Haste, haste

Haste: overly eager speed; a condition of urgency making it necessary to hurry.

My life, probably like many of yours over the month of December, has been a blur of hurry:

• I wake up and hurry to shower and eat breakfast, so I can hurry up and get my girls ready, so we can hurry out of the house to get to the babysitters and work on time.
• I get to school and hurry to get my plans ready for class so that I can hurry up and focus on checking the massive load of papers that need checked before the end of the semester.
• I hurry out of my room at lunch because I know I have a 5 minute walk to and from the cafeteria, giving me 20 minutes total to eat lunch and probably start another pot of coffee for the afternoon.
• I hurry out of my room at the end of the day so that I can get to practice on time, which is a rush now that our school day is longer.
• I hurry home after practice so that I can hopefully see my girls before I go to bed. I often hurry through my supper with the knowledge that both of them need something immediately.
• At night I try to hurry up and get to sleep (which never works), because I know I'm behind on sleep. This is especially true on nights with away games, when I don't get to bed until about 1, desperate to get a couple of hours of sleep before I must wake up and rush to professional development.
• On weekends I rush to get as much done productively as possible once my girls begin napping, because I know it's the only real chance I'll get.

At church at least, I can't hurry. That's often hard because there are times when I sit there and think about everything that needs to get done. Then I rush home to get started on it all.

This morning in church I got all this hurry thrown right back in my face. 'Tis the season for Christmas carols, and one of the songs we sang this morning was "What Child is This?" One refrain that gets repeated in the song is this: "Haste, haste to bring Him laud." That one got me. My entire month has been full of haste, as chronicled above. But I have not been full of haste to bring Christ laud (praise or glory).

Of all activities, events, or tasks worthy of haste, there is none that matches this one. It is this haste that will bring the most satisfaction in a life too hurried to be satisfied with anything.

Risk Equals Reward

I've been extremely pleased with the way the first 3 weeks of the basketball season have gone for our team. I really couldn't ask for more from the team - kids are working hard, this group seems to genuinely enjoy being around each other, and we got an opening night win that involved a lot of hustle, even when the outcome was far from in doubt. I felt really good about it. It was easy to feel good about. It's the best I've felt about basketball in a while.

The end of this week is the first I've really faced disappointment in the new season. We won on Saturday night, but I'd say we played far below our potential. Winning is a dumb thing to be disappointed about; but as a coach, you never want to lose the momentum of playing at your potential. After the game and on the bus ride home, I got a little moody. Quiet. A couple of things hadn't gone perfectly from a coaching perspective at the end of the week, including the Saturday evening performance. I was a little down, and I recognized the feeling.

The feeling I recognized was having something on the line again, and I haven't had as much on the line coaching-wise since the last time I was a head coach. It feels good. Don't get me wrong - I believe I did a good job and brought enthusiasm to my work as the freshman coach. However, I had less control over what was going on, which translated into having less on the line. The highs were never as high, and the lows were never as low.

It all comes back to a phrase that I love teaching my students as it shows itself in literature: risk equals reward. In every aspect of your life, you're either in a high risk or low risk setting. If you risk a lot of time, energy, passion, etc. into something, the rewards can be huge. However, so will the disappointment when it doesn't work out. You can avoid that risk, but you also avoid the chance for the big reward. Anything that doesn't cost you a great deal of risk will not produce an intense reward. This is true of hobbies, relationships, jobs, and even faith.

When thinking about it this morning, I came to the conclusion that I'm lucky to have the opportunity to feel down every once in a while. It means I've got a lot at risk. It means I'm passionate about what I'm doing and that I care a great deal about teaching 18 young men success skills that will extend to the rest of their lives. It means something is on the line again, and I have something to be nervous about. Trust me, life is a lot better when there's something to be nervous about. That means there's something great out there to gain.

It's like this with people, too, especially families. Family members can cause a lot of hurt, worry, or disappointment, both unintentionally and intentionally. I know that since I've had my two girls (or actually since we started to try to have kids), it's like I'm walking around with my heart hanging outside of my body, constantly exposed to the risk of something going wrong. But as much as I hate to worry, I'm realizing that worry is good. It means I've got something great, something at risk. I'd much rather have something to worry about than a carefree lifestyle empty of loved ones.

Losing will happen this basketball season. The season will not go perfectly. More than likely, something will go wrong in a relationship that's important to me as well. Burdens will be carried. But how lucky am I to have something to lose.

It is for this reason that the old hymn lyrics can ring so true:

Whatever my lot, thou has taught me to say,

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

This Season

The basketball season has begun. Every season has it's own personality, it's own existence, so to speak. This one feels different all together, as it feels very much like I'm on borrowed time.

When last season ended, I believed that I was done as a basketball coach. For reasons that I don't need to get specific about, I was ready to walk away from an activity that I loved. The cost had become too great, the reward too little. I wasn't ready to be done coaching, but I had made my peace with it. I ended the season, gave myself a month to think about it, then told my wife that unless something drastic changed, I was going to walk away.

Something drastic did change, so here I am, starting another season. I'm excited. I'm passionate. And after one week of practice, I'm having more fun that I've had in years. I also understand that my personal approach to this season must be fundamentally different than it ever has before.

For the 1st eight years of my coaching career, I put everything on hold until the season ended. Mostly, I gave myself an excuse to get myself out of physical, mental, and spiritual shape. I told myself that I would work out once the season ended and I had more time and energy. I would read books or catch up on homework once March came around. And I would swear to remember who God was and how I fit into an eternal worldview when I could just get basketball out of the way.

In the back of my mind, I can believe that part of the reason the mess at Nora Springs occurred which took me away from head coaching for a time was because I was holding so tightly to the job. I would say that I could lose all yet have Christ and all would be fine; however, I couldn't imagine my life without leading a basketball program every winter. My identity was wrapped up in being the head coach at Sutherland or at NS-RF. Without that, I felt like less. And I felt like if I lost that, I would have less in life. Unfortunately, I had a much tighter grip on this identity than I did on my own spiritual well-being.

Then I wasn't a head coach any more. That was a major blow to my identity for a while, but I adjusted. I was fine. The world didn't stop, nor did my life. I continued to coach; but as I indicated above, the cost of coaching became greater, the reward smaller. Last spring I thought I had finally learned my lesson - I learned to hold loosely to that part of my identity and realized that I could walk away.

Then the situation changed in a quite favorable way - a way that would allow me to use my skills and passions more effectively and work closely with people I enjoy a great deal. The reward was great again. So I'm back.

I feel like God is telling me, "Dykstra, you can do this. Go ahead if you want. You learned your lesson. But if you worship this again, it's your loss. It's your wasted winter. It's your loss of the exponential joy of focusing on Me for the cheap substitute of a much lesser joy. Go do this, but understand that your joy hangs in the balance."

Whether or not those are God's exact words, they are true. My joy does hang in the balance. I can have it all this winter - feeding my God-given passion for coaching basketball and experiencing exponential, eternally-driven joy in the process. But that can only occur if I see God while coaching, if I seek to bring Him glory and improve His reputation and build up the people I have influence over. Basically, I must stay in spiritual shape this winter in order to have it all. I can do this thing I am passionate about, but only if this passion springs from my passion for a God-centered life.

I want to do this job for many, many years to come. For that to be worth it (for my family, for myself, and for the players and coaches I'm around), this winter must be different.

Those with whom I disagree

A recent editorial in the Des Moines Register prompted an essay assignment in my Composition class. It may involve one of the most important skills I can teach my students.

The editorial was bemoaning the current state of the nation and the fact that we have we have become a collection of homogenous communities. More and more, Americans tend to socialize, live, and talk with like-minded people with similar backgrounds, experiences, and even appearances. Unfortunately, the editorial even pointed out that a church growth strategy taught in some seminaries is based on attracting a certain "kind of people" in the church. The writer also wrote that studies have shown that the longer individuals are around others with whom they agree, the more radical they become in their views. Most Americans ignore "other" kinds of people with whom they disagree. It's just easier. And it's convenient when seeking to demonize individuals if you don't know them personally.

I had noticed in my Composition course sections, as we discussed controversial current events, that students struggled to disagree with their peers without getting personal, offensive, and incapable of reasonable dialogue. I don't write this to belittle my students; I notice many of the same behaviors in adults, even though I quit watching Fox News and MSNBC past 7 pm several years ago.

The assignment I created asked students to take a position on 21 controversial topics of varying degrees of severity. They then were charged with choosing three of those issues, finding at least two people per issue who disagree with them, and writing down why their "opponents" held those beliefs. Now they must write a persuasive essay using these arguments with which they disagree. If common sense and a desire to treat humanity with respect couldn't motivate them to listen respectfully to other students, perhaps their grade will.

I've watched these students over the past couple of days interview each other. It has forced them out of their comfort zone, especially in that they have had to speak with individuals who are not "like them" in terms of the unwritten social hierarchy of high school life. I don't think anyone's mind has been changed regarding specific issues, but that's a good thing. These kids should be strong in their beliefs. What they have done is have conversations, and most of them have learned that reasonable people can disagree. Honestly, it's been one of the most pleasant classroom environments I've been in for a long time.

Christians, I fear, don't do enough of this, especially interdenominationally. An old joke at our house growing up when we looked out at the cattle on our farm and saw half on one side of the pasture and half on the other is that one half were the Christian Reformed cattle, the other the First Reformed. Though there is usually respect amongst individuals from differing congregations and denominations in a "I guess we're in this battle with the world together," sort of way, rarely do the average members ask each other why differences in matters of doctrine exist. I fear one reason is because many simply don't know.

