wow, it's been a while since i've updated this.
went to the summer of service in cinci last week. awesome. good God stuff. had a blast serving, laughing, worshipping, siphoning off energy from young people. had a great time hanging out with Jon B, a man i continue to be more and more impressed with. got to observe Donnell really coming into his own as a youth pastor - leading the staff with grace, care, and vision, loving the kids, exercising wisdom and discernment in complex situations. reconnected with folks i've missed a lot from a2. love that church in cinci, too. lots of Jesus there.
on an unrelated note, cat's throwing up a lot, every day now, sometimes a couple of times a day. Aslan, the ornery one. pushing 11 years old, i think. probably not much longer for this world. i think i'll actually be pretty sad if we have to put him to sleep - he and i have a strange attachment, despite all the grief i give him. prayed for him not too long ago, that God would grant him a peaceful, happy last chapter. a little funny, laying hands on a cat, but felt right to do, being the one given care for one of God's creatures. all things great and small, goes the poem, the Lord God loves them all...
Wednesday, June 30, 2004
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
Uncle Jess
Ronni's Uncle Jess passed away last week, and we had his memorial service today. i had the privilege of leading the service, and speaking at it. thought i'd post an excerpt from the sermon, in honor of Uncle Jess:
It occurs to me that I owe Uncle Jess a debt of gratitude. In the early years of dating Ronni, it was always a bit of a mystery why I was welcomed so readily into this family. Over the last 14 years or so, I’ve come to the conclusion that I have to give a fair share of the credit not to my own charm and good looks, but rather to Uncle Jess’ hard won good reputation.
[Drafting behind a faster vehicle, getting pulled along by the wake of a boat…]
When I came into this family, Uncle Jess was like that faster car or larger boat in front of me. I got to draft a little bit off of his good name. Everyone loved Uncle Jess: he was the big brother to Ronni’s mom who had filled in like a provider for her as a little girl when her dad had been unable to. He was one of her dad’s best friends for as long as Ronni could remember. He was generous hearted toward everyone who’s talked to me about him. Just by virtue of name association, I think all of you were inclined to give me the benefit of the doubt. So let me begin by saying, “Thanks, Uncle Jess.”
Jesse B. Hazel had a lightness to his being that belied the weight he’d carried in his life. I can’t forget how delighted he was with the simplest things.
Delighted by how Colin had grown, by the breadth of his burgeoning vocabulary, by his incomparable athletic prowess in relation to the other 3 year olds Jess had played catch with recently.
Delighted by Ronni, and Paula, and Becky. Delighted by their talents and success.
Delighted to see me. Delighted to hear I was a pastoring a church now, even though I could tell he didn’t know exactly what all that entailed. Not that I knew exactly what all that entailed for that matter.
Delighted with the movies we’d gotten him for Christmas. Delighted with those gameboy games, amazing what they can do these days.
He came over to our house and played with my flight simulator not long ago, he and Uncle Arnie. Wow, look at Los Angeles! Sydney, Australia! His face was filled with wonder at the wonders of the world on the screen in front of him, the wonder that the world had come to the point where he could be piloting a plane in my office, filled with the thrill of taking off, just missing the trees and telephone wires, wondering if the slightest tremble in his hand just might send his virtual airplane tumbling out of the sky.
Whatever or whoever was in front of Jess had his whole attention, his whole respect, his whole interest, his whole delight.
Sure, he could get perturbed. Something a politician had said or done. Something the Tigers had failed to do. Something he’d seen on the news. But you could tell it didn’t really get him down; he was just pretending because it was the socially polite thing to do, to be indignant about those things. A smile was always gliding just under the surface like a porpoise, ready to leap and splash across his face.
If you’d known Jess as a young man, you might have expected him to become bitter, withdrawn, cynical. He’d just gone to Florida, ready to make a fresh start on his dreams when he got the news of his father’s accident. I don’t know if he wrestled with God then, what sorts of internal conversations he had—maybe those of you who knew him then know—but the fact of the matter is that he came back to Michigan, got his old job back, minus the seniority he’d accumulated, and took care of the family his father wasn’t able to anymore. And then when his dad passed on, he stayed with his mom, caring for her until she passed into Christ’s care. For Barbara, the baby sister he helped support and raise, he was something more than a big brother. For her children, he became almost like a grandfather.
Jess let go of whatever dream had led him to Florida, and perhaps none of us but God will know the true measure of his sacrifice, the cost he paid to do what had to be done. It’s probably impossible to know the weight that Jess carried in his life, the dark nights of the soul that he certainly endured, but it’s equally impossible to miss the joy with which Jess chose to embrace each one of us. Each of us knows, in different ways, the immeasurable good that came to us through the man Jess became. We know the impact his generosity has had on our lives, the impact of the care and delight Jess freely, unbegrudgingly gave.
afterwards we went to eat at hometown (previously, old country) buffet, Uncle Jess' favorite restaurant. very cool.
