My mom, Danika and I have been in Salt Lake City for the past few days attending a convention and visiting family. There is a brand new mall here in Salt Lake called City Creek that took the place of two older malls across the street from each other. Naturally, I wanted to see it. Yesterday we finally had the chance. After our last session at the convention we walked up a few blocks and entered the mall from Nordstrom—the only visible store from where we were. Exiting Nordstrom on the other side was like entering into another world. There are only two words I can think of to describe this (outdoor)mall adequately—High Class. It was pristine, there was a fountain that filled your ears with the peaceful sound of rushing water. There was a Porsche Design store in this mall. I didn't know those existed... Of course, I was wearing my peaked lapel suit, rockin' a full windsor and my D&G shades so I fit right in. My mom and Danika were both dressed to a T as well coming from the convention.
We didn't go through any stores, just walked around in awe while making our way to the street that divides the two sections of the mall. There is even a sky bridge that connects them. When we got there, my mom began explaining to Danika and I the history behind this location—she grew up in Salt Lake City—and what had been there before. That's when we saw, Ron. He was sitting on the sidewalk using the pole of a street sign as a backrest. Wearing a green hat, white T-shirt, black jeans, and a pair of low-top converse shoes, he held a sign in front of him that read: Out of work, please help—God bless was written underneath. The three of us removed our sunglasses, went over and sat next to him on the sidewalk. We introduced ourselves, and with his head down and the bill of his hat covering his eyes he told us his name. We asked him if he wouldn't mind sharing his story with us. Still averting his eyes, Ron began to tell us that he had been out of work for nearly two years, and looking for jobs at places like Deseret Industries (where he worked several years ago), K-Mart, Walmart, and the like. He did have a small apartment, but nobody had a job for him.
His parents split when he was three months old. He believes his dad is somewhere in the area, but is out of contact with him. Ron told us he has a brother who lives in Colorado, but again he is out of contact with him as well. We told him we couldn't offer him a job, but asked if he was hungry. Ron looked straight at us and said yes. After inquiring, we found out he liked Chinese food. At the convention, a lady we met gave us the card to a Chinese restaurant and told us we had to try it because it was so amazing. I pulled it up on my iPhone only to find it was about three blocks away. So we began to walk.
On our way I had to make a stop by the Marriott to pick up some food our friends had left over—which we ended up giving to Ron—from their stay in Salt Lake City. My mom and Danika waited with Ron outside while I ran up and picked up the food. While I was inside, Ron decided to have a smoke. He saw a man in a black suit with a red power tie also having a smoke. Ron decided to join him, and asked the man how he was doing. Surprisingly, the man responded to Ron instead of blowing him off. They carried on a small conversation, and as I exited the hotel I saw the business man discreetly hand my mom some cash knowing we were with him and said, "here's twenty for dinner," then walked into the hotel.
The four of us continued our walk to the restaurant. After a minute or two of silence, Ron piped up and said, "that guy handed her some money." We didn't know how to respond. Thankfully, Ron continued, "did you know that man?" My mom told him she didn't know him and Ron replied, "so he was just a nice guy? That's cool." My mom replied saying he just wanted to help in his own way.
We found the restaurant and sat down at a table. The three of us ordered appetizers because we were going to dinner with family a little later; Ron ordered the shrimp chow mein and couldn't even finish it all. I got him a box so he could take it home. The waiter gave us our customary fortune cookies. As Ron opened his it dropped to the floor, so my mom gave him her's. He ate the cookie and then read us his fortune: You will overcome difficult times. We never did pick up the fortune cookie that dropped on the ground—apologies to the restaurant employees—but it was apparent that this one was meant for him. It was neat to hear him read it with a sincere, yet somber tone and put it in his pocket as we stood up from our table.
Before we left the restaurant we prayed with him. He thanked us for everything, shook our hands, and then went his separate way. I don't know that I will ever see Ron again, but I am happy we crossed paths with him. I learned from him that it takes an incredible amount of courage to be humble. Especially to have enough humility to write on a piece of cardboard to ask for help from others. And though he did not seem to be a man of faith, he taught me that I need to have more of it. So thank you, Ron. You will continue to be in my prayers.