We also don't do enough of this with members of other faiths and with atheists. In fact, there's rarely much mutual respect at all. "They" are simply to be looked down upon, perhaps pitied, or more likely, condemned. This is, at best, a flawed path; at worst, it is a path that is losing souls.

Without rational dialogue, we lose the chance to influence others. We lose the chance to be Christ. We also lose the chance to better understand this world, a world we are charged to live effectively in, even if we are not to become "of" the world.

The number one commandment is to love God with all our heart, and the second is to love our neighbor as ourself. I don't think we'll ever really know the strength of our faith until we believe the term "neighbor" includes even those who don't look, think, and act like us.

I Want to be Misunderstood

I think I might have a new goal. As if I needed anything else on my plate right now.

An old Sunday School song from my youth claims that "I've got the peace that passeth understanding down in my heart." It's origin is from Philippians 4:7, which offers "the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Jesus Christ." I've heard or sung that song a million times without ever really thinking about what those words mean. For whatever reason, this weekend I thought about it.

I currently have a peace that people can understand, which is to say that I am calm and at peace when my life situation is calm and at peace. I'm in complete control of my emotions and attitude, except when I've been wronged. People love to hear from others the comforting statement, "I can understand why you're upset," or "I've been there; I know how you feel." Then we get to feel justified for complaining about our jobs or worrying about our money or engaging in hateful speech. This peace is not beyond any understanding - it's completely reasonable to be peaceful when all about me is peaceful.

I want more. I want peace in the storm. I want a peace that no one can understand, that people can do nothing with but shake their head and try to figure out the source of my calm, cool, calculated behavior. I don't want to hold on to hate when my employer cheats me out of money, or hold on to frustration when I can't get 15 consecutive minutes in a Saturday morning without a child crying, or hold on to fear when I hear my six-month old has a rare disease that none of the local doctors have ever treated before. In all of these situations in the past month, I've had peace and reactions that everyone can understand and/or sympathize with. I want more.

I'm not saying that there's never a time to fight. There are plenty of causes worth fighting for. But one can fight with peace. A peaceful fighter, focused on the purpose of the fight instead of the knee-jerk reaction, is probably even a better, wiser fighter. And that fighter is someone that people will follow because they simply can't understand where such a peace comes from, and they follow just to get a taste of it.

This peace does not just happen. I know that I can't just decide that tomorrow I will exhibit this peace and magically it will appear. A peace that passeth understanding is a supernatural peace, a peace obtained from God. In Philippians Paul writes that it comes from two things:
- through prayer, with thanksgiving, make your requests know to God
- whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things.

I've written before on this blog about defining success. After pondering this, I realize I want more. I want to surpass understanding. When that happens, perhaps more people (including myself) will see God in the daily grind.

More School is not Better Education

Lately, President Obama and others have been in the news calling for a longer school year. The logic goes that kids lose knowledge over the summer; and if we just cut out that summer break, they would learn more, retain more, and compete more effectively with students from around the world.

I have a problem with this.

My first thought (unfortunately but obviously) was to reject this idea because as a teacher, I would lose my two months of freedom. It's one of the reasons I teach. Don't get me wrong, I love teaching; but I would love it a lot less if I suddenly lost the freedom to do whatever I pleased for two months every year. Selfish, yes; but we choose our careers based on what we think will make us happy, and this makes me happy.

The more I thought about it, though, the more offended I got about the idea for more than selfish reasons. If you think about it, the government is basically saying that they know better how to raise my children over the summer than I do. They want to require my children to spend even more time being influenced by curriculum they choose and less time being influenced by me.

That's pretty arrogant for the government to say. Will my daughters really have a much better life because they did a few more math problems over the summer? Because they read another novel, wrote another paper, did another lab project? Maybe they would, but I'd like to have that choice. I'd like to choose whether to have them do math or take a walk in the woods with me. I, their parent, want to decide if they should spend their time reading or working a job or playing basketball or throwing rocks in the river, just to see them splash. I should get to decide that.

I learned a lot in the summers of my youth. I learned a lot from shoveling manure in the July heat, from lifting weights and playing in basketball leagues, from mowing yards, from dating, and from walking in the shadows of my father and grandfather. I'm not sure what educational standard or objective those events fall under, but I do know my life would be vastly different without those experiences.

If the government is so worried about this learning gap in low-income kids who can't afford "educational" opportunities during the summer, then subsidize summer programs and make them affordable. Provide them as an option.

But to mandate more schooling, more government control over the childhood of my daughters, that's the same as saying that President Obama and Arne Duncan and a lot of other flawed, elected officials know what's best for my kid, and I don't.

This may not be a faith issue, but it certainly is a moral one. And my moral duty as a parent is to want more for my kids' youth than trigonometry and book reports.

Size Matters

I used a word the other night that I have no business using. In a discussion with my wife about some people who are important to us, I described their situation as "hopeless." The use of that one word alone was as big a sign as any of a disconnect with God.

How big is my faith? In this case my faith, or my picture of God, was quite small. To use the word "hopeless" is to imply that this problem is too big for God, that not even the Sovereign Being of the universe can change that circumstance. Oh ye of little faith. . .

The size of prayer matters, and I've decided that I must go big. I simply don't pray big enough, and that could be a sign of not believing big enough. Do I believe God is limited? Do I believe that God is only capable of actions that I can fathom, or that I can see myself or others accomplishing on their own? My use of the term "hopeless" would imply that to be true.

Last night I began to pray big. I prayed for many "hopeless" circumstances and relationships and souls. I prayed for them, and I believed God capable of them. God will choose whether or not to give me what I've asked. I'm not so naive that I see God as my own personal Santa Claus who will perform miracles for my individual comfort and entertainment. Realistically, I don't believe that all of the "big" things I've requested will happen in my lifetime. But that's has more to do with my lack of faith in my own limited knowledge of what's good, and less to do with the power I attribute to God.

If God is big, I don't have to worry about relying on my own shortcomings (or those of others). If God isn't, what am I doing worshipping him?

Actions reflect beliefs. Prayer is an action. And in this case, size says it all.

The Withdrawal Affects of Average

This is my first blog post in my new office, and it feels good to get writing again. This new basement office is the source of my recent blog writing hiatus, as most of my spare moments over the past months have been spent creating the office and moving in. All personal actions have been pushed to the side. The work is done, the Panther memorabilia is up, and I'm ready to feel right again.

The danger in writing a blog about my faith is that I unsparingly lay it out there for all to see. What's on my heart or mind is laid out on the page (or screen, in this case). When there's nothing on my heart or mind, there's nothing here on the blog. My month of inactivity displays to the world exactly what's been going on inside of me lately: no studying, no real deep-thinking, and realistically very little prayer. Basically, no God. I may not have had time to write, but I also had very little to write about. Though I performed my daily tasks of working and fathering, I accomplished little else. While God was certainly present in spirit, he certainly wasn't a priority in action.

I don't say that with a ton of guilt or self-loathing. It is what it is. I say it because it's true, and because I notice the difference.

I recently had a conversation with a friend about addiction and its affects on people when they remove the addictive device. When most people think about addiction, it carries a negative connotation of something that an individual wants to quit. In my case, though, I've realized that I'm addicted to something positive. That something is God.

I noticed the tie-in because by the end of last week, I completely recognized the "withdrawal" symptoms in me. The crankiness that would accompany a tobacco addict's attempt to quit made itself prevalent in me. When I was wronged, I complained to whoever would listen. I became irritable quickly. I held on to grudges and wrongs. I saw flaws instead of potential everywhere I looked. And I couldn't really focus on anything.

My mind ached for it's addiction. I was worse off without my "drug." Don't get me wrong - I could function. I could be effective at my job and my home life. I could even laugh. Life was average. But I wasn't the same. I wasn't as effective. And I certainly wasn't as happy. As if I needed another reminder, life is better with God.

As I was rifling through all I had collected over the past 10 years in my old office, I found some interesting items. I came across old notes, letters, and items of nostalgia from a range of relationships over the years. The past is important, and I had almost forgot what I was like "back then" and what some of the people important to me were like as well. Frankly, I was surprised to see the number of references to God, especially from individuals who now seem to have dropped God from their vocabulary and from their priority list. Like me recently, I think God is present, though not a priority for them now. Maybe I'm looking at this with rose-colored glasses and only seeing what I want to see, but it seems like these individuals I've mentioned here were so much happier with God. They seemed to walk through life with a much clearer purpose, with much more optimism, and with much more amibition. I still love these people as much or more than I did years ago. But I see this comparison between them then and them now, and I'm a little sad. And maybe I see myself then compared to my "wandering" self now, and I don't like that comparison so much either.

Elise and I went to church this morning, and though communion was interrupted prematurely for me due to her bladder, I walked away with a renewed sense of urgency to feed my addiction. I don't want average any longer.

Public Faith?

I read an opinion piece from Kathleen Parker of the Washington Post this weekend talking about the need for more unity in the nation as opposed to the constant polarizing messages doing battle (Ground Zero mosque, Glen Beck vs. Al Sharpton, immigration law, etc.). For the most part, I liked what she had to say. Her main point is that in the absence of leadership (and we are sorely lacking that from all groups currently), individuals should seek to retain the truly American ideas that create our national character.

Her list:
Be considerate
Tend your garden
Mind your own business
Lend a hand
Keep your clothes on and your hands to yourself
Honor your family and your country
Don't air your dirty laundry or vocabulary in public

Sounds good to me, if she had stopped there. But she added one more: "For God's sake, don't talk about religion." This, to me, would be a grave error.

First, I have learned more about my own faith and that of others from having reasonable discussions with people who disagree with me. Their faith (or lack thereof) is an important part of who they are, and to be ignorant of that is to be ignorant of their priorities. It's difficult to be a responsible citizen through ignorance.