It occurs to me that I owe Uncle Jess a debt of gratitude. In the early years of dating Ronni, it was always a bit of a mystery why I was welcomed so readily into this family. Over the last 14 years or so, I’ve come to the conclusion that I have to give a fair share of the credit not to my own charm and good looks, but rather to Uncle Jess’ hard won good reputation.
[Drafting behind a faster vehicle, getting pulled along by the wake of a boat…]
When I came into this family, Uncle Jess was like that faster car or larger boat in front of me. I got to draft a little bit off of his good name. Everyone loved Uncle Jess: he was the big brother to Ronni’s mom who had filled in like a provider for her as a little girl when her dad had been unable to. He was one of her dad’s best friends for as long as Ronni could remember. He was generous hearted toward everyone who’s talked to me about him. Just by virtue of name association, I think all of you were inclined to give me the benefit of the doubt. So let me begin by saying, “Thanks, Uncle Jess.”
Jesse B. Hazel had a lightness to his being that belied the weight he’d carried in his life. I can’t forget how delighted he was with the simplest things.
Delighted by how Colin had grown, by the breadth of his burgeoning vocabulary, by his incomparable athletic prowess in relation to the other 3 year olds Jess had played catch with recently.
Delighted by Ronni, and Paula, and Becky. Delighted by their talents and success.
Delighted to see me. Delighted to hear I was a pastoring a church now, even though I could tell he didn’t know exactly what all that entailed. Not that I knew exactly what all that entailed for that matter.
Delighted with the movies we’d gotten him for Christmas. Delighted with those gameboy games, amazing what they can do these days.
He came over to our house and played with my flight simulator not long ago, he and Uncle Arnie. Wow, look at Los Angeles! Sydney, Australia! His face was filled with wonder at the wonders of the world on the screen in front of him, the wonder that the world had come to the point where he could be piloting a plane in my office, filled with the thrill of taking off, just missing the trees and telephone wires, wondering if the slightest tremble in his hand just might send his virtual airplane tumbling out of the sky.
Whatever or whoever was in front of Jess had his whole attention, his whole respect, his whole interest, his whole delight.
Sure, he could get perturbed. Something a politician had said or done. Something the Tigers had failed to do. Something he’d seen on the news. But you could tell it didn’t really get him down; he was just pretending because it was the socially polite thing to do, to be indignant about those things. A smile was always gliding just under the surface like a porpoise, ready to leap and splash across his face.
If you’d known Jess as a young man, you might have expected him to become bitter, withdrawn, cynical. He’d just gone to Florida, ready to make a fresh start on his dreams when he got the news of his father’s accident. I don’t know if he wrestled with God then, what sorts of internal conversations he had—maybe those of you who knew him then know—but the fact of the matter is that he came back to Michigan, got his old job back, minus the seniority he’d accumulated, and took care of the family his father wasn’t able to anymore. And then when his dad passed on, he stayed with his mom, caring for her until she passed into Christ’s care. For Barbara, the baby sister he helped support and raise, he was something more than a big brother. For her children, he became almost like a grandfather.
Jess let go of whatever dream had led him to Florida, and perhaps none of us but God will know the true measure of his sacrifice, the cost he paid to do what had to be done. It’s probably impossible to know the weight that Jess carried in his life, the dark nights of the soul that he certainly endured, but it’s equally impossible to miss the joy with which Jess chose to embrace each one of us. Each of us knows, in different ways, the immeasurable good that came to us through the man Jess became. We know the impact his generosity has had on our lives, the impact of the care and delight Jess freely, unbegrudgingly gave.
afterwards we went to eat at hometown (previously, old country) buffet, Uncle Jess' favorite restaurant. very cool.
Saturday, June 12, 2004
Friday, June 11, 2004
feeling much better, thank you
as i lay in the hospital, oxygen tubes in my nose, an i.v. in my right arm, and sensors of varying sorts connected to my chest, i began to wonder if perhaps i was taking the piston's game 2 loss a little too seriously. sure, things looked bad, but heart attack bad?
not that i was actually having a heart attack, mind you, but it sure seemed like it. i'd been up all night, unable to sleep because of the pain and numbness radiating from my neck and shoulder area down my arm into my right hand. finally woke Ronni at 5, called the doctor, explained the symptoms, got my marching orders, woke up Colin, and all headed down to the Saline hospital.
after a full cardio workup showed a perfectly healthy heart, the doctor tried some potent pain meds in the i.v. 5 minutes later i felt like a new man. turned out to be a strained trapezius muscle.