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Gotta Love it When God Winks
Danika and I sat down for happy hour at the Cheesecake Factory a couple days ago. After several stressful hours of wedding party outfit shopping, we were ready for some good food. Fried macaroni and cheese to be exact. If you haven't had it, go and get some. At happy hour, when it is half price. Your mind will be blown. We showed up a half hour too early to take advantage of happy hour prices, so we to munch on their complementary bread until the happiest time of the day rolled around. Two tables over from us sat a little lady, with her even littler mother who was visiting from England—sometimes I eavesdrop, what of it? I overheard her explaining to the waiter the difference between shepherd's pie at the Cheesecake Factory and shepherd's pie in England. Essentially, shepherd's pie in England doesn't have vegetables in its ingredient list. I knew there was a reason I liked England so much—aside from its accent.
A few minutes before receiving our orders of fried macaroni and cheese—seriously, go get some—the little lady leaned over the table separating Danika and I from her and her English mother with a twenty in hand. She told us that we looked like a cute couple and because of it wanted to pay for our meal, handed us the twenty and went back to talking with her mother. We barely had the chance to say thank you.
As they were finishing their meal and getting ready to leave, she asked us if we would keep an eye on their bag of leftovers while she took her mother to the restroom. When they returned Danika stood up, handed her the bag, and gave her a big hug while thanking her again. She said it was nothing, that she just felt like she had to pay for our meal, and then left the restaurant. We were left stunned and teary-eyed from her generosity.
A few minutes before receiving our orders of fried macaroni and cheese—seriously, go get some—the little lady leaned over the table separating Danika and I from her and her English mother with a twenty in hand. She told us that we looked like a cute couple and because of it wanted to pay for our meal, handed us the twenty and went back to talking with her mother. We barely had the chance to say thank you.
As they were finishing their meal and getting ready to leave, she asked us if we would keep an eye on their bag of leftovers while she took her mother to the restroom. When they returned Danika stood up, handed her the bag, and gave her a big hug while thanking her again. She said it was nothing, that she just felt like she had to pay for our meal, and then left the restaurant. We were left stunned and teary-eyed from her generosity.
Monday, March 5, 2012
Speak Well of Everyone
"Speak well of everyone." These words were spoken by renown theologian, Miroslav Volf at the 2012 Justice Conference. As the focal point of his talk he elaborated on these words. It's quite simple really, speak well of everyone. Not just your friends, your family, and people you admire, but also the socially awkward, your enemies, people you disagree with, and even people who do not speak well of you.
Speak well of everyone.
The following quote is an excerpt from a letter written by a Canadian woman in clear outrage of Muslim prisoners asking to be treated as human beings.
"When I see a wounded terrorist get shot in the head when he is told not to move because he might be booby-trapped, you can take it to the bank:
I don't care. Shoot him again.
When I hear that a prisoner who was issued a Koran and a prayer mat and fed 'special' food that is paid for by my tax dollars is complaining that his holy book is being 'mishandled,' you can absolutely believe, in your heart of hearts:
I don't care.
And oh. by the way. I've noticed that sometimes it's spelled 'Koran' and other times 'Quran.' Well, Jimmy Crack Corn you guessed it.
I don't care!!"
She finishes it with...
"One last thought for the day:
Only five defining forces have ever offered to die for you: Jesus Christ, the British soldier, the Canadian soldier, the US soldier, and the Australian soldier.
One died for your soul, the other four, for you and your children's freedom."
What the what!? Is God's heart found anywhere in this? I wish I could be accused of taking it out of context, but the entire letter is filled with this language. No, Christians may not agree with the Muslim religion, or things Muslims have done and continue to do, but if Christians are ever going to reach the Muslim people, it will not be through hateful words.
That example is a little extreme. Most do not go around saying belligerent, and downright hateful things about other people. So what about the weird kid at school? Or the annoying person you work with? How about the people who don't like you, maybe even speak poorly about you?
Speak well of everyone.