Secondly, to be unwilling to talk about my religion would cheapen my faith. If my actions don't speak of my faith, my faith is small. If my faith is right, then everything I do must be saturated with the idea of glorifying God and enjoying him. If I don't believe my faith is right, I have no faith. To not talk about religion is to be lukewarm, non-commital, or even casual about it. I'm not casual about my love for all things UNI Panthers. I'm not casual about the Phillies. I'm not casual about my love affair with Nutty Bars and Kwik Star gas stations and Costa Rican coffee. I talk about these things. Nobody asks me not to, just because they may prefer Casey's or Starbucks. If I speak more about these, and my actions exhibit more about these trivialities, than I do about my faith, it is a weak faith indeed.

No, we must not be quiet about faith. We must have discussions and questions and hopefully even arguments. I read the other day that the real definition of love isn't making much of someone, but of giving them what they need. I believe the ones I love need God as much as I do. To not be ready to explain where my hope comes from is to avoid love out of the risk of feeling akward. I would expect them to share with me what they believe I need to hear. I must be ready to do the same.

The President's Religion

I've been agitated a bit lately by the news.

A recent poll taken states that approximately 1/5 of Americans surveyed believe that Barak Obama is a Muslim instead of the Christian that he professes to be. These poll numbers have been reported and re-reported over the past few weeks, especially in light of the proposed Ground Zero mosque.

I'm a little disappointed that this is news. Millions of tragic, news-worthy events are occurring all over the world right now. I read this week about a village in which 200 women were raped and beaten in front of their own husbands and children by a rebel military group. There's a war going on in Afghanistan that few people in America have any idea about. Towns and communities ravaged by natural disaster are still attempting to recover. Anybody remember Haiti? How are they doing? Or Pakistan? How many Americans are aware of the trapped Chilean miners?

The public forgets what is not right in front of their noses (whether that be a newspaper or a facebook post). The media plays a large role in that. So why are we reading about the President's religion and whether or not he can afford politically to support this proposed mosque at the cost of all of the real problems that could be addressed by the general public? Is this really what matters?

I also realize, however, that only what sells is news. This is news because people are buying it - they want to know. They want information on the president's faith. Or rumors, at least.

Five or six years ago I would have never written what I'm about to write: I no longer believe the President's religion should matter. At least not as much as it does. As a Christian, obviously I align my worldviews better with other Christians. However, if I'm really a Christian, I should realize that God has complete control over this country, not some president. So what if the President is an atheist. Or Mormon. Or Buddhist. Does that somehow render God powerless? The Old Testament is full of powerful nations and powerful kings, many of whom were quite heathen. Yet God used them. To worry about the fate of the country if a non-Christian is President is to cheapen the power of God. Frankly, I'm more worried about the one's paying lip-service to God to drive up votes.

The question lately has been this: is Obama a Christian. One answer - yes. A better answer - it doesn't matter.

Is big government bad?

I had an interesting political discussion with some family members recently.

I've learned enought over 30 years to know that it's best to keep one's strong opinions to one's self during political discussions amongst family members. Sharing ideas or offering observations is usually fine, but I've learned to not express strong political feelings with just about anybody if I want a peaceful day. This is easier now that I don't espouse any strong political feelings (other than a dejected demeanor towards both major parties).

Anyway, the discussion was on the economy and the government programs aimed at helping troubled individuals through tough times. None had good things to say about this. One family member, an employee of Wells Fargo, mentioned a government program that helped Wells Fargo renegotiate mortgages with people in danger of losing their home by cutting interest rates and lowering monthly payments. We also discussed welfare and unemployment payments. A great deal of frustration regarding these plans was uttered across the room: Why should those who bought too much house get a break, when those who made wiser choices and worked hard to pay their bills had to remain in their current mortgage? Why does our government continue to give welfare to people who purposefully avoid reaching a certain level of employment for fear of losing their welfare? Why do those who are out of work by choice and have quit looking for new jobs get to continue to receive unemployment checks, checks paid for out of the taxes from the salaries of the employed?

I can't say I blame them. It is frustrating, and the conservative in me has a big problem with these programs. The realist in me, though, realizes that if people lose their homes, my home is worth less. If unemployment and welfare benefits aren't given out, the economy worsens, and my retirement account and other investments goes further south. Bottom line - I can sympathize with both sides of this argument.

I realized something for the first time after this discussion, though. The government really shouldn't have to be doing this. This need shouldn't exist. Why? Because of churches.

Christ didn't dodge many issues, and he especially didn't dodge money. Two commands come to mind: tithe, and take care of the downtrodden. One command is to tithe (give 1/10 of one's income back to God through the church). I read recently that if every member of American churches obeyed this command, there would be more than enough to overcome poverty and hunger in America. Christ also commanded his followers to look after the hungry and poor and imprisoned. Some are doing this. However, the fact that our government spends as much as it does on benefits for the poor is evidence enough that not enough are. Frankly, the bigger government is, it's likely the smaller the contributions of Christians.

There's only one possible hiccup I see in this theory, though. Would non-Christians accept help from the church if it were their last option? I suspect they would. Perhaps in this Great Recession we are wasting a golden opportunity to display these commands to the world.

Playing First Base: Marty McFly

I had a Back to the Future moment this weekend in a church league softball tournament.

In the great film trilogy Back to the Future, the main character Marty McFly is fairly level-headed and is effective at making decisions and navigating his way through trouble. He does have one Achilles heel, however. If anyone accuses him of being "yellow," or "a chicken," no matter how stupid and foolish the other individual is, Marty feels the need to prove his manhood and courage at great risk to himself. This weakness of his causes him a great deal of trouble across the 3 films.

I mention this because I feel like I've figured out what my Marty McFly weakness is. If anyone questions my integrity, I usually get demonstrably angry. I remember when I was a junior in high school, a baseball coach of mine who I actually really respect questioned my integrity in terms of effort or heart on the diamond after a particularly rough inning. I then engaged in an extended shouting match with said coach, resulting in me getting taken out of the game. It was a proud moment for Mom, I know. I've had others question my integrity in various ways as a teacher or coach, and each time that has also gotten me worked up. Today I got worked up again.

For any player who is deemed injured in some way, this league permits a "pinch runner" to run for them. Anyway, I was standing on second base today and a female player from our team walked. We sent out a pinch runner, since she is pregnant and doesn't want to risk contact with any overzealous church softball all-stars living out their glory days. At this point I hear the shortstop mumble, "She can run. They got to cheat to win." I got pissed. Marty McFly pissed. I turned and looked at him and said, "What?!" He tried to ignore me. I demanded once again, "What?!" He then asked why she couldn't run, and I angrily let him know she was pregnant and that he should just shut up, play the game, and quit accusing us of cheating.

What's dumb is that this guy is most likely an idiot. I know this because we had played this team two nights before, and I my first thought then was that he is most likely an idiot. His actions during the tournament did nothing to change that assessment.

But now I'm the idiot. I got pissed off about what an idiot said or thought about either me or players on my team. I attempted to prove my manhood by scowling and making sharp comments. I bet I changed his mind. . .

Looking at the event in retrospect, part of me thinks that I did the right thing - I defended my team's honor. Reality, though, says that's horse crap. I let pride dictate my actions. Now this guy is probably blogging about how I'm most likely an idiot (albeit an idiot who smoked a homerun against his team and won by ten runs - take that, tough guy).

At the end of the 3rd and final Back to the Future film, Marty finally ignores a challenge of his courage by some idiots to show his growth. That decision saves his life. I wonder when the end of my 3rd movie will be.

Ignore the Extremes

The proposed mosque near Ground Zero (which is more of a cultural center than anything else) has created a big enough controversy in the news lately that I felt the need to make a very few comments.

1. I understand why emotion by those directly affected by 9/11 would drive them to not want this to be built at this site.

2. I don't believe there's a logical argument to stand on to keep it from being built.

I believe the attempted logical argument goes something like this: Some terrorists committed atrocious acts. Those terrorists claimed to be Muslims. Now Muslims want to build a center to celebrate Muslim ideas, the same extreme ideas that killed lots and lots of Americans. If this is built, Muslims win.

I don't care for this logic because the terrorists represent Islam in the same way the idiots who disrupt military funerals with signs that say "God hates fags!" and claim that our soldiers are dead because God is punishing our godless nation represent Christianity. These extremists do not represent me. Nor do the "Moral Majority" Republicans who quote the 2% of the Bible that will get them elected and ignore the rest. Nor do billions of other people just as flawed as I am. I am a Christian. I attempt to follow Christ the best way I know how. Extremists are not the voice of the faith - Christ is. If it were otherwise, "Christianity" would have a lot of answering to do still about Crusades and witchhunts and cross burnings.

Frankly, I could care less whether this thing gets built or not. I don't, as many liberals claim (at least the ones getting quoted, anyway), see the construction of this mosque/cultural center to be some sort of flag we can wave about how great and tolerant and free our country is. The fact that millions of immigrants are begging to get here is sign enough. Build it, don't build it; I don't really think it makes a big difference. What does make a difference, though, is if any of us want to make a habit of labeling groups based on extremists. That's simply a dangerous road to travel.

Jesus Loves the Little Children

So I figured out a few reasons recently why Christ makes such a big deal about needing to have the faith of a child.

1. During my graduate studies this summer, I read about why generally the older students get, the less they care about reading and curiosity about information and learning in general. It's simple, really. Writes Kylene Beers: "As students move through the grades, they come to value their peers more and more. 'They won't try,' we say. Instead, we fail to see that they are trying - they are just trying at what matters the most: keeping some form of respect with their peers."

