Thank you for your service...

The timing on this is somewhat of a coincidence. I’ve been mulling these ideas, even the title of this post for a while now. I do that a lot. Sometimes the ramblings of my mind make it onto paper. Many times they do not. Even fewer get let out…

So yes, this remembrance day, I want to thank you for your service…

Mrs. Hancock – 1^st grade teacher and lover of reading and gardening

Mr. Murray – 4^th grade teacher – first time to have a male teacher but more importantly perhaps plant the seed that I needed to be stretched further than was likely in a small one class per year level rural school

Mrs. Summers – 5^th grade teacher who challenged me to read classics and to speak in public

Brother Darryl – who in 6^th and 7^thgrades opened the door to drama

Mrs. Delaforce – who in 6^th and 7^thgrades opened the windows to singing

Ms. McLaughlin – who may have been a little crazy, but whose passion for English made it interesting again in senior years of high school, and also explored creativity through school musicals

Mr. Duffy – whose clarity and precision in math brought me close to perfection semester after semester

Mr. Kaplick – who got past an mind grounded in absolutes to enable me to grasp the more abstract concepts of physics

Mrs. O’Donnell – who freed me to discover music was about passion, not just precision (although a little precision never hurt)

Ms. Graham – who survived having me in senior chemistry and taught me to see the forest instead of the trees

Professor Vuckovich who managed not to give us lung cancer in his lectures or nicotine stained office, and while I cannot remember much of his petroleum engineering classes, will never forget his pearls of wisdom such as “You boys, you must remember this one thing. You will be mining engineers. You will marry nurses or school teachers – that is all”

And so I did, in fact, so many of our class did.

So yes – I may have a little bias here. Probably in interests of full disclosure, my mother was a teacher. My father also. One of my sisters still does. And but for a summer job that never ended during the mining slump of the mid 80s when I graduated with my mining engineering degree but no job prospects, I might have been. I didn’t go back to school to get my Dip. Ed. that next year…

I am not begrudging the honor shown our veterans or those in active service. Theirs is not an easy job. A good number of my close friends and family serve here too. Perhaps more so here in the USA, we hold these people in a special place, we feel it important to thank them for their service. But how often do we think to do the same for a teacher. Would they be worthy for example of being granted the comforts of an airport lounge while travelling. Or generous discounts on many goods and services. And I could go on – and to those whose business does acknowledge teachers and give them some sort of recognition, thank you!

I mean it is not like teachers are well paid. An officer (a degreed professional so similar in that respect to a teacher) in the US Army with regular promotions after the minimum time at each level makes close to three times what my wife makes some 20 or so years out of college. So to the past and present members of the armed services, indeed – thank you for your service. You most certainly earned and deserve what you have, and maybe more. Nothing can repay the ultimate sacrifice some have made – or the permanent scars both physical and mental that some live with as a sacrifice every day. So to be a teacher, while generally not putting yourself in harms way (far from a certainty in US schools sad to say), you are not doing it for the money - it is most definitely a gift of service.

So to those who taught us how to be anything we could be, to those who were both firm and patient, to those who inspired and cajoled, to those without whom my life would be one more ordinary…

From the depths of my heart, THANK YOU for your service

What Teachers Make

Beware the quiet one…

A little something I shared at out family celebration honouring our Jillian who turned 16 today!

Jilly is our baby – and so it is a little hard reaching this point.  In a couple of days she will most likely get her drivers license and will become even more independent.  That is of course assume she passes the test – it took her two attempts on the written!

But she will always be our baby – she was after all – and always will be, little. 

Maybe really we should say, beware the little one, because although to the larger population, many make the mistake of thinking she is quiet, really when you get to know her – she is anything but.

 

 

 

We have so many fond memories of Jilly. She has always been a bit of a mischief. Like watching carefully for her big sister to get all her dolls perfectly arranged – and then“accidentally” walking through the middle of them. 

Or colluding with her big sister after bed time in “You play, I play”.And there is also the doting little sister, who used to wait by the door for Mallory to come home from school – and then be a little disappointed when her sister needed some alone time to recharge her batteries.

 

But just because she was little – and appearing to be quiet, did not mean she did not have a great depth of strength and determination.  This has sometimes resulted in rather impressive standoffs – like the time in grade school when her space was interfered with and a substitute teacher refused to listen to her pleas resulting in a standoff to where the assistant principal was called in and phone calls were made to her mother, or the altercation over something at one of her birthday parties where again she refused to back down and spent time in her room. 

 

There was a meltdown with a coach in under 9’s hockey that led to her spending the rest of the game on the bench, a feat repeated in the 10^th grade in JV soccer where she felt the coach was picking on her and a friend and benched them.  The coach held out an olive branch – but of course Jilly outlasted her and sat in silence (well that part is probably debatable) on the bench for the entire game!  Given this game was in Kansas (well not literally – but close) and we had no idea what was going on, needless to say, we were not completely amused.  There was one time I remember I made the mistake of offering her a choice – between a nap or a spanking.  She without a moment’s hesitation asked for the spanking.  It is so hard not to laugh at Jillian at the most inappropriate moment in terms of parenting!  One thing is for sure – she has a mind of her own and just like her big sister – she will make her own decisions.

The great depth of strength and determination also shows up in some great ways.  She excels in school and really – most anything she puts her hand to.  This is a little different to Mallory, who also always does well, but has little time for things she does not find interesting.  Hockey of course outside of academics is clearly one of her passions – from the very earliest of days.  She was so disappointed when she went to the local club with a friend from across the street only to be told she was too young and needed to wait a year.  That young boy now plays for Australian age teams – so clearly the advantage of that year was significant!  But start the next year she did and they were oh so cute!  Her second year was of course the worst year of her life – I was her coach and Joy was her teacher in school.  Now of course she plays on arguably the strongest team Colorado has seen in high school completion for some years and is pondering options to keep playing even in college.

And so while she is about to turn 16 and become all grown up, we are glad that she like her big sister has grown into a beautiful young lady.  She is passionate, graceful – when she chooses to be, full of life, and always enjoys doing things with family and friends.  She loves for example babysitting her youngest cousins  - who of course adore her.  She also loves hanging out with friends and has really found her own voice.

