Lincoln Messenger

I recently was asked to write an article for the Lincoln Messenger, the local newspaper here. I asked a few creative friends what they would write abut during this time iof the year. I was inspired by my friend Anita and here's what I came up with:

“This is gonna be the worst Christmas ever.” I felt sad, like I just saw a dog get hit by a car. My 6-year-old son uttered those words. It was Christmas time last year and I had “tree issues.” I had found a good shaped tree at the lot at our local hardware giant (names left out to protect the innocent), only to discover later that the trunk of the tree was lopsided. The base was fine, but as you followed the trunk up the tree it took on an angle that would rival a playground slide. The crazy thing was that the tree looked nice, but the center was off. After I finally struggled to get it into the base, it would consistently and randomly fall over. So much so that I had to wedge metal brackets in between the tree and the capped screws that held it in place in its base. But, this tree was no ordinary tree. It was especially designed to take out small animals and even little children. Another problem was that I shot too low on its height. I was looking for a tree that would look nice at the taller end of our cathedral ceilings. But, I was way off. So I thought, “ Hey, I’ll put it on a box.” I thought it might help to show off the presents underneath as well. Now, I was really playing with danger. Not only did the tree fall over unexpectedly, but I have now put it up higher so that the blows to both ornaments and passers-by would be more devastating. Large trees, laden with glass and metal, being dropped on unsuspecting strangers. That was the reason my oldest son would say those words that broke my heart as his father. I wanted it all to be so perfect. What kind of parent puts his kid in harm’s way, at Christmas, even? It must have fallen over 4 or 5 different times on different folks and destroyed untold number of ornaments, both heirloom and nostalgic. Every time it fell (once almost taking out our youngest at 3 years of age), Tanner would say, “This is gonna be the worst Christmas ever.”

It reminded me of one of my favorite Christmas shows as a young boy. I always loved watching, "It’s a Charlie Brown Christmas.” If you can remember when you first saw Charlie Brown go his local tree lot to pick out a special Christmas tree for the school pageant. You probably have never forgotten the scrawny, little, and almost bare, tree that Charlie Brown bought. It could not even hold one ornament without being bent over all the way to the floor. Charlie got a lot of flack for choosing that tree and so did I. I felt a kinship with him.

It probably makes matters worse because I do love this season. The weather, the decorations, the spirit of generosity that is more evident, and the reason behind it all. I really want so much for it to be perfect. I hang the lights up so that they look like perfect icicles hanging from my eaves. We decorate the tree so that the delicate ratio of ornaments, to garland to tinsel is perfect. I want to get the perfect gift for each of my boys and especially my wife. I also want to have the perfect celebration dinner. But, in fact, I have never experienced that perfect Christmas. Every year during this holiday season, there is something that does not quite work out the way it’s supposed to in my mind. I get the wrong gift; break one of the plates of china that my grandmother collected; I cannot find which bulb is out so a portion of the string of lights hangs darkened for the holiday; or a tree falls on someone. Ever year it is a not-so-perfect Christmas.

I want my children to be in awe of the season when we celebrate the greatest gift given to people. And yet, when I reflect on that first Christmas, I see something that eases my mind and heart. You have a young couple in a not-so-perfect courting relationship. They are engaged and she gets pregnant, not by him. They travel far, only to get to their destination and find a “no vacancy” sign lit in the window of every hotel and motel throughout the town. Her water breaks and she ends up having the baby in a horse stable. They do not get a baby shower from their friends and relatives. They do not even have a blanket in which to wrap their newborn baby boy. I guess they had a not-so-perfect Christmas, too.