This doesn't go away. Adults are even worse at this. It's the reason I work hard on my lawn and make improvements to my house. Those are great things to do; but ultimately, my motivation is the respect of my peers. I guarantee I spent more time on my lawn this summer than I did reading the Bible. The more I thought about this quote by Beers, the more I connected it with Christ's statement. He wants child-like faith - the kind of faith that is curious and passionate and joyful, the kind of thing that a child can't wait to tell the next person who walks through the door about. Not the kind that is worried about what his/her neighbor is thinking.

2. Recently my wife was at our table frustrated beyond belief at our checkbook and it's refusal to balance. Mad mad. Tears mad. Throwing the checkbook across the room mad. We've all been there. She isn't there often, but she was definitely there. If I'm honest, my immediate thought was, This is akward. What do I do now to help her stop crying so I feel less uncomfortable? It's what I think when I see anyone crying: I feel akward. I tried to speak reasonably to her and tried to convince her the checkbook simply wasn't that big of a deal. Basically, I tried to smooth things over so I wouldn't feel so akward and could eat my breakfast and drink my coffee without the burden of trying to figure out how to help her. Don't get me wrong, I didn't want her to feel bad. I just don't want to lie and pretend I also didn't want me to feel bad either.

My nearly 3 year old daughter is much wiser. Much more like what Christ wants. She was in the room, probably wondering what the heck was going on. She walked out of the room, came back in carrying a stuffed teddy bear, carried it to my wife and said, "Here you go, Mom. This will make you feel better. I love you." Then she hugged her. Way better course of action than mine.

3. There are some songs in church that I enjoy singing, and there are some songs that I endure being played. My demeanor probably isn't significantly different in either case. The last time we were in church, we just got done singing "On Christ the Solid Rock I Stand." Great song. I'm a big fan of that song. My wife and I have sung the chorus to Elise my daughter a couple of times, and she recognized it. Immediately after the song was done, the congregation was dead silent. Right then Elise yells out, "HEY! They just sang On Christ the Solid Rock I Stand." The couple hundred people in the room all heard it and let out an audible chuckle. I had to be proud. I sang the song and stood dutifully. She was passionate about it.

I am now seeking more and more a child-like faith.

Anniversary

My blog turned one year old this week. It's tough to notice - this is one of the priorities in my life that has been on the backburner for much of the summer. I've written only about once every other week. But it does call for some reflection.

The biggest thing I can say is that I started with a goal - a worthy goal - of seeing daily events (of the world, of my life, in what I read) through a biblical worldview. I titled the blog "Prone to Wander" after the lyrics in the hymn "Come Thou Fount" because I felt I was prone to wander away from this. One year later, I think I might be worse at this. I have wandered greatly lately; and just as all the other times I've wandered, I haven't come out better for it.

I began the digging out process tonight, the "training" if you will to "work the fat off of the soul" (Hemingway quote). I opened my Bible for the first time in about a month and a half. While reading I realized just how stupid I've been during one of the most highly-stressed summers of my life.

Here's why I've been stupid: I tried to do this thing alone. The fact that the stress I put on myself due to my insane schedule was self-inflicted led me to carry the burden mentally alone. My wife helped me out a tremendous amount, but I tried not to burden her with the toll this was taking on my sanity. Mostly I felt guilty for putting her in a position where she was busier because I was busier. My family, especially my and Emily's parents, provided a tremendous amount of help as well. Again, though, I almost felt guilty every time I had to ask for that help. I felt like the guy who took on too much, so much that he had to find others to help him run his family. More guilt. More emotional burden. And the more there was, the more I tried to fight it alone.

I tried to fight it alone because my worldview sucked, because I had been wandering. I may write more about this summer and what I've learned, and I might not; but one incontrovertible fact is that I did next to nothing to maintain my relationship with Christ. If I had, I would have realized that I shouldn't be doing anything alone, no matter how worthy a goal or how much guilt I had assigned to it. Tonight I read about Christ as he's going to the death. In some of his final words to his disciples before he is crucified, he tells them, "Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full." Later, he leads by example: he prays for himself. He asks for help. He is not in it alone.

I'm an idiot.

Year 2 begins with the same goals. I've enjoyed the commentary shared here, and this blog writing has been a very important part of my life over the last year. I enter year 2 with more knowledge, with more flaws, and with more followers than what I started with to hopefully push the conversation.

I pray that none of us be alone.

The Risk of Relationships

I had to read John Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men for grad school this week. I've become a big Steinbeck fan over the past few years because I really think he gets it - he portrays human nature very well. One of the aspects of humanity he describes especially well in this book is the reality of relationships.

Most of the characters in the book are very independent. They rely on themselves and don't owe anything to anybody. The two main characters though, George and Lennie, have decided to travel around together. They have taken responsibility for each other. It becomes very clear early in the novel in the passage below that George resents this responsibility at times:

"God a'mighty, if I was alone I could live so easy. I could go get a job an' work, an' no trouble. No mess at all, and when the end of the month come I could take my fifty bucks and go into town and get whatever I want. Why, I could stay in a cat house all night. I could eat any place I want, hotel or any place, and order any damn thing I could think of. An I could do all that every damn month. . . An' whatta I got, I got you!"

Here's the first thing that came to my head when I read those early pages: What parent hasn't had similar thoughts about the freedom available to them before they had children? What spouse hasn't thought about that when they want to do something or buy something or schedule something but then must check first? Wouldn't life be so much easier?

This is a natural feeling. Yet George remains with Lennie, and I haven't left my wife or my children. Why? Because relationships are worth it. There is a great cost to them - you give up some personal freedom and you suddenly find yourself in some way responsible for someone else's happiness. However, you have someone to give a "hoot in hell" about you, as the characters in the text say. George understands this, and it's part of his grand romantic picture of the American Dream for him and Lennie that drives them throughout the text. The good relationships are worth the cost. The other workers are described as "the loneliest guys in the world. They got no family. They don't belong no place. . . They ain't got nothing to look ahead to."
Those characters avoid relationships because of the cost and the risk involved. They don't want to hurt. The only women they chase are whores, because the only thing required of them is money. They engage in casual conversations and horseshoe tournaments with the other workers because it passes the time, and it's tough for a friend to let you down if all you're doing is playing horseshoes. They'll never know the value of great companionship, but they'll never have to know the hurt of disappointment either.

I teach my students that risk = reward. It's true of goals, and it's true of relationships. You can only win big if you're willing to lose big. If you only bet/risk a little, you can only gain a little.

To me, this is human nature right here. It's as real as it gets. Everyone must decide - is this relationship worth the risk? Do I risk my time, my personal freedom, my emotions, and my dreams on this person hoping that the relationship pays off? Or do I remain aloof and never get too close to family, friends, a spouse? Do I never have children? All to avoid the possibility of risk? I think this is universally true of every relationship - sibling, parental, romantic, friend. I'm sure all of us have been burned - been hurt by those we allowed to get close to us. And I hope we all have seen situations where the risk is worth it.

When I thought about this today, I realized that this is probably a big part of the reason many people aren't chasing down a relationship with Christ. There's risk involved. I'm sure the diehard, life-long Christians out there might be thinking, "Risk? What risk?" Oh, there's definitely risk. Am I willing to risk changing my priorities and my actions for this relationship? What if the reward is fake, isn't real (and there are plenty of voices out there sending that mesage)? What if all the time I put into prayer or Bible reading doesn't produce results? What if Christ lets me down?

The reward can only be great to those who risk greatly. But we shouldn't be shocked: Christ advertised as much - "For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake and the gospel's will save it." (Mark 8:35)

To be a Man

One real concern I've had over the past couple of years is that I would never really turn into a man. As I write this, I realize that to be a horribly ambiguous statement, so let me clarify. A man, to me, knows how to fix stuff. He knows how to build stuff, he's got a lot of tools, and he's got a truck to haul his tools or the stuff he's fixing. All I have is a truck. I don't know how to fix my truck when it breaks, I struggled mightily in "building" a roll-top cover for it, and mostly I haul nothing. I'm not a man. My goal is to some day be a man. My children will want a man in the house.

Luckily, my father is teaching me about being a man. He's got the truck full of tools and the know-how to use them. When he comes to my house, he asks for the list. "The list" is all the stuff I don't know how to do that I'm too cheap to pay for someone else to do. This is what he does for me. He comes to my house to work; if I pay close attention, I also get to learn. I learned English and athletics while growing up. That led me into a career, and I don't regret it. Now, however, I want to learn how to be a man. Slowly, one project at a time, I'm learning from my father.

I don't know how many 30 year olds will admit to needing their father. Our individualistic culture has encouraged us to not need anybody. I've got no problem, though, admitting that I need mine.

Here's the thing, though. In all of this learning, I've learned something completely different and more important about being a man and being a father. My dad gives his kids what he can give. He does for us what he can do and is available to give what he's got. I look around my house, and half of the furniture in it has been created by him. I can't walk through a room in my house without pointing to something Dad has made better. He knows what he has to offer, he recognizes need, and he's there.

I doubt I'll ever make furniture. I hope to get good with power tools someday, but mostly I just hope to learn their names soon. What I can do, though, if I'm going to be a man in my house, is give what I've got to give, whatever that is, wherever my kids are. My father taught me that.

Fruit or Folly?

"Never mistake activity for achievement."
-John Wooden

About a month ago I wrote a post called training in which I discussed how time consuming having young children can be and how little time I had to do some of the things I enjoy, especially Bible reading and prayer. Ultimately, I came to the conclusion that I would have to use my previous training of reading and prayer in order to live well in this current stage of my life. I'm testing that theory this month.