Jillian, you have made the first 16 years of your life so memorable – we can’t wait to see what lies in store.  You may be little in stature, but you live life so much larger!

I set all my regrets on fire

In this moment now, capture it, remember it. You pull me in and I'm a little more brave, you take my hand and drag me headfirst, fearless.

Last night in Colorado ♥

Mallory / Taylor Swift

Music and Mallory have always seemed intertwined, so perhaps it was fitting that as we pulled into the parking lot at the airport this morning, this song and these particular lyrics were playing…

We are young

So let’s set the world on fire

We can burn brighter than the sun

Fun

Fitting indeed that the next chapter of what has already been an amazing life would be in New Mexico, “The Land of Enchantment”, whose state symbol is the Zia, symbolic to some of the original pueblo people as the sun.

Mallory’s last blog post (if that’s what you do on Tumblr) started with this quote

“The wild passion of letting yourself be transported by wind, by burning heat and by cold space… The pleasure of being anonymous, of being quiet for a long time, of existing in no place at all… The pleasure of leaving, of being far away, of being missing… The subtle pleasures of erasing the presence of your body, your words and your shadow, of counting for nothing, of hiding yourself, of becoming so light that you fly away…” Michel Sierres

I encourage you to read the whole thing (post titled “Now Boarding”) – and a lot of here other thoughts as well at

Now Boarding

In essence though, Mallory writes about the excitement she finds in airports, as much as anything because of the anticipation they hold – the promise of things to come.  Fitting too then that the quote she has chosen to reflect herself on Tumblr is from Henry David Thoreau;

We must learn to reawaken and keep ourselves awake, not by mechanical aids, but by an infinite expectation of the dawn

Today is hard.  I suppose I always knew it would be.  It was not something I was dreading and this past week – the culmination of a years of “lasts” has almost seemed anticlimactic.  Indeed, that Mallory is so ready for this is certainly helping a lot.  But bittersweet is just that.  Today is hard!

In the movie Saving Private Ryan, an elderly Ryan talking at the headstone of the leader of a group of soldiers who sacrificed his life as a young soldier getting Ryan out of the battlefield,

I tried to live my life the best that I could. I hope that was enough. I hope that, at least in your eyes, I've earned what all of you have done for me.

This and then the question he asks his wife,

Tell me I have led a good life.   …   Tell me I'm a good man.

have always been to me a question I always want to feel I am on the right side of – in effect – have I made a positive difference – did I do more good than harm…

Today we pass a milestone where in part I find out.  Mallory will always be my little girl, and I will always be her papa, but the formative days are largely done.  So largely I am find peace in the fact that Mallory will shine, continue to shine really.  Whatever small or large part I have had her doing that and becoming the beautiful young woman she is brings comfort to my soul.  As I said in a short speech I made at her Sweet 16 celebration not all that long ago when reflecting on the notion that our children are mirrors, reflecting the best and worst of our character, that with Mallory, sometimes I fear as a parent I may get too much credit and my many failings are obscured. 

It Goes by in a Flash

I am indeed, a fortunate father.

The Last Time You Pick Up Your Child

I get a daily email from “All Pro Dad”.  I signed up for this after reading Tony Dungy’s book on vacation a little over two years ago.  I started blogging that same vacation, but I doubt the two are connected.  The title of this blog was the title of their email yesterday with the following short thought:

If you stop and think about it, there will come a day when you will pick up your young child for the last time. And you won’t even know it.  But, soon in the future, they’ll be too big for you to lift.  So if you have young children, pick them up often.  Hug them.  Kiss them.  Savor it all.  These days will be gone before you know it. 

I don’t necessarily agree with all their thoughts, ideas or suggestions, but that’s hardly the point of this blog.  It struck me as more of an interesting coincidence that I had checked in earlier in the morning on Facebook from the Denver Diner where I was about to have breakfast with Mallory, our oldest.  It occurred to me as I posted that this might be the last of so many regular breakfast dates we have had at least monthly over many years before school (and separately also with Jillian, our youngest).  

It has evolved over time – when they were little, it was more of a weekend thing where I would take them to McDonalds which served a double purpose of hanging out with them and letting their mother sleep in (one of her favorite things).  Yes – even though I loathe McDonalds – it is hard to beat their playland for the little ones.  Initially I remember doing this with a work colleague Bob and his daughter Kat.  

As Jillian grew, and probably somewhat coincidentally about the time we moved to Australia when Jillian was three, it would mostly be with the two of them together.  Occasionally but probably not often before we left Australia, we started doing it on a school morning.  Since returning to Colorado 5+ years ago, it has been a regular planned date before school, each of them on their own, and at least once a month.  It has been important to me to make this time with my girls.  

So two weeks from today, Mallory will be done with high school and it is off to college.  We will probably continue to have our breakfast dates, but it is going to be evolving again.  So when I read this email from All Pro Dad, it struck me kind of hard.  We have enjoyed these dates.  Yesterday was no different – we chatted about nothing of great significance.  We talked about finals, her friends who have been house-sitting with her this past week, plans for her mission trip to the Dominican Republic this summer, mother’s day gifts, the vacation we have planned after school is out, my next work trip, her work schedule, plans for the weekend, the Denver Nuggets and so on.  As I said; nothing of great significance but yet all so vitally important.  Not because world changing events will necessarily happen as a result, but because we spent time chatting, investing in each others lives.

And then we were done, I paid the bill, kissed her on the cheek, and she was gone…

UPDATE October 19, 2012

The events of the last week or so brought this post back to my mind.  And not as you might think if you know I live in Denver in the shadow of the terrible tragedy of the loss of 10 year old Jessica Ridgeway - I think I am still in the denial phase of some sort of grief response on that - there are simply no words...

No, these were closer to home, more personal.