In wanting to have the perfect Christmas, my center was off. It is not in the perfect we find joy, peace, and love, but actually in the mess, mistakes, and mayhem of life. It is the real that makes life fulfilling, not the perfect. My wife and my kids now repeat my son’s phrase whenever something does not go quite right. It has become a moment of laughter and joy-making in our family. I can imagine when something goes wrong this year, and it will, we will all turn to one another and say, “This is gonna be the worst Christmas ever.” Charlie Brown had one. Mary, Joseph and Jesus experienced one. So, I do not know what your plans and expectations are for this holiday season, but, I wish you a not-so-perfect Christmas. May you be surprised by the joy and laughter revealed in the not so perfect, it is there where we will discover real joy, laughter and peace amidst all that life brings. May God’s blessings overflow in your hearts this holiday season!

Packing Up

When my wife and I moved from our first home (a double-wide mobile home). All of our worldly possessions could fit into a $19.95/day Uhaul truck. We did not have much that was our own and when we decided to move, we sold most of our furniture. Now the very idea of packing up our home (besides the emotional grieving of distance from our family and friends) is overwhelming. Simply contemplating how to box up the garage, I feel like the little girl who tries to eat a whale in Shel Silverstein's book of poems, Where the Sidewalk Ends. After all, the stuff we collect grows to fill (and over flow) the space we have available. So, I sit blogging instead of sorting. Reading instead of packing. It is actually kind of fun to simplify and downsize. Why do I think I need so much in life? Like Steve Martin's character in The Jerk, I hold on to the most obscure stuff; a thermos, a lamp, and for me its a collection of tin 50's memorabilia signs and a Darth Vader Slurpee collectors cup... I guess the really important stuff is not stuff at all. Its the people you get to do life with. The most important ones go with you and the rest can visit. Most of all, the moments of laughter and weeping, and times of outrageous fun and conversations of such depth. Our sharing of the very fabric of our lives and the substance of our souls, never really gets packed up or left behind. It all goes with us because it has left an indelible mark on our mind and a permanent impression on our hearts. That's what I will miss most. Its the frequency and proximity that I will mourn. But, my life has been changed and shaped by the people I've traveled with along the way. So much of those divine conversations and god-moments has been recorded in my journals. Now if I could only find those so I can pack them...

Physics Formulas and New Beginnings

I hated physics. There were so many formulas to memorize and, being a high schooler, I had much more important information to store in my small brain. Today some of that information still reigns. Primarily 80's music trivia. Like who sang "Com' on Eileen"? Or, the ever popular, "Pop Goes the World?" Yet, there was one formula or physics puzzle I was interested in. The trajectory of a rocket or missile. It just seems cool to figure out the path of a rocket or the place a missile would explode. I learned that a small change in the angle of trajectory caused a huge shift in the final destination of the rocket ship. In other words, a incremental change resulted in a radically different location. Today is a day of a new beginning. Not because I started to blog for the first time, rather, it is the day that my family's trajectory has radically changed. Our decision to step away from UP, a church we helped to launch over 7 years ago, has significantly altered our path in ministry. I just accepted an offer to join the staff community of One Life. It is a young church east of Sacramento in the growing city of Lincoln.

Moving the family from So. Cal. has been a very gut-wrenching and emotionally shaping experience. Having lived here my entire life surrounded by family, friends and a whole network of kingdom collaborators is a very safe, comfortable and affirming place to be. Yet, earlier this year Dawn and I both felt the pull of God to end a very crucial season of our life with University Praise Church Community and follow God into another place. We thought originally it was simply to "step out of the boat" of our comfort zone of UP and into a another church or non-profit in So. Cal. But, as conversations progressed and offers were extended to us, it seemed that God was leading even beyond So. Cal. With conversations and interviews up and down the West Coast and even beyond the Rockies, we sensed God unmooring us from our home.


My friend Dave Avanzino is an incredibly gifted artist and created this picture. It reminds me of when a small group of followers of Jesus (his disciples/students) were crossing a lake late into the night and thought they saw Jesus coming toward them walking on the water. One student, Peter, decided to get out of the boat and defy physics by walking on the water toward Jesus. He did not get very far without sinking, yet his decision is worthy of celebrating. He would rather leave a few footprints on the water than butt prints in the boat.

I guess I do not need to write novel first time out (though it is tempting). I'll continue later. Respond as you feel led. Blessings.