Supported Agriculture). Weekly, from the late Spring until now, we have received a variety of organic vegetables and fruit. It was kind of a forced plan of buy now and eat later type of thing. Since we bought it, we would have to eat it...thus being healthier in our diet. Sadly, we sometimes could not keep up with the cornucopia and had to toss the food. One thing that did not go to waste? The beets...Lina loves beets. It wasn't inexpensive....$ 500 for the season. Eating organically is not a money saver over the short-term, yet I have to think that the Franken-food that we now eat as a culture costs us more than we realize. Today, I heard the projections in the not to distant future 1 in 4 Americans will be diabetic. Odd how prosperity itself can wind up being a curse. It is good to pray before we eat. It is also a good idea to pray about what we eat.

Last night I had the blessed opportunity to see Mike Roe from the 77's play at my home church. What a joy. Once, I drove down to Lexington, Kentucky, to a festival to see the 77's play during the Sticks and Stones tour over a weekend and that wound up being ill-fated on several fronts. Last night, the travel was considerably less tragic. Roe ruefully recounted how his name could be used in conjunction with a boat. So, he decided to strike back by doing a song called "Boat Ashore." Love this lyric: Crash me, wash me up on your shore Drifted way too far from my moorings and more Overboard the oars went Relentless was the roll Of the restless sea set me free from its treacherous shoals What was so sweet about the show is that he played really primal stuff from the 77's early work. As a new Christian in college, I found most Christian music totally goofy. I still remember playing the 77's album All Fall Down in my dorm room and digging it. Very few Christian b

Mark Driscoll recently preached a sermon on Mary and Martha. Lina really got a lot out of it. My wife is an uber-Martha but she is trying to stopping being so Type A A (the second A stands for Asian, a culture that is dominant in Type A personalities). I am selectively Type A like at work, studies, or when I am brewing beer. Otherwise, I am pretty chill. So, my wife has instituted "Mary Time" every night to sit at the feet of Jesus. We are sort of in a transition with this as it does not come easy for my wife to not be task-oriented and in a doing-mode. Mary Time basically means taking time to read the Bible, journal, pray, and listen to sermons. I do mine early in the morning, Lina does hers later in the night. That's cool. But I can tell it is a struggle for Lina as I walked by her the other night during Mary Time and she was clipping coupons from Costco and then leafed through the Sierra Nevada Trading Post looking for boots. I just had to say something, "Good de

We had an interesting discussion at Small Group Thursday night where we got on the topic of why many Christian young adults go astray after leaving the house. The prodigal is a pervasive pattern as to almost be the norm. As the one who works with teens, I was asked why I thought this was so common. Here is my take even though I haven't really researched it quantitatively and qualitatively officially but I have a lot of anecdotal evidence. I think these kids take God and grace for granted. Like it is a given. All us to this to one degree or another but it is truly a tragedy when a Christian teen decides to do a dirty dance with the devil. The naiveté is downright bizarre and awful. It is like watching a moth fly into the flame, as fast as possible. I work with a lot of non-Christian kids and many of them have been on the receiving end of sin's consequences, often through no fault of their own (besides being sinners in general, like all of humanity). One thing they really don&#

Yesterday, both of the other counselors were out in the morning. I had to cover the counseling bases until they returned. A student came down from class...she was not one of mine (last name A-G is me). I listened to her sad story which cannot tell. But, it was sorrowful. She cried and it made me write this in my journal a few moments ago: Tears fall like heavy bombs onto my soul Blasting and burning a deep hole Her tears were hard and heavy, from years of estrangement. God has an infinite bottle for the tears we cry.