Miroslav talked about how his father would remove himself from any conversation at the slightest whisper of gossip. He wouldn't be abrupt; he would simply disengage and walk away because he didn't want to take part in it. Since hearing this, I have tried my best to refrain from participating in negative talk of people. If I don't have a way to remove myself from the situation, then I will do my best to defend that person, as I hope others would defend me.
If we are being honest with ourselves, we all have faults about us. We all have qualities that rub others the wrong way. In which case, we do not have any right to talk about the negative traits of other people. I want to relate it to the outlook a person has on life. Everyone has heard the terms pessimism, realism—pessimism in disguise, and optimism. Pessimists and realists tend to focus on the negatives and the what-if's of life. When someone is constantly seeing the negative, he will feel that way. Optimists simply look at the great things happening in life, and that is where they place their focus. Therefore, they tend to be happier, more positive people. Choose to focus on the positives in others. Look at them through God's eyes and find value in everyone. Your conscious efforts to see the good in, and to speak well of everyone will produce a habit, and it will eventually become second nature.
Speak well of everyone.
The following quote is an excerpt from a letter written by a Canadian woman in clear outrage of Muslim prisoners asking to be treated as human beings.
"When I see a wounded terrorist get shot in the head when he is told not to move because he might be booby-trapped, you can take it to the bank:
I don't care. Shoot him again.
When I hear that a prisoner who was issued a Koran and a prayer mat and fed 'special' food that is paid for by my tax dollars is complaining that his holy book is being 'mishandled,' you can absolutely believe, in your heart of hearts:
I don't care.
And oh. by the way. I've noticed that sometimes it's spelled 'Koran' and other times 'Quran.' Well, Jimmy Crack Corn you guessed it.
I don't care!!"
She finishes it with...
"One last thought for the day:
Only five defining forces have ever offered to die for you: Jesus Christ, the British soldier, the Canadian soldier, the US soldier, and the Australian soldier.
One died for your soul, the other four, for you and your children's freedom."
What the what!? Is God's heart found anywhere in this? I wish I could be accused of taking it out of context, but the entire letter is filled with this language. No, Christians may not agree with the Muslim religion, or things Muslims have done and continue to do, but if Christians are ever going to reach the Muslim people, it will not be through hateful words.
That example is a little extreme. Most do not go around saying belligerent, and downright hateful things about other people. So what about the weird kid at school? Or the annoying person you work with? How about the people who don't like you, maybe even speak poorly about you?
Speak well of everyone.
Miroslav talked about how his father would remove himself from any conversation at the slightest whisper of gossip. He wouldn't be abrupt; he would simply disengage and walk away because he didn't want to take part in it. Since hearing this, I have tried my best to refrain from participating in negative talk of people. If I don't have a way to remove myself from the situation, then I will do my best to defend that person, as I hope others would defend me.
If we are being honest with ourselves, we all have faults about us. We all have qualities that rub others the wrong way. In which case, we do not have any right to talk about the negative traits of other people. I want to relate it to the outlook a person has on life. Everyone has heard the terms pessimism, realism—pessimism in disguise, and optimism. Pessimists and realists tend to focus on the negatives and the what-if's of life. When someone is constantly seeing the negative, he will feel that way. Optimists simply look at the great things happening in life, and that is where they place their focus. Therefore, they tend to be happier, more positive people. Choose to focus on the positives in others. Look at them through God's eyes and find value in everyone. Your conscious efforts to see the good in, and to speak well of everyone will produce a habit, and it will eventually become second nature.
Sunday, February 26, 2012
What the Hell was I Thinking?
Let me tell you a little about myself.