One of my best friends lost his father to cancer last Friday.  We all knew this was inevitable and coming soon.  I have no idea how you are supposed to deal with these things, but his wife was up in the mountains earlier in the week for a few days helping as had many of the family with the care in least days.  So I figured I grab some scotch (well Stranahans whiskey - a fine local drop that reminds me more of scotch than bourbon), a couple of cigars, head on over and see how things go.  We enjoyed a shot or two of scotch, but passed on the cigars this particular evening.  We talked about everything - an we talked about nothing.  Perhaps the discussion that got me the most was about the fishing trips to Willis Lake.  My friend now takes his "boys" (most are sons in law) up there say every other year - but when he was a boy, he, his brothers and his dad went every year - from 1955 to 1992.  He said thinking about things made this year's trip hard.  I went up to the mountains and attended the funeral yesterday.  It was a beautiful fall day - even the somewhat gusty winds couldn't take away the majesty that are the mountains of Colorado.  I stayed into the late hours of the afternoon getting to know more of his family that I had not met before (his is as large as Joy's - one of 8 kids if that helps those who don't know us as well) and allowing myself the communion of one beer at the wake before hitting the road home.  I am glad for friends like this and the mutual investment in each others lives and families that in this case now spans 16 years.

    (not my photo - credit to a guy named Steve)

The other event is less about investing in lives.  Mallory came home for fall break later in the week.  I picked her up from the airport and we went to "Grammies" for breakfast of scrumptious made from scratch (literally - this woman probably ground the flour) waffles and crab apple sauce (from trees in the front yard).  Then after dropping me at work, she headed off to start a fabulous weekend of catching up with friends.  And it was so great to have all those girls enjoying time together including a sleepover in our house again.  What I was not expecting though in the passage of this fun filled weekend was a call from one of those friends a few hours into her first day back saying they had been in an accident.  Some guy from out of town and looking at his GPS apparently veered hard into their lane shoving them off the road and into a substantial concrete median strip.  Both airbags had popped and Mallory was receiving medical attention - her arm hurt.  Fortunately both Mallory and her friend were wearing seat belts, and the sore arm was little more than a memory the next day.  They say lucks a fortune... I spent over $1,200 on that car the day before.  The car will almost certainly be a write off but Mallory and her friend (we joke her friends are like adopted daughters) are totally OK.  I'll take that outcome any day... but it does remind you "Hug them.  Kiss them.  Savor it all." 

Oh - and it also provided a valuable life lesson on why a scooter while very cute might not be such a great idea :)

Musings on Good Friday...

I was all out of sorts this morning, which was more than a little disturbing.  It was not because my wife and older daughter were heading to Chicago for a girls getaway – I will miss them – but I’m going to have a lot of fun hanging out with just my younger daughter.  It was because I didn’t have to go to work.  Although Good Friday is not all that widespread a holiday in the USA (which seems an odd if not ironic contrast to my upbringing in much more unchurched Australia), this year, we were graciously given the day off.  Have I become that dependent on work?  Am I a workaholic?  Scary stuff…

Anyway, I got over that quick enough and have been pottering around the house taking care of this and that.  This post is an expansion of some of the quotes I have favorited away on Facebook/Twitter from various friends.  I posted them on my Facebook page and re-tweeted them as a #gf rather than #ff as I mused on what Good Friday is all about.  In this post, along with the quote, I may – or may not depending on my mood, explain why the quote meant something to me.

“Personally, I don't have the guts to follow Jesus, so I often settle for being a Christian.”

unknown, via Brandon Mouser

So if you saw my original list on Facebook it is obvious I am reordering it.  There is probably no particular significance to the order in either – it just appeals to my sense of chaos.  Brandon is a neat young man introduced to me through the roots that have me writing under the Monica “Ruined for Life”.  He is the son-in-law of an amazing couple, Ron and Nancy Thaxton who have loved, challenged, cared and pastored my wife and I since the early days of our marriage nearly 20 years ago in West Virginia.  I’m pretty sure Brandon said this, but claimed to be quoting an unknown source.  It sounds like he would have something the guts to say though so that fact it resonated with him is not surprising.  I suspect for many of us willing to be honest about our faith, this could resonate equally strongly.  Today of all days, I am reminded of the gap between the Jesus who is, and the person I am.  That is why I am leading with this quote.

“Love is not a victory march. It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah”

Leonard Cohen ( via Jodi-Renee Adams)

Have always loved this song – and I am simply unable to express why there is something in this statement that resonates so strongly in me with Good Friday.  So what I will say is that I think one of my favorite renditions of it was KD Lang at the 2010 winter Olympics opening ceremony in Vancouver.  I suspect I would enjoy hearing Jodi sing is also.

SUPERGROUP!

“God doesn't love you because God loves everyone. God loves you because God loves you.”

Khad Young

“God doesn't want something from us. He simply wants us.” - CS Lewis

“There was never a time when God was not in love.”

Brennan Manning (via Mary Kathryn Tyson)

“No matter what ANYONE says; you are worthy! God loves you. No matter how shitty we've been.”

Jon Hedgecorth

“God is closer than we are to ourselves: nothing is more intimate than God's love.”

Henri Nouwen

“God is not in love with a future version of us... He loves us right where we are today.”

Billy Lloyd

I would not want you to think from my earlier comment on the gap between the Jesus who is, and the person I am that I am I see myself as some hopeless wretch.  I would also not want you to think I think more highly of myself than I ought.  But this to me is central to the events we mark this day.  I hear often that “God loves us more than we could ever deserve”.  I get the point, but I’m not sure it’s great theology.

In a recent discussion sparked by Frank Paul Green, adjunct faculty at George Fox Seminary, Franks opening discussion on this notion included the point that

“"God so loved the world" is the greatest statement concerning value, significance and worthiness. To suggest otherwise would be an oxymoron ... a self-contradiction.”

My response to this is that I think at its narrowest, I had to ask myself this - if I do not deserve God's love, then how do my children deserve mine?  The later question is of course preposterous - and recognizing that the world is imperfect and sadly, even tragically for some, this idea that I do not deserve my parents love has been a cruel reality, I think for many, perhaps most, the idea framed in this way would suggest what I deserve has nothing to do with whether OR how much God loves me.

