Senior Adventure

We just got on the bus for a 30 hour plunge. The kids have no idea where we are going. We have them pack light and bring extra so that the list does not give them too many clues. They do speculate. This year they had to bring 100 yards of yarn leading to wild speculations.

It really is a faith journey. It’s supposed to be an adventure. God calls you out of your ordinary world. He asks you to leave what is familiar and trust him. These 9 kids jumped on the bus ready to go. They are eager to find out what is next. Wouldn’t it be better if we all approached challenges this way. Instead, we resist God. We complain and ask for the ordinary.

God also asks us to take the journey together. We pile a group of people in a bus and form community. We need each other and we design the trip to foster dependence. God does the same. He called Abraham with Tera, he called Moses to go with his people, he called Ezra to bring his people back, he called the disciples to go out by twos, he called Paul and Barnabas

it is easy to disconnect from the faith community, but it is deadly. We plan the trip to remind them of this truth. I always want them to say,”remember when WE . . . ” if you look back on what moved your faith forward most people will see a group experience.

Finally, we bring them back home. It’s. It a permanent escape, but a refreshing plunge. Life can’t be lived always at this pace or with this intensity. It can always be lived with depth, faith and adventure.

God invites you to an adventure.

It’s a zoo out there.

Last weeks I got to go to the zoo with the kids choir heroes. This group of kids were involved all year. They bumped their musical up 6 weeks so they could do it before Rachel left and did a great job. The trip is a great “thank you” to them and their parents.

I also flat love the zoo. When we arrived it was nearing feeding time for the penguins. That is a riot -a whole cocktail party standing around eating fish and making small talk. They are polite and patient. After driving in traffic it was almost inspiring.

Then we looped around to the reptile house. Feeding time! One snake was curled up with a mouse until it became just a lump in the throat. In another cage the drama played out with the snake turning its nose up at the offered food-boring.

Our next stop was the bird feeding aviary. You get a popsicle stick covered with bird seed and a chance to lure a parakeet to eat. They are shy and overfed. Eventually all the kids got one to eat. Most got a bird to stand on their stick. A few got a cockatoo, bigger and more aloof, there are only a few in the area.

Then all of us lined up to order a snow cone. I was in the coconut group-blue, cold and refreshing. I love watching a group of kids sitting around cutting up with bright red, purple, and blue lips.

Then we were off to East Africa – lions, elephants, giraffes, rhinos, and more. Then we stumbled around the corner and found a playground. The kids attacked the sand and equipment. It was a party. It was all smiles and laughter.

Then it was back on the bus and headed for home-a perfect day.

What I learned at the zoo. Share. Wait your turn. Don’t be so picky. God delights in the birds and more so in you. Eat more snow cones. Love all types. Play with gusto. Nap hard.

Have a great day,

What, my lane?

Go Explore

Last Saturday was glorious. I woke up and step outside. It was cool. I had a sudden urge to get outside and stay there for awhile. I new it might be the last great Saturday before the punishing days of summer arrive.

If we stayed out the house we would be obligated to do chores, so a road trip was declared.

I got on the internet looking for things we have never done in the area. I found two. We headed first to the Jacksonville area to see Love’s lookout for a picnic. After that we were headed to Camp Ford (he largest Confederate Prisoner of War Camp west of the Mississippi River) which is just north of Tyler.

We decided to take a test run with the dogs. It had been in the back of our minds to take them on vacation this year, so this would be an experiment.

We headed down 175 and were driving without urgency, just absorbing the beauty. Then we saw a sign for a historical marker. I made the snap decision,  “Let’s stop and read every historical marker we come to today.”

We pulled to the side of the road and read about the “Old Neches Saline Road.” Then we saw the sign to the “Killough Monument.” We had to follow the sign according to the rules.

Six miles down a county road we had not found a monument but we did hear banjo music, so we turned around and drove back to 175. Bear, my dog, threw up in the back seat. Shadow, Lance’s dog, lost her mind barking. Bear,  did it again. He was miserable.

We got back on the highway which seemed better. We got our lunches headed to the lookout and enjoyed seeing a vast valley we did not know existed. We headed to the north when we saw another sign to the “Killough Monument.” After five miles we turned around. This time we followed a glimmer on my map to a cemetery in the area. Then just a little further after three more turns down more abandoned looking roads we pulled up to the monument.

It recorded the last and largest Indian massacre in East Texas. I read the story online. It had been a while since anyone had been to the place.

We retraced our steps and then stopped in Tyler. Deciding to skip Camp Ford and get the dogs back to firm ground. They have been disinvited to vacation.

I love to explore, to see new things to try new things. It makes me wonder how much of the life of following Jesus each of us has tried. How many times have we ignored the signs and traveled only the worn paths.