probably from leading worship on the guitar at our home group on tuesday night. pitiful, eh? i sure hope the home group realizes how much i put into it for them. Clearly, Jesus wasn't all that impressed :)
turns out my concerns for the pistons were equally ill founded. their heart is in great shape, despite everyone's concerns to the contrary (mine included). championship shape, even. we'll see...
not that i was actually having a heart attack, mind you, but it sure seemed like it. i'd been up all night, unable to sleep because of the pain and numbness radiating from my neck and shoulder area down my arm into my right hand. finally woke Ronni at 5, called the doctor, explained the symptoms, got my marching orders, woke up Colin, and all headed down to the Saline hospital.
after a full cardio workup showed a perfectly healthy heart, the doctor tried some potent pain meds in the i.v. 5 minutes later i felt like a new man. turned out to be a strained trapezius muscle.
probably from leading worship on the guitar at our home group on tuesday night. pitiful, eh? i sure hope the home group realizes how much i put into it for them. Clearly, Jesus wasn't all that impressed :)
turns out my concerns for the pistons were equally ill founded. their heart is in great shape, despite everyone's concerns to the contrary (mine included). championship shape, even. we'll see...
Tuesday, June 8, 2004
shucks
o.k., twenty minutes or so have elapsed since the piston's game 2 loss. thinking i'll stay at the shucks level for a day or so, and then start to get hopeful again.
Friday, June 4, 2004
finals
suffering from a little writer's block as i prepare the sermon for this weekend, so figured it wouldn't hurt to ramble a bit about the pistons.
they're finally in the finals. Dumar's team. i like that. i loved Joey D. in the late 80's and early 90's. i think i especially liked the fact that he was the most unexpected bad boy. calm, self-assured, generous, even tempered, engaging. but there was a fire in his eyes and his belly. you knew he wanted to win. you knew he wanted to win not for himself but because anything less was less than his best, less than his teammates and coaches and fans and parents deserved, less than the game deserved, less, in some strange way, than his opponents deserved.
the pistons are desperately overmatched in terms of pure talent. but they've got heart, and there is something compelling about heart vs. talent. talent wins and talent's fans get bigger heads. heart wins and heart's fans get bigger hearts. talent loses and ego scrambles for protection. heart loses and heart resolves.
here's my fantasy for how the series begins. l.a. dominates first half, Shaq and Kobe light it up. detroit makes defensive adjustments, lock down the lakers in the third quarter, holding them to 9 points. l.a. starts to get frustrated, angry, payton gets a T. Tayshaun and Rasheed start to hit from inside and outside. l.a. mounts a bit of a comback during a detroit offensive drought at the start of the 4th. Hamilton starts to go crazy, hitting everything. but no one can stop Shaq going into the stretch, so Brown calls a timeout. subs in Darko. Darko's ready. he's been holding back all season, waiting for this moment. every piston knows it; they've been keeping it quiet, but during practice Darko's been a monster. first posession out of the t.o., Darko dunks over Shaq. stares him down. swats his next 3 shots. hits a three. goes coast to coast. fans are stunned. the series has just begun.
Joey D. sits back in the shadows, smiling.
they're finally in the finals. Dumar's team. i like that. i loved Joey D. in the late 80's and early 90's. i think i especially liked the fact that he was the most unexpected bad boy. calm, self-assured, generous, even tempered, engaging. but there was a fire in his eyes and his belly. you knew he wanted to win. you knew he wanted to win not for himself but because anything less was less than his best, less than his teammates and coaches and fans and parents deserved, less than the game deserved, less, in some strange way, than his opponents deserved.
the pistons are desperately overmatched in terms of pure talent. but they've got heart, and there is something compelling about heart vs. talent. talent wins and talent's fans get bigger heads. heart wins and heart's fans get bigger hearts. talent loses and ego scrambles for protection. heart loses and heart resolves.
here's my fantasy for how the series begins. l.a. dominates first half, Shaq and Kobe light it up. detroit makes defensive adjustments, lock down the lakers in the third quarter, holding them to 9 points. l.a. starts to get frustrated, angry, payton gets a T. Tayshaun and Rasheed start to hit from inside and outside. l.a. mounts a bit of a comback during a detroit offensive drought at the start of the 4th. Hamilton starts to go crazy, hitting everything. but no one can stop Shaq going into the stretch, so Brown calls a timeout. subs in Darko. Darko's ready. he's been holding back all season, waiting for this moment. every piston knows it; they've been keeping it quiet, but during practice Darko's been a monster. first posession out of the t.o., Darko dunks over Shaq. stares him down. swats his next 3 shots. hits a three. goes coast to coast. fans are stunned. the series has just begun.
Joey D. sits back in the shadows, smiling.
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