I’m not a theologian so all of this needs to be taken with a grain of salt, but to extend the argument further, if God loves me more than I deserve, how is that just.  If God is not just, is he God at all?  Pretty soon we are getting into the really murky waters that even trained theologians fear to tread.  And so to my next quote…

“Every time theologians tell us what God can and cannot do, is or is not, they create an idol – an impression of an aspect of God that they can understand because it has limits. But God has no such limits.”

Neil Christopher

and related to this…

"Never think you need to protect God. Anytime you think you need to protect God, you can be sure that you are worshiping an idol." - Hauerwas

Simply this – I have no idea why Jesus did what he did?  It seems like the most extravagant gesture.  Was it really because he loved me; the singular me; that much, in spite of the presumption that I don’t deserve it?  I really don’t know.  But I will say this.  I really don’t believe the central purpose of Jesus coming to earth was to die for our collective or my personal sin.  He came to restore relationship with all of us – all with no exceptions – because of this unfathomable (and if it must be so to you, undeserved) love.  The cross was how he achieved this purpose – not the point or the purpose itself. 

GAMECHANGERS

“Love doesn't need to win because it is not competing with hate. It already won at Calvary. We are here to simply let the world know that.”

Jeremy Ritch

“God does have a way of combating evil. It’s not punishment and it’s not retaliation, fear or anger. It’s forgiveness. Forgiveness is God’s way of combating evil.”

Nadia Bolz-Weber

WOW!  Just let these soak in –let them stir your soul and you figure it out. 

DOUBLING BACK

“I didn’t go to religion to be happy. If you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable, I don’t recommend Christianity.”
CS Lewis

“Kinda over Christianity but I love Jesus.”
Rebecca Bec Cranford-Smith

You think there was any way to order these quotes!?!  In truth, they are an incredibly interwoven mass of ideas in my mind, and that’s just fine with me.  Sorry if none of this makes any sense to you – but I’m guessing if it was too crazy, you wouldn’t still be reading…  Doubling back then simply to say that these have close ties to my opening gambit; that I don't have the guts to follow Jesus, so I often settle for being a Christian.  Carry on…

(Oh – and I may be the first person to quote Bec as “Cranford-Smith” – congrats Bec J )

“Life is short and fragile. Love wastefully.” - Crystal Lewis

How much simpler could you emulate Good Friday than this…

“What if when Jesus said, "do good to those that oppose you & spitefully abuse you" he meant... do good to those that oppose you & abuse you?”

John Jensen

An object lesson – we say stuff like this, but we do the opposite.  Our own misplaced sense of our rights has us constantly at odds with people with whom we disagree, who disagree with us, or whom we just plain cannot stand.  Jesus spoke of a different way, and his actions on this day showed he meant it.  Sometimes it’s so much easier to settle for being a Christian…

“Soon we must all face the choice between doing what is right and what is easy.”

Albous Dumbledour / JK Rowling

When I watched Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ (something I have only done in whole once), I was struck whether intentionally by the moviemakers take on things or not during the carrying of the cross that as much as Jesus may have been tempted in his 40 day sojourn at the beginning of his ministry, perhaps it paled compared to the temptation he must have felt at this point.  Got nothing to back it up – just a thought…

“God's care for humanity was so great that he sent his unique Son among us, so that those who count on him might not lead a futile and failing existence, but have the undying life of God Himself.”

John 3:16 Dallas Willard translation

Thank you!

And now someone else words in song
Beautiful Scandalous Night

Memorial Day Ramblings

It was kind of odd to ponder over a dinner date with my bride last night that this time last week (give or take some hours due to time zones) I was wandering the aisles of a farmers market in Turkey followed after a stroll by an enjoyable light meal on the covered patio of a nearby café. Covered was important as I was treated to a thunderstorm – I love the rain.


During my flight that day up from South Africa, I got to stop briefly in Dubai and then Doha. And while those skylines (particularly Dubai) were just as amazing as all the documentaries, it was an article I read in an Australian newspaper of all things in the lounge in Doha that kind of weaves this tangled mess of thoughts together, at least in my head, if not on paper.

The article covered the funeral the previous day of one Claude Choules, accepted as being the last known surviving combatant of the Great War as it was originally known – before even greater horrors descended and we decided to number them. Claude served in the British navy, but moved to Australia shortly after the war and lived there the rest of his very long life of some 110 years. So he was not the last “digger” as the Australian servicemen were known, but having lived in Australia for over 80 years the ties are strong. Coincidentally, longevity is at the forefront of our family this past week with the 100th birthday of my wife’s great aunt Mert.

It occurred to me that the changes Aunt Mert and this man had seen over the course of their lives are almost unimaginable. Those I have witnessed in my 40 odd years are amazing enough.

I mean, here I was in Qatar on the Arabian Peninsula. This area had been ruled in one sense or another by any number of foreign powers over the centuries and was the subject of a treaty between the British and the Ottomans at the beginning of the war. I was on my way to Turkey, where I hope one day to visit the beaches of Gallipoli where Australia in many senses found some sense of national identity and as a fledgling nation, stood up and was counted on the world stage. The bravery and valor of the men on both sides is undiminished by the stupidity and the sheer pointlessness of the combat in which they were pitted against each other. I had started the day in South Africa, a country that has undergone tremendous upheaval, and which I had been fortunate to visit some 21 years previous and just after the release of Nelson Mandela from his long imprisonment.

Sometimes I think I am at risk of taking my life for granted. I am incredibly fortunate to have travelled the world, mostly on someone else’s tab. I have had the amazing opportunity to have worked on every continent although I am excluding Antarctica – hardly anyone gets to work there, but that would be awesome. My current passport less than five years old bears stamps to that effect with the exception in that period of Asia. And it has about run out of pages with space for stamps. I guess for me, the travel associated with my job has become normal, at least in the sense that it is something I do regularly – it is a normal part of my life.