From the fourth grade to my junior year of high school I wanted to be an architect. Not just any architect, I aspired of being the next Franklin Lloyd Wright who would go on to have a state of the art building erected in Dubai—the capital of state-of-the-art-ness. When my CAD teacher killed my love for architecture, I decided I would become a feature film director who would make Spielberg and Lucas look like amateur YouTubers. With those plans I saw both fame and fortune in my future, and lots of it. I grew up with the love for cars and knew that one day I would have a collection of exotic automobiles each with their own cozy place to sleep at night in the five car garage of the 10,000 square foot Tuscan style home I would one day design. I split the cars into two categories. One of my must-haves, and one called "that-might-be-nice-someday" as new pieces of machinery were unveiled. The ones guaranteed a spot in my automobile stable were a Lamborghini Murcielago, a Ferrari F430, an Aston Martin DB9, a Porsche 911 GT3, and a Mercedes Mclaren. I did the math to spare you some time; that would be next to a million dollars of Italian, British, and German made metal sitting in my garage at all times.
I knew my plans would be hard to rationalize being one who called himself a Christian. Fortunately, I am pretty good at justifying things. Of course, I would tithe the required ten percent; maybe even twenty when I was feeling generous. I decided that I could use my cars to impact God's Kingdom by building one of my cars into a weekend getaway for two package being sold at a fundraising auction. Surely people would spend a decent amount of money to own a $250,000 Lamborghini for the weekend, right? When they did it would make everybody happy. They would get to experience the thrill of a lifetime for an entire weekend, the fundraisers would earn more money, my heart would be overflowing with joy seeing the good my car did, and God would be pleased to see me using my possessions for His glory. The house I would use for various church functions like a weekly Bible study, baptisms—since I would have a wicked nice pool, and other midweek get-togethers.
Then this hot little number came along—now my wife—and ever so gently told me that my plans were stupid and a waste. As you can imagine, I did not take kindly to the great deal of wisdom she offered me, but I eventually—maybe stubbornly is a better suiting word—came to realize she was right. She and God worked together and began to change the field of view of my heart and my desires from me to others. Don't be fooled into thinking it was an overnight process, or that it has even been fully accomplished.
My goals have changed significantly. I don't want any exotic cars, I'll never need a 10,000 square foot house. I want to be living on less than half of my income as soon as possible and continue to live on less as time goes by. At some point if I am called to, I would love to start a non-profit though doing what I have no idea. I don't want to be an architect or a director, but a clinical psychologist because I want to walk with others in their struggles and cries. I know I'm using 'I' here a lot, but don't worry, my wife is in the know and on board with these dreams.
However, my natural tendency is still to think about myself. Those closest people to me hear my list of wants and know that it is far too long. I am bent toward materialism because I find fascination in gadgets, technology, fashion, and the like. I even asked my wife recently if I could buy a Ferrari if we were to get to a place of giving ninety percent of our income away and could still afford it. Though she has no desire to own a Ferrari, she thought it a reasonable request and said yes. Sooner than later I would like to own a house that Danika and I work with an architect to design on a few acres, and drive an Audi or BMW, nothing too fancy but still on the upscale side of things.
After the Justice Conference this weekend and examining all the problems going on, I don't know that I even want those things anymore. I listened to Francis Chan speak about how much better it is, truly, to give rather than receive, how he made millions off of his books and proceeded to give it all away, and how people say its good to save money for emergencies if the only qualification of an emergency is that it happens to them and their family. If we do get to a place where we are giving ninety percent of our income away, I don't want a Ferrari. How could I honestly justify driving one of those knowing a little boy is going without food, or a father just had to sell his daughter to be raped so he could provide for his family. I used to be able to justify it. Before going to the Justice Conference, I probably could have, but not anymore.
Thankfully, Danika helps me turn that list of wants I mentioned earlier into a much shorter list of things I actually need. Through her continuous help and challenging, I continue to want less and less, my heart is continually being changed, and I desire more and more to spend my money on others rather than myself.
Don't read this and be proud of me. Don't compliment me for how my goals have changed so drastically. I'm not writing this to be praised and it isn't me doing the changing in my heart. Rather, join me by examining your heart, your goals, and your possessions.
Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world. -James 1:27
From the fourth grade to my junior year of high school I wanted to be an architect. Not just any architect, I aspired of being the next Franklin Lloyd Wright who would go on to have a state of the art building erected in Dubai—the capital of state-of-the-art-ness. When my CAD teacher killed my love for architecture, I decided I would become a feature film director who would make Spielberg and Lucas look like amateur YouTubers. With those plans I saw both fame and fortune in my future, and lots of it. I grew up with the love for cars and knew that one day I would have a collection of exotic automobiles each with their own cozy place to sleep at night in the five car garage of the 10,000 square foot Tuscan style home I would one day design. I split the cars into two categories. One of my must-haves, and one called "that-might-be-nice-someday" as new pieces of machinery were unveiled. The ones guaranteed a spot in my automobile stable were a Lamborghini Murcielago, a Ferrari F430, an Aston Martin DB9, a Porsche 911 GT3, and a Mercedes Mclaren. I did the math to spare you some time; that would be next to a million dollars of Italian, British, and German made metal sitting in my garage at all times.
I knew my plans would be hard to rationalize being one who called himself a Christian. Fortunately, I am pretty good at justifying things. Of course, I would tithe the required ten percent; maybe even twenty when I was feeling generous. I decided that I could use my cars to impact God's Kingdom by building one of my cars into a weekend getaway for two package being sold at a fundraising auction. Surely people would spend a decent amount of money to own a $250,000 Lamborghini for the weekend, right? When they did it would make everybody happy. They would get to experience the thrill of a lifetime for an entire weekend, the fundraisers would earn more money, my heart would be overflowing with joy seeing the good my car did, and God would be pleased to see me using my possessions for His glory. The house I would use for various church functions like a weekly Bible study, baptisms—since I would have a wicked nice pool, and other midweek get-togethers.
Then this hot little number came along—now my wife—and ever so gently told me that my plans were stupid and a waste. As you can imagine, I did not take kindly to the great deal of wisdom she offered me, but I eventually—maybe stubbornly is a better suiting word—came to realize she was right. She and God worked together and began to change the field of view of my heart and my desires from me to others. Don't be fooled into thinking it was an overnight process, or that it has even been fully accomplished.
My goals have changed significantly. I don't want any exotic cars, I'll never need a 10,000 square foot house. I want to be living on less than half of my income as soon as possible and continue to live on less as time goes by. At some point if I am called to, I would love to start a non-profit though doing what I have no idea. I don't want to be an architect or a director, but a clinical psychologist because I want to walk with others in their struggles and cries. I know I'm using 'I' here a lot, but don't worry, my wife is in the know and on board with these dreams.
However, my natural tendency is still to think about myself. Those closest people to me hear my list of wants and know that it is far too long. I am bent toward materialism because I find fascination in gadgets, technology, fashion, and the like. I even asked my wife recently if I could buy a Ferrari if we were to get to a place of giving ninety percent of our income away and could still afford it. Though she has no desire to own a Ferrari, she thought it a reasonable request and said yes. Sooner than later I would like to own a house that Danika and I work with an architect to design on a few acres, and drive an Audi or BMW, nothing too fancy but still on the upscale side of things.
After the Justice Conference this weekend and examining all the problems going on, I don't know that I even want those things anymore. I listened to Francis Chan speak about how much better it is, truly, to give rather than receive, how he made millions off of his books and proceeded to give it all away, and how people say its good to save money for emergencies if the only qualification of an emergency is that it happens to them and their family. If we do get to a place where we are giving ninety percent of our income away, I don't want a Ferrari. How could I honestly justify driving one of those knowing a little boy is going without food, or a father just had to sell his daughter to be raped so he could provide for his family. I used to be able to justify it. Before going to the Justice Conference, I probably could have, but not anymore.
Thankfully, Danika helps me turn that list of wants I mentioned earlier into a much shorter list of things I actually need. Through her continuous help and challenging, I continue to want less and less, my heart is continually being changed, and I desire more and more to spend my money on others rather than myself.
Don't read this and be proud of me. Don't compliment me for how my goals have changed so drastically. I'm not writing this to be praised and it isn't me doing the changing in my heart. Rather, join me by examining your heart, your goals, and your possessions.
Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world. -James 1:27
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Marital Math Problem
I'm not very good at math. Though I have a lot of head knowledge about marriage and what it takes to succeed in it, I do not yet have the practical experience to back it up; that begins this August—and I can't wait! What this says however, is that if I can see this problem anyone should be able to. Yet it is one that seems to be disregarded over and over in the pursuit of happiness, also known as the American dream.
The problem is this: The increase in age difference between the onset of puberty and marriage over the course of history.
We wonder why there are no rules for dating found in the Bible. It's simply because dating did not exist. People waited an average of two years from the time they started thinking about sex to getting married; completely doable. Nowadays in America, people are waiting between 15 and 17 years until they settle down. You know how it goes: Graduate from college, get a job, make your first million and then think about a spouse. If you do it any other way, you are questioned at best, but more often ridiculed and deemed a failure, whether now or in the near future.
From the secular point of view, this problem isn't really a problem. A solution was quickly thought of anyway. That being have sex all you want while finding success in school and career, then settle down later. For Christians who are waiting for marriage to have sex, that solution cannot be part of the equation. So they have to do as they are told and wait SEVENTEEN YEARS before having sex!? Then they are judged harshly if they don't make it. What gives?
Now I am not saying we should give up on the biblical doctrine that says to save sex for marriage. I firmly believe in that and the reasons behind it. I am arguing that we need to reevaluate our ideas on the appropriate age for getting married. Sure, it could be considered 'safer' if you have a degree and are settling down in a career before the thought of marriage, but honestly what is the point? Bad things can still happen. There are plenty of married couples who followed American ideals of getting married that are currently facing financial hardships, affairs, and the like. The fact is, regardless of if or when you decide to get married it will never be easy, and there will always be hardships to overcome. My thought is, why face them alone? What is wrong with wanting to have someone to struggle with and to grow with? By the time you settle into a career and are financially stable—generally speaking—you have already spent close to half of your life, and done so alone.
It's perfectly reasonable to ask someone to wait a few years before having sex. Asking someone to wait seventeen years is simply outrageous. Christians, do not set your children up for failure by instilling in them that they have to wait to get married. Do not remove yourself from the picture if your children decide to get married young. Frankly, that is just stupid. In the time your kids need you most, be there for them. Build the trust that makes them want to listen to you and ask for your opinion. In turn you are provided the opportunity to offer wisdom as they move forward in one of the biggest decisions of their lives.
On the flip-side, if you are nearing the end of your teen years or are in early adulthood, do not go looking to get married just to have sex. There is far more to having a successful marriage than that. If sex is your only reason behind wanting to get married, you aren't ready yet.
I know I am not alone in this problem. I have heard many pastors and even professors (those really smart people with PhD's) talk to this very issue. The fact is, it's a growing issue and will continue to grow if the church—that is, the people of—does not stand up and make a change.
The problem is this: The increase in age difference between the onset of puberty and marriage over the course of history.
We wonder why there are no rules for dating found in the Bible. It's simply because dating did not exist. People waited an average of two years from the time they started thinking about sex to getting married; completely doable. Nowadays in America, people are waiting between 15 and 17 years until they settle down. You know how it goes: Graduate from college, get a job, make your first million and then think about a spouse. If you do it any other way, you are questioned at best, but more often ridiculed and deemed a failure, whether now or in the near future.
From the secular point of view, this problem isn't really a problem. A solution was quickly thought of anyway. That being have sex all you want while finding success in school and career, then settle down later. For Christians who are waiting for marriage to have sex, that solution cannot be part of the equation. So they have to do as they are told and wait SEVENTEEN YEARS before having sex!? Then they are judged harshly if they don't make it. What gives?
Now I am not saying we should give up on the biblical doctrine that says to save sex for marriage. I firmly believe in that and the reasons behind it. I am arguing that we need to reevaluate our ideas on the appropriate age for getting married. Sure, it could be considered 'safer' if you have a degree and are settling down in a career before the thought of marriage, but honestly what is the point? Bad things can still happen. There are plenty of married couples who followed American ideals of getting married that are currently facing financial hardships, affairs, and the like. The fact is, regardless of if or when you decide to get married it will never be easy, and there will always be hardships to overcome. My thought is, why face them alone? What is wrong with wanting to have someone to struggle with and to grow with? By the time you settle into a career and are financially stable—generally speaking—you have already spent close to half of your life, and done so alone.