It’s a great day to find God in an unexpected place . . .

In or out?

She does not look as devious as she is. He back end wobbles, her eyes smile, she seems genuinely attentive, but deep, under the cover of her fur churns an ingenious mind.

Last week we drove into the driveway and she, Shadow, came prancing down the driveway. Bear was loosing his mind barking. The little one seemed pleased.

Cindy and I scoured the fence line looking for low places and loose boards. I added wood, nails, logs, and a host of other objects trying to create an impenetrable wall. Two days later, she was out again. There she was standing in the driveway as we got home. More tinkering, more searching and more barriers.

The next day I was working in the garage when the little nipper nipped my heals. I had just put her in the backyard, so I knew we needed to try a radically different approach. I secured the dog and headed to Wal Mart. I bought more fencing materials and was committed to start the process over again.

We stood outside the fence begging Shadow to come to us. If she would just show us how she was getting out, then I could seal the crack in the armor. The dog just barked. After half an hour I grew suspicious. I went to the opposite side of the yard. I called to the dog and like magic she appeared. I could not tell from where, but now I knew her appearance in the driveway was a rouse to throw us off the real opening.

In the backyard I searched until finding the loose board behind the shed hidden by a piece of wood on one side and a holy bush on the other. We have managed to keep her in the back for the past four days. The supplies are sitting on the tale ready to be returned to Wal-Mart, but I didn’t want to be hasty.

What do the fences and boundaries of our lives mean? To me the fence protects Shadow. I’m so worried she will get run over by a car, get lost, or get into a fight with an animal that can really hurt her. It represents home, love, and security.

Shadow sees the fence as something to get around, to get past, to escape. She is a lot like us. We see God’s ways and see restrictions. God see love.

Embrace God’s truths it is the best way to be where God wants you to thrive,

Headed Home

I totally didn’t expect to see a beaver at the Cain Center Lake, but there it was. The size of a dog, because that is what I thought it was, two different days I saw it on the East side of the main lake.

The first time I saw it I was sure it was a dog, but it moved funny and as I approached it waddled into the water. The second time I walked in a stealthy manner and got within 20 feet of it before it noticed me. Then it acted shocked, hurt and annoyed as it flung itself into the water. Submerged, all I could see was the continuous line of popping bubbles revealing its trajectory toward the center of the pond.

I have been on hikes in Rocky Mountain Park trying to see beaver. I have worked at it. I have seen glimpses of beaver before, but nothing like this. I watched for minutes.

I have the fear that his bad eyesight will let a person with an urge to destroy get too close and it will be my last sighting.

Lewis and Clark saw beaver all the time. They were active during the day and paid no attention to the travelers. The trappers found out about the abundance and hunted them to the point that they were extremely rare. Only now are they beginning to return to areas where they were once common.

After over 200 years one showed up in New York City in 2008. In 2009 a beaver lodge appeared in downtown Chicago.

The Chicago parks department was not happy about the beavers and so tried to trap them alive, which failed, and relocate them. $20,000 later the mother beaver was dead the rest of the family relocated. By 2010 a new lodge appeared in the same area.

I love that the wilderness starts right outside my door. I love it that it is fighting to return.

Life is more of a fight than we want to admit, but it is worth the fight.

Some of you need to fight for a better life, free from the destructive drains that rob you of strength. Some of you need to yearn for a world where life is simpler. God wants to help restore you to a better habitat, its called his home.

Headed home,

Angry Birds

I got recreated into helping set up for DNow. It was not hard, I love our students and was excited to help. It was, in fact, easy to get me to say. ‘Yes.” because I was asked to join an elite task force to prepare for the group game on Saturday.

I’ve been part of some lame group games in the past, so I’m super committed to high quality, engaging, outrageous games. Our goal is that kids never forget a DNow weekend.

Chris asked me to help him build a giant angry bird game. If you don’t know, Angry Birds is a computer game, but we wanted to turn it into a real game. We had to design birds (see the red ball above) and a launching sling shot. I thought it would be a breeze, but launching a five pound bird through the air is more difficult than I could have imagined.  We went through four different life sixed sling shots.

It felt like the Mythbusters. We set up experiment after experiment. We tested different bungee cords, different baskets, different heights, different tensions. We pulled hard, we pulled soft, we sat down in despair. We scratched our heads. We researched on the internet. We consulted. We wanted to best possible launcher.

By Friday we had a magnificent machine that could toppled cardboard walls with gusto.

It is easy to start. Lots of people can start something. Lots of people get excited for a moment. It is hard to finish. Most people quit when it gets tough. They loose interest. They get frustrated.

This is why so many people start with God, but don’t make it as a life-time, full-time follower of Jesus. Its really hard.