But I do realize that for most people, the travels that are part of my job are anything but normal. It is sobering to think that particularly for men like Claude Choules more than 90 years ago, were it not for a war, they may never have seen much in the way of foreign soil. And a long and dangerous journey by sea voyage was more than likely not going to be required. No hopping on a plane on Friday night in Johannesburg to wake up to sunrise the next morning over a middle eastern city for all the world more modern and contemporary than most in the USA.

So this Memorial Day, I will remember a generation now forever gone who gave their all in the Great War and in the peace and hard times of the depression years that followed must have hoped they had done enough to never see the like of it again. A generation who must have felt in some ways utterly betrayed when the world was again engulfed in another conflict of unimaginable horrors. A generation whose own children were thrown into the fray of that 2nd global conflict and have been tagged “The Greatest Generation”.

I am not sure what makes one generation greater than another, but the words of the poem Invictus by William Ernest Henley and made famous in a movie of the same name ring in my ear. For me they are a glimpse of how one might have mentally survived the trials and tribulations of these and unfortunately so many other wars waged since. But this is not an argument over who has suffered the most. Has a mother who lost her child to drug abuse, suicide, or being beaten to death for being different suffered any less than the mother of a fallen soldier? Is the person shackled by poverty or prejudice even in this country of such riches and opportunity any less unjustly imprisoned than Mandela? Instead of the haunting strains of Taps or the Last Post then, I find hope and courage for what lies ahead in these words…


Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.


In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.


Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.


It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.


Invictus
William Ernest Henley

To The Nurses

Compiling this has been a while in coming and is long overdue, but here we go. As probably most people who know me are aware, my mum (or mom in US lingo) had a very serious accident just before Christmas (2010). After we understood the situation it worked out that I could go back to Australia for three weeks right after New Year.

My life was enriched just weeks before the accident when I was fortunate enough to spend a weekend with an amazing bunch of people loosely known as “Outlaw Preachers”. To feel so connected to 30-40 people, none of whom I had ever met face to face before is an amazing testament to their lives. Perhaps I will have more to say on that another day. In any event, when I am away from home, I tend not to broadcast it widely on Face Book and the like. I’m not paranoid about it and things get posted which is fine, but I just don’t say a lot that way. Other than some rushed direct communication then with various friends before I left for Australia, many were unaware of the whole situation.

There is a very effective bush telegraph however amongst the Outlaw Preachers (whose number is far greater than the 30-40 I met) so along with the ourpouring from my long time friends who were aware of the situation, the love and support from these folk was something I cherished during my weeks in Australia. One of the Outlaws, Rebekah is a nurse, and I was moved by something she posted on my wall and my experiences spending hours at the hospital. So I penned a note and distributed it mostly to Outlaw friends via Face Book message rather than a more public broadcast.

While no doubt there are other nurses I have known who are also very special people, my mind sometimes forgets these details but I will single out longtime friends Kristen and Nancy whom we met in our sojourn in New Mexico, and Debbie whose whole extended family were like a second family to me when I first moved to Colorado so many years ago. This then is a somewhat tidied up version of that message written a day or so after my mum came out of ICU, with a few of the amazingly touching responses tied in.


I wanted simply to share how impressed I had been by the nursing and other care giving staff in the hospital. I’m not real good at knowing how which type of Christian prays particularly – I’ve wandered through many parts of Christianity and have shied away from identifying with anything smacking of denominationalism (wow that is long, is it even a word?). But it occurs to me I’ve heard much prayer asking for God to guide the doctors, which often occurs to me in more cynical moments as “God I’m really not sure You are up to the healing I just asked for, but at least lend a hand would You”.


Apologies if that is sacrilegious or offends, sometimes I try not to be, but you just have to get used to me. Sometimes the nurses get tacked on, but mostly it’s the doctors. So don’t get me wrong, the doctors are vitally important, but I’ve probably seen / spoken to a doctor less than 5% of the now many hours I’ve spent in hospital, and while I haven’t spent a lot of time in hospitals recently, that would be consistent when visiting friends and such in for one reason or another.


But the nurses and other care givers, they are there a lot, and they have to take care of all sorts of things, some apparently trivial, many are routine, some to me at least anything but pleasant. It would appear from some of Bek’s posts / tweets that they see and hear some pretty amazing things as well – requests to “slap the shit out of me” must fit into some special category.


I am convinced of a few things then. God does heal. Sometimes it is out and out miraculous, and often it is through the care of the medical profession. The doctors (mum now seeing in addition to “regular” doctors a bevy of physios, speech pathologists and occupational therapists) have an amazing ability to step into the breach and do incredible things to save a life, reverse the damage of some injury or other and set a person on a course for healing.


But the nurses and other care givers I suspect have the major role in bring a person back to wholeness, especially in an extended hospital stay. I don’t know how many hours I and others in my family have spent at mums bedside these past weeks. It’s a lot for sure and this too is important for her healing, but it pales I am certain compared to the hours put in by the nurses, especially in the ICU where they seemed to have one per patient at times, no worse than one per two patients, but that may just have been when things were “stable” to cover breaks and the like. The nurses love the patients back to wholeness. I suppose there is a whole spectrum of emotion attached to the notion of loving the patient, but I will stand by that statement.


They love them with their constant attention. No detail or request it appears is not worth their efforts.


They love them by genuinely caring for their well being.


They love them in the tenderness with which they attend to them.


They love them by doing their best to give them dignity, no matter what their circumstance.


They love them with tough love, firmly but insistent about doing the things that promote their recovery, or not doing the things that hinder it.


They love them by talking to them about a million unimportant things.


They love them by coming by and gushing over the beautiful roses that came from a garden only recently under their care, their beautiful grandchildren and the like.


They love them in countless other ways I have not begun to think of or realize


To Bek and all the other nurses and caregivers in hospitals here and around the world, a huge and heartfelt thank you.


I was tempted to try and weave excerpts from some of the responses mostly in the form of additional tributes to nurses into my original note, but I’m just not that creative, and it would probably take away from both, so a selection follow:

Bek.
Sometimes I get really discouraged in my job, and you don't know how much it means to me to hear this.