In another self-inflicted move of "busyness," I've filled my calendar in the month of June, but I've done it with priorities. Other than watching my girls all summer, there are 3 outside activities I'm devoting time to:

• Coaching Basketball: To those of you who haven't heard, I'm now the assistant varsity coach at Mason City. This is the position I've wanted for a while working with the coach I've wanted to work with for a while. If this scenario hadn't occurred, I was probably done coaching. June is filled with camps and open gyms.
• Umpiring high school baseball games. Usually 4 nights a week I'm on a baseball diamond.
• Grad school. Completing two courses simultaneously beginning this week. It's a summer session, so that means more work in less time.

Though my schedule is now way past full, I maintain that these were good decisions driven by some of my core values. I believe I can improve the lives of young athletes through coaching. It provides me the influence that I can have in no other way to help teach kids life skills. Umpiring is good money usually with people I enjoy being around. This allows me to bring home decent money over the summer to my family without ever having to bring my girls to daycare. Grad school is making me a better teacher. And helping me bring home more money for my family. It also could open up opportunities later for positions of greater influence.

This could also all be a huge waste if not approached correctly. Either I remain in God with these activities and produce real fruit, or I engage in activity for activity's sake and simply run from one place to another. I realized tonight that in order for this to be a productive month, I've got to make sure:

• I'm coaching basketball passionately to build up kids, not to be recognized in a position of greater importance than my last one. This can't be about me, and I've got to be very careful about that.
• My job is to serve as an umpire, just as if I were serving God. These games aren't for me to survive and collect a check; they are another opportunity to represent Christ.
• My motivation for grad school must not be to improve my standing with others, but to improve my skills in working with others.

Bottom line - either I'm with God in these endeavors, or I'm on my own trying to survive. I've done both before in my life. My experience tells me John Wooden is right.

The Death of Expectations

Though I haven't been able to write over the past couple of weeks because of my schedule, I have been collecting instances in which I've noticed a rash of low or non-existent expectations, especially around teenagers.

1. The phrase "Well at least I'm being honest," has always been one that's bothered me from students. They could have killed their sibling, but if they follow it with, "Well, at least I'm honest," it's as if all sins are absolved. When did honesty cease becoming an expectation? When did we get to the point where lying is expected and that great strides in character have been taken for being honest?

I thought that was bad and have always chastised students for that. During the last week of school, I realized that the situation had worsened. Instead of "At least I'm honest," I began to hear students say "Well, at least I'm here." Now attendance isn't an expectation - it's proof of character.

2. I recently read comments by Iowa State University's athletic director about athletes transferring that I thought were telling as well:
However, it also helps to keep our transfers in perspective. My peers and I continually discuss the epidemic around the country in the sport of basketball. In the past two years over 500 men’s basketball players have transferred from a Division I team to another program. That number is absolutely amazing. Unfortunately if a kid’s world is not absolutely perfect (in their mind), they run from the problem rather than deal with it. Makes you wonder if it is the first signs of our society’s change in our early education program (no longer give kids grades – everybody passes; can’t keep score, everybody has to win; if you do not like something, have mom or dad complain on your behalf). Personally I wonder how that generation is going to survive in the real world when mom or dad or AAU coach are not there for them during their first job interview or first job evaluation. The bottom line is life is not a video game, you can’t just hit reset if you do not like your initial score.

3. A recent Time magazine article detailed studies across the nation aimed at paying students for grades, attendance, homework, etc. This is considered a viable reform option in getting kids more motivated to perform in school.

I close this school year not with optimism, but with fear for the future. I suppose that's a fitting end to a difficult year. I wish I could put a positive spin on trends both in teenagers and in educational policy. I simply can't.

Well, at least I'm being honest.

Reputation Gone Awry

I'm stuck this week with commentary but no answer to the commentary. I welcome all comments - I'd love fresh perspective on this one.

The question I've been turning over in my head is this: "How should I be seen by the world? What should my reputation in the world be?"

I'm big on reputation. I teach the value of it, and I've worked hard to develop mine. Basically I believe that my daily actions slowly create a reputation amongst others, and that collection of daily actions becomes my identity to them. Most people can list qualities that they'd like to be known for or that they believe about themselves - I'm a nice person, I'm generous, I'm passionate, I'm good at my job, I love my family. . . - but the question is whether or not their daily actions reflect those things. I've tried to teach my students and my basketball players that their actions on a daily basis speak of their character and their priorities and they should be very intentional about the messages they are sending about themselves to others. This week I was confronted with my own reputation.

I found out that one of my bosses (in education you have many) doesn't necessarily like the job I do. Of course I wasn't told that by the boss (another education perk: we believe in many bosses, zero honesty and feedback), but it was by a credible source. I was also told that I'm "polarizing." At first I was very upset. I've worked at this school as a teacher and coach for 3 years now, as long as any other position I've held. I felt like when I left my previous schools, I did so after obtaining respect from students, co-workers, and bosses alike. I'm sure I wasn't liked by everyone, but I certainly felt respected by most. Now, 3 years into this position, I was told I'm seen as a polarizing figure who isn't necessarily suited for more responsibility.

I've calmed down since. When I was upset, it wasn't in self-defense; I was disappointed in myself for building this reputation and was trying to figure out how to change that. I've been doing some thinking, though. How good of a reputation do I really want in this world?

I say that because many times in the New Testament, Christ guarantees trials and tribulations in this world. He says that if you follow Him, there's a great chance the world will hate you. This is good, He says, because we are not to be of the world. If the world loves us, we fit too well in this land.

However, it is also a New Testament theme that we are to represent Christ well in all that we do. We are to be Christ (in actions) to our neighbors. When we take on the name "Christian," what we do affects the reputation of Christ and the Church. I'm not sure the best way to do that is openly alienate all those around me.

I guess the question I have to ask myself is whether or not my actions are Christ-like. Christ was polarizing. Christ spoke hard truths (in love) to others, and they got pretty pissed off about it. He had enough people hate Him that he was executed with no evidence of wrongdoing. Yet he had fiercely loyal followers.

I'm not sure what this means to me. Obviously I don't want to necessarily be polarizing. The more people I can draw to me as a credible, caring person, the better Christ is represented. More dangerous than polarizing, though, would be compromising. And if I am polarizing because I don't compromise my faith, my views of morality, and my unwillingness to accept mediocrity from students and players, then polarizing is something I can embrace.

Thoughts?

Seeing God this weekend

While I can't remember the exact Psalm off the top of my head, I know that in one of them the writer expresses that evidence of God exists everywhere. Everywhere we look, we can see God here on earth. This weekend, and really all the time, one of the the greatest pictures for me of God here on earth is my mother. When I think about her words and actions when I'm with her, I realize I've seen the goodness of God. Here are some examples.

"Let the little children come to me."
My mother has time, patience, and energy for both of my daughters all of the time. I don't think I'll ever be able to match that level of patience. My 2 1/2 year old sprints to her when she sees her. When Mom visits, she's the first to the one month old in the middle of the night to rock her, and Mom looks like she feels like the luckiest person in the world in the morning for getting to do that.

Fervent prayer.
I remember Christ praying with great passion for his disciples, and I know how fervently Mom prays for her kids. Of course, we've given her many reasons to pray over the years. I know, though, that when Mom says she's praying for us, she really is praying for us.

Servant-heart.
When Mom comes to visit, all of a sudden dirty dishes disappear, the house is picked up, and laundry is magically finished. It's sometimes a chore to get her to sit down and just talk.

"In all things God works for the good of those who love Him."
Mom provides constant strength in times of desperation. When I'm tired and desperate for help, she is there. I don't like to be vulnerable around other people and appear as if I don't have everything under control, but I will with her. And I know she will do everything she can for my good.

Feed the 5 thousand.
This weekend we had several guests staying at our house for the wedding who arrived on Thursday evening. Emily remembered that we didn't have much in the house for breakfast and instructed me to get milk so we could at least eat cereal. A couple hours later Mom showed up, toting a large container of bagels from Panera. Later in the week she took me and Elise and my future brother-in-law out to lunch. A favorite dessert bar amongst Emily's family is named after Mom, who introduced the family to it. While it might not be quite 5 thousand people each time, like her mother before her, it's impossible to go hungry around Mom.

God has most certainly made it easy for me to see Him here on earth.

Training

So I've figured out that having two kids is hard. I knew one kid was tough, but two is really hard. Really hard. Many of you have been there. You're the ones laughing right now. You know that it's rare for both to sleep at the same time, that the oldest one doesn't recognize the fact that the youngest was up all night screaming, and that you basically give up all rights to anything you, personally, alone want to get done. Maybe it will get done; probably it won't. And there is crap strewn throughout your entire house (figuratively and literally), but you just don't care. It's wonderful - it's just mass chaos most of the time.

I haven't written a blog post in 2 weeks. I haven't worked out since. . . March? February? I barely get my dog walked. Worse, though, is that it's really tough finding time to read my Bible and pray. Doing that is strength for me and considered a vital part of a Christian's life. It just isn't getting done right now.

I can't decide if that's okay or not, but I'm figuring out a little bit that it's going to have to be okay. Maybe that's a weak copout or excuse, but life is just going to be like this for a while. Wonderful, but chaotic. The more I've thought about this, though, the more I've figured out that this is what I've been training for.

This is a test of the Christian training I've done throughout my life. I read and pray to be effective in the life situations in which God puts me. This is a life situation. Therefore, this is a test of my training. How effective am I when I'm tired? How well do I treat my wife? How well do I love my children? How well do I do my job, and how do I treat the people I come in contact with each day? How do I respond to adversity?