It's perfectly reasonable to ask someone to wait a few years before having sex. Asking someone to wait seventeen years is simply outrageous. Christians, do not set your children up for failure by instilling in them that they have to wait to get married. Do not remove yourself from the picture if your children decide to get married young. Frankly, that is just stupid. In the time your kids need you most, be there for them. Build the trust that makes them want to listen to you and ask for your opinion. In turn you are provided the opportunity to offer wisdom as they move forward in one of the biggest decisions of their lives.
On the flip-side, if you are nearing the end of your teen years or are in early adulthood, do not go looking to get married just to have sex. There is far more to having a successful marriage than that. If sex is your only reason behind wanting to get married, you aren't ready yet.
I know I am not alone in this problem. I have heard many pastors and even professors (those really smart people with PhD's) talk to this very issue. The fact is, it's a growing issue and will continue to grow if the church—that is, the people of—does not stand up and make a change.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Talk About Shivers
This semester I am working as an intern, as part of my psychology degree, at an assisted living facility called Friendsview. There, I get the opportunity to work with, and have my heart expanded for, the elderly; something God has been hard at work on in my life.
Part of my responsibilities at Friendsview is to assist in leading Friendship Circle. It's a time every Tuesday where we gather residents who suffer from dementia to sing hymns, converse about a topic (Instruments, childhood stories, past careers, and the like), sing a couple more hymns and close in prayer. Nothing major, just a half hour segment of interaction between residents and caregivers.
This week however, it was incredible; that's an understatement.
The topic was favorite Bible verse or Bible story, and it turned out to be one of the most spiritual experiences I have had. The gal I was co-leading with read the first verse in Psalm 23 to initiate the conversation.
The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
What happened next was completely unexpected. Each of the residents—laden with various forms of dementia, and living the final chapter of their lives—began to recite the passage from memory. One continued...
He makes me lie down in green pastures.
Another picked it up:
He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul.
Two more followed in unison—
He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake.
And it continued to resound through the group...
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
you annoint my head with oil,
my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD...
All of them ended the passage together:
...forever.
Amen
That moment sent shivers down my spine and my eyes welled up with tears; again as I recall it. The same for my co-leader, and my supervisor. Past that, I cannot adequately explain how filled that time was with God's presence. Just as quietly as it began, it came to pass.
Part of my responsibilities at Friendsview is to assist in leading Friendship Circle. It's a time every Tuesday where we gather residents who suffer from dementia to sing hymns, converse about a topic (Instruments, childhood stories, past careers, and the like), sing a couple more hymns and close in prayer. Nothing major, just a half hour segment of interaction between residents and caregivers.
This week however, it was incredible; that's an understatement.
The topic was favorite Bible verse or Bible story, and it turned out to be one of the most spiritual experiences I have had. The gal I was co-leading with read the first verse in Psalm 23 to initiate the conversation.
The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
What happened next was completely unexpected. Each of the residents—laden with various forms of dementia, and living the final chapter of their lives—began to recite the passage from memory. One continued...
He makes me lie down in green pastures.
Another picked it up:
He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul.
Two more followed in unison—
He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake.
And it continued to resound through the group...
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;
you annoint my head with oil,
my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD...
All of them ended the passage together:
...forever.
Amen
That moment sent shivers down my spine and my eyes welled up with tears; again as I recall it. The same for my co-leader, and my supervisor. Past that, I cannot adequately explain how filled that time was with God's presence. Just as quietly as it began, it came to pass.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Calculated Risk
This one was inspired by a conversation I had with my roommate, David earlier this morning. He and I have been blessed with opportunities to do some bucket-list-worthy things in our lives, none of which have come to pass without the opposition from someone or something. We laughed over how we both have heard the same sort of things from people: "don't do that, it's too dangerous," or "that is not a safe country to visit," and less often "that's just stupid." Then we both agreed that we would rather die, living than die wishing we did more.