I’ve watched so many people go to DNow, go to camp, get rejuvenated during a special emphasis and see there commitment rise like a rocket only to see them fall back into obscurity just as quickly.

All them time I was helping to make the game I was praying that the temporary excitement will turn into long term passion.

Will you pray with me for the youth who made life altering decisions this weekend.

Keep them flying,

Stop Complaining

I am a terrible mind reader. I have tried to get better, but I’m a total failure. The new dogs living in my house have confirmed my utter lack of understanding. I have no idea how to make them happy. At random times, for unknown reasons the seem to indicate a general dissatisfaction for my behavior. There peanut sized reasoning centers have concluded that I am the problem.

I’m either too slow and doing what they want or too fast at doing what I want. They jump at the door before its opened and pull on the leash to go a different direction. In the middle of the night they wake me up to pick a bone with me. I ask them to play catch with me and they ignore the offered item while at other times I’m busy and they bring me stuff they have found.

If we are inside they stand by the door to go outside. If we go outside they sit by the door to go inside. I want to pet them, they want to lick me. I want to sit down and rest, they want to go outside and drag me around the street.

We were driving home from Waco last Saturday and saw several beautiful fields of bluebonnets. Since we don’t have kids to take pictures of the dog would suffice. Usually, the dog wants out of her crate when we are in the car, but last week she couldn’t be pleased.  It took forever to get a picture of her being happy in the flowers.

I try to tell them how good they have it, to stop complaining so much, but they are not convinced.

About midway through last week I realized I’m the one being trained by these dogs and not the other way around and I’m have a great time. As crazy as my life is, it has been a total new diversion and lots of fun. The dogs know just how to get me to give them food,. They have me trained to open and close the door for them. They have me cleaning up messes that I swore off when the boys got out of diapers.

None of that is a complaint, it’s a celebration. I’ve never had a good dog experience. I grew up with a dog fiercely loyal to my mother and aloof from me. The neighbors German Shepherd almost bit my fingers off when I was about three. When we came to Athens we had a dog so hyperactive that she made going into our backyard feeling like standing on the track of the Indy 500. Now, I’m having a great time with my dogs. Life can be seen two ways:
One day an old man was rocking on his porch when a moving van drove up. The driver asked, “What kind of people live in this town?”

“Well,” the old man replied, “What kind of people live where you came from?” The driver responded, “They were the meanest, most unfriendly people you’ve ever heard of!” The old man sighed, “Drive on, because the same kind of people live here.”

The next day another moving van drove by and the driver asked the same question, “What kind of people live in this town?” “Well,” the old man asked, “What kind of people live where you came from?” The driver responded, “They were the kindest, friendliest people you’ve ever seen!” The old man smiled, “You’ll love it here, because the same kind of people live here too!”

Stop complaining and enjoy the flowers,

Whose home?

We have had some recent trouble with panhandlers around the building.* I was called recently about a problem person and ran out of the attic to ask them to leave the Treehouse parents alone, but they were gone by the time I got outside.

This morning, I saw a man lurking around the dumpster. He was disheveled and looked suspicious. I sat in my car watching as he went down the stairs near the slide entrance of the building. The car slid silently forward as I peered over the chain link fence.

He went straight for the door. It is supposed to be locked, so I held my breath that it was. About two feet from the door, he went down on one knee. I thought at first he was tying his shoe, which is very suspicious, because in all the spy movies, it is what someone does to not look suspicious.

I saw him begin to rummage in the hedge right beside the door. I thought, “Rock!” There has been a huge rock over there for years. I’m thinking, “He is going to break the glass on that door.” I decide I need to park and go stop the guy when he shifts his weight and I can see what he is doing. He is picking up trash. Then, for good measure, he stays down and pulls up a couple of ugly weeds.

My car slid into the street and I headed to the hospital. I’ve been scratching my head about it all day. The huge group of people who are “on the take” can make a person cynical. Every so often, we find someone for whom the help seems to make a difference, and on a rare occasion, we are visited by angels unaware.

Dear God, help us be wise in the way we help, firm with those abusing the system, while maintaining a tender heart.

Kyle

*We discourage you giving cash to panhandlers. Most are professional at this game and work off of your sympathies. Please send them to the church office. Our staff is trained to help them and ensure that we are actually helping people. We have funds to feed people, house them, and help them with gas money. We use a voucher system that keeps the money from being diverted.  We work with the HELP center to connect people to other services. Handouts are rarely a good thing. If someone needs help, it would be better to ask them to meet you at Subway or Benson’s and pay for their meal, or meet at a gas station and put gas directly in their car. Please do not give anyone money around the buildings. It builds a hostile culture where the panhandler expects it from others.