I think I've said this before, but fatigue has got to be the root of most sin. I've had some pretty angry displays when tired, and I've seen some significant sleep-deprived tirades from others as well. If I'm being 100% honest in this blog, I've got to admit that in the past month I've felt the following when tired:
- I've tried to keep score with my wife, and gotten frustrated when I thought I was ahead in terms of child care or household duties or workload.
- I've wanted to take Leah, the one month old, back to the store and perhaps get a fish instead.
- I've wanted to complain and mope and whine about the ineffective manner in which my school is operating and the way staff are treated.
- I've wanted to kill freshmen. Many freshmen. Long, painful, torturous deaths. And film them. And watch them over and over and over.

In the midst of this fatigue and frustration and lack of power from prayer or from Bible-reading, my reactions and my ability to conquer base emotions are a sign of my training. How far into my frustration do I remember my call to love my wife sacrificially, whether I feel like it or not? Or my call to lead my family well and the immense blessing that children are? Or my faith that God is in control, that he hasn't guaranteed any level of comfort in this life, and that my words in tough times reveal what I really believe about God to the world?

There have been days that I remember well and shut down the self-centered, woe is me garbage that I'm prone to. There have been others in which I've wallowed in frustration, almost embraced it in an "I deserve to feel like this!" manner. So far, though, I've experienced more of the former. And that's good. If I can't handle the wonderful chaos, how will I handle the inevitable disastrous chaos that will occur at some point in my life?

One of my favorite movies is Top Gun, and just before the final battle, one of the of superiors tells the fighter pilots after detailing the upcoming battle, "This is what you've been trained for. Make us proud." This is indeed what I've been trained for.

Health Care and Chainsaws

Although I enjoy discussing politics a great deal, I've stayed away from commenting on the health care debate that has gripped our nation over the past year. I came across an article this week, however, that has inspired me to write.

I'd like to start by making two statements about my stance here:
1. If you're hoping or waiting for the government to solve all your problems or to make anything perfect, you're a fool.

2. If you're waiting for the invisible hand of the market to solve all problems or for individuals to use their freedom to act responsibly in their own best interest, you're equally foolish.

I suppose that makes me an independent. . .

Anyway, the article I read was about faith-based health care cooperatives. These people don't have health insurance - they belong to these co-ops and collectively take care of each others' medical bills. They are asked to donate a monthly amount, and each month they are given the address and names of others in the co-op who need that money for their medical bills. When they themselves have medical bills, they submit their need to the leaders of the coop, who funnel enough money their way to cover the expenses. Though the article emphasizes the faith required in others in the coop coming through, there has yet to be a medical expense that wasn't covered for a member.


This is the way a church should act. The church shouldn't be looking for a free market solution or a government solution. A church should take care of its own. The members of the Acts church did this. They took care of those who needed care, shared what they had, and supported where needed. There was no unmet need among them. Why doesn't this exist more? When I need my car fixed, why don't I turn to those in my church who can meet that need? Or when I need a baby-sitter? Or a chainsaw? Or financial advise? Or tutor? Or snowblower?


Imagine the sheer amount of money spent by individuals in the private sector when qualified individuals who can fill the need exist in the church? Why does everybody own one of everything, when conceivably all members of a church could share their possessions that they've hoarded. I know I sound like I'm advocating for some hippy utopian paradise. Maybe I am. It doesn't sound all that illogical to me, though. It's working for the thousands getting their health "insurance" this way.


All of this got me to thinking about my small town and how my community of people here acts like this vision I have for church. This week my neighbor came over and picked the excess grass off my lawn with his riding lawn mower, helped me fertilize my lawn, and brought his chainsaw over to work on a bush that needed taken out. That same friend and another sacrificed a day of their Spring Break with their heads under my sink trying to fix a plumbing problem. Another community member shows up with his 4-wheeler when the snow is really deep to help me with my driveway. Last summer I told another neighbor about some landscaping work I was doing. When I came back outside after a break, I found landscaping materials cut exactly the size I needed sitting in my lawn. This same man was out on the coldest morning of the year, trying to help a friend of mine who was staying at my house start her car.


I've been on roofs doing manual labor in the middle of hot July days, I've taken care of pets, and other odd jobs around here. I won't ever come close to repaying the work done and the equipment borrowed in my community. When I moved here I was told there is only one rule: Don't keep score.


My family is terrific like this, too. That's why I'm so glad that I live close to our families, glad that I didn't have to relocate this year. They love with sacrificial love, and they've saved Emily and I on an almost daily basis. Good families, like good communities, do this. I have both.

I guess I believe good churches should do this too. Churches are great when it comes to weddings and funerals and major tragedies. I'm not saying that. I just don't see it often in the day to day needs people have that could be taken care of by other church members. Instead of waiting on the government or relying on ourselves, why not help each other in the day to day? Like with health coverage. Or chainsaw work on a spring afternoon.

More on 3 Cups of Tea

Allah Akbhar! It looks like my job won't be eliminated this year. I am blessed. I will have a job next school year. Inshallah. (See previous post for translations).

Tonight I'm posting comments about fellow grad students' papers over Three Cups of Tea, and I was reminded of one of the Pakistanis in the book who was instrumental to the success of Mortenson. Abdul Shah was a local in 'Pindi, who with nothing to gain, served Mortenson and helped him accomplish his goals.

Being reminded of his actions by another student's paper got me thinking, so I thought I'd share what I wrote on our class's discussion board:

"It's difficult when I put myself into Abdul Shah's position. I like to think of myself as a generous, helpful person. We all would like to believe that about ourselves, I think. However, would I do what he did? Would I serve an outsider in this manner? Shine his shoes? Spend a day haggling for supplies and risk my personal reputation in a community I must live in for the rest of my life? All for an "infidel"?

It seems like good common sense when we read it because we know how this story ends - Mortenson is a good guy doing good things. Shah has no idea how this story will end, though. And many Americans have given him little reason to have faith that a benevolent, sacrificial foreigner exists. This is a true picture of generosity - the kind that costs you something and comes at a great risk."

What I learned from Islam

I recently read the book Three Cups of Tea for grad school. The book is about a man, Greg Mortenson, who has helped to build schools in the villages of Pakistan and Afghanistan, especially schools for girls. Mortenson, an American, is largely successful because he exhibits enough humility to get to know the people he is helping and their ways of life. One of the tenants of life in that area of the world is Islam.

One of the first things that comes into the heads of most Americans when those countries and the word "Islam" are together is terrorism. It's tragic, but it's true. Terrorism, though, comes from radical Islam. Radical Islam is awful. But so is radical Christianity. The Des Moines Register ran an article today about the protesting presence at Drake University of members of that Baptist "church" from Topeka who go disrupt military funerals and walk around with signs carrying such pearls of wisdom as "God hates Fags," "God hates Jews," and "Fags are Beasts." Their leader said the dead coal miners in the West Virginia tragedy this week are now "burning in hell." Radical anything is dangerous, an abominition, and tragically colors the reputation of non-radicals. Aligning terrorists with the Islamic faith is foolish. Aligning me this Topeka crew is just as insulting.

Having learned through this book about several individuals who are passionate followers of Islam, I was impressed by a couple of things:

1. "Allah Akbhar!" This phrase was commonly used and roughly translates into "Glory/Thanks be to God." It is said with passion. Every major positive event is followed with this phrase. There is immediate gratitude to God, and all blessings are attributed to him. It is not luck or chance. I am blessed daily. I do not carry the phrase "Thanks be to God" around with me, however. Too many days I feel entitled to my blessings.

2. "Inshallah." Another common phrase meaning "God willing." When Mortenson relates his plans to locals, his words are often responded to with this. They don't tell God his will, and they don't expect their lives to go perfectly. They will be blessed, God willing. They will see friends or family again, God willing. They will live through the next day, God willing. They recognize their dependence on God, and they respect when His will is not what they have planned.

3. They stopped everything 5 times a day for prayer. They go through a cleansing ritual before praying out of respect for God, and they drop absolutely everything to pray. There were no excuses. There was no busyness getting in the way. I can imagine it is much easier to thank God and rely on God's will and attribute great blessings to Him when one unconditionally responds to His goodness 5 times a day.

4. Ramadan. During this one month holiday, all Muslims fast from sunrise to sunset, out of respect to God and as a way of "fine-tuning" their spiritual devotion. One month. They don't give up chocolate. They don't give up chewing gum. They fast for a month, in honor of God.

These are a patient people. Their faith enables them to endure a great number of hardships with persistence. I am not suggesting I should become a follower of Islam. Christ is the only path to salvation, and I pray that these passionate and devoted people embrace Christ.

The bottom line, though, is that their devotion can be learned from. Their faithfulness is an example Christians should seek to match. They don't blow up buildings - they make God the prominent focus in their lives.

Doing Great Things

I turned 30 this weekend. As a friend of mine said, you never really think you'll be 30 until you are. Well, here I am.

I always intended to reflect a bit about what I've done over 30 years, especially the last ten or so years that I've had some freedom. I haven't really done that - the closest I've come is resolving to join Facebook in the near future so I can join the rest of the world. I'm still holding strong, however, on my resolve to avoid a cell phone plan.

A great fear of mine has always been that of being inconsequential, of being ordinary. I hate to say it because it sounds so self-centered, but I think I have to add to that list a fear of being forgotten. I want what I do to matter, to be able to say I took what I've been given and accomplished great things. On responsible days, I want to do great things for God. On most days, I want to do great things for me and say they are for God. On bad days I just want to feed my ego.

It's that desire to do big things for God that came up in my mind while I was reading some of Oswald Chambers' writing tonight, and something caught my eye. The following quote speaks volumes:

"Walking on the water is easy. . ., but walking on dry land as a disciple of Jesus Christ is a different thing. Peter walked on the water to go to Jesus, but he followed Him afar off on the land. We do not need the grace of God to stand crises. . . but it does require the supernatural grace of God to live twenty-four hours in every day as a saint, to go through drudgery as a disciple, to live an ordinary, unobserved, ignored existence as a disciple of Jesus. It is inbred in us that we have to do exceptional things for God; but we have not. We have to be exceptional in the ordinary things, to be holy in the mean streets, among mean people, and this is not learned in five minutes."

I've always listed Peter as one of the 3 people from history that I'd love to speak with. My primary reason is that he walked on water. I'd love to know what that was like, to know how he mustered the faith, to know what he was thinking. But it's clear that isn't the story. The questions I should be asking should be about what it was liking walking next to Christ on a daily basis.

I don't know if I've accomplished a whole lot in my first 30 years, and I don't know what I'll accomplish in the next 30 (if I get them). I'll let God be the judge of that. I am beginning to realize, though, the value of being extraordinary in the mundane. And just how much prayer it will require to be a twenty-four hour a day saint.

On a More Serious Note. . .

Praise God from whom all blessings flow:

Leah Grace Dykstra was born Sunday night at 8:20. My wife is healthy, and so is Leah. My oldest daughter (that feels weird to say) approves, and my yellow lab has thoroughly sniffed her over and decided she can stay.

I am indeed blessed.

A Day of Thanksgiving

Praise God from whom all blessings flow:

UNI 69
Kansas 67

I know this is a bit irreverent for this blog, but I just can't help myself. Last time this happened - Oh wait, it never has.

Go Panthers.

Proud to be an American?

My current grad class is about teaching refugee and immigrant students. For it I read the book Middle of Everywhere by Mary Pipher, a good book on the refugee experience of adjusting to life in America.

I want to start this post by saying that I love America. We have a great country; and though I have little travel experience, from what I've read this year, I feel lucky to have grown up here. That said, I am scared to death of my daughter growing up in American culture.

In my notes for this book, I collected a list of what refugees had to say about America. These people are all grateful for the opportunities provided for them here, but they did make several observations. Some of them:

• "Americans think it is a sin to do nothing." (74)
• "I have learned that when an American looks at his watch, it means I am taking too much of his time. I had better leave quickly." (74)
• "Americans invented stress. And with globalization, stress will soon be all over the world." (75)
• from the TV: America is obsessed with violence, sex, consumption, money, and power (86)
• a Vietnamese teen felt sorry for white teens: "They are really unlucky. They have no real culture. They go around trying to steal other people's groups - blacks, Asians, just so they can find some identity." (168-9)
• With acculturation, the well-being of refugee students actually decreases. The longer kids are in America, the less time they spend on homework and the more likely they are to be sexually active. (172)
• "The American educational system is designed to make students stop thinking."
• amazed at how disrespectful American students were - talking to their friends in class, mouthing off, sleeping, kissing in the halls, or shouting "F*** you."
• "American teens are always talking about sex and alcohol."
• "American kids brag about getting drunk. In my country, alcohol was no big deal. Here teens are desperate to drink."
• "Some American kids are nice." Response: "They are nice to their friends, but not to their parents."
• people are obsessed with "mine, mine, mine." Huge emphasis on property and individual rights; joked about how Americans worried over who paid what on a restaurant bill (213)
• A comment in response to American women and their dress: "Women are jewels, not toys. They should respect themselves."
• regarding America's high divorce rate: "In Iraq, marriage is a shirt you wear for the rest of your life. If you tear it, you mend it."

There are many glowing pictures of individual American generosity as well. But that is not what stands out about our culture. The book discusses how the biggest challenge for these families is all the cultural shifting they have to do - acting American at appropriate times while also maintaining their own cultural traditions as well. Basically, they try to take the good from each culture; ultimately, however, they've got to learn how to be functional in American society.

Biblically speaking, Christians are refugees in the world, charged with being in the world but not of the world. We must be effective and successful in the world without embracing the culture. This is difficult, and I saw great exmaples of what this looks like when reading about these refugee experiences.

I see my daughter soaking up everything around her now, and a lot of it doesn't come from me or my wife. She picks up so much from our babysitter and her son, from the YMCA classes she takes, and from the books she reads. Most of it is great; but it's become clear she is a sponge. I've found myself muting commercials on the TV when it's on in our house to keep some of those messages from sinking in. She already walks through stores with us saying, "We should buy this, and we should buy this, and we should buy this. . ." Parenting is about to get real difficult (I can hear my mother laughing at me right now).

In one of my favorite movies, Spanglish, a Mexican immigrant mother is talking with an American man about sending her daughter to an American prep school. She says she's afraid because her daughter will either be very different from all the other kids, or become the same as the others. Out of those two choices, the man and the woman decided that it would definitely be better to be different.

I pray that my daughter is different. And I pray that for myself as well.

Another Chance

On Friday afternoon at the end of the school day, I walked into my principal's office to find out just how safe my current job is. I did not walk out with a lot of confidence. As the low man on the totem pole of experience, I knew all year with the talk of budget cuts that the possibility existed that I would be out. I never really thought the chances were great - after all, they cut from our department last year, and we just don't have the people to absorb another cut. I had hoped to walk into my principal's office and hear, "Don't worry." Instead I heard, "We just don't know yet. It wouldn't hurt to apply for other jobs."

This isn't my first time dealing with job uncertainty:
- During both years of teaching and coaching in Nebraska, I dealt with a couple members of the school board (and the superintendent) who were parents of players and wanted me out. I never got an explanation from them, just a lot of backroom attempts to get me out.
- When my last school district decided to join with another, the head coaching position that I assumed was mine was not.
- Last year when the head basketball coaching position at my current school was open, it looked like a sure thing and pure common sense for one of our assistants (and a good friend with whom I would love to coach for years) to get the position. His and my basketball careers would move forward. He did not get the job. I didn't even get an interview. So much for loyalty. It was very difficult for me to sign on for another year of coaching.

All of these situations involved a great deal of deceit. I felt screwed over and lied to each time. And here we are again (though without the deceit, I'll have to admit), in another time of uncertainly.

I'd give myself a C- in terms of how I dealt with these events in the past. I had confidence in each scenario that God was in control, that God would provide, that all would work out well for me and my family. And I was right each time. But I also spent a lot of time letting people know that I felt I was treated unfairly. I complained. A lot. I advertised my rough situation with a "Woe is me!" tone to just about anyone who would listen. And I worried a lot. I've always regretted that. I guess this is my chance to do it right.

I don't know how this is going to turn out. Maybe I'll still have my job. Maybe I'll get another one, whether it's a good fit for me or not. Maybe I'll join 10% of America and be unemployed for a while. The Sovereign God will take care of me. But I must take care to let my actions and especially my words speak of this faith, instead of letting them speak of my anxiety and my sense of being wronged. I'd say this is my second chance to do handle this the right way, but it's more like my 9th or 10th.

Yesterday I read a couple of really applicable statements in the Psalms once again (Ps. 94, emphasis added):
"Blessed is the man whom You instruct, O Lord,
And teach out of Your law,
That You may give him rest from the days of adversity."

"In the multitude of my anxieties within me,
Your comforts delight my soul."

If I am to really make a statement of the Lord's goodness to the world and to the amount of joy and satisfaction available in Him, what better way than to exhibit faith and joy and rest and comfort in these days of adversity and in the multitude of anxieties. Most people are happy in times of plenty and comfort. If I remain focused on God instead of my uncertainty, I can have great joy at all times. Anything less is another wasted opportunity.

Don't argue with idiots

In a recent news article, Fox News commentator Glenn Beck has claimed that the Bible says nothing about social justice and any member of a church that teaches it or uses that phrase should leave the church. This led Rev. Jim Wallis, president of Sojourners, a progressive Christian organization, to respond by saying all Christians should boycott Beck's show. Wallis also made an appearance on MSNBC to refute Beck further.

Make no mistake - I think Glenn Beck is an idiot. But he's paid to be an idiot, and paid well. He's a Republican shock jock: he makes bold and often unfounded statements, stirs up fear at every opportunity, and becomes tearful when discussing the loss of traditional America at the hands of the Democrats. This sells. I don't care what political party you embrace; if you can do this well, you will have followers.

Is Beck wrong? Yes. Biblically, we have a great responsibility to the poor. I'm not sure that responsibility involves some of the liberal programs Wallis advocates, but Beck is wrong about Christ's teachings. But that doesn't change the fact that Beck plays an idiot on TV to make money, and Christians, especially leaders of Christian groups, shouldn't argue with idiots.

Boycott Beck? Why? So we can further insulate ourselves into rooms of only people we agree with? I don't see that as an effective strategy for being salt and light in the world. I think Christians, like most people, are in a hurry to avoid anyone with whom we disagree. And that's dangerous. In order to build relationships with people and connect with them, we must understand them. In order to understand ourselves and have any sort of confidence in the beliefs we hold dearly, they must be challenged. And if we seek to change minds about the teachings of Christ, we must know the minds of those we are seeking to change.

This may not be popular with some of my readers, but one of the things I'm most thankful for in my education is that I attended public schools instead of Christian ones. I was daily with a lot of people who thought my beliefs were bunk. Perhaps one of the most critical days for my faith came at UNI, when an atheist professor challenged the beliefs of Christians in a lecture hall. I found the gigantic holes in my faith, realized how much I didn't know, and became dedicated to discovering and embracing truth - not just the traditions in which I had grown up.

When I first read the article, I was irritated with Wallis for the call for boycott. In the interview on MSNBC, he did say what I hoped to hear from him in the beginning: "I'd like to have a conversation with Beck." Conversations, not boycotts, lead to better understanding. However, it was clear as the interview went on that the purpose for the conversation Wallis wanted to have was to prove to Beck that Beck was wrong. His goal was to win an argument. And I think that's a bad motivation.

As a Christian leader, it is Jim Wallis' job to teach about Christ. Wallis can do that without calling for Beck boycotts or challenging him to a debate to prove how right he is. If Wallis is concerned about Beck's soul, he can call him without going on to MSNBC to do it. If he wants to get into a political policy debate with him, then let's leave religion out of that conversation.

Wrong kind of fear

For some reason I woke up early on Saturday morning at about 5:30 and couldn't go back to sleep. Sleep is a precious commodity right now, as I prepare for the arrival of kid #2 and the subsequent months will little rest. Unable to get back to sleep, I made a pot of coffee and decided it was about time I returned to a little Bible reading.

I'm glad I did. It had been at least a good week or two at least since it had been opened. Luckily, next on my reading list was Psalm 91. I had written down Psalm 91 about a year ago the last time it was on my reading list and referred to it as a "Psalm of Success." In my quest to define a successful life that aligns more with God and less with American culture, my reading of the Psalm gave me a perfect definition of what life should be like. I felt like if I could just achieve what the writer was describing in this Psalm, that would be the picture of a successful life.

I wrote the Psalm down and typed it out, but I haven't paid much attention to it since then. Then I stumbled on it yesterday morning once again, and it became real all over again. I did some online reading of commentary on that particular Psalm, and several have referred to it as a song of assurance of God's protection. This makes sense because the result of the faith described in the Psalm is refuge and a lack of fear in life.

This got me thinking about fear. I often let fear dictate my life decisions. There are certain things I am scared to death of. Snakes, for instance. But that's not the kind of fear I'm talking about.

The best example I have is coaching. Ever since I've been out of the position of head coach, I've thought about getting out of the profession for a while. It's a big decision at the end of every year, and every year I get closer to not signing that freshman basketball contract. Ultimately, I think fear has kept me from that. I'm scared to death of not being a coach. That's been a major part of my identity for many years. I'm scared of losing the relationships I have because of coaching. I'm scared of being seen as just another teacher, of how I'd handle a season watching instead of coaching. I'm scared of giving up that part of my life, because that's a part of my life that I know and understand and is predictable (even though much of the "reliable" aspects of the position are ones that I don't like about the job).

Here's what I figured out yesterday morning, though. I'm scared of what a post-basketball identify for myself would be, but I haven't really been scared of what losing my identity as a Christ-follower would be, and I lose parts of that identity every year during the season. I'm scared of harming relationships by getting out of coaching, but I've never been fearful about harming my relationship with God (which occurs every season). I'm scared to lose my job or lose the comfortable life I have, when the only real fear I should have is the fear of losing God, or of wasting the gift of life I've been given by chasing after things that won't satisfy.

Coaching isn't a sin, and I might do it again. But the Bible is full of "Fear not. . ." statements, and Psalm 91 describes a fearless lifestyle driven by faith. And I've been too scared of losing comfort and predictability to go and grab it.

Thoughts on Joy

Joy is elusive.

I was riding in a vehicle with a good friend of mine last night, and we were discussing a mutual friend. This friend (the one being spoken about) has what one might call an addictive personality. Once he finds a vice, he latches on with great gusto. When the vice ends up being more trouble than it's worth, he quits it with as great of gusto. As we talked about this friend, my car companion called him a "tortured soul," the kind of individual who keeps searching for happiness but will never allow themselves to be happy. After I thought about it a bit today, I think I disagree.

Honestly, I think most of us are just as "tortured"; we aren't really all that joy-filled. My friend's only abnormality is that he is more desperate for that happiness and more willing to do whatever it takes to find it. When he believes something will make him happy, he dives in will all he has. When it doesn't lead to joy, he quits with just at much passion and ponders the next path to take towards happiness.

I think it's a pretty common thing for people to be without joy. Most of us would say that we are pretty happy, but I think it's a cover. Facing a lack of joy is a heavy thing - to honestly assess one's life and realize that something is missing, despite all of our efforts, is a very scary scenario. So we take comfort in our comfort: we tell ourselves that for the most part, everything is okay, and that's the best anyone can hope for. Thoreau described this in his writing, saying that "Most men lead lives of quiet desperation. . ." The only difference between most of us and this friend is that this friend won't be quiet about his desperation. He actively pursues an end to it in the best way he knows how. To me that's probably far better than passively accepting mediocre comfort.

I should probably stop here and a few beliefs of my own driving what I'm saying:

1. Joy: must be long-lasting and passionate.
2. The only source of this kind of joy is God.
3. The ultimate purpose of a Christian life is to bring God glory.
4. God is glorified most when we have this joy.

Therefore: It is a sin to not have joy, to not passionately seek it with all your being. I must see God in everything to obtain this joy. I can't have this joy without God. I will continue to have a nagging desperation for this kind of joy (whether quiet or loud) for the rest of my life. I must choose what to do about this on a daily basis.

Bottom line: joy is hard work. Joy is elusive. Joy requires a lot from us. And joy is the only thing that will satisfy.

This comes to mind as I watch MANY of my close friends and family struggle with their own happiness as of late. It comes to mind as I look at the past couple of months and wonder just how much of it I spent filling joy-less hours because those hours were God-less. As I reflect and attempt to live purposefully and attempt to teach kids how to do the same and try to lead my family into the best life possible (a joy-filled one, I hope), getting joy figured out is essential.

If I'm going to exhibit self-control and be who I say I am, I've got to get more intentional about this joy. And I've got to get a lot more passionate about seeking it.

Prayer: A Response

This is a topic I've always intended to breach, but the timing was never right. My last post prompted prayer questions, though, so I'm going to take a break from the Titus series to explain some of my stances on prayer. I feel somewhat hypocritical, as my prayer life has not been great lately. However, perhaps this entry will spur me towards improvement.

What does prayer do for me?
Perhaps most importantly, prayer is a reminder to myself that I'm not God. If I'm praying, I'm taking the focus off of myself and recognizing the limited control I have. I'm recognizing my place as part of the world (or "the forest" to quote a previous blog post), not the center of it. Talking to the Sovereign Creator of the universe has a way of humbling a person and making that person want to be better. I get that from prayer.

Additionally, as Coach Gardner has been discussing on his blog (see: http://coachgsplaybook.blogspot.com/), it's an attempt to establish a relationship with Christ. I believe we indicate how much we value someone based on the amount of time we spend with them. We invest time in relationships to build them. This is a relationship I want to build. My ability to hear God is severely limited (if not incapacitated) when I'm not speaking with Him.

Also, it's a matter of obedience. God says to pray, so I pray. Same with fasting, with partaking in communion, with serving others, etc.

How do I pray?
One of the best things I started doing a couple of years ago is typing my prayers out. I've got a record of my prayer life over the past 7 years. Obviously it's great to look back and see those prayers as a record of God's faithfulness, but the main benefit for me is to keep me focused. When I pray randomly in my head, my mind wanders. When I'm typing to God, it's more purposeful.

What do I value?
More than anything else, I value authenticity. I believe so much Biblical evidence exists of God's displeasure with those who "praise him with their tongue, not with their heart." I don't want to waste words with God, say anything out of tradition or habit, or approach prayer half-heartedly. I want to be purposeful and honest. There have been times I've been angry or confused or frustrated with God, and I'm very honest about it in my prayer. I believe God wants real, not routine. The book of Psalms has a lot of that in it.

For that reason, I'm careful about when and why I pray. One thing I've struggled with is the Protestant tradition of praying before meals. I recognize the need to thank God for everything, but so many times I feel like people believe the food will turn to ash if it's not "blessed" with prayer. I don't want to pray because that's what is done before a meal. Prayer shouldn't be an obligation or a way of introducing that it's okay to eat now. We should absolutely thank God for food, but we should thank Him for every cup of coffee, every Diet Coke, every package of Nutty Bars, and every breath. I want the prayer to be real and authentic. My wife and I do pray before supper, but only because that's the one time we're together during the day and can pray together. For no other meals do I make it a must: I refuse to let obligation or tradition dictate when and how I talk to God

Additionally, it drives me nuts that in many church services, there are scheduled prayer times. The church bulletin says it's time to pray, so let's all dutifully bow our heads. I've also been in church services during which it feels like we can't move from one song to the next without a prayer. The praying becomes a transition. Prayer shouldn't be a transition - for me, I want to mean it when I speak with God.

On a related manner, that also affects things like the Lord's Prayer for me. Every time I say that, I try to slow it down and put in my mind what specifically I'm saying with each line:
- Hallowed be thy name: why am I honoring God today? What am I thankful for?
- Thy kingdom come, thy will be done: I trust you, God. I believe your will for my life is best, even if I'm not comfortable.
- Give us this day, our daily bread: What do I need today? What is the bread I need?
- Forgive us our trespasses: How have I erred lately?
- As we forgive those. . .: Am I willing to forgive?
- Lead us not into temptation: God, I know I'm tempted by this (fill in the blank). I will need your help to overcome this.

And on and on and on. The prayer has got to be purposeful and meaningful for me. I don't want to go through the motions. I fear that if I'm not diligent about remaining authentic with God, prayer becomes another checkmark on the to-do list.

I've got a thousand prayer issues that I deal with. I studied prayer for a summer, reading many of the major writers throughout history on the subject, trying to better understand it. And I continue to seek more info and to get better. I fail miserably at praying consistently during busy times (which is when I should be praying the most). I'm not good with praying with other people. There are many days during which, embarrassingly, I just don't know what to say to God. Certainly I don't have everything figured out.

These are just some thoughts on the topic now that it's come up. I believe there aren't enough real, honest conversations about this topic, and I'd love to have one here. Any commentary?