It is true that there are plenty of dumb things that people have done either in the name of adrenaline or of faith. Generally, those things involve unnecessary risk or simply an unhealthy dose of sheer stupidity. However, in order to live life we have to be comfortable with taking some risks; calculated risks. That goes for school, business, and commuting just as much as travel, adventure, or extreme sports. When David or I set out to travel, harness up, tighten our boots, or pack our backpacks we prepare for as much as we can, but recognize that we cannot prepare for everything. And that's okay, because to us experiencing the culture of another people, the thrill of climbing the face of a cliff, or the beauty of God's creation, is worth the chance that it could be our last experience. That doesn't mean we don't do everything in our power to assure that we come home safely.
The reality is, there is just as much risk at home as there is away from home. The only major difference is the level of comfort we have with our surroundings. When living in Costa Rica, I was told to watch out for people trying to pick my pocket or snatch my bag, because I and the other Americans were more of a target than the locals. But the same risk is present when I am in downtown Portland, or Seattle, or any city for that matter. It's just a good idea to be on your guard, and play it smart no matter where you are. By doing so, you eliminate a decent amount of the risk involved; never can you eliminate all of it.
David told me a story from one of his friends who was a missionary kid in Africa for a number of years. I guess safety was a main concern for the missionary families who lived over there, though his friend was one of the lucky ones whose parents allotted more freedoms than the others. The mother of one of the families had all she could take living in fear of potential danger, namely poisonous snakes that she took her family back to the States, where they could be safe. A short time after settling into a home in Arizona, their boy crawled under their porch and got bit by a poisonous snake. As his father got him in the car and was backing out of the driveway he ran into his daughter, but in his panic did not realize it until later that day when he found her dead. The boy didn't make it either. Three weeks later the mother died because of the grief she faced.
We have just as good of a chance of encountering death here at home as we do on a journey. Since that is the case, I would much rather risk death while on a journey and making the most of my life than to die living in fear, trying to protect myself with a false sense of security. I encourage you to do the same.
In the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years. —Abraham Lincoln
It is true that there are plenty of dumb things that people have done either in the name of adrenaline or of faith. Generally, those things involve unnecessary risk or simply an unhealthy dose of sheer stupidity. However, in order to live life we have to be comfortable with taking some risks; calculated risks. That goes for school, business, and commuting just as much as travel, adventure, or extreme sports. When David or I set out to travel, harness up, tighten our boots, or pack our backpacks we prepare for as much as we can, but recognize that we cannot prepare for everything. And that's okay, because to us experiencing the culture of another people, the thrill of climbing the face of a cliff, or the beauty of God's creation, is worth the chance that it could be our last experience. That doesn't mean we don't do everything in our power to assure that we come home safely.
The reality is, there is just as much risk at home as there is away from home. The only major difference is the level of comfort we have with our surroundings. When living in Costa Rica, I was told to watch out for people trying to pick my pocket or snatch my bag, because I and the other Americans were more of a target than the locals. But the same risk is present when I am in downtown Portland, or Seattle, or any city for that matter. It's just a good idea to be on your guard, and play it smart no matter where you are. By doing so, you eliminate a decent amount of the risk involved; never can you eliminate all of it.
David told me a story from one of his friends who was a missionary kid in Africa for a number of years. I guess safety was a main concern for the missionary families who lived over there, though his friend was one of the lucky ones whose parents allotted more freedoms than the others. The mother of one of the families had all she could take living in fear of potential danger, namely poisonous snakes that she took her family back to the States, where they could be safe. A short time after settling into a home in Arizona, their boy crawled under their porch and got bit by a poisonous snake. As his father got him in the car and was backing out of the driveway he ran into his daughter, but in his panic did not realize it until later that day when he found her dead. The boy didn't make it either. Three weeks later the mother died because of the grief she faced.
We have just as good of a chance of encountering death here at home as we do on a journey. Since that is the case, I would much rather risk death while on a journey and making the most of my life than to die living in fear, trying to protect myself with a false sense of security. I encourage you to do the same.
In the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years. —Abraham Lincoln
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