Jeff.
I can attest to every one of those "love statements". When I was recovering from quadruple bypass surgery, it was the nurses that made all the difference in the world in my recovery. I have a "heart pillow" (used for rehab) that I had them all sign and I will treasure it as long as I live. Rebekah: you and those in your profession are the TRUE "pastors". Bless you all.

Maria.
In the time I have spent in hospitals and nursing homes, the nurses have been such a source of genuine love in the middle of very difficult situations, as well. I'm sorry for the way that gets taken for granted or ignored as hurting people vent anger at them directly.

Stephanie.
Although not a nurse by trade, your words illuminate so beautifully the particularities of this valued (& oft under-noticed) profession. Thank you, Bek & others, for what you do!

And, Peter, your words further highlight how the simplest things can have such profound impact on others' lives... May we each, in various aspects of the caring professions, minister well in the small & large moments given to us.

Pat.
I have had 4 surgeries in my life...and the nurses kept me sane and saw to my recovery.

It was a tough as nails and loving as all get out nurse who dealt with me in 2006 when I had my heart attack and helped me grow up and also get out of my funk or tasting mortality..which shook me up.

It was a nurse who firmly protected my wife and kicked an a-hole of a doctor out of the delivery room the day my daughter was born and got a more professional doctor to be in the delivery room who would respect patient rights.

It was a nurse who was my partner in crime in keeping my daughter calm when she had to have 7 staples in her head after a gym class injury.

In each of these there is a longer story...but your story is too lovely and heart wrenching...I just wanted to add to the appreciation and love and admiration for the heroes.


And so to wrap up the story…

My mum continues to recover. Shortly after I returned from Australia she was released from hospital to a rehab facility where she has continued to recover. As I understand it (and I don’t know all the exact details) she will soon be released from rehab to home. She had an overnight “home visit” last weekend as an interim step in that direction.
My mum will be turning 70 later this year, so that now being relatively young, in some ways it is hard to accept the possibility that she will never fully recover. But that while hard, it is a very real possibility. It will probably be hardest for my dad, for he has always been both driven and tormented by knowing just how things needed to be, and yet, they may never again be as he had expected. I am more my mother’s son in that regard. As I shared with a friend this morning, “There is a God, and I am not Him”. Perhaps the “serenity prayer” sums that up better for others. That does not mean I do not cry out to God, but I do know that one day, all things will be restored – whether in this life or the next is up to Him.

What Makes My Heart Sing

As church this morning, we listened to a beautifully simple dialogue on grace; at least that is what it was for me. The passage was from John’s gospel, the first 11 or 12 verses of the 8th chapter. My bible titles this passage rather austerely; “An Adulteress Faces the Light of the World”. My takeaways from this are:

Jesus doesn’t ignore wrongdoing, but He is so connected at a heart level to us when we have failed and are buried in guilt. He approaches the situation from the heart, in relationship, not via a set of rules or religious principles.

Jesus doesn’t say if you are the senior or most respected church leader, you get to judge and condemn someone who has done the wrong thing.

Jesus doesn’t say if you are the most religious person, you get to look down on someone who has done the wrong thing.

Jesus simply says, “The one who has done no wrong among you, go first: Throw the stone.”

Jesus after every one has drifted away asks her, “Woman, where are they? Does no one condemn you?” And when she answers “No one”, Jesus says two things. Firstly, “Neither do I.” Jesus came to mend a broken relationship with us which we were created to have with Him in the first place. Condemnation does not mend relationships, grace does, love does, caring at a heart level does… And Jesus caring about our heart, which does so poorly when laden with guilt or shame, also says, “Go on your way. From now on, don’t do the wrong thing.”


Hallelujah, grace like rain falls down on me
Hallelujah, all my stains are washed away, washed away

(Warning, awesome song but clips from The Passion of the Christ are a little graphic and may be disturbing to some)

With the arrival of Jesus, the Messiah, that fateful dilemma is resolved. Those who enter into Christ’s being-here-for-us no longer have to live life under a continuous low lying black cloud. A new power is in operation. The Spirit of life in Christ, like a strong wind, has magnificently cleared the air, freeing you from a fated lifetime of brutal tyranny at the hands of sin and death. (Eighth chapter of Paul’s letter to the Romans, first 2 verses)
But here is the thing. It doesn’t matter whether you are the self righteous judgmental type who thinks you have it all right and looks down on others because somehow their wrongdoing is worse than your own, or you know you have screwed up and are burdened with guilt and shame – or really anywhere on the spectrum in between. Jesus loves EVERYONE! It is not conditional, it is not based on anything we have done, or can do.

As the church, we are not always so great at this. Nick suggested this morning that grace is something everybody needs, and that the church should be a place they can find it. OK, maybe “not always so great” is being a bit kind. My gut reaction when Nick said this to be honest was that we suck at it. Thankfully however, Jesus is better than that. Jesus grace is not reserved for any particular person; no type of person, no color of person, no race.

And that is what makes my heart sing.

My chains are gone
I've been set free
My God, my Savior has ransomed me
And like a flood His mercy rains
Unending love, Amazing grace

It Goes By In A Flash

To borrow a comment from my wife's last blog, also posted several months ago, "I kind of stink at blogging right now". Time is ever fleeting and I wish I could say I have not wasted the time here or there that I could have used to assemble the collage of thoughts that run through my head into something that might be interesting, if only for my benefit.

But the occasion of Mallory's 16th birthday and an fairly well executed surprise party required me to make a short speech. I was not sure how well I would do at that in terms of riding a wave of emotion, so I set out to capture the thoughts I wanted to convey in writing. Having done this, it is I suppose now something that I can publish. The photos are from a slide show (funny we use that term still - I wonder if Mallory or many of her 16 year old friends have ever seen a real 35mm "slide"?) Joy and I, well mostly Joy assembled to run in the background throughout the evening.

In Recognition of MalloryNovember 10, 2010

Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined.
(Henry David Thoreau)

Even as a baby the brightest - and most mischievous of smiles as she threw herself into everything with great enthusiasm!

The first of many sporting adventures. Also that classic Mallory look - "Are you serious? You think I'm going to do what?"

Self confident and an attitude that she can conquer about anything.

They say our children are mirrors, reflecting the best and worst of our character.

With Mallory, sometimes I fear as parents we may get too much credit and our many failings are obscured. As she has matured into a young woman these past few years, we have marveled at how she has grown in confidence, grace and godliness. We have also realized that as parents we are largely past the phase where we influence and mould her character, and we are now mostly in a care and maintenance role, providing a little guidance here or there.

I have thought about how in some small way we have influenced Mallory, and three things we have done openly and obviously come to mind:
1. Joy and I have loved God and struggled (in a good way) to find meaning, reality and purpose in our faith,
2. As husband and wife, we have grown more and more deeply in love with each other and we let that affection show, and
3. As parents, we have unreservedly loved both of our children.

I am not sure how much these things have mattered, but I guess I like to think they have. But in some way, Mallory as with all other children was created to be the special and unique person she is. All we have done is loved her and given her the freedom to become that person. I think this really hit home when she went to Haiti for most of the summer last year. Different people asked me if I was worried about her going off there and I realized that I was not. She was in God’s hands. She always had been. We had just been given the blessing of raising her as a child.

I could spend a long time describing what it is we love about Mallory. But one of the great things about Mal is you know who she is and so I don’t really need to spend a lot of time telling you. She is confident in who she is and makes friends easily. She is not a wallflower or some quiet church mouse hiding in the shadows. Rather, she is always somewhere near the center of whatever is going on.

She is not shy. Whether or not you like it, you will know how she feels about what is going on, and if she doesn’t like it, she will not only say so, she will try to do something about it. We love her passion, her energy and how she embraces life. We also love her tender spirit, her practical faith, and the strength of her convictions, especially that she hates injustice.

All of you here have in some way been a part of her life, some for a long time, some of you for less than a year. You are all in some way impacting Mal, and being impacted by her. We want to thank you so much for joining with us in celebrating “finally” her sweet 16th.

And so to Mallory I say;

You have found your voice, and you are writing your own songs. Stay true to that voice.

Wealthy Beyond Imagination

From My Journal, May 26th, 2010
Proverbs 1-3, Romans 7
Scripture: Proverbs 1:19
So are the ways of everyone who is greedy for gain;
It takes away the life of its owners.
Observation:I was driving yesterday and there was a song on the radio with repetitive lyrics along the theme of “I want to be rich”. By the wonders of Google, I have discovered that this is sung by an artist with the name “Calloway” and the words (and title of the song) are in fact “I wanna be rich”. Anyway – it got me to thinking about:

• How rich is rich enough,
• Am I rich enough,
• How would being rich be different, and so on.

I came to the conclusion that we are always comparing against others. I am rich in worldly terms – from various statistics I have heard quoted, probably somewhere in the top 10%, maybe 5% (or better) of world population in terms of material wealth. Not bad huh – so why don’t I feel rich. Because when I compare what I have amassed against that of others – and someone will always have a bigger pile.

So in simply material terms, am I rich enough – the answer would have to be yes. But if I were even richer, well then – I could have MORE stuff – but I don’t have room for all my stuff now – especially the stuff I never use, so I would need a bigger house – and so the futile striving continues… how long until the absurdity of this sinks in?

What if I measured wealth differently? Do I measure wealth differently? I think in part I do, but part of me still likes to compare also.

Do I measure wealth by the love I have known – from my wife, my children, my family and my friends. If I was to do this and this alone, I would know how wealthy I really am.
But better yet than this, I know the love of God. I know that:
"God's care for humanity was so great that he sent his unique Son among us, so that those who count on him might not lead a futile and failing existence, but have the undying life of God Himself."
(John 3:16 Dallas Willard translation)

Because I know this, I have life – my life is not being taken away.

Because God created me for the primary purpose of relationship with Him. The fall damaged this, the fall alienated me from God, from His creation, from other people – even from myself. But through Jesus, these broken relationships are restored - forever.

Praise God!

Action:So more counting my blessings – and less comparing to others. That’s it really.
And maybe a different song in my head – one of my favorite lyrics from “By Your Side” by Tenth Avenue North…

Why are you still searching, as if I’m not enough
Prayer:Lord, help me not only to realize how rich I am, but to act like I am rich and give what makes me wealthy away.

Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due,
When it is in the power of your hand to do so.Proverbs 3:27.

Reflections from the Christensen Family in Littleton

This was written as a Christmas letter just before I started blogging. It was such an eventful year for us full of emotional highs and lows. We sang a song a week ago in church that has meant so much to me in the wake of the events of just on a year ago when our sister in law Karla went home to our only true home in heaven - Blessed Be Your Name by Matt Redmann. Then on the web journal / blog of a good friend Phil McCallum, there it was again. It made me think of what I had written, and decided to use it as the subject matter of a blog, trying to be a little creative with music video as that had been a theme in the letter. Now if you were not as inept as I at the art of blogging and such, you could probably make the music video links pop up in a new window. But me - not so much, so you'll just have to hit the back button after the video to return to the blog. Enjoy...

What an interesting year this has been. It seems to have flown by such as the days do when you have so much going on you fall into bed exhausted at the end of them. So as in years past, here is a snapshot of our 2009. Some of you will have been very close to our goings on, and for others well, maybe we will get to see more of you next year. As our friends are scattered all over the world however, this is just the way of things.

An early highlight was a weekend in the mountains with three other families near the Sol Vista ski resort. It is after all not just what you do, but who you do it with that matters. The Ezman, Papay and Wilkin families have become an intimate part of our life and this was a fun weekend of skiing, kids being kids, cards, and just hanging out.


And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but it's sinking

And racing around to come up behind you again

Time - Pink Floyd

Somewhere about this time, we also threw an “Australia Day” party. We invited people to come as you would if you were in Australia (where January means sweltering midsummer heat) and a good number rose to the occasion venturing out in beachwear or Steve Irwin attire on a chilly winters evening. Peter did “prawns on the barbie”, we served vegemite on toast and fairy bread – and a good time was had by all.

Our family suffered a terrible loss early in the year with the sudden and unexpected passing of our sister in-law Karla. No matter what we believe and how strong our faith, we all struggle with an event like this. Perhaps the words of her oldest daughter Courtney say it best…

"There was a plan for my mom's life, and I believe that it's still in the works (it'll be a legacy). There's not been a single mistake in any of this. I am so blessed to see firsthand God's grace, comfort, peace, and most of all, organization. He is good, and his fruits endure, even in the midst of tragedy."

All of these lines across my face

Tell you the story of who I am

So many stories of where I've been

And how I got to where I am

But these stories don't mean anything

When you've got no one to tell them to

It's true...I was made for you

The Story - Brandi Carlile

This year the girls saw their first snow days – which meant they got to spend not 1, but 2 days just before spring break snuggled up at home, instead of at school. Joy thinks Peter knows something he is not telling as he was out of town (stranded as flights into Denver were mostly cancelled) not only for this sump of heavy spring snow, but also when it happened AGAIN in the fall! Oh well – shoveling is good exercise and the driveway thankfully is not too long (easy for Peter to say when he is stuck in Dallas!). The puppies love the fresh snow – but then they don’t do any shoveling either.

Well we have been back in Denver and in our own home for two years so we embarked on our first major home renovation project. We love to entertain – there is something special about bringing people together from all the diverse parts of our lives in informal gatherings and just seeing what happens. But our kitchen was frankly, not very well laid out – and as everybody knows – parties invariably congregate around the kitchen. The new kitchen is largely in thanks to a lot of help and great advice from Joy’s brother Jeff and our brother in-law Mike. It looks great and gives that part of the house a completely different feel. Peter still has some trim and finish work to do – and now that the weather has turned colder; and outdoor pursuits such as hockey, soccer and golf are pretty much done for a while; this will soon be underway. Joy LOVES her new kitchen!

But there never seems to be enough time


To do the things that you want to do


Once you find them

Time in a Bottle - Jim Croce


Sport is something Peter enjoys, something Jillian seems to inherited from him, and if it involves a social aspect – something Mallory can also enjoy. This year Jilly got back into field hockey bringing a new dimension to our lives. In May she played with an under 12 mixed team from Colorado in the “Cal Cup” a large tournament in LA. The kids did amazingly well, competing mostly against club teams who have been together for some time and were only just held out finishing runners up. She and two other girls from this team were invited to play with a high school team (girls 3-6 years older) in the Colorado State games where they also finished runners up (Peter played with an adult team in this tournament also – they did not fare so well!). After playing in some summer programs, Jilly was nominated for the US Field Hockey Association “Futures Program” which will be some top level coaching – and more weekends come the new year – oh well – she loves it. Mallory decided to give field hockey a go also (having played one season in Australia) and played on the JV team for Golden high school. She had a great time, making new friends as she always does, and even picked up a few skills along the way. Both girls are now playing in a winter indoor league.

My best friend gave me the best advice

He said each day's a gift and not a given right

Leave no stone unturned, leave your fears behind

And try to take the path less traveled by

That first step you take is the longest stride

If Today Was Your Last Day - Nickleback

If this song lyric fits anyone in our family, it would be Mallory. Mal informed us at the beginning of the year that she really wanted to go on a missions trip – didn’t know where – didn’t know what she would be doing – but she wanted to do it. She has a sensitive spirit and a genuine desire to care for others. This led to her spending almost 8 weeks this summer with a team that went to Haiti to assist in building an orphanage for Hope in the Light Ministry. Her team was organized and prepared through a youth short term mission organization, Teen Missions International. It should come as no surprise that going from our comfortable middle class life in an American suburb, to working (hard) in one of the poorest nations in the world was an eye opening and life changing experience. We were fortunate that we could tie into her initial training in Florida by going out with here a week in advance and enjoying a relaxing family holiday at Cocoa beach.

While Mal was in Haiti, some extremely affordable tickets were available for travel to Australia, and this turned into a 2nd unplanned family vacation in the short gap between Mal coming back from Haiti, Jilly’s summer of hockey, and the start of the school year. We had such a great time – Brisbane provided the best mid winter weather imaginable, the kids got to go to the Ekka (a huge “state fair”) and we spent a lot of time enjoying the company of family and friends. We were truly blessed to have been able to do this and that if fit into an otherwise crazy summer schedule.


Since the resumption of school, we have Joy working quite a lot as a substitute teacher, Peter and Joy operating a 24/7 taxi service (although Mallory will have her drivers license learners permit next week – can you believe that), the girls involvement in soccer, hockey, choir, piano and of course a jam packed social schedule and once in a while, Peter and Joy enjoying some adult company – either with each other or with some of the many good friends we have made or reconnected with in returning to Denver.

God has woven an incredible web for our lives with friends; reconnecting with ones from West Virginia, Farmington, and Australia. We enjoyed spending some time in Oklahoma to celebrate the wedding of Laurel and Chris – Laurel being the daughter of Phil and Leslie, pastors of an amazing church we were part of in Australia. We also were able to spend some time on this trip with Joy’s older brother Jerry who lives in Tulsa – and are very much looking forward to an unprecedented third family vacation in Cancun just before Christmas with most of Joy’s family to celebrate Jerry’s 50th.

Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's "all as it should be"
Blessed be Your name

And blessed be Your name

On the road marked with suffering

Though there's pain in the offering

Blessed be Your name

You give and take away You give and take away

My heart will choose to say Lord, blessed be Your name

I will bless Your name

Blessed Be Your Name - Matt Redman

Our blessings this year – even a year of great loss - have been many. As Mallory got to see firsthand in Haiti – we are amazingly blessed to live in the comfort we do. We have been blessed also by the birth of Reese, Mike and Jenny’s first child and our youngest nephew. And we look forward to the arrival of the next generation – our oldest niece Courtney and her husband Adam are expecting their first in the New Year.

We hope and pray this Christmas will be merry and blessed for you.

Peter, Joy, Mallory